A Sister's Quest (17 page)

“So all of this is part of your plan?”

“I learned to use what comes my way.”

“Another lesson from
Maman
?”

His eyes became green slits at her bitter question. “She was a master,
Liebchen
.”

“Then she died.”

Crossing the room back to her, he untied her bonnet and lifted it away slowly, but her hair swirled around her face. “Yes,” he whispered, “then she died.”

“And I can never be her.” She clasped her hands to keep from reaching up to the strong angle of his jaw and the lines from laughter at the corners of his eyes. His face was not as classically handsome as Bartholomew's, for life had left its indelible imprint.

He picked up a book and set it on the mantel as he said, “We need to get back and help Rusak in the other room. It will be a huge job.”

“Alexei, I am glad you joined me for shopping today.” She squeezed his arm, then walked to the door.

“
Liebchen
?”

She paused as he walked toward her. He looked into her eyes while he gently drew up her sleeve to settle it on her shoulder. When she caught his hand, he pulled it away as gently.

“We need to help Rusak,” he said, edging around the broken furniture in the hallway.

Michelle folded her hands on her disheveled bodice. She could not have mistaken the disappointment in his jade eyes. She
had
seen it. But if he regretted not continuing, why had he halted? She wished she could ask him, but he would not answer that question either.

Rusak was stacking the ruined pieces in one corner. Some of it might be salvageable, but very little. When Alexei suggested they all sit, it took a few seconds to find three chairs steady enough to hold them.

“I am going to hire a housekeeper,” he said without preamble. He raised his hand as Rusak growled. “I am going to need you to help me with other matters, so you cannot look after the apartment and Michelle.”

She flinched. His words contradicted his assertion that she was in no danger. She had not believed him then, for anyone associated with Alexei Vatutin could be the focus of his enemies.

“Nothing important was taken,” Alexei went on. He looked at her. “Of course, no one must know about our uninvited callers.”

“Really, Alexei,” she replied. How could he mistrust her now when she had trusted him to touch her with such yearning? If he had been searching for a way to hurt her, he could not have found a better way. “I think I know better than to babble about this with anyone.”

“Even with Prince Charming?”

“You think Bartholomew ordered this?”

With a grin, he put his foot on a wobbly table. “No, I don't think this was Prince Charming's work.”

“Then why are you so nasty about him? Just because he is a nice man—”

“Very nice.”

Her brow rutted with bafflement. “You make being nice sound like a crime.”

“It is when he is being nice to you for only one reason.” He winked bawdily at Rusak and frowned when Rusak did not smile. Dropping his foot back on the floor, he crossed his arms on his knees as he leaned forward to rivet her with his gaze. “Michelle, I don't wish to belittle your obvious charms, but I do not trust your Prince Charming. He wants something, and I suspect it is not as simple as having you as his mistress.”

“Thank you for the compliment.”

“Don't be petulant. Has he said anything to you about me?”

“I thought you don't suspect him of this.”

“I don't, but has he asked you anything about what we are doing here?”

She laughed. “Mayhap you think you should be the topic of every conversation, Alexei, but you are not. Quite to the contrary, he avoids speaking of you. Once someone at a gathering mentioned that I was your mistress, and Bartholomew insisted that we leave.”

Startled, he rested back in his chair. He glanced at Rusak, but Rusak grabbed Michelle's arm. He wiggled his fingers rapidly.

“Slow down,” Michelle said, “I cannot understand what you are saying.”

Alexei mad
, he signed.
Alexei jealous
.

“No,” she retorted, “you are wrong.” She wished she had the signs to tell Rusak how Alexei had kissed her and then pushed her away. She closed her eyes. She could not tell that to anyone.

Rusak patted her arm, and she opened her eyes to see him signing,
Happy Alexei. You happy Alexei
.

Before she could try to figure out a way to ask if he meant he wanted her to try to make Alexei happy or that she did make Alexei happy, Alexei asked, “Will you translate, Michelle? Or do you prefer to leave me out of this conversation?”

