Seized by Love (13 page)

"You're right,
Ami!" Maria exclaimed with renewed hope. "Go quickly and tell Prince
Kuzan. He won't let our Alisa be hurt!"

Racing down the back stairs
and out to the stables, Ami saddled one of Forseus's swiftest horses and was
galloping down the long driveway in less than five minutes.

That same morning, Prince
Kuzan was being dressed for his return to the city. He was still in a black
fury, kicking furniture about, cursing loud and long in three languages with a
fluency that amazed even Yukko, abusing his steward and any other servant who
was unfortunate enough to come within his line of vision.

Nikki's troopers who had
accompanied him out to his hunting lodge were mounted in the courtyard,
nervously eyeing each other and hoping Prince Kuzan's rage didn't descend on
their heads.

For the last twenty
minutes, as their horses restively sidled and fidgeted beneath them, a steady
stream of explosive invective had been issuing from the open windows of the
lodge. Initially, the cursing had resounded from the second floor, and
presently the main floor rang with violent verbal denunciations as Nikki
descended to spread his wrath democratically on breakfast, butler, cook, and
steward. The coffee was too hot, the eggs were too cold, the butler didn't pour
the brandy rapidly enough—the arrangement of luggage in the front hall grossly
offended him, so the poor steward was frantically having footmen dispatching
the offending luggage out of sight of their master. It was quickly loaded into
the waiting wagon and sent out of view around the corner of the building.

Ten minutes more and three
healthy bumpers of brandy later, Nikki emerged from the front entrance and
critically surveyed his troop now drawn up in parade-ground precision. Even the
careful scrutiny found nothing to criticize. The Prince threw himself into the
saddle and swept one more glance around his familiar environs. Each vista only
served to further remind him of Alisa. We walked there. We sat down there.
Alisa admired those flower beds. I showered her in rose petals from that
climbing rambler. The sun was warm on their bodies that day. Damn her
voluptuous memory! And that's what it was, he irritably reminded himself,
nothing more than a memory!

The black bulk of his
favorite horse, Koli, was comfortingly familiar beneath the saddle. Nikki made
a soft clicking noise with his tongue, and Koli swung his ears back,
anticipating his master's command. Nikki's grip relaxed on the reins and he
moved his horse forward at a slow walk. There was no shouted command. A slight
sigh was heard, a passing zephyr as the troopers inhaled a breath of relief.
They were on their way at last! Saddles groaned as men gripped harder with
their knees.

Nikki could hear the
harnesses of his men's mounts jingle behind him and the pad of hooves on the
soft dirt of the road. The troop traveled slowly in the warm air of the spring
morning, following the road that curved languidly over pine- and birch-clad
hills and valleys, traversing the vast Kuzan estate.

Nikki's thoughts were on
Alisa. After three bottles of brandy, after a restless, tormented night of
little sleep, after relentlessly reminding himself that he was a fool—after all
that he wanted her still, and that insistent feeling couldn't be dismissed.

Within twenty minutes the
southern border of his hunting reserve was crossed. He must force thoughts of
Alisa from his mind. Too much mental recrimination was debilitating. The past
was gone. Their brief affair was over. Nikki gently spurred his horse to a
trot. With the trot, the ring of metal harness intensified and softly resounded
in the quiet morning air. As Nikki nudged Koli gently with his knees, they
increased to a canter. Seconds later, feeling only the lightest of pressure
from Nikki's legs, the black stallion snorted, changed his pace with that faint
encouragement from his rider, and the troop was in full gallop. Nikki surveyed
the road ahead. He began to visibly relax as the comfortable rhythm of a
familiar horse, the warm spring air, and the exhilaration a full-out gallop
always evoked soothed his churlish temper. In seven hours of hard riding they'd
be in Petersburg.

Ami had ridden
cross-country to the hunting lodge only to discover that the Prince had left
for Petersburg thirty minutes before. Lashing his horse, Ami continued in frantic
pursuit of the Prince. He couldn't hope to overtake Prince Kuzan with that
great a head start unless he cut over the fields and through the forests. Ami
dug his spurs into Forseus's bay mare. The horse leapt the first fence and
charged across the plowed field.

