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Authors: Susan Johnson

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The significance of the
timing of that visit was very clear. He'd not even known she was moving from
her room that morning. The transfer hadn't taken place till late afternoon. She
was evidently only another of his short-lived affairs. Alisa's temper blazed,
the melancholy burned away in a fire of resentment. Her violet eyes under her
heavy lashes turned royal purple to match her royal rage.

"This morning?"
she inquired coldly.

"This morning,"
Sophie cooed.

Had Nikki taken the notion
in his head to court the pink-frosting confection? He'd always declared his
intention to settle on a biddable schoolroom miss, and if he chose to pay
addresses, no young miss could remain entirely indifferent to his practiced
charm and handsome good looks. Someone like young Emilie, who couldn't be over
seventeen, must be in love at first sight. Alisa glanced up to see Nikki across
the room, bending solicitously over a seated Emilie, talking quietly with an
admiring attention upon that sweet, upturned face.

Soothingly patting Alisa on
the knee as she rose to leave, Sophie's malevolent intentions fully realized,
she said with an air of benevolent condescension, "I am sure,
cherie,
that you'll find a very suitable husband from among these young blades panting
after you. Someone eminently more suitable to your station in life. Nikki can,
after all, as a Prince of one of the finest families, look much higher than a
poor, obscure young widow with a child, and young Emilie's antecedents are
impeccable."

"No doubt it will be
refreshing. After Nikki's usual dalliance with, as you say, obscure widows
and"—Alisa pointedly continued—"jaded sluts, a bonbon of such obvious
naivete as Emilie will be a welcome change."

The thrust hit home, for
the Countess turned swiftly on her heel and left in a huff without replying.

Alisa watched Nikki dance
with the dainty young girl, a sugar-plum kind of female, all pink and white and
softly rounded, dressed in multitudinous pink ruffles adorned with creme roses.
Her pale corn-silk hair had been fashionably arranged, pulled up high and
bouffantly in front, while glossy golden curls cascaded down the back of her
neck and onto her smooth white shoulders. Indeed, it would have been hard to
find fault with her appearance. Nikki was carrying on his customary charmingly
insouciant conversation, to which the innocent young girl could only blush or
giggle in reply.

For the twentieth time that
night, Nikki made one of those bland social remarks necessary to occasions such
as this. "You waltz quite enchantingly, my dear." He waited patiently
for the inevitable. It came after half a heartbeat— the trilled little flight
of nervous laughter. Nikki gritted his teeth and glided into a wide turn. He
felt sorry for the nervous, sweet thing. She was out of her league,
unprac-ticed in elegant badinage, but sympathy didn't necessarily behoove
obligation, he abruptly decided. Smothering a yawn, his attention wandering to
contemplate a ripe brunette with shiny ringlets and a practiced eye who was
scrutinizing him. Through force of habit he gave the blooming brunette a wicked
wink over the cornflower-blond head.

Thankfully, the waltz ended
and he returned young Emi-lie to her beaming mama, who was probably already
measuring him for the marriage bed, then sauntered slowly across the floor
toward Alisa. As he approached the swarm of young swains milling around Alisa,
the crowd parted and quickly drifted away under the steely gaze Nikki bestowed
on each of them. After curtly nodding dismissal to one of Alisa's lingering
admirers more foolhardy than the rest, Nikki drawled, "Must you, Madame,
constantly surround yourself with such lovesick pups? I should think you'd find
the conversation tedious."

"You should talk,
Prince Kuzan. Aren't sweet, witless young misses equally tedious? I swear, that
little blonde appeared to do nothing but blush or titter," Alisa answered
him acerbically.

"Alas, Madame, quite
true, and while she's not entirely witless, she's as near to it as makes no
difference"—Nikki sighed and shrugged eloquently—"so I think my duty
dances for the evening will now suffice. I fear my background of vice and
dissipation has little acquainted me with the pleasures of virtuous young women."

The direct cut was blunt
and deliberate.

Alisa's eyes sparked in
anger as she purred spitefully, "Perhaps what you need, Prince Kuzan, is
an introduction to more virtuous pursuits. Who knows, you may not be totally
sunk beyond redemption. A few evenings or afternoons in the company of that
pink and white miss might be rewarding."

"Egad, woman, are you
mad? Two dances was enough to give me a headache. I'm off to take the perfect
remedy now

—a bottle of brandy. Would
you care to join me, my sweet?"

"Thank you no, I shall
continue to converse with these young gallants in hope of raising myself
somewhat from the depths of depravity, as you so frankly put it. These young
blades have a refreshing youthful charm."

Nikki had no idee fixe on
women's morality, but his views on his mistress's morality were decided.

"As you wish, just so
long as you offer no more than conversation. I prefer your charms to remain
exclusively mine," he finished, his eyes amused as he noted Alisa's angry
response.

