The Brigadier's Daughter (11 page)

‘Where will you go?'

‘Home. To England.'

‘But that could take weeks to arrange.'

‘My mother has many cousins, aunts and uncles in St Petersburg. I am sure someone will take me in.'

‘You don't have to do that.'

‘Don't I?'

Reid turned then, his hands lifting and settling on her waist, drawing her closer to him. He had to stoop to see her face, so small was she against his taller frame. Beneath his hands her waist felt so soft and slender, and he murmured, his eyes never leaving hers, ‘Do you know that we have never even kissed?'

‘Yes, we have, on the ship.'

He shrugged. ‘You can hardly call that peck a kiss.'

Sasha held her breath, feeling the warmth and strength of his hands upon her waist, holding her firmly, and her lips parted slightly as he leaned closer. She closed her eyes, her senses delighting in the closeness of him, his warmth, his male scent, the promise of pleasure as his mouth hovered close above her own.

A knock upon the door made them both start, and they broke apart, almost with guilty haste as the door opened and the maid announced that Lady Cronin was waiting for them to join her in the drawing room. They stepped apart, with a fleeting glance, and followed the maid downstairs and there gave themselves up to the curiosity of their hosts, though Reid kept Sasha close to his side and fielded any awkward questions with all the skill of a true diplomat. He noticed that Sasha began to wilt, sometimes almost flinching each time she was addressed by the name of ‘Georgia'. After luncheon, he discreetly mentioned to his hostess that his wife had been very ill on the sea voyage and begged their pardon. Lady Cronin was somewhat reluctant to let them go but, as ‘Georgia' was saying very little, she saw no point in keeping them.

Once he had settled Sasha in their bedchamber, Reid took himself off to meet Sir Stanley to discuss his forthcoming duties.

The afternoon passed all too quickly and Sasha woke as the maid tiptoed in to light the lamps and draw the curtains. She
drew a hot bath for Sasha and started unpacking her cases, taking herself off to the laundry to press an oyster-pink chiffon evening gown while Sasha lay back in the hot and comforting water of the huge bathtub.

Gazing up at the high ceiling, she noticed the mural painted on its surface, her eyes widening at the erotic scene of naked lovers reclining upon a grassy knoll in the woods, surrounded by flowers and sunshine that left little to the imagination. She studied the naked buttocks and muscular legs of the male lover as he leaned over the female, and wondered what Reid would be like naked, leaning over her. She glanced down at her own body, not quite as curvaceous and well endowed as the woman in the painting. What would it be like to make love? She felt a heat rise in her cheeks and her neck, spreading down into her belly and between her legs. In the bedroom she heard the door click and quickly reached for a bar of soap, intending to wash and climb out.

‘Just leave it on the bed, please, Jane,' she called out, convinced that the maid had returned with her gown.

There was no reply, but she heard footsteps, and then the creak of the bathroom door and she glanced over her shoulder, about to tell the maid to find her silk stockings and corset and lay them out, too, only to discover that it was not the maid standing there. ‘Reid!'

Instinctively she sat forwards and hunched over as she drew her arms across her chest. From where he stood in the doorway, Reid could see no more than the smooth, wet curve of her back, her hair twisted up in a knot on top of her head and revealing the delicate slenderness of her neck.

‘What do you want on the bed?' he drawled, leaning on the door frame, his voice soft and lazy as he looked at her in the bath, then raising his eyes to the lurid mural.

‘Go away!' Sasha exclaimed, blushing hotly.

‘Why? I'm rather enjoying the view.'

‘Well, don't! I'm bathing.'

‘I can see that.' He smiled, and added, ‘I was talking about the ceiling.'

‘Don't be a cad, and close the door!'

‘A cad? Sasha, I don't think there is much of you that I haven't already seen.'

‘That's different, I was ill then.'

His smile deepened into a grin as he levered himself away from the door and came in, unlinking the cuffs on his shirt sleeves. ‘And now you are not ill. And we are, to all intents and purposes, husband and wife.' He looked at her for a long moment with his dark blue eyes. ‘Or we will be as soon as we have the opportunity to, um…consummate.'

