Seized by Love (16 page)

It was impossible for
Katelina to sit tamely on the velvet upholstery. She hopped about, asking
questions, excitedly pointing out items that interested her and demanding and
getting most of Nikki's attention. Alisa was pleased to see that adjusting to a
new environment was evidently not going to be a problem for her daughter. With
Katelina's natural curiosity, vitality, and open, affectionate nature, each new
experience was avidly enjoyed. As Katelina's father had studiously avoided her
since her birth five years before, no emotional pangs of separation had
developed since leaving Vüpuri.

Katelina had wrung a
promise from Nikki to ride to the Summer Gardens first, and as they approached
the Gardens, the other occupants of fashionable carriages out to enjoy the
balmy temperatures were astounded to see the city's most sought after bachelor
riding with a beautiful young woman, a nanny, and a child!

Two smartly uniformed
Chevalier Gardes astride magnificent blacks rode up to the carriage as Rakeli
and Katelina were disembarking to take in a short expedition to feed the swans.
The coachman finished tying the horses to a hitching post and retired to the
shade of a nearby tree.

Both officers bowed deeply
from their saddles and the fair-haired young lieutenant remarked politely to
Nikki, "Good morning, Nikki, I don't believe we've met your charming
companion before."

"No, that's right, you
haven't," Nikki replied rudely. "Now, get about your business,"
he added discourteously, and sketched them a brief salute. With no rebuke
possible to that direct cut, they wheeled their horses and left, puzzled at his
response.

"It looks like our
Colonel has discovered a new bit of fluff he's jealously guarding," the
young blond subaltern remarked to his companion with a chuckle as they
continued their leisurely canter down the Admiralteski.

"Nikki in public with
a child is enough to shock the most redoubtable aplomb. Do you think it's
his?"

"Can't say. With that
red hair, the little girl looks like her mother, not like Countess Souvanieff's
last child that bore the stamp of Nikki Kuzan so blatantly, it fair took your
breath away."

As these speculations were
being bandied about farther down the avenue, Nikki and Alisa were interrupted
once again by a passing horseman. Major Cernov, riding up to the open carriage,
doffed his hat in greeting. Nikki's face set into a scowl.

"So nice to see you
once
again,
Mrs. Forseus," Cernov said pointedly with a lopsided grin, and
his Oriental eyes narrowed speculatively.

Alisa flushed hotly at the
insinuating tone of the greeting and at the eyes that stripped her.

"Good morning,"
she returned coolly, angered at the bold scrutiny he was directing at her.

"Haven't seen you at
the Yacht or Nobles' Clubs lately, Nikki. LaSalle Square and the islands seem
quite dull without you, but now I can see good reason for your absence."

"I didn't know my
absences were noted with such assiduity," Nikki observed dryly.

"Come now, don't be so
modest, Nikki; as you well know, your activities have been substantial material
for on-dits and observation since you were a mere stripling."

"Surely people have
better things to occupy their time than listen to absurd gossip. In point of
fact, don't you have some more pressing business, Gregor? We wouldn't want to
detain you," Nikki said, brushing off yet another attempt at conversation.

"As you wish, Nikki.
Your servant, Madame," Cernov said soothingly as he took the rather direct
suggestion amiably. Taking a silk wipe from his sleeve, Cernov flicked an
imaginary speck of dust from his spotless cavalry boots, pushed the kerchief
back into his sleeve so a few inches trailed elegantly below his silver-braided
cuff, wheeled his horse to leave, and winked at Nikki.

"If Tanya's pattern
should reoccur, please inform me. I'd be interested in the merchandise."

"Don't get greedy,
Cernov," Nikki quietly retorted. Cernov's long, flowing mustache only
twitched as his thin lips smiled faintly. "I'm a patient man,
mon ami,
no hurry." He gently spurred his horse to a trot and disappeared into the
stream of carriages and riders.

