Spring Fires (11 page)

Dessert was being served and there were exclamations of delight from the children when they saw that Mrs. Reeves had made ice cream. The cook smiled broadly at Nicholai as she placed the largest portion in front of him.

"I remembered 'twas always your favorite, Master Nicky," she said. "'Tis my welcome-home gift to you."

He stood partway, leaning over the high chair, and gave Mrs. Reeves a hug. Just as he sat down, Kristin put five plump fingers into his ice cream, gave a gurgling laugh, and patted her uncle's sleeve. Ignoring the sticky mess on his expensive coat, he took her little hand and kissed it.

"Kristin, my sweet, I am truly glad to be here tonight with you—and all my family." The grin that flashed in contrast to Nicholai's tanned face held no trace of mockery.

* * *

Alec poured brandy into two snifters and joined his brother in chairs facing the library fireplace. For a slow minute, they relaxed and regarded the leaping yellow flames.

"I know Father is anxious to join us," Nicholai said at last, "so I had better tell you what has happened. Lion feels that you should be kept abreast of this situation with Marcus Reems."

"Nicky, don't say that you already have news! You just saw the man for the first time a few hours ago!"

He loosened his cravat with two dark fingers and sighed dramatically. "It
has been a very full day...."

"Do you think you can manage to tell me about it before you expire?"

Laughing, Nicholai took a sip of brandy. "You recall my early departure from the CoffeeHouse—and your gluttonous dispatch of my gingerbread? Well, I waited outside until I saw Reems exit—from the back door—then I had a little chat with Lisette Hahn."

"Really? Did she remember you this time?"

"As a matter of fact, she did. I have a theory that she is pretending indifference in an effort to conceal a shameless passion for me."

Alec's only response was a doubtful snort.

Nicholai went on to repeat his conversation with Lisette about Marcus, her father's debt, and Reems's offer to buy the CoffeeHouse. "Of course," he finished, "she adamantly refused!"

"Amazing!" Alec shook his head in disbelief. "Did you discuss Marcus's scheme with Lion?"

"Yes—that's why I was late tonight. He came over to my house and we talked at length. I like him immensely, Sacha, and admire his honesty and insight. He seems to know exactly what Reems is up to."

"I would trust his instincts."

"I do. Lion thinks that Reems feels he lost the prestige of his wife's fine old family when she died—which he, in his warped view, would need to overtake Lion now that he is a senator. Don't ask me how he plans to surpass senator
;
perhaps he intends to become president! At any rate, since the CoffeeHouse is the gathering place for political discussions, local negotiations, and gossip, Lion is certain that Reems wants to own it so that he can orchestrate all these power conversations."

"It sounds as if Marcus wants to trade family prestige for local power. Friendships with the men who count, hmm?"

"Exactly. And Lion is convinced he has a darker goal in mind... ownership of the forum where he could subtly spread rumors about Senator Hampshire."

"With an eye toward taking that Senate seat himself, I'll wager—after he's created a cloud of scandal over Lion's name."

"It would seem so."

The door opened then and Jean-Philippe appeared. "Am I still banished?" Antonia's petite form crowded in beside her husband. "I won't be left out either, you scoundrels. I want to hear everything!"

Their sons laughed, bade them enter, and the quartet gathered around the fire, discussing the progress of the Beauvisage ships, especially since the China trade had opened. Nicholai was telling his parents about France, beginning with the family chateau and vineyards, when Caro suddenly appeared.

"I'm sorry—I didn't mean to interrupt—it's just that Etienne and Talya will not go to sleep without a kiss from their uncle."

Alec began to rise automatically, then Caro's words sank in. Dropping back into his chair while Nicholai crossed the room, he experienced the same unsettling twinge that he had felt earlier. He had stood in the parlor for minutes before Caro and Nicholai had been able to stop talking and gazing at each other long enough to acknowledge his presence. Now Alec's children wanted their
uncle.
His mind trusted Caro implicitly... but there was a nagging ache in his chest

* * *

Little Natalya and Etienne were exhausted, and after a last hug from their uncle, they snuggled together in the canopy bed and closed their eyes. Kristin swayed in a nearby cradle, rosy cheeked and dreaming.

Nicholai whispered to Caro in the hallway. "Where is Katya?"

"She and Randolph went out to the theater a half-hour ago."

"Damn! I wanted to talk to her."

"Can I help?"

He shrugged with studied nonchalance. "Well, it's not a matter of any real importance. I merely wanted to ask about Lisette Hahn, since I understand they are good friends."

"Perhaps I can substitute. I'm quite well acquainted with Lisette myself, and Katya and I had a good long talk about her just last night."

When Nicholai felt Caro's watchful brown eyes on him, he wished he'd never mentioned Lisette Hahn. His sister-in-law had the instincts of a bloodhound.

"Oh, there's no need," he murmured. "I just felt a momentary twinge of curiosity."

"Come on, Nicky." She took his arm. "Let's go into Antonia's sitting room and have a nice chat. In truth, I find Lisette Hahn an intriguing enigma and shall be interested to hear
your
opinions."

Inside the cozy room, Caro sat down on the green-striped settee and pulled Nicholai down beside her.

"Do you find it odd," she began, as though the subject were her own idea, "that Lisette is so aloof with men? She is beautiful and intelligent enough to attract any bachelor in Philadelphia, yet she is twenty-one years old and rebuffs every male who approaches her."