Sasha gasped, her eyes lifting to his. ‘I thought we agreed that I would leave—'

‘Did I agree, Sasha?' He finished unbuttoning his shirt, shrugged it off and then sat down on a small gilt stool as he removed his shoes and socks. ‘It has suddenly occurred to me that really the best possible solution is for us to stay married.'

‘What on earth are you doing?' demanded Sasha, suddenly finding it very difficult to breathe, her cheeks scarlet, distracted from what he was saying by his actions.

‘I'm going to have a nice, refreshing bath before dinner.'

‘But— But— I— I'm in the bath!'

His eyes scanned the huge enamel tub. ‘Well, move over, then, and make some room.'

‘I most certainly will not!'

‘Why?'

Sasha heaved an exasperated sigh. ‘Why do you always have to ask “why”?'

He shrugged, standing up to unfasten his breeches. ‘Because like most males I cannot follow your female train of thought.'

Sasha averted her face as he peeled off his breeches, and then she looked back, convinced that he had not yet removed his under-drawers, only to find him standing there naked. She
could not stifle a small exclamation of surprise, nor a discreet peek about the floor.

‘I'm not wearing any,' he murmured. ‘Spoils the fit.'

Sasha blinked, arrested by the stunning sight of Reid with no clothes on, her eyes skimming over the suntanned width of his shoulders, his broad chest covered with a scattering of bronze hairs that arrowed down the lean flat planes of his abdomen, his heavily muscled biceps a reminder of how easily he had carried her. Her eyes moved down to the male parts of him, her curiosity overriding her embarrassment, and she could see that he was as perfectly formed as any Grecian statue of a male god. She was still looking when, with an agile movement, Reid climbed into the bath. As two feet landed in the water between her ankles Sasha suddenly jumped up, in her haste slipping on the bar of soap she had dropped in the water.

‘Steady.' Reid grasped her by the elbows and looked down at her, his glance sweeping over her small high breasts, her slender hips and the dark patch between her thighs.

Sasha had never, of course, stood naked with a man before in her life, and she looked up at him with huge eyes, her lips parted, swollen and red from the heat of the water and her sensual thoughts. The molten surge of arousal was a new sensation for her, yet warring with her blushing inexperience of such an intimate situation. She became aware that his body had reacted to her gaze and to her naked female body as much as she had reacted to his maleness.

He smiled, unabashed, amused by her awestruck glance, murmuring reassuringly, ‘Don't be afraid.'

‘Reid, I've never— That is, I— I…'

‘Shh,' he murmured. ‘I know.'

‘I don't think I could…' Sasha gasped, with a nervous glance downwards at the much enlarged evidence of his arousal.

His hand gently stroked her hip, urging her closer, but just at that moment the bedchamber door opened and they heard the tap of heels and the soft voice of the maid as she idly hummed
‘My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean' under her breath, moving about the bedchamber as she laid out the freshly pressed gown and Georgia's underwear on the bed.

‘Damnation,' Reid exclaimed under his breath, ‘are we never to have any privacy?'

Sasha quickly climbed out of the bath and reached for one of the large fluffy white towels placed on a low marble-topped table, wrapping it around her, and backing away from him, averting her eyes from the sight of so much powerful and blatant masculinity. With a sigh Reid sank down into the water, and lay back for a moment, saying, ‘Close the door on your way out, please.'

Sasha needed no second bidding and she did as he asked, then hurried to put on her underclothes. Jane helped her to dress, fastening the long row of pearl buttons at the back of the evening gown, the bodice made of lace and high-necked. The bustle supported a train that swept elegantly behind her as she walked, the very height of fashion, but just a little too long, the gown having been made for Georgia.

Once she was dressed she sat down at the ornate triple-mirrored dressing table and Jane set about brushing and sweeping her dark brown hair up into a smooth chignon, fastening a small, delicate pearl-encrusted tiara above her fringe, a box of jewellery being a wedding gift from Reid to his new bride.

‘There, madam, looks lovely.'

