Splendor (29 page)

Taichili sailed forward, a dangerous hght in her eyes. "His Excellency has employed Miss Browne as the princess's companion. Your Highness. Miss Browne was asking Katya a riddle."

Marie-Elena swept past Taichili to stand in front of Carolyn and Katya. "A riddle? Is that what you intend? To amuse my daughter with foolish jests?"

Very uneasy, but prepared to stand her ground, Carolyn stood. "There is no harm in a riddle," she began slowly. "To the contrary."

"There is every harm," Marie-Elena cried.

Carolyn instantly knew that the other woman was not reasonable. The other woman hated her—with good cause. She could probably sense how drawn Carolyn was to her husband. Guilt consumed Carolyn. Yet nothing, really, had happened between her and Sverayov, and her intentions were honorable. Carolyn spoke with care. "Laughter is an important part of childhood, Your Highness. Especially, I thinJc, for your daughter."

"My daughter is extremely intelligent, too intelligent to be amused by your nonsense." Marie-Elena's eyes were black flashing orbs, but suddenly they leveled on Katya and she smiled. How eerie it was, that brilliant, dazzling smile and those dangerous black eyes. "Katya, baby, am I not right?"

Katya nodded, biting her lip.

Marie-Elena swung her head and stsired at Carolyn. Even though she was a couple of inches shorter than Carolyn, she somehow managed to look down her nose at her. "You are the last person to tell me what is good for my own daughter. Do you understand?"

Carolyn stiffened. "I apologize if I have overstepped my bounds," she began, "but my job is to nourish your daughter, intellectually and emotionally. I—"

"Nourish my daughter!" Marie-Elena was sarcastic. "My daughter is not a plant in your garden. Miss Browne. I don't want you here. I will not allow you to be here. Miss Browne—and I intend to do whatever I have to, to see that you are dismissed."

For one moment, Carolyn remained silent, her pulse pounding, in shock. Even Taichili was pale. No threat could have been more clear. "Your Highness, I am only here as a companion to your daughter. I wish only to help Katya." But she was thinking, this is far worse than she had anticipated. How could she remain? If Marie-Elena would act like this? Attacking her so bluntly?

Marie-Elena flashed a cold smile and reached down and took Katya's hand. "I know exactly why you are here. Miss Browne, and it has nothing to do with my daughter."

Carolyn was taken aback.

"Come, baby. We had such a good time the other day that I have decided you can go out with me again. Your lessons can wait." Marie-Elena continued to smile coldly.

Katya's eyes widened. Carolyn immediately saw that she was torn, at once wanting to go with her mother and wanting to stay. "My lady," she said quickly, "Katya is about to begin an essay. Perhaps she could step out with you another time?"

"Do not tell me when I can and cannot see my own daughter." Marie-Elena pulled Katya forward. "Taichili, she will be back for tea." And the pair disappeared through the door—but not before Katya flung one last look at Carolyn over her shoulder. Was it a silent plea for help?

Carolyn was trembling and damp with perspiration. She was shocked over what had transpired.

"You!" Taichili whirled. "I hope you are happy with the chaos you have wrought!" Grimly, she pushed past Carolyn.

And Carolyn found herself standing alone in the classroom, aching not for herself, but for the child.

Clad in a black tailcoat, pale satin breeches and stockings, and an exquisite white shirt, Nicholas knotted his cravat, facing the mirror over a side table in the library. Not turning, his eyes met Carolyn's in the looking glass. "You wished to see me?" he asked.

She hesitated on the room's threshold, clearly surprised and discomfited to find him finishing his toilette in the library rather than upstairs. But his wife was upstairs, pacing her bedroom in a fit of pique. Nicholas had no wish to learn what was bothering Marie-Elena, not that he could not guess, and he had decided to finish his preparations for a night about town downstairs. He watched her blush, and slowly, he turned. Not for the first time, he wondered if hiring her as Katya's companion was a mistake.

He faced her, their gazes locking.

"Yes," she said huskily.

"Do come in. Close the door if you wish." She did as he asked and came forward. "You seem disturbed. Miss Browne." It was not a question. He would have been surprised if she had not been disturbed after her first day in his employ.

