Spring Fires (7 page)

"What girl in her right mind would give her virginity to a virtual stranger?" he muttered aloud, continuing to puzzle over the matter until a distant knocking sound distracted him. Hastily, as the noise intensified, Nicholai pulled on breeches and hurried down the elliptical staircase. The black and white marble floor of the vestibule was cold beneath his bare feet, but he paid no mind to the discomfort, intent on ending the insistent knocking. Perhaps it was Lisette Hahn, back to explain herself....

Nicholai threw open the door and found his brother standing on the stoop, his black hair damp with mist.

"I am so flattered to find that you have been anxiously awaiting my arrival!" barked Alec, yanking off his wet cape as he stepped inside.

"Now, dear brother, do strive to be more understanding... one would think you were not overjoyed to have me back in the bosom of my family!" Nicholai smothered a grin and recognized his own impulse to retreat into his onetime role of the cheerfully mischievous little brother.

"It would appear that someone from our parents' house tried to rouse you earlier," Alec went on sarcastically, gesturing back to the trunk that rested on the stoop. "I gather you left that thing there when you came on to Belle Maison in search of your key last night."

Nicholai smiled. "Well, I couldn't very well take it along on the horse!"

"And you were obviously far too occupied with Lisette Hahn to stop for it on the way back!"

"Now, Sacha—" He pulled the wet trunk inside and closed the door. "You've heard about her father, haven't you? I was only trying to help in Lisette's hour of need."

"Help her into bed, I'll wager... though I'm also certain you learned the unpleasant truth about the beautiful but cold Mistress Hahn. That is one female who even you cannot charm." Taking hold of one end of the trunk, Alec helped Nicholai carry it up the curving stairway. "What about her father?"

"He died! Quite suddenly, I gathered... poor man. I never saw him, but my heart went out to Lisette; she was devastated."

Alec was stunned, but kept silent until they reached the bedchamber, whereupon he settled into a tan-and-green-striped wing chair while Nicholai selected clean clothes from his trunk.

"Nicky, am I wrong, or did you just meet Lisette Hahn last night?"

"That's right." He peered in the mirror above his wash-stand. "I had a bath and shave last night at Belle Maison... do you think I can pass for now?"

"God, yes—no one will know who you are, anyway. Will you tell me how you two came to be so well acquainted?"

"Lisette and I?" Nicholai flashed a decidedly adult grin while buttoning a fine linen shirt. "She was building those tortes in the kitchen, which is where I went first last night so that I might get a bath and some decent clothing before presenting myself to that ball you were giving. We talked; the chit intrigued me. Later, when all those eager unmarried females began trying to pull me apart, I returned to the kitchen to catch my breath. Lisette had just gotten word that her father was on his deathbed, so I took her home. I've been wondering how she is... and what she'll do now about that CoffeeHouse."

"Mistress Hahn is very independent. The last few years, as her father's health has deteriorated, she's practically run the place herself."

Dressed, Nicholai brushed his dark hair back in disarray. "By the way, Alec, what did you mean by the 'unpleasant truth' about Lisette?"

"I mean that it is common knowledge that, for all her succulent and tempting beauty, the lady has passed twenty-one summers without consenting to share any man's bed. And, believe me, nearly the entire male population of Philadelphia has tried to thaw the maiden's shield of ice."

"Really?" Nicholai's eyes gleamed attentively. "Why, do you suppose? Doesn't she like men?"

"Not particularly, at least not on intimate terms. She's unfailingly friendly to her CoffeeHouse patrons, but it never goes beyond that. The challenge of Lisette is an important factor in the growing success of that CoffeeHouse!" Alec stood up. "Are you ready? I hope you won't mind the fact that I told Lion Hampshire he could join us for luncheon. It seems that he has something he's anxious to discuss with you."

"Ah, yes—the senator! Where are we bound for this mysterious meal?"

Alec grinned a trifle wickedly, watching for Nicholai's reaction. "Coincidentally, Lion asked us to meet him at noon... at Hahn's CoffeeHouse."

Nicholai's only response was an enigmatic smile and a fleeting sparkle of his emerald eyes.

Chapter 7

March 26, 1793

The two brothers, each uniquely and magnetically handsome, walked side by side down the elegant stairway.

"The house looks splendid," Nicholai murmured. "I mustn't forget to give Maman a kiss for taking such good care of the place. Now I suppose I must hunt for a few servants."

"Let Maman do that when she offers. She'll be delighted to help. As you might guess, she and Father are anxious for you to come to supper tonight and fill them in on your life this past decade."

"And Caro?"

Alec glanced sharply at his brother. "She's as anxious to hear all as the rest of us and insisted that we join you all for dinner, ostensibly so that you can meet your nephew and nieces."

"Nieces?"
he echoed in the midst of locking the front door.

"The newest Beauvisage was born October twentieth. We named her Kristin, which you may recall was Caro's real name, and she looks
exactly like me. Now, Talya, on the other hand, has beautiful honey hair like her mother, and I'm certain you'll take to Etienne immediately. He's
eight!
You know, Nicky... I wrote to you the instant Kristin was born, and sent it with a packet I knew was bound for Brest... it's odd that the letter missed you."

They strolled through the mist, east along Spruce Street toward the Delaware River. It was a quiet day, with few people or carriages venturing out into the damp gray cold, and Nicholai looked around at the familiar brick row houses while his brother talked.

"Philadelphia doesn't seem very different," he observed. "Now that it's the capital, I expected a tremendous transformation."