‘Thank you.' Sasha stared at her reflection, and then behind her at the door of the bathroom as it opened and Reid emerged, wearing nothing except a towel about his waist.

With a curt nod to Sasha, he walked past them to the adjoining dressing room, where his batman waited with his evening clothes. Sasha could not help but notice that the maid followed him with her eyes, and indeed, Reid was a beautiful sight to behold.

‘Thank you, Jane, that will be all.' Sasha spoke a little more
sharply than she had intended, and with a dipped curtsy the maid turned about and left the room.

For long moments Sasha sat and stared at her face in the mirror. It would be a very long evening, Sasha thought, another meal of many courses, the strain of making conversation with strangers, and a sense of loneliness that seemed to be unfurling within her now that the journey was over and they had arrived in St Petersburg. London seemed very far away indeed, and she wished so much that her papa and her sisters were all here with her. She had never in her life been apart from them, and their chatter and her father's strict sensible ways would at this moment be so very welcome. She felt very unsure about who it was that looked back at her in the mirror, and what she would become if she allowed Reid to persuade her to fall in with his plans. Why had he suddenly decided to keep her as his wife? She was sure he was not in love with her, for though they seemed to get along well enough as friends, and respected one another's minds, she feared there was little in the way of hearts involved, as far as Reid was concerned.

A
t dinner Sasha enjoyed talking to Charlotte Hope-Garner, who sat at her left hand and chattered with light-hearted gaiety about her five children whom she so obviously adored; the eldest two boys, aged twelve and fourteen, were boarding at Eton, she explained with shining eyes, leaving her with the three young ones, two girls and another boy aged between seven and two. On her right sat a Russian guest by the name of Dr Alexei Bodanovsky, a physician commissioned to the royal court of Tsar Alexander. He complimented Sasha on her fluent skill with his native tongue and engaged her in an intense discussion about Russia. The food was excellent and the company interesting, yet her attention, her mind, her very heart and soul, wandered.

Reid was seated farther down the table, on the opposite side, and his dinner companions seemed to be equally amusing: a Russian princess on his left and her military husband on his right. Yet throughout the meal her glance often strayed and met his. By the look in his blue eyes she was left in no doubt that his thoughts strayed, too, into secret places that brought a blush to her neck and cheeks.

It was very late indeed when at last they retired. They took their leave of the few guests still lingering in the drawing room
with their hosts and climbed the stairs to their bedchamber. As they traversed the thick carpet on the first landing, Sasha broke the silence by making a comment about the pleasant evening, and Reid nodded a reply. She glanced at him, from the corner of her eye. He seemed rather quiet and she wondered if there was anything wrong, if
she
had done something wrong.

‘Dinner was excellent,' Sasha ventured as they climbed the next flight of stairs.

‘Yes.'

‘The chicken was delicious. I wonder what it was.'

‘I think it is a dish from Kiev.'

‘I didn't really enjoy that lumpy black stuff at the beginning.'

He smiled down at her. ‘Caviar is an acquired taste.'

They came to their door and Reid opened it, stepping aside to allow her to pass first. Once they were inside he closed it behind him, looked for a key, but there was none, and then loosened his white bow tie and shrugged off his black tails.

Sasha kicked off her shoes, and removed the pearl tiara from her hair, sighing as she laid it on the dressing table. ‘I'm so tired I could sleep for a week.'

She went to the bed and picked up the long-sleeved nightgown of frilled white cambric that the maid had left out for her, and then turned to Reid and asked for his assistance to unbutton her dress. He came to her side and deftly unhooked the long row of pearl buttons, unlaced her corset and then turned abruptly away from her, saying that he was going outside onto the balcony to get a breath of fresh air.

Sasha looked up, holding the bodice of her gown modestly to her chest. ‘There is no need to leave, it's freezing out there. I will go into the bathroom and undress, if you wish.'

He stopped and turned back to look at her, with a quizzical frown. ‘It is not my wishes that matter, Sasha. I am only thinking of you, and your delicate…situation.'

His remark puzzled her, and she called out as he walked away. ‘Reid?'

Again he halted and turned to face her. ‘What?'

