A Sister's Quest (23 page)

He gripped her hands, but did not draw her closer when Alexei shifted from one foot to the other and closed his hands into fists. “My love, if my father will not accept you at first, he shall learn when you are the mother of his grandson.”

“No.” She tried to tug her hands out of his, but he tightened his grip. When she saw the challenge in his eyes, she realized he wanted her to protest. Why did Bartholomew want to incite Alexei into protecting her? When she saw shadows move beyond him, she understood. He had brought his personal guards.

“Yes, Michelle,” he said, his eyes twinkling maliciously, “I have asked you too many times. This time you will say yes.”

When he dragged her closer, she wanted to call for Alexei to halt him. She did not, for the sparks in Bartholomew's eyes warned of danger.

Alexei's hand on her arm gently but firmly drew her away from Bartholomew. “Your Highness, will you ask her to consider your suit each time you meet?”

“She shall be mine.”

“No!” she cried. “I don't wish to marry you, Bartholomew.”

He said in a sneer, “You wish to stay with Vatutin? Where will you go when he tires of you?”

“St. Bernard's School for Girls.”

Bartholomew's eyes widened at her quick answer. On her arm, Alexei's fingers tightened. Had she said the wrong thing when she spoke of where she had been living? Too late now to take back the words as Bartholomew's lips tightened with rage. He raised his hand, but his motion was blocked by Alexei.

“I suggest you retire, Your Highness,” Alexei said, “before you do something a gentleman would regret Michelle has given you her answer.”

“Vatutin, stay out of this!” At his low growl, his guards burst out of the green dusk. The silent quartet formed an arc behind him, their expressions warning that they awaited his order to attack.

Michelle shuddered, but whispered, “If you cared for me at all, Bartholomew, you would know that I hate this abhorrent behavior.”

“Then come with me.”

“Is that what you truly want, Bartholomew? Do you want to coerce me into coming with you because I wish to protect Alexei from your men?” When he opened his mouth to answer, she asked more intensely, “Is that what you really want?”

His blue eyes hardened. Whirling on his heel, he snapped an order to his men. They followed him back along the twisting path among the conservatory's flowers. The sound of their angry footsteps echoed eerily.

When she heard a chuckle behind her, Michelle turned to see Alexei sitting on a bench. He held out his arms. Without hesitation, she slid into his embrace.

He brushed her loosened curls back from her forehead and kissed her lightly. “Do you wish to go back to the ballroom,
Liebchen
, or go home?”

“Home.”

“Where we may resume this.”

“Resume?” She laughed. “How romantic you are, Alexei! Is this how you Russians woo your women?”

“I don't know about anyone else,” he murmured, “but this is how I wish to woo you.” He branded his answer into her lips.

She softened against him like heated honey, wanting this night to last forever.

Michelle yawned as Alexei walked her toward the carriage. Behind them, the sounds of the orchestra continued over the clatter of sleet on the bricks. She leaned on him, glad to be beneath his cloak.

“Too late for you, Cinderella?” he teased.

“She was home before midnight. It must be past that”

“Far past. Time passes quickly when we are enjoying ourselves,
Liebchen
.”

“I am exhausted. All I want is to go home and go to bed.”

“Is that an invitation?”

She smiled. “I hope you think so.”

In the distance, through the clatter of sleet, church bells rang. The sound surprised her until she realized it was almost time for matins on the first morning of Advent. The year was nearly over, but she was sure her life was just beginning.

“Be careful,” Alexei whispered, steering her cautiously over the icy ground.

“There are advantages to flat slippers that boots do not have.” Her feet slipped. “However, even low heels are treacherous tonight.”

“This morning. When was the last time you were up all night?”

She pondered the question as Rusak opened the carriage door. Smiling she signed,
Long night
.

Night good
?

Best night
.

Alexei chuckled as he handed Michelle into the carriage. “Your fingers make magic in so many ways,
Liebchen
.”

When he sat beside her, she gave him that smile that rippled to the center of his gut and exploded along him. He was sure his heart would thud no harder if he had run from Paris to Vienna.