"What did that
insolent cur mean by merchandise?" Al-isa asked, knowing full well what
he'd meant. "And who is Tanya?"

"Don't get your temper
up, dear. Tanya was an old friend and Cernov knows very well that you're under
my protection, so he won't bother you, I'm sure."

"Under your
protection?"
Alisa sputtered, flushing vividly as the obvious and
unmistakable clarity of his explanation struck her. Of course, she should have
realized. How very stupid of her. The full implication of what the public
reaction to her situation would be left her momentarily stunned, devoured with
shame. She was exceedingly thankful, for the first time since her parents'
death, that they
weren't
alive to see the terrible depths to which she
had fallen, the sordid fate outlined for her.

All those years with that
beast Forseus she'd patiently waited until Katelina was older and had planned
on leaving, having saved some money as she could, with the expectation of that
flight. Now, through nothing more than her own sensuous weakness in succumbing
to the devastat-ingly charming advances of Prince Kuzan, she was deprived of
even the comfortless life of Forseus's estate.

Irritated at the masterful
certainty of Nikki's assumption, and resentful to be treated once more like a
piece of property, she coldly said, "I don't recall placing myself under
your protection."

"Come now, love,"
Nikki said reasonably, "if you recall, when I found you in that shed, your
alternatives were surely limited; more severe beatings and possibly death if
Forseus had continued drugging you. Hardly a choice of options, I should think.
And consider it now," Nikki urged amiably, "plenty of advantages,
especially if one has already shown a
decided
partiality for the man
one has as protector. I'm not considered ungenerous, and if you contrive to
please me in the future as well as you have to this date, we shall deal
together quite easily."

Taking umbrage at his
arrogant presumption that her role was to please
him,
Alisa
indignantly said, "I haven't any
decided
partiality for you, you
arrogant lecher, and furthermore—"

"Give me three minutes
alone with you, my dear," Nikki interjected suavely, "and I feel sure
I can restore my credit on that account."

Her eyes dropped shamefully
before his candid regard, but she was angry enough to thrust aside the brief
feeling of embarrassment, continuing belligerently. "Maria has some money
of mine she brought with us. I'm not in
need
of protection."

"Not enough to buy you
one decent gown, let alone support yourself, a child, and three servants,"
Nikki disagreed bluntly with his typical disregard for tact.

"Well, then,"
Alisa insisted heatedly, "I'm relatively well educated, young, and strong.
I can obtain a position as governess."

"I agree in principle
with your idea, but unfortunately, the pressures of existence in this world of
travail serve to daunt the most optimistic hopes." His words were uttered
in a lazy, mocking drawl. "For you, the role of governess"— the
sarcasm in his voice was all too apparent—"is quite a pleasant conceit, my
dear. You
will
forgive my speaking frankly, but I fear you are lacking
in a sense of the realities of things.

"
If
—I say,
if
—any
wife in her right mind would allow a provokingly beautiful young woman like
yourself to enter her household, I'd wager a small fortune, the master of that
house would be sharing your bed within the week. Consider the folly of the
notion, love. At least with me there'd be no indignant wife to throw you and
your retinue out into the street when her husband's preferences became obvious.
And since I have a rather intimate knowledge of many of these wives, I think my
opinion is to be relied upon. And as your protector," he continued
equably, "I, of course, feel an obligation to maintain your daughter and
servants in luxurious comfort."

"I am not a plaything
to be bought!" Alisa said feelingly.

"Ah, my dear, but you
are. Confess, it is a woman's role, primarily a pretty plaything for a man's
pleasure and then inexorably as night follows day—a mother. Those are the two
roles a woman plays. It's preordained. Don't fight it," he said
practically.

Alisa would have done
anything, she felt at that moment, to wipe that detestable look of smugness
from Nikki's face.