Although, as Rusak smiled, she was tempted to say yes, she replied, “Rusak was saying you are very angry and should calm down.” She refused to add that Rusak believed Alexei was jealous of Bartholomew. “You would understand if you would attend some of the lessons with us.”

“Am I going to have both of you nagging me?” He set himself on his feet. “No matter. Tomorrow I shall hire a housekeeper.”

“I can do that, Alexei.”

“Nonsense. I would not want to interfere with the time you spend with everyone except the man who pays your wages, Michelle. Rusak, let's clean up the mess in my bedchamber while Michelle gets herself all pretty for Prince Charming. She does not want to be late when he calls.”

Sorrow ached through her as she watched the two men go toward the arch. No matter what she did, it was wrong in Alexei's opinion. Even when she did nothing, he found fault with her.

She sighed. Only a few days ago she had fretted about having to decide whether she wanted to spend her evenings with Alexei or with Bartholomew. It appeared that Alexei had made that decision for her.

Whether she liked it or not.

Chapter Eleven

The next day, when Michelle and Rusak returned from Herr Professor Waldstein's class, they were met at the apartment door by a slender woman whose age was wrinkled into her face beneath her white hair. Dressed in a loden green dirndl skirt of the style favored by Austrians, she smiled broadly. “
Grüss Gott
. You must be Fraulein D'Orage and Herr Rusak.”

Taken aback to find a stranger in the apartment, Michelle asked, “And you are …?”

“Frau Schlissel. Count Vatutin hired me to take care of your household. I trust I can work to your standards.”

“I trust you can,” she answered with a soft smile. She wondered what Frau Schlissel thought of the apartment, which still bore scars from the raid by Alexei's enemies. Although some of the furniture had been replaced, several chairs rocked whenever anyone sat on them. She took off her bonnet and hung it next to the door. “Welcome, Frau Schlissel.”

“Herr Rusak—”

When he signed,
Just Rusak
, Michelle conveyed the message to the housekeeper, then added, “Rusak can hear you, but he uses these signs to speak.”

“I understand, Fraulein. The count explained,” Frau Schlissel replied. She looked away as color slapped her cheeks, and Michelle knew Alexei had told the new housekeeper as well that he and Michelle were lovers.

“Shall we go over the household tomorrow, Frau Schlissel? I shall answer any questions you have then. I must hurry if I am to be ready when Prince Bartholomew arrives.”

“Prince?” The housekeeper gasped.

“He is a friend and has asked me to attend the theater with him tonight.”

“Does Count Vatutin know of this?” the housekeeper blurted.

Michelle's face now was hot. How could she explain without revealing the truth? “Alexei knows of my friendship with Prince Bartholomew. If you will excuse me …”

As she hurried from the room, Michelle wondered how she had let herself get caught up in this madness. No wonder Frau Schlissel was baffled that a Russian count's mistress was spending the evening with a German prince. What bothered Michelle most was that she was no longer amazed by it. When had the bizarre become normal?

“Prince Charming is here, Cinderella,” drawled Alexei as he pushed aside Michelle's door.

She glanced at his reflection in the glass. “Do you have to be so hateful all the time?”

“I am not hateful
all
the time.”

She readjusted her feathered turban. Its pale lavender silk matched the trim on her white gown.

Leaning his shoulder against the door, he laughed. He folded his arms over his chest, but when she rose and tried to walk past him, he caught her hand. He pulled her closer. His fingers touched her cheek before brushing her lips. They parted with a soft breath as his fingertip eased past her chin to the slim column of her throat. Within her rippled a sweet, voracious longing.

“Is this hateful,
Liebchen
?”

“No, but certainly hypocritical.” She draped her shawl with its long silk fringe over her shoulders to keep herself from softening against him. He was the most outrageous man she had ever met, taunting her and expecting her to delight at being in his arms at the same time.

“Hypocritical?” he murmured. “Do you think I truly dislike touching you?”