“I believe,” she said, “I stayed up all night once when I was about twelve.
Maman
had come to St. Bernard's to pick me up. I had not seen her in almost a year, and we had so much to talk about. We talked all night.”

“Knowing Sophie and knowing you, I can believe that.”

“Alexei, don't act as if you never get a chance to speak. Whenever you—”

His lips over hers silenced her. Her sweet gasp of astonishment cascaded down his throat, fanning his longing for her. As he wrapped his arms around her slender form, he thought of holding her more intimately in his bed. Her pliant curves re-formed along him, and he knew no woman had ever driven him so mad with fury and yearning.

When she pushed against his arms gently, he released her, but kept her within the curve of his embrace. “Tired of my kisses already,
Liebchen
?”

“It is sleeting hard out there. Rusak should not have to stay out in it any longer than he must while we …”

He chuckled. Even in the dim light, he could see the blush tinting her cheeks. She was a paradox, an enchantress in his arms, but still an innocent. He wanted to savor that innocence and her sweet magic again. Leaning forward, he called, “Rusak, let's get home, man!”

Rusak grinned and closed the door. The carriage swayed as he nimbly climbed up to the box.

At a shout from outside the carriage, Alexei peered out the window. “Damrosch! What are you doing out in the storm?”

With a voice slurred by alcohol and a drunken smile on his face, a man rested his arm heavily on the door and lamented, “They asked me to leave, Vatutin. Can you believe that? They think I cannot drink their champagne without getting foxed. Will you go in and—”

“Whoa there, friend.” Alexei pushed the door open and managed to keep the rotund man from falling with the same motion. “If our hosts think that it is time for you to go home, allow us to give you a ride.”

“Don't want to ride.” Damrosch flung out his arms and bowed, nearly knocking himself off his feet again. “Want to dance. Will you dance with me, Fraulein?”

Michelle put her fingers over her lips to silence her laughter. “Mayhap some other time. Why don't you let us take you home, Herr Damrosch?”

“Dance with me some other time, Fraulein?”

“The very next ball we attend, Herr Damrosch, I will save you the second dance.”

He heaved himself into the carriage with Alexei's help. Somehow he bowed toward her, a nearly impossible feat in the cramped space. “The second one it shall be, Fraulein. I assume you are saving the first for my dear friend Alexei.”

Behind him, Alexei made a motion. She understood immediately and rose to sit on the opposite seat. “Please sit down, Herr Damrosch,” she said.

“Always should let a lady ride facing forward,” he grumbled.

“Except when you might get sick riding that way, Claus, my friend.” Alexei shoved Herr Damrosch's shoulders. The carriage springs creaked as he dropped onto the seat.

“I am not drunk,” he retorted in a fuzzy voice.

“Please ride like this,” Michelle said before Alexei could speak. She did not want to be further delayed. She wanted to return home and to Alexei's arms. “Herr Damrosch, I do not mind riding backward.”

“You don't?”

“Of course not,” she lied.

“In that case,” he mumbled as he closed his eyes and sagged against the cushions.

Alexei climbed into the carriage and slapped the side to tell Rusak to start. With a grin, he put his arm around her shoulders and whispered in her ear, “Why are you always so considerate of everyone's feelings but mine?”

“You don't like how I treat you?”

“I like the way you are treating me tonight. Before tonight, you never missed any opportunity to smite me with harsh words.”

“And do you think that is going to change?”

He chuckled. “Hardly.”

Herr Damrosch roused enough to begin singing a bawdy drinking song. Michelle thought that Alexei would halt him, but, when he rumbled with laughter, she knew the song would drag to its ribald conclusion.

Alexei joined in for the lusty third verse, and she giggled. This was a facet of him that she had never seen. As she clapped her hands in tempo with the jumbled words, she watched his face. He was enjoying himself as he seldom did.

“Such a bright smile,
Liebchen
,” he murmured beneath Herr Damrosch's enthusiastic repetition of the final verse.

Kissing him, she delighted in the soft brush of his mustache against her lips. Her hands slipped beneath his damp coat to stroke his silk waistcoat and the strong muscles beneath it. His mouth teased hers with sparks that lilted across her lips.