"Perhaps I'll take
Cemov up on his offer after all," she said with the obvious intent to
provoke. "Is he richer than you? I must weigh the advantages if I'm to
make my way profitably in the demimonde," she went on calculatingly.
"Since I'm merely a plaything, it behooves me to turn a practical frame of
mind to the role of demirep and sell myself for the highest price in money and
rank obtainable. I have a certain refinement of background without the stench
of the ghetto, which is surely worth a few roubles more, and I play the piano,
though, I must confess, with more skill than talent; of course, I embroider a
fine stitch, hardly of interest in the boudoir, I fear. I dance rather
gracefully, if you
will
pardon the immodesty of boasting; sketch and
paint, am fluent in Latin, French, German, again, alas, of little consequence
once the lights are out."

With an uncharitable
pleasure Alisa noticed her words had the effect of erasing the objectionable
look of smugness from Nikki's face, to be abruptly replaced by a glowering
frown.

"Desist in the
cataloguing if you please," he broke in rudely, and in a dangerously cold
voice murmured, "Let us not cavil over trifles. You're staying with
me." Alisa involuntarily quailed before the stark, open challenge in his
eyes, and her heart sank in a most unpleasant way.

"So my life is a
trifle?" she whispered, trembling with a quiet inner violence.

"You misunderstand, my
dear," the even voice explained with just a touch of impatience.
"It's simply that I don't intend to enter into any senseless wrangles or
debates over your attributes and the direction in which your favors are to be
bestowed. Madame, you're to remain my mistress." His lips smiled faintly
but his tawny gaze was chill.

Alisa closed her eyes
momentarily as she reached the final point of renunciation of all the ideals of
her youth. Then, lifting her chin resolutely, she said sarcastically, "In
that case, I suppose I must thank you for your generous hospitality."

"Not at all,"
Nikki coolly replied. "I expect my generosity to be amply repaid."

Rakeli and Katelina
returned at that moment to cut short the sharp retort Alisa was about to utter.
They gaily jabbered on about the swans and flowers and statues as Nikki turned
to speak to Alisa.

"We'll stop at Madame
Vevay's next. She isn't Worth, but since your wardrobe must be replenished
immediately, we'll settle for a local modiste," Nikki said, giving the
coachman a signal to leave.

The first of her commands,
Alisa resentfully thought, in her role as mistress.

"Does that require an
answer, Lord Prince," she inso-lently inquired. "You must help me
acquire the proper conduct for one of my class."

"I look forward to the
tuition," he quietly replied, his voice not carrying beyond her ears.
"Somehow I feel you have a natural talent for at least a portion of the
requirements," he finished, amusement rife in his tone.

Alisa coldly sat next to
Nikki, her ankles crossed neatly, her hands folded together in her lap, and
lapsed into an outraged, vengeful silence, answering only in curt monosyllables
when he addressed her directly. After several rebuffs to his conversational
sallies, Nikki leaned over and whispered teasingly into her ear, "Maybe
Forseus wasn't crazy after all when he beat you. You're singularly provoking
and impertinent for a woman."

She shot him a look of
black fury and hissed, "You have yet to see my full impertinence,
sir."

"In that case, I look
forward to the future with pleasant anticipation," Nikki retorted, and a
level gaze of challenge issued from under half-lowered lids.

Rakeli and Katelina were so
engrossed in their sightseeing that they were oblivious of the sotto-voce
contre-dit
going on across from them.

Within minutes they were
alighting before the fashionable facade of Madame Vevay. Nikki, in an agreeable
mood, as he always was when he had his own way, was all courtesy and easy
manners as he escorted them into the gilded establishment of the haute
couturiere of Petersburg, the interior in flattering emulation of Worth's in
Paris, all green silk, gold, and mahogany.

Seeing the elegant equipage
depositing its passengers, Madame Vevay came sweeping toward the door with a
finely controlled hauteur and was momentarily arrested in mid-glide when Prince
Nikolai Kuzan stepped through her delicately grilled plate-glass doors,
escorting a ravishing beauty, but most startling, and the object of Madame