Andrea Pickens - [Lessons in Love 03] (27 page)

"Forgive me if I stumbled a bit in my role," she snapped with some sarcasm. "I have had precious little practice in subduing a platoon of enemy soldiers."

He moved to her side, a lopsided grin coming to his haggard face. "All things considered, the critics give you a standing ovation. I shall, however, take over the lead from here." Taking one of the pistols from her numb fingers, he pushed her gently aside. "Help Emma gather up some of the blankets and rations."

"You are... English!" stammered the officer in some disbelief. "What in the name of the Holy Virgin are you—" A nudge of the pistol caused him to fall silent.

"Don't ask," sighed Alex as he watched the two ladies stow several armfuls of supplies into the sled. "I doubt you would believe it, even if I were to tell you the truth." Ignoring the man's look of complete bafflement, he motioned to Nicholas. "Put the muskets into the sled as well."

"
Mon Dieu
, y-you don't mean to leave us unarmed in this godforsaken wilderness!" exclaimed the officer.

"No. Not if you and your men do as you are told. Don't attempt to pursue us and I shall drop your weapons just before we turn onto the main road."

"God help you—the two of you really are mad," repeated the officer with a dazed shake of his head.

A gust of wind shivered the heavy pine boughs, and a flurry of snow swirled around the small encampment. Alex glanced at the men's tattered boots and worn cloaks and his lips compressed in a tight line. "I have a suspicion you are going to have just as much need of the Almighty's help in making your own way home." The horses shifted in the traces, clouds of vapor muffling their snorted complaints. With a shrug of his shoulders, he signaled for the others to climb into the waiting conveyance.

Octavia didn't budge. "Alex... "

"The Devil take it, must you always argue—" She cut off his snappish words with a mute gesture at the kettle of soup. "You are quite right. But hurry."

Octavia took up two of the battered bowls from near the fire and ladled out a generous helping for the two children, who fell upon the steaming contents with undisguised relish. After a quick bite for herself, she fixed another portion and carried it to where Alex held the officer at gunpoint. "You must eat as well. I'll keep my pistol trained on the prisoner."

He said something rude under his breath.

"Must you always argue?" She mimicked his own earlier tone of exasperation with frightening accuracy. "Don't be an obstinate ass! Do you really wish to pass out cold from hunger and exhaustion?"

The Frenchman's lips gave a wry twitch. "It does not appear, monsieur, that your wife is a lady to argue with. Er—" He gave a nervous glance at the gun that was being waved uncomfortably close to his head. "—please do as she says."

Alex gulped down the soup. "If the lady were my wife, I doubt I should have even a shred of my sanity left." He tossed aside the empty bowl and took hold of the officer's coat, pulling him out of Octavia's line of fire. "Come along with me."

Octavia thought she heard a whispered prayer of thanks. Stifling an indignant retort, she hustled the children into the interior of the cab. How dare the two men claim the workings of the female mind were incomprehensible! What had she done—other than secure transport and supplies—to provoke the mercurial Mr. Sheffield's odious temper? It would serve him right if she—

Catching sight of two pairs of eyes regarding her with a mixture of awe and curiosity, she moderated her black scowl somewhat. "Try to get some sleep," she counseled, arranging yet another blanket around their slight forms. "We still have a long journey ahead, but perhaps the worst is behind us."

* * *

Her words proved true enough. Several times during the night, the sleigh was slowed by sentries patrolling the roads, but a vague mutter, accompanied by much pointing and gesturing caused the soldiers to wave them on. By the time dawn glimmered on the horizon, they had not sighted a soul for several hours.

Octavia insisted on taking over the reins, sending Alex inside to grab a bit of rest. No doubt the only reason he agreed, she told herself on climbing up to the driver's seat, was because his jaw was too frozen to voice a protest. There was silence all around, save for the swoosh of the iron runners through the powdery drifts. The miles continued to slide by and as the sun stole out from behind the thick clouds, the snow-covered landscape took on an ethereal beauty, the sharp northern light setting the vast expanse of white to winking and glittering as if it were covered with diamonds.

Precious indeed was each step closer to St. Petersburg, mused Octavia. Once there, she and Alex could each feel a well-deserved measure of satisfaction in having succeeded against overwhelming odds.
And what of their odd little group?

Of course they would go their separate ways.

He would be eager to catch the first ship back to England and deliver the young count to his relatives. She, too, was determined to go on to London, though it might take a little longer to arrange. However, she doubted the Renfrews would dare raise much of an objection when she threatened to expose their misuse of Emma's funds. Once she had made sure the girl was comfortably settled in a proper household, she could begin to think about what might lay ahead for her.

Right now the future did not seem nearly as bright as the sparkling snow. With no references, the chances of securing any respectable position did not seem overly good. Her mouth scrunched up in a strange grimace. Well, one thing was sure—whatever the future might hold, it did not include a certain ill-tempered, impecunious tutor. She should be glad of it, she assured herself, for he was the most aggravating, arrogant and sardonic man she had ever met.

So why was she feeling a strange little lurch of her insides at the thought of never seeing Mr. Sheffield after they reached their destination?