“Mayhap you do, mayhap you don't, but that was not what I meant. 'Tis not your caresses but your sincerity that I question. You ignore me until Bartholomew arrives; then you are eager to pay court on me.” She pulled on her gloves. “Alexei, I wish you would halt these childish games. I have not done anything to suggest to Bartholomew that our presumed situation has changed.”

“And he has done nothing to convince you to change it?”

“He has been a gentleman.” Her smile grew stiff. “Does it bother you that there are some true gentlemen left in this world? Simply because you—”

“Michelle, you are making a prince wait.” Again as she stepped past him, he put his fingers on her arm. Drawing her so tightly to him that she was aware of his strength through the thin material of her gown, he whispered, “Don't judge what you do not understand,
Liebchen
. Simply because I have not made love to you does not mean I have not thought of it.” His fingers trailed up her arm. “Often.”

“But that would interfere with your work, wouldn't it? Let me go, Alexei.”

He started to speak, but clamped his lips shut as he slowly released her. The pain in his eyes unsettled her. If her friendship with Bartholomew bothered him, why didn't he say so?

Mayhap for the same reason you do not tell him how much you wish he were your lover
.

Michelle flinched at that thought and pushed past Alexei. If he saw that thought on her face …
Du lieber Gott!
She was torn between eager anticipation and terror at the very idea.

She wished Alexei would not watch as she went to where an awestruck Frau Schlissel was basking under Bartholomew's charm.

Bartholomew smiled. “Ah, Michelle! How lovely you look tonight.” He bowed over her fingers, and his furlined evening cape brushed her arm. She waited, but there was no sensation like the explosion when Alexei touched her. Pressing her hand fervently to his lips, he raised his head and looked past her. “Good evening, Vatutin.”

“Your Highness.”

Bartholomew held out his arm to Michelle, ignoring Alexei's terse answer. “Shall we go, my dear? We want to be there before the curtain rises.”

Alexei went to the fireplace. Drawing out a blazing piece of kindling, he lit his pipe. He puffed several times before smiling. “What are you going to see?”

“An intellectual comedy,” Bartholomew replied. “Nothing that you would be interested in, Vatutin.”

“You might be surprised what interests me.” He chuckled and winked at Michelle.

Bartholomew brisded. “I try not to concern myself with such low pursuits.”

“Low? Is that your opinion of Michelle?”

Bartholomew's smile dimmed. “Forgive me, Michelle, if you thought I spoke of you.”

“I know
you
did not.” She gritted her teeth as Alexei's grin broadened. He was utterly impossible!

“Shall we go?” Bartholomew asked.

“Yes.” Only by leaving could she put an end to this verbal jousting between the men.

In the carriage, Bartholomew's lighthearted voice suggested that no angry words had been spoken. She did not listen as she sat on the carriage seat and stared at nothing.

Throughout the evening, Michelle said little. There was no need, because Bartholomew seemed determined to fill every moment with bright conversation. It should have been a perfect evening, one filled with wonder at her first visit to the theater. She had not guessed how splendid the actors and the music would be. Even the audience glittered beneath the chandeliers hanging from the theater's painted ceiling. The theater had been followed by a soiree with many delegates from the German states. The chocolate cake that had been served had been delicious, but she had taken no more than a few bites.

Why are you allowing Alexei to ruin everything for you
? She knew why, but she did not want to admit even to herself that she preferred his barbed jests to Bartholomew's cloying kindness.

The carriage, as it drove back to her street, was silent. Mayhap Bartholomew had run out of things to say. She knew anything she said would infuriate him, because Alexei's name would be part of it. She wished she could decipher why Alexei was as he was. One moment he was taunting her. The next he was tantalizing her in a totally different way. And then he ended the beguiling moment with an outrageous statement guaranteed to irritate her. None of this made sense. Yet it must. She was not seeing the one clue that tied all of this together.

Some spy you would be! You cannot even see what is right in front of you
. Michelle flinched when a hand on her arm ripped her away from her thoughts.

Bartholomew's voice was apologetic. “Excuse me. I did not mean to startle you.”

“I was lost in my thoughts.”

“You looked so far away. Are you nostalgic for home?”