As Nikki's troop was riding
in correct formation, following the Prince's blooded stallion, a rider became
visible, galloping diagonally across their line of vision from east to west.
They all granted he must be a fine rider to be forcing his mount that
recklessly across that uneven field. Soon he could be heard shouting something,
wildly waving his arms, but the message was lost in the morning breeze. As the
man galloped hell-for-leather directly toward them, Nikki drew to a halt. A few
moments later Ami thundered up, sawed his horse to a rearing stop before Nikki,
who was firmly keeping his skittish animal in check before the flailing hoofs
of the rearing horse, and gasped out his message, "Alisa's in danger!
Forseus has beaten her and locked her in the shed! She appears unconscious
and—"

Ami's sentence was left
hanging in the air as Nikki savagely swung his horse around and charged back
past the halted ranks of his troopers. He waved his sergeant to give orders to
follow.

There was no time for speculation,
little enough time for thought. Alisa was in danger. No doubt because of him.

Within seconds the troop
was once again in full gallop. Nikki forced the huge black hard, pressing him
furiously.

Damn sadistic misogynist!
He'd break Forseus's neck with his bare hands! Beaten her again, had he? It
would be the last beating that old reprobate would ever administer! He'd see
him burn in hell!

Ami had kept pace with
Nikki. Nikki kneed Koli alongside the groom and shouted, "How long ago did
you leave her?"

"About forty minutes
ago!" Ami yelled in reply.

Nikki prayed he wasn't too
late. All his frustrated fury of the morning had a new outlet—Valdemar Forseus!

Koli was flagging by the
time Forseus's driveway was in sight, his mouth foaming, his flanks running
with sweat. Nikki kept him at a gallop up the long driveway. Nearing the main
house, Nikki snatched the pistol from his saddle holster and twenty troopers
followed suit. He spun Koli sideways, reining hard to ease around the east wall
of the house, and rode headlong into the stable yard, glanced briefly around
the outbuildings, spied the shed, and hauled his stallion to a stop in front of
the building.

Jumping down, he tossed his
pistol aside, flung his huge frame against the locked door, and both hinges
shattered at the violent impact. Two of his men who had dashed to his
assistance lifted the door away.

In the dim light of the
empty room Nikki saw Alisa's figure lying motionless, her tattered clothing
scarcely covering her bruised and torn flesh. Rapidly divesting himself of his
braided tunic, he wrapped Alisa gently in the garment and gathered her from the
dirty floor into his arms.

She was so still! My God!
Had Forseus killed her this time? He carefully scanned her pale face, so close
to his, and was relieved to see faint color on her cheeks. Walking outside, he
carefully laid her on the ground on a blanket hastily retrieved from a
haversack, covered her lightly with another blanket, and began snapping orders.

"Find Forseus for me!
I want that foul monster dragged out from wherever he is. Fetch some brandy for
the lady! I want some lint and warm water! Immediately!"

Everyone scattered to obey
his commands.

Ami was kneeling at his
mistress's side, tears of rage in his eyes. Then he peered at her more closely.
"I believe she's been drugged, Prince," he cried.

Nikki leaned over the
slight, almost still form and felt for a pulse. Slowly he pulled her eyelids
back to reveal vacant red eyes. Carefully closing the lids once more, he nodded
agreement. "You're right. We must have her away from that fiend. You were
right to come for me."

"What can we do?"
Ami asked, terrified.

"Find her daughter and
her maidservants." Nikki was aware of Alisa's affection for her old
servants. And certainly Ami's loyalty must be rewarded with safety from
Forseus's wrath. "Do you wish to accompany your mistress?"

"I go where Miss Alisa
goes," Ami said gravely. "I promised her father."

"Very well, assemble
those servants who wish to come with us, her daughter, and a change of clothing
for Alisa. Take nothing more from this barbarous pig Forseus. After I've dealt
with him, we'll leave."

Maria came to Alisa within
minutes with warm water to bathe her face, but the drugged woman didn't respond
and could accept no brandy.