"I am very disturbed." But her gaze held his unflinchingly.

"What has happened?" He was quiet, but alarm bells were ringing inside his head.

Carolyn worried- her hands. "I have met extreme opposition from Taichili—and from your wife."

He nodded, not relieved, even though he had been anticipating this, and motioned her to take a seat. When she had settled on the sofa, he sat down facing her. He saw now

how still her small hands were on her skirts. "I will deal with Taichili immediately. I will also deal with my wife."

Her color increased. "I do not want to cause a problem between you and her."

He eyed her. "I have no intention of responding to that remark and thereby discussing my marriage with you."

**I realize that. I apologize. I ... I am very fond of your daughter, Your Excellency. But I question my ability to be helpful, given the circumstances."

He stood. Thinking of the circumstances—precisely. That is, he was thinking of her going upstairs to her bedchamber to spend the night—a thought he refused to entertain no matter that it would not leave his mind. But she was there in his house. This was not going to be as simple as he had thought. He had been distracted all day. Hoping for a glimpse of her, a word, a smile. It was insane.

"You cannot run out now, at the very first sign of difficulty. I give you far more credit than that, Carolyn. I know you are a woman of strength and courage."

Carolyn stared, her cheeks pinker than before. "I did, for a moment, think of leaving. But Katya is the reason I shall stay on. At least"—her color increased—"until she departs for Russia."

He was relieved. ' *I have spoken to the physicians. I am told my wife can travel in another seven days. I am making arrangements as we speak for her to return home." His gaze found and held hers again.

And he did not want to even think about it, but how could he not? It was going to be very different when Marie-Elena was gone, and Carolyn continued on in his household. He knew of several men, in his position, who had had liaisons with the governesses of their children.

From his point of view, it was not wrong. But he knew Carolyn could not be happy in such an arrangement.

She took him by surprise. "You seem morose tonight. Excellency. Is something amiss?"

He started, smiling faintly. "I have much on my mind."

She might have guessed just what was on his mind, be-

cause her high color did not fade. She wet her lips. '*Can I be of any help?"

Instantly, an image flashed through his thoughts, of her and him, entwined in his bed. He became furious with himself. "No." His tone was harsh.

She stared.

He paced. "How can I be of help to you regarding my daughter?" he asked, purposefully steering the conversation back where it belonged.

She worried her hands. "We must discuss Katya's schedule."

"Is there something wrong with it?"

"Yes. It must be rearranged." She hesitated. "In fact, I would like to rearrange her schedule—and program—entirely."

He began to smile. "Oh, really?"

Carolyn nodded. "There is much she should be learning. Excellency. I understand that Russian history and the social graces are rather, er, important, but what about anthropology? For example?" —

He slowly smiled. "Anthropology. Is that not the study of foreign cultures?"

She stepped forward eagerly. "It is. I thought we could start with the study of Egypt—as the war has made that country so popular recently."

"I see. I imagine you have other ideas on the subject of my daughter's education?"

She hesitated. "First tell me how you feel if I add the subject of anthropology?''

He laughed outright. "I applaud it."

"You do?" She gasped.

"Yes." He relaxed. Realizing now that he had been anxious, thinking she might leave her post. And in spite of how complicated her being in his household had become, he wanted her here—it was right. "I am giving you complete authority over my daughter. Did I not make that clear when I hired you? Raffaldi and Taichili report to you. You

shall manage my daughter's entire care, and that includes her education."

Carolyn gasped again. She cried, "Are you sincere?"

He smiled. "I thought you were about to say, 'Are you mad?' "

And she smiled, sharing his amusement. '*That was my next question," she admitted.

He sobered. "I am sincere. And if Taichili does not like the situation, she may leave. I can replace her easily enough—there are many Taichilis here and at home."

"I agree," Carolyn said.

"Raffaldi will not mind. He is quite genial. So, now you have the scope of your authority. Devise a new schedule and, with it, an entire new prograq^ Present it to me when it is complete. I will study it, make my additions or deletions as need be, but I feel assured your program will remain mostly intact." He had to smile at her stunned expression. Her eyes had turned a brilliant shade of green, mirroring her excitement. He could not catch himself in time to prevent his next words. "I am certain you have heard this many times, but your eyes are extraordinary,** he heard himself say.

