A Sister's Quest (3 page)

As Michelle tried to repair her tattered composure, she sensed Count Vatutin's gaze on her. She should expect that he would be curious about the woman he had hired. She was curious about him, but his cool eyes had kept her from asking any questions. Slowly she faced him. She hoped the motion appeared natural instead of calculated. Pretending was idiotic, she realized, as her eyes met his. Amusement glistened there, warning he had taken note of every nervous motion.

“How long will it take us to reach Vienna?” she asked.

“We are in no hurry, Fraulein.” His pleasing voice resonated through his smile. “The Congress is officially open, but, with Napoleon imprisoned on Elba, the delegates wish to celebrate. I suspect little will be accomplished before the new year.”

“The new year?” She gasped. “My lord, I must be back at school in six weeks. When—”

His smile halted her. “When our work is done, you may return.”

“But why weren't you honest? I would have told you I could not come.” Horror filled her. Was everything he had told Frau Herbart a lie?

“I need your skills, Fraulein.”

“I have no idea how you do things in Russia—”

“Differently than you do in France.”

“I know little about France, my lord.”

“But you were born there.”

She frowned. “You are trying to cloud the issue. I cannot go to Vienna for so long. If you will return me to the school, I am sure—”

“No!” He added as her eyes widened at his abrupt change from jesting to fury, “I have hired you, Fraulein, because you suit my needs. I doubt if there is another who would do as well.”

She sat straighter, hitting her black bonnet against his arm. “Stop this vehicle! I shall walk back if you will not take me there.”

“No.”

“I … I … I—”

“Stop sputtering like a hen.” When she flushed, he crossed one leg over the opposite knee. “The note I left for your headmistress explains the delay in your return.”

“You did what?” In desperation, she looked at the silent man on the facing seat, but he was smiling. “You presume much!”

Count Vatutin shrugged. “I need you. Therefore, I told Frau Herbart we had decided you would stay with me as long as necessary. I doubt if it shall be more than a few months.”

“You are mad!”

“Fraulein D'Orage, the world is insane.” His eyes glinted with frustration. She was not sure if it was aimed at her or someone else. She hoped it was someone else. “A generation of children has grown up thinking war is normal. Do you wish to turn your back on them?”

Michelle tried to pull her fingers out of the strings of her bag, but they were so twisted, she was caught “I have an obligation to St. Bernard's.”

“Which you can fulfill when we are finished.” Smiling, he took her hands and began to unwind the string cutting into her gloved fingers.

She looked from his face to his broad hands. Without his gloves, she could see they were hardened from a life much more strenuous than this one with elegant clothes and a luxurious coach. Count Alexei Vatutin was no more a gentleman diplomat than she was, but she could not guess what he might be.

“Do you often get yourself into such predicaments, Fraulein?” he asked.

Michelle bit back her sharp response, hoping he meant her reticule instead of how he had entangled her life with his. “I make every effort to avoid them.”

“I suspected that.”

She tried to pull her hands out of his. “I can just slip that off.”

As if she had not spoken, he undid the final twist and let her purse drop across his knee. Massaging her fingers, he smiled again. “Would it offend you if I thank you in advance for your help? I know I have approached this in what to you seems an unorthodox manner, but the work we do is important.”

“No, you would not offend me.” She was not sure what else she could say. Drawing her hands away, she snatched her reticule from his lap.

He chuckled. “I am glad my fingers were not tangled in that! You would have pulled them from my wrist.”

Her gaze rose along the sturdy length of his arm to the breadth of his shoulders. The idea that she could do anything to this powerful man was ludicrous.

She gasped as he took her hand and turned it over on his. Running his finger along the lines in her palm, he mused, “We must be a team, Michelle.” He paid no attention to her gasp when he used her given name. Slipping his finger along her wrist, he etched an invisible pattern on her arm.

Fearing she could not breathe as his face came closer, she stared at him. Slowly he curled her fingers beneath his, capturing them in a heated prison of flesh. A warm, silky sensation flowed along her as he drew her toward him.