The troopers' careful
searching turned up no master of the house. Frightened servants explained that
he and the son had ridden into Vüpuri early that morning.

"As well," Nikki
muttered grimly. His father wouldn't have appreciated Nikki murdering a
neighbor.

Alisa was placed in Nikki's
arms once he mounted, and the cavalcade slowly retraced the route of its
headlong chase. Ami held Katelina while Maria and Rakeli rode behind two
sergeants. Returning within the hour to the Petersburg road, the troop
continued to the first post stop, where Nikki's luggage wagon and carriage had
been left instructions to wait. The servants, Katelina, and Alisa were placed
into Nikki's beautifully sprung landau and continued the journey south.

Aleksei greeted the strange
group of guests late that afternoon when they and Nikki entered the town palace
of pink Finnish and Siberian marble, situated just east of the Hermitage on
Millionnaya, the most genteel street of old Petersburg. The serene classical
palace facing the Neva was built between 1768 and 1785 as a present from the
Empress Catherine II to her favorite Platon Kuzan.

A doctor was immediately
called to Alisa's bedside and pronounced her out of danger. The dose of
laudanum had been powerful but not fatal. For two days and nights Nikki kept
servants around the clock at Alisa's bedside to monitor her needs as she
drifted between sleeping and waking. On the morning of the third day, when he
checked in to see what her condition was, Alisa was reclining comfortably
against numerous lace-trimmed pillows, totally awake.

"You're looking much
better this morning." Nikki smiled warmly in greeting. "For the past
few days it's been like having the Sleeping Beauty in our midst."

"I must thank you for
rescuing me in such a fairy-tale fashion." Alisa smiled gravely in return.
"Maria told me everything. I'd despaired of surviving Mr. Forseus's last
tantrum." Tears came to her eyes. Kneeling by her bedside, Nikki gently
brushed them away.

And later to Nikki's
insistent questioning Alisa related the proceedings after she'd arrived home to
find Mr. For-seus there. Nikki paced the room as she told him of her beating,
of finally becoming unconscious. Murderous thoughts sprang to his mind.

"He'll never again
dare touch you, by God," Nikki said grimly as Alisa finished her story.
Then once more he went to her and took her hand. "You're safe here with
me."

"Oh, but I can't
accept your hospitality for long. Surely, your parents won't like strangers in
their home."

Not wishing to enter into
that argument again, Nikki temporized placatingly, "You're not quite
yourself yet, so please accept my hospitality, at least temporarily, and as for
my mother and father, they haven't entered this threshold in over three years,
much preferring the air of the country. So rest assured, you'll not be
disturbed.

"Now, please, ask for
anything you require, and I hope your health soon returns, although you're
looking remarkably fit this morning," he added with a languid smile.
"Perhaps you could join me for dinner this evening. Now I must be off briefly
for regimental duties. Au revoir."

"Au revoir, and thank
you again. I hope I'll be able to repay you someday."

You shall, dear, you shall,
Nikki reflected as he strode down the hall resplendent in full regimentals, the
silver braid brilliant against the white superfine tunic, his dark hair still
damp from his bath and curling at the nape of his neck over the stiff,
silver-embellished collar. With an uncharacteristic flash of romantic sympathy
he'd not only refrained from touching the beautiful, warm sleeping woman so
inviting in her helpless vulnerability, but had, more remarkably, eschewed
other women in the past three days. No Gypsies on the Islands, no Countess, no
ballet dancers. With a curious whimsy the Prince rather fancied waiting for the
sleeping lady. He hadn't realized he had such high-minded instincts, but it
wasn't all earnest moral principles, for he'd spent a lot of time in taking
cold baths and chastising himself for acting in such a ridiculous manner.

Nikki was in charity with
the world and in such superb spirits that morning that even an insistent note
from his mistress, Countess Amalienborg, greeting him at breakfast didn't deter
his fine humor. Sophie had apparently heard of his house guest (gossip travels
fast below stairs) and had requested his company at a small card party that
evening. He scrawled a short acceptance across the bottom of her perfumed
stationery and dispatched the message by footman.