He nestled her between him and the side of the carriage. With the shadow of his cloak drifting toward her, she was nearly hidden from Herr Damrosch, who was still singing boisterously. Alexei's fingertip brought her lips to his as his other hand loosened the ties holding her cape closed. She could not restrain her soft cry when his mouth sought a luscious path along her throat. His tongue stroked her as eagerly as did his fingers along her back. Unable to control her craving, she pressed to him.

He murmured against her ear, “You taste as perfect as you look,
Liebchen
. Tonight we shall—”

The carriage rocked to a sudden halt. It bounced as Rusak jumped to the ground.

He signed,
Road something
.

“What?” Alexei asked, looking at Michelle.

“There is something in the road.”

“What is wrong?” mumbled Herr Damrosch from his wine haze.

“Just a delay,” Alexei replied.

Michelle glanced at him uneasily. Although his words were soothing, she sensed his disquiet. He started to add more, then looked out the opposite side of the carriage. He cursed.

“Alexei, what—”

A sharp detonation sliced the night. Michelle froze. What was that? It sounded like guns firing. What was happening? Something whizzed past her, striking the door. More explosions.

Alexei shouted, “Rusak, get us out of here!” He reached past her for the door latch.

“Alexei, what is wrong?” Something struck her left arm just above her gloves. She screamed as pain scalded her, unlike any agony she had ever known.

“Down!” shouted Alexei. More explosions devoured his words.

He shoved her against the wall, and she shrieked as she struck her left arm. That pain was forgotten when another hot needle struck her left leg. Alexei's arms around her held her to the wall of the carriage.

When he groaned with anguish, she cried, “Help us!”

No one answered. All she could hear were the continuing explosions from beyond the carriage.

A screech came from the opposite side of the carriage. Herr Damrosch's coat was riddled with dark, glistening holes. He moaned once and toppled to the floor.

“Alexei! Alexei!” she shouted. His weight on her arm was excruciating, but she could not move him.

Wetness along her left hand drew her strangely unfocused gaze. Darkness etched a path along her gloves. Numbly she realized it was blood.
Her
blood. The same sensation inched along her leg, and she slowly realized she had been shot. The carriage was careening through the narrow streets. Rusak must be fleeing from whoever was shooting at them.

Shooting!
It could not be happening. Her brain was deadened with pain and horror. She wanted to hear Alexei's voice as he told her that this was simply another jest.

If only she did not hurt so badly …

Michelle moaned as her wounded arm was pressed into the wall when they swerved around a corner. Herr Damrosch rolled over her slipper, leaving it awash with blood. Pain swelled along her leg, but she could not shift it. Freeing her right hand, she touched Alexei's face.

“No!” She moaned.

Blood covered him. Was he still alive? He could not be dead. Not just when they had discovered the beginnings of love.

Her voice scraped her throat as she cried, “Help me! I think he is dying. Help us! Someone, help us!”

Tears burned her face, but she ignored them. The anguish in her leg was increasing as Herr Damrosch's weight bent her foot to a strange angle. She feared her ankle would snap.

The carriage rolled to a stop. Light flashed by the window seconds after someone leapt from the driver's seat. Wanting to call to Rusak, she discovered her voice had disappeared in the void of agony. Herr Damrosch must be dead. He had not moved, not even to breathe.

Just like Alexei. As tightly as he pressed her to the wall, she could not tell if he was alive or not.

“No,” she whispered, “do not be dead.”

If only she did not hurt so badly …

The light vanished. Wondering why they were being abandoned in their greatest need, she struggled to remain conscious. If she surrendered to the tentacles of pain, she might never reopen her eyes. She had to survive. She must survive because … No answer entered her head.

The door opened. When she saw several lanterns, she realized that Rusak had gone for assistance.

In a whisper, she begged, “Rusak, help Alexei. Please.”

Hearing shouts, Michelle fought unconsciousness as something heavy slid past her feet. A scream echoed in her ears, but she could not tell if it came from her or someone else.