‘Have I done something wrong?'

‘No, of course not.'

‘You seem very…cool.'

‘Do I? I'm sorry.' He hesitated, and then seemed about to say something, and she waited expectantly, but he merely said, ‘Get undressed and into bed.'

As the balcony door closed behind him, the white voile billowing on the icy draught, Sasha hurried to divest herself of the chiffon gown, her corset, petticoats and bustle. Then she went into the bathroom and washed quickly, brushed her teeth, pulled on her nightgown and returned, barefoot, to the bedchamber. For a moment she stared at the vast expanse of the bed, and then she dragged back the covers and arranged some of the pillows down the middle of the mattress. She had no idea why Reid had suddenly cooled in his ardour, but until he explained himself he was certainly not going to do any consummating of any kind tonight!

Out on the balcony, Reid gazed at the dark city of St Petersburg silhouetted by the pale light of a half-moon. There were a few boats out on the River Neva, their lanterns glowing yellow in the dark, and the glint of inky water rippling here and there at their passing by. It had been a very busy day; from what Sir Stanley had told him he knew very well that beneath the serene surface of this magnificent city lurked an undercurrent of evil. He had drawn the conclusion that the best thing for Sasha would be for her to return to London. Besides the danger of riots and bombs here in the city, he considered their encounter in the bathroom earlier in the evening.

He had never been with a virgin before and she seemed so delicate and vulnerable, so pure and innocent, that he could not imagine satisfying his carnal desires with her. She had seemed nervous and embarrassed and he wondered if she thought lovemaking only involved kisses and cuddling and not much else. With her strict upbringing, how could she be blamed for being
innocent? Indeed, he knew well enough that it was no fault of Sasha's, yet when he compared her to someone like her sister Georgia—even though no doubt her nurturing had been just as strict, she was by nature earthy and voluptuous, a girl who would do anything, anywhere, and thoroughly enjoy it.

No, he sighed, he was not sure he could have a passionate relationship with Sasha. Yet to all intents and purposes the world now viewed her as his wife, so how could he do anything other than make her truly his wife, in every way? Her honour would be ruined if they now confessed, as well as his career, the effects rippling far and wide to tarnish both their families. Reid sighed, aware that Sasha had become a part of his life and his thoughts, and for her to leave both did not appeal to him. He went back inside, closing the door and glancing across the room at the small shape of Sasha lying in the huge bed.

 

Sasha lay curled up under the heavy bedcovers of eiderdown and sheets. She felt the cold draught as the balcony door opened, and then its click as Reid closed it behind him. She heard him move about as he undressed, the clunk of his shoes dropping on the floor, and then the room went very dark as he turned out all the lamps. She felt the mattress dip slightly as he climbed in, and the tug of the covers as he pulled them over his shoulder. Sasha held her breath, both of them aware of a tension as they settled into the comfortable bed. She stared into the darkness, at the vague shape of Reid's broad back, her heart suddenly pounding, wondering if he was going to turn to her and she would discover the secrets of passion between a man and a woman. As tantalising a thought as that was, Sasha suddenly swallowed nervously, realising that a man like Reid must have a great deal of experience of lovemaking, and she, as a virgin, had none. What if she made a fool of herself? What if he was not pleased with her? And just as swiftly came the stark reminder that their relationship was illicit and they should not be in this bed together at all! She wondered if Reid was having the same
thoughts, as he made no move to turn around and touch her, but merely murmured a good-night.

‘Good night,' Sasha replied, and then closed her eyes, her trust in him unwavering as she snuggled down and eventually slept.

 

It was still dark when a sound startled Sasha awake. She jerked, staring about the room, wondering where she was, a little confused and disorientated as she realised that this was not her Roseberry Street bedroom. And then it came again, several loud, staccato bangs. She sat up and threw back the bedcovers, exclaiming as she ran across the room to look out. ‘What on earth was that?'

Reid had been wakened by the sounds, too, but he knew at once what they were. He jumped out of the bed and grasped her arm, pulling her back as she made to draw aside the curtains and peer out into the street. ‘Sasha, come away from the window