"We are not all
indiscriminate whores like Countess Amalienborg, Monsieur."

"How very reassuring,
my love." Nikki raised her hand to his lips and brushed Alisa's fingertips
with his warm breath while he gently massaged her palm. "Adieu, my love,
until later," he murmured imperturbably as Alisa flushed pink at his touch
and tried to snatch her hand away. Deliberately holding her hand a few moments
more before relinquishing it, he grinned faintly, gave a swift bow, turned on
his heel, and began strolling toward the card room.

Alisa willed herself to
control the rising pulsations Nikki's touch had evoked. Damn him! His merest
touch set off sensuous ripples through her veins. She shook away the disturbing
tremors with grim determination and looked up, smiling lightly at Lieutenant
Polovtsev who was the first to reappear at her side.

Chapter
Ten
THE ANGRY LOVER

 

For the better part of a
fortnight now, Alisa had been squired around a frantic whirl of parties,
dances, and dinners by Prince Mikhail and Princess Kaisa-leena; the Prince
determined to see that Alisa was enjoying herself regardless of Nikki. Removing
Alisa from Nikki's embrace wasn't without a shrewd intent on the part of his
father, who knew his son's need of women. For Alisa it was pure anger and
revenge; she'd show Nikolai Mikhailovich Kuzan she was quite capable of having
a marvelous time without him. In spite of Alisa's vengeful intent, she woke up one
morning after a particularly grueling evening and decided she could no longer
continue. She must get away. She was exhausted, sick, and nauseated again. The
ball last night had lasted until four. After returning home she'd slept poorly.
All the feverish activity was taking its toll; she found polite enthusiasm more
and more arduous to summon. One must always appear cheerful, vivacious, and
interested, when the only person she was interested in scarce recognized her in
a crowd. This wasn't working; no matter how kind Nikki's parents were, she
resolved to leave, out of a combination of fatigue, despondency, and grief.

Alisa sent a footman with a
message to Aleksei, requesting him to escort her shopping in an hour. Hastily
dressing in a sedate walking costume of brown silk, a coarse straw hat lined
with velvet perched on her curls, she gulped a cup of tea in an attempt to ease
the nausea. Then she went to her jewel box and, with only a moment's
hesitation, plunged the splendid emerald necklace Nikki had given her into her
reticule and rushed downstairs to find Aleksei already in the front hall,
waiting.

"Thank you, Aleksei.
You're always to be depended on."

"You know I'd do
anything for you, Alisa." In his nineteen-year-old puppy infatuation, he
sincerely meant it. She explained in the coach what she intended to do, and
they set off for 28 Morskaija, the street where the finest shops were situated.
Aleksei promised to help; he could find an apartment for her; of course he'd be
delighted to assist her.

The jeweler who'd sold the
necklace to Nikki was more than obliging about buying the emeralds back.

"Certainement,
Madame, we'd be
more than willing."

The price offered astounded
Alisa; she could live three years on the proceeds if she were frugal. Profuse
thanks were exchanged, and the business was concluded.

Alisa returned to the
palace in prodigious fine spirits, sustained by thoughts of thwarting Nikki.
She would leave and fie to him! Aleksei said she had but to ask and his time
was hers.

"In a few days,
Aleksei, we'll go apartment hunting. You can help me find my new home."

The idea of living alone
didn't hold as much pleasure as the day progressed. Alisa lay on her bed that
afternoon, moodily contemplating life without Nikki. Could she do it after all,
now that her pique of anger had passed and she wasn't as irritable and tired as
this morning.

Her musings were
interrupted as a sharp rap sounded on her door, and in his usual way Nikki
walked in without waiting for a reply. Still dressed in buckskins and tweeds from
an afternoon ride, he strode, ill-humoredly glowering, over to the bed and
tossed the emerald necklace at Alisa's feet.

"Mrs. Forseus,"
he said in a glacial murmur, a wintry smile on his face, "I wish you
wouldn't be so ready to dispose of my gifts. It smacks of the mercenary,
designing professional. If your need of pin money has reached these
proportions, I'm sure you could have easily approached my father or
myself."

"How… how did you find
out?" Alisa stammered, since no more than four hours had elapsed since her
visit to the jeweler.

"Mr. Faberge' and I
are acquaintances of long standing, so he informed me immediately when the
necklace I purchased so recently had been resold. With all due sincerity he
felt I should know that my inamorata was quite desperate for funds. Have you
gaming debts, my dear?"

"No!" she
snapped. "I'm leaving and I need money."

"If it's Cernov,
I'll—" His scowl deepened and he glared at her.

"Don't be
ridiculous," Alisa tartly replied, giving him back look for look.
"I'm simply getting my own apartment."

BOOK: Seized by Love
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