She was merely... hungry, she told herself. Besides, she could be sure that he was feeling no such qualms at the prospects of being parted from his traveling companion. It was clear he thought her a managing, overbearing shrew! Why, the wretch had had the nerve to imply that any man would have to dicked in the nob to find her—

Such lowering thoughts were interrupted by the sight of movement up head. She slowed the horses to a walk, and made ready to grab for the pistol tucked away in her pocket. It was, however, only an elderly peasant shuffling along with a large sack of firewood slung over his back. A few hurried inquires revealed that the fighting lay well to the south. Further questioning caused the fellow pause and tug at his long beard.

When it finally came, the answer brought a smile to Octavia's lips.

"What's the matter," demanded Alex, his stubbled face finally making an appearance from inside the cab. "Why are you stopping?"

She gestured at the old man. "He says his wife would be happy to cook a hot meal for us at a reasonable price, and that we might also take a few hour's rest in his barn. But there is even better news...."

He blinked.

"We are some miles to the northwest of Novgorad. That means we should reach St. Petersburg in two days."

Chapter 14

The journey was completed without further adventure. It remained arctic in temperature, but the main roads were well traveled and afforded a number of decent taverns where they were able stop for hot tea laced with sugar and the opportunity to thaw out from the biting cold.

Would that he could dispel the unaccountable chill that had developed between himself and Miss Hadley, thought Alex glumly, as the sleigh drew near the outskirts of the city. Ever since the night of their encounter with the French troops, they had treated each other with excruciating politeness, but an underlying tension had robbed their exchanges of any real warmth. Emma and Nicholas had not missed the subtle change, and their own behavior had become more and more subdued. The animated readings of Mrs. Radcliffe's novel and the spirited debates over the foibles of the various characters had given way to long silences and searching looks. He had avoided the unspoken questions in their eyes, for in truth he was not sure he understood what had happened any more than they did.

Did Octavia think him a lout for daring to kiss her with such fiery abandon? He would never have given in to such emotion if she hadn't been so resolutely determined to march headlong into the jaws of danger with nary a care for herself. Good Lord, he had wanted to shake her, to scold her, to smother her with kisses, all at the same time.

Kisses be damned—what he had really wanted to do was to strip the travelworn clothing from both of their bodies and mold his heated flesh to every delicious curve of her form. He had wanted to make slow, sensuous love to her, and hear her cry out his name as their passion exploded in a shower of white hot sparks.

Ha! When she had spoken to him, it was to call him an obstinate ass! His hands gave an involuntary jerk on the reins. So much for imagining that flowery romance existed outside the pages of a dratted book! In reality, it seemed she was counting the minutes until they reached St. Petersburg, so anxious was she to be rid of his odious presence.

After all, she had made it clear from their first meeting that she thought him no more than a debauched wastrel. The brief interlude of what had appeared to be a more... intimate friendship had no doubt been engendered by mere expediency. There had been precious little choice but to get along with each other in order to survive.

And now?
He would be off to London with Nicholas and Octavia would set herself to finding a caring guardian for Emma. A sharp twinge knifed through him at the thought of the impending separation, causing his mouth to twist in a odd grimace. Surely a hardened rake such as himself was not going to miss a shrewish spinster and a pigtailed twelve-year old? But somehow the idea of their intrepid little family breaking up had his spirits sinking to a low ebb.

A family.
Perhaps he had thought of them as such because he had none other to call his own.

Perhaps he didn't deserve any.

After all, he would only disappoint anyone who was foolish enough to trust in him. How could it be otherwise, when even he didn't trust in himself.

A string of shouted curses caused his head to jerk up, just in time to avoid collision with a cart loaded with turnips. Several other drivers contributed their own rude comments on his prowess with the reins, and Alex found he had no alternative but to devote his full attention to the crowded streets. Progress slowed as the sleigh made its way toward the snaking Neva River, lumbering at a snail's pace past the pastel-colored buildings and long canals that had earned the city its other moniker of "Venice of the North."

After what seemed like an age, he turned the horses into a narrow side street and pulled to halt in front of the seedy boarding house he had used during his first visit to St. Petersburg. Although it seemed highly unlikely that Nicholas's uncle would dare try any desperate acts at this late stage, Alex decided there was no harm in being cautious. Until he could establish contact with the embassy, they would remain hidden among the anonymous dockyard workers and shopgirls of the rough waterfront neighborhood.

He climbed down from his perch and cracked open the door to the cab. "Wait here while I arrange for a room."

"Two rooms," replied Octavia, rather too quickly for his liking.

His jaw tightened. "Until we can move you to a more genteel part of town, it would be wise to continue the masquerade of traveling together. You would find the men here no more apt to respect your person than those you encountered back in the inn."

She made a face but nodded a reluctant assent.

He returned shortly and led them up three flights of rickety stairs to a large room with two smaller bedchambers overlooking a shadowed alleyway. The furnishings were cheap and well used, but at least the place was moderately clean and possessed a small cast iron stove in the far corner. "I've paid for some wood and a jug of water to be brought up," he informed Octavia. "As we have no further need of them, I had better go down and see to disposing of the horses and sleigh."

"While you are out, perhaps you should also see to purchasing some staples for our supper."

He gave a curt nod. "Anything else?"

Eyes averted, she toyed with the strap of her valise. "D—do you intend to stop by the embassy?"