He tilted her wrist beneath his lips. Raising his gaze, he smiled. He held her eyes as he teased her wrist with a swift kiss. It was as if the lightning had escaped from her mother's ring to rivet her with sweet, dangerous fire.

His mustache brushed her wrist as he whispered, “I must know. Are you coming with us?”

She stared into his eyes, which were half-hidden beneath the golden hair dropping over his forehead. “Do I have a choice?”

“Only one correct one. Before you answer, heed what I wrote to Frau Herbart. If, at any time, you decide to depart, I shall immediately arrange for your transportation to Zurich at my expense.”

“Why didn't you mention that before?”

A queer sound came from the other side of the carriage. Michelle choked back her despair when she realized it was Count Vatutin's assistant's laugh. She had forgotten he was here witnessing how easily the count had seduced her into giving him his way.

“Rusak,” cautioned Count Vatutin in a tone that suggested he was trying not to laugh. “What have you decided, Michelle?”

Fearing she was being foolish, but unwilling to turn her back on adventure before it began, she said, “I will continue to Vienna with you.”

“For as long as I need you?”

“For as long as I can.”

When he smiled with satisfaction, her unease grew. It was not too late to change her mind. Or was it?

The carriage rolled to a stop in front of a country house as the sun sank beyond the mountains. Count Vatutin stepped out and held up his hand. “Fraulein D'Orage?”

“Thank you.” Michelle was proud her voice sounded serene. Placing her fingertips on his palm, she allowed him to assist her to the ground. She lifted her hand away and took a steadying breath.

All day, Count Vatutin either had not noticed her discomfort or had chosen to ignore it. She must set it aside. She was going to Vienna, the very heart of the Hapsburg Empire. In Vienna, she would walk the same streets and view the same sights as kings and queens and emperors. This was the adventure she craved.

As Count Vatutin gave instructions to the coachman, she looked at the inn. The wooden house rose four stories through a row of trees. The steep roof swept down to shelter the porch as well. Along the front of the house, small windows were separated by boards to protect them from the stormy weather off the
Zurichsee
.

Michelle smiled at the lake. They had followed its shores all day. Drawing her cloak more tightly around her, she walked toward a pier. A rickety rowboat waited, rocking with the gentle waves. She had loved rowing with
Maman
on this lake.

“It's lovely, isn't it?”

She flinched when Count Vatutin's voice shattered her memories. A shiver ran along her back. He must have followed her. She hoped he did not intend to intrude on everything she did.

“I think it must be the most beautiful lake in the world,” she answered.

“You were lucky to be here. This was one of the few peaceful places in Europe.”

“Not all of Switzerland has been peaceful.” She could not keep her bitterness silent. “The French renamed us the Helvetic Republic and tried to remold us into a miniature of themselves. When that failed, they stole our young men to fight a war that we never wanted. Now, at last, it is over.”

“Is it?”

She turned. The light wind ruffled his hair. With the waning light on his face, its stern angles were emphasized by shadows. His mustache camouflaged his expressive lips, but the emotions in his eyes refused to be concealed. Rage burned there as brightly as the setting sun.

“It is over,” she whispered, “for as long as we are vigilant.”

His lips tilted in a smile. “You have an excellent grasp of the dangers awaiting us if we become complaisant. I am impressed, although I should not be surprised.”

“As I think that may have been a compliment, thank you.”

“It was indeed a compliment, Michelle.” When she glanced at him in surprise, he added, “I trust I may continue to call you that. It would not be inappropriate.”

“No, it would not,” she said, knowing of no way she could explain how even this slight intimacy seemed too much when so many of her thoughts today had been haunted by the fire in his eyes as he kissed her wrist. When the breeze slipped beneath her cloak, she shivered.

Count Vatutin's keen eyes must have noted it. “Let's go inside and see what meal awaits us. I, for one, shall be glad to sit on something stationary.”

Michelle delighted in the familiar crunch of pine needles beneath their feet. The forest prepared for night while the wind sang a lullaby through the firs. She listened as Count Vatutin spoke of his journey from Paris, where he had been since the Russians dethroned Napoleon.