She inhaled. One sharp rise and fall of her bosom beneath her sprigged day dress. "No." She was frank, hoarse. "No. I have never heard such a compliment before."

"Then the men you associate with are fools." He abruptly turned away from her, aimoyed with himself. He was crossing a very fine line. When he had employed her, he had committed himself to a restriction of his interest in her. For there were many women in London for him to dally with, but not the companion of his daughter—not given the nature of these circumstances.

Nicholas did not look at her as he walked to his desk, where he feigned an interest in what lay atop it. "Is there anything else?" he asked.

There was no answer.

He glanced up, and saw that she was gone. He cursed.

Carolyn was exhilarated.

She would spend the evening devising Katya's new program, and a new schedule to accompany it. There was no desk in her bedchamber where she might work, and Carolyn intended to use the classroom—until she arrived there and found Taichili seated at one of the desks, apparently penning letters. The governess stopped what she was doing, looking up, her expression unpleasant. Carolyn stared back at her, dismayed. There was no possible way she could revamp Katya's program in front of the governess. She had no idea if Taichili even knew yet that her authority had been subverted. She did not look forward to resolving the crisis that would surely ensue.

Carolyn smiled. "I meant to go the other way down the hall—I am looking for something to read. Good night."

Taichih barely replied.

Carolyn hurried back down the hall, clutching a notebook in one hand, thinking, why not? Both Sverayov and his wife were on the town for the evening, and she knew firsthand how late the aristocrats stayed out. Surely no one would mind if she worked in the library—least of all the master of the house.

The ground floor of the town house was dark and silent. Carolyn did not see a soul as she traversed a corridor and slipped into the library, which was unlit and filled with shadows. She made her way carefully to Sverayov's desk, lighting a lamp. Carolyn sat down in his chair and opened her notebook, all thoughts of Sverayov gone, immersed now in speculation, brimming with ideas. She intended to reduce the importance of certain smdies in Katya's life, such as dance, floral arrangement, and watercolors, while increasing the amount of time spent on other, more worthy pursuits. And of course, she would add certain exciting new subjects as well. Carolyn realized she was being given an incredible opportunity to mold and develop a bright little girl's mind, in defiance of the current mode of conventional education, which seemed strucmred only to fetter a woman's mind to the will of pompous men.

Carolyn was not aware of the passing of time until she heard voices in the hall, one male, one female. She froze. She had left the library door open, and there was no mistaking who had returned home—both Sverayov and Marie-Elena. Her heart lurched. She could only assume that they had gone somewhere together. And why shouldn't they? They might be estranged, but they were man and wife.

Their voices were becoming louder—they were approaching the library.

Carolyn heard Sverayov saying, with anger and annoyance, "Is this why you chose to leave the fete with me?"

"I am not allowed to ride home with my husband?" Marie-Elena replied in her husky tone.

Carolyn was standing, her heart pounding with explosive force—and she did not think twice but snuffed the lamp's wick as Sverayov retorted, "You have not returned home with me in many_ years, my dear. And frankly, I am in no mood to discuss anything with you tonight." He had barely finished his second sentence when he appeared on the library's threshold, but Carolyn was ahready under the desk where she crouched, shaking and breathless.

"But I am in the mood for a discussion," Marie-Elena said, apparently following him into the library.

The library was suddenly cast in light as Sverayov lit a large table lamp. His buckled patent shoes passed closely by the desk. Carolyn could also see the hem of Marie-Elena's ball gown, which was red and trimmed with black lace. She hugged her knees, wishing she had made herself known instead of hiding—and eavesdropping. For if she were discovered now, she would be accused of just that. And then she recalled the fact that she had left her notebook open on the table and her heart, literally, stopped.

"I want to discuss that commoner—that bookseller's daughter," Marie-Elena said petulantly.

Carolyn grimaced. Even though Marie-Elena's words should not hurt, they did.