Alec made a derisive sound. "In many ways it
has
been transformed. The population has swelled past fifty thousand and the edge of town creeps nearer the Schuylkill by the day. Water Street is a deafening mess of carts, drays, and six-horse wagons from the country, though I would be a hypocrite to complain about the boom in sea trade, since it has quadrupled the Beauvisage fortune in the last few years...."

"Sacha—" Nicholai interrupted suddenly, stopping on the brick footpath and gazing intently at his brother. "I'd better tell you—the reason why I never received your letter in France is because I left the chateau in August and wasn't able to return before I sailed from Le Havre in January. I couldn't even say with any degree of certainty whether the vineyards still belong to our family or not...."

"What the devil are you talking about?"

"I've been unsure how much to tell Father and Maman... Let me tell you all of it, and perhaps you can advise me whether to bare all tonight or wait out the Revolution and hope for the best."

"For God's sake, man, get on with it!"

"You know, I got the impression last night, listening to everyone rave so cheerily about the situation in France, that you may all think it's like our own fight for independence."

"I suppose that's a fair generalization. There's been a good deal of cockade wearing, singing of French marching songs, and for a period it was in vogue to call one another 'citizen.' The news about the king is causing people to think twice, however."

Nicholai walked slowly, searching for the right words. "I didn't want to write stories home of how horrendous it had actually been, but in truth it is a miracle that I'm alive! Before the Revolution began, nearly every nobleman I ever knew of left his chateau to be part of the court at Versailles, ultimately embittering the people of the provinces. I was disgusted by the Court! The queen saw me as a challenge and invited me frequently, though I only made three short visits... thank God. I managed to elude her for the most part, but I did meet the sister of a prominent marquis during my first stay at Versailles in 1787, and she bewitched me instantly. Gabrielle came to my chateau several times the following year, even after her brother had forced her to marry a pompous, perfumed
comte
."

"What happened to those aristocrats?"

"Bear with me for a moment..."

"Nicky, it's not that I don't want to hear every detail, but you know that Lion is waiting for us –"

"I'll try to be brief!" He took a breath and continued, "As you know, France has always been divided into three classes: the nobility, the clergy, and the third estate—everyone else from bankers to peasants—and it was that last group who paid the taxes to support the other two estates. I never considered myself a nobleman, which everyone in Touraine knew. I paid taxes and worked in the vineyards just as they did. They were aware that I could have easily played the aristocrat, yet I shunned Versailles and the soft life at Court."

"At any rate, there was always unrest and resentment simmering under the surface, but at Court it was bad form to take things too seriously. Though the economy was a shambles, the king was spending madly. It took the hellish winter of 1789 to bring the boil to a head. Louis finally focused his eyes for a moment in May and called an Estates General to solve the problems."

"Didn't you go as a delegate for the third estate?"

He nodded. "Though we all had high hopes, it turned out to be a
farce!
"
Nicholai's entire body clenched at the memory. "With the clergy and nobility to back him up, Louis refused to accept most of our reforms... and it was the last straw. There was a terrible drought that summer, and the revolution began in earnest when the people took matters into their own hands and stormed the Bastille—"

"Nicky, you sound as if you were all for it!"

"At that time, I was—in theory. But it's all gone wrong. The Girondists and the Jacobins are constantly jockeying for power; there is no order—the quest for change and freedom has become a chaotic bloodbath. And it's getting worse. There is no respect for human life. A person can be sent to the guillotine for no reason at all! During the September Massacres, the 'trials' lasted one
minute
at most and the prisoners were hacked down en masse in the prison courtyards... I could tell you grisly stories that would keep you awake at night"

Alec gazed at Nicholai's haunted face. "How can you be so certain that you have not heard exaggerations?"

"Because I was there! Gabrielle came to me in July to tell me that her brother had been imprisoned and to beg me to come to Paris and arrange his escape. The September Massacres were methodically planned for the simple purpose of convincing the troops that they should leave Paris for the front. It was a way to show them that the aristocrats were not relieved from fighting the war by being in prison, and also that they wouldn't break out and overturn the Revolution when the army left town. Over a thousand people were virtually butchered and I was almost one of them. In August, they began rounding up people to fill the prisons, and on my first night in Paris Gabrielle and I became victims of the infamous house-to-house searches that were carried out all month. Supposedly, they were looking for her husband, who was hiding in the provinces, but they settled for
la comtesse
and her lover."

"You," whispered Alec. Time was forgotten as they stopped under a tree.

"Yes. Instead of rescuing Gabrielle's brother, I watched her stuffed into a prison wagon..." His voice was raw. "That was the last time I ever saw her. I've no doubt she and the marquis were both killed in the massacres. I was only saved by a freak encounter with Maximilien Robespierre on September second, the first day of the massacre. He appeared in my prison during the sham trials and recognized me. We had talked at length during the Estates General, to which he was also a delegate. Fortunately for me, he remembered my stand on behalf of the third estate despite my option to be part of the aristocracy... and he had me set free. I pleaded with him to spare Gabrielle as well, though I had no idea to which prison she'd been taken, but Robespierre has no heart."

"What have you been doing since then?"

Nicholai started to walk again. "I lived those five months in Paris, spending as much time as I dared with the fanatics that steer the Revolution's course, hoping to subtly influence them with sanity. Robespierre liked me since I had studied Rousseau, though God knows I didn't absorb it in the warped fashion he did! I hoped to find Gabrielle alive and keep the king from being murdered, but I accomplished neither. I argued recklessly with Robespierre, Marat, and Danton the night before Louis was guillotined; I pushed too hard, they saw through me, and I knew that if I stayed in Paris, I would be disposed of. I was en route to Le Havre less than an hour after Louis the Sixteenth went to the guillotine..."