“Coming to Zurich has taken you many miles out of your way,” she said as he opened the inn's door.

He smiled. “I had my reasons, Michelle. One of which you have fulfilled quite well.”

“You could not find someone to translate for you in France? That—”

“Count Vatutin, welcome, welcome,” called a round, apple-cheeked woman in a dark dress with a brightly embroidered apron. “I am Frau Offenbach. I am honored you have chosen to be our guests.”

Count Vatutin took her hand and bowed over it. Frau Offenbach giggled, her cheeks becoming a deeper shade of rose. He put his hand on Michelle's elbow. She was shocked by the familiar motion and the spark his fingers etched into her.

“Frau Offenbach, this is my companion Fraulein D'Orage.”

The plump woman smiled, but curiosity filled her eyes. “Welcome, Fraulein.”

“Thank you,” she said, not sure what else to say.

She followed the bustling woman into a huge room that was open and airy. The furniture fit its rustic warmth perfectly. Wooden floors glistened with constant care and reflected back the flames on the huge hearth. When hands grazed her shoulders, she gasped.

“A problem, Michelle?” asked Count Vatutin.

Warmth spread up her cheeks as she realized he was lifting off her cloak. She avoided looking at the good humor that must be in his eyes as he gestured for her to follow Frau Offenbach.

Michelle nodded a greeting to Rusak, who was waiting by a long table beside the fireplace. When he ignored her, she wondered what she had done to make him dislike her. That she had been shocked by what had happened to him surely had been the exact reaction the two men had wanted.

“Will you sit, Michelle? Rusak and I are tired, too.”

At Count Vatutin's impatience, she flushed. She had been living in a children's world for so long she had forgotten the men would not sit until she did.

“Thank you,” she managed to mumble.

When he pushed her chair in, his fingers lingered along her back. She glanced up to ask if something was wrong. The glow in his eyes immobilized her. She wanted to look away. She wanted to shrug off his fingers, which quested in a gentle circle. Each caress suffused her with sweetness flowing outward from his touch.

She did not look at him as he pulled out the chair next to her. When a bowl of steaming stew was set in front of her, she picked up a spoon. It was simpler to eat than make conversation.

Michelle was surprised that the food in this roadside inn was so good, but she simply nodded when Count Vatutin asked her if she liked the stew. By doing that, she did not have to look at his piercing eyes.

Only when he had chased the last of the meat out of his bowl with a chunk of bread did Count Vatutin speak. “Rusak, I have made arrangements for Michelle and myself upstairs. Frau Offenbach assured me she has a comfortable room for you on this floor.”

Rusak glared at her. She wanted to remind him that, if he disagreed with Count Vatutin's plans, he should not be angry at her. When he rose, he nodded to Count Vatutin and hurried across the room.

“He shall become accustomed to you, Michelle. 'Tis not easy for Rusak.”

“I suppose not.”

Putting his elbow on the table, Count Vatutin rested his cheek on his fist. His other arm settled on the back of her chair. When she glanced at it, he smiled, but did not move it away. “I know you are bursting with questions. Go ahead.”

“Here?”

“No one is paying any attention.” Laughing, he picked up a mug of beer and left foam streaking his mustache. “Go ahead with your questions before they erupt past your pretty lips.”

She refused to let him taunt her into reacting to his bold compliments. Folding her arms in front of her, she said, “Count Vatutin, I believe I would be more effective in helping you if you explained my duties more clearly.”

He poured wine into a glass and offered it to her. “I thought I'd made my needs very clear. I need an interpreter. Already I have seen that your German is superior to mine.”

“Thank you.” She sipped the wine and forced herself to swallow without coughing. She had forgotten the bite of wine that had not been watered for children.

“It was not intended to be a compliment. I trust you will not be dismayed if I ask you to do a few other tasks for me.”

“Such as?”

“Nothing onerous, I promise you.” A smile teased the corners of his lips. “Taking notes, making arrangements when we entertain, and such things. I trust you can handle that.”