"Yes. I
do
find it odd," he echoed sardonically.

"Alec said that you took her home last night after word reached Belle Maison that Ernst Hahn had been stricken. I suppose you got to know her quite well."

"As you have said, she is an enigma. A raving contradiction, to be exact."

"Your sister maintains that Lisette wants to be self-reliant... and I gather that her opinion of men in general is not terribly good."

"I know all that!" Hearing his own voice rise, Nicholai paused to take a breath and continued evenly,
"What I want to know is
why
!"

She couldn't guess what had transpired between him and Lisette Hahn, but whatever it was, it had left him anything but indifferent.

"I shouldn't tell you, but I know Katya will if I don't. She said that the reason Lisette is unreceptive to romance is because she was
badly hurt two years ago. Whoever it was must have destroyed her trust in men."

His mouth drew up in a suggestion of a smile. "So, Caro, it would seem that Lisette Hahn is of a breed I should understand. Another survivor!"

"Oh, Nicky." Stung by his tone, she put out a hand and touched one dark tense cheek. "Please, you must—"

"I do hope I'm not intruding—again," Alec interrupted from the doorway.

Caro groaned inwardly at the look in his eyes.

"Sacha," Nicholai was saying, "I've appropriated your wife far too often this evening, and do you know, I've suddenly realized how exhausted I am. Before I fall unconscious on the rug, I think it would be wise to bid you all good night and be off to my own home and bed." He was careful to give his sister-in-law a chaste kiss on the cheek, then patted Alec's shoulder and disappeared into the hallway.

Warm caramel eyes locked with splintered turquoise.

"You are being very foolish," Caro told her husband in a soft, even voice.

"I hope so." Each word was weighted with meaning. Then he pulled her roughly into his arms and kissed her with all the angry heat his love could generate. Feeling her response, the way she molded her body to his, tightened her arms around his neck to keep their lips joined, and moaned almost inaudibly, Alec shed his doubts.

"Madame," he murmured at length, "I think we should repair to Belle Maison and our bedchamber with all possible speed. In addition, I am convinced that our children are will enjoy a short visit with their grandparents."

Caro stood on tiptoe, nuzzling the line of his brown jaw. "I concur wholeheartedly, sir, on both counts."

Part II

Oh, how hard it is to find

The one just suited to our mind;

And if that one should be

False, unkind, or found too late,

What can we do but sigh at fate,

And sing 'Woe's me—Woe's me?'

Love's a boundless burning waste,

Where bliss's stream we seldom taste,

And still more seldom flee

Suspense's thorns, suspicion's stings;

Yet somehow love a something brings

That's sweet—ev'n when we sigh '

Woe's me!'

THOMAS CAMPBELL

(1777-1844)

Chapter 11

April 9, 1793

Nicholai was naked beneath the covers, his lean
-
muscled torso exposed as he reclined against three plush pillows. The current
National Gazette
was spread open over his lap, and sweet early sunlight splashed across the empty teacup on the lowboy.

He could smell the boxwood and strawberry bushes that scented the morning breeze. Sighing, he folded the
Gazette,
set it aside, and closed his eyes.

The days since his return had slipped away in a blur of gradual routine. There were servants now, hired by his mother, who greatly simplified Nicholai's life in the house on Spruce Street. There was Oliver, the butler-valet, a tall, dignified Negro, and the easygoing, rotund cook, Welcome, whose daughter, Felicity, did the housecleaning. Antonia trained her son's new staff herself.

Leisurely, Nicholai grew accustomed to life in Philadelphia. He talked to shopkeepers, old friends, and the men at the CoffeeHouse, learning the changes in America's texture. Amelia Purdy, the restless wife of a wealthy merchant, provided uncomplicated sexual diversion, and he also spent frequent evenings with family members. Last week, Katya and Randolph had been his first dinner guests. Old relationships were restored and new acquaintances made, including those of President Washington, Secretary of State Thomas Jefferson, and the secretary of the treasury, Alexander Hamilton.

Nicholai was intrigued by the conflict between Hamilton and Jefferson, each of whom wielded power exceeded only by the president's. Jefferson detested Hamilton, believing him to be corrupt and a monarchist at heart, and he further opposed the genteel, class-oriented Federalists. It seemed that Hamilton's influence pulled Washington in one direction, while Jefferson, whose Republican party stood for unqualified democracy, pulled him the opposite way.

Perhaps, thought Nicholai wryly, they cancel each other out. There were constant rumors that either Jefferson or Hamilton would resign, but it was doubtful that one could countenance leaving the other with the president's undivided attention.

The Congress had adjourned in March for the summer and, just a few days ago, Washington had traveled south to Mount Vernon. Nicholai had met the careworn president the night before his departure and felt that his cheerful mood had been born of his eagerness to be home again. He carried the unsought burden of the presidency with stoic dignity; Nicholai hoped that he would find peace during his respite at Mount Vernon.

With this generous thought, he stretched and threw off the quilts. The new staff was well trained. Each morning at eight o'clock, Oliver woke Nicholai and prepared a hot bath. Welcome bustled in next, delivering a cup of tea with lemon and the day's newspaper. If he had not stirred yet, she would cheerfully make a great show of rolling up the paper to apply to his "backside," but he always managed to moan and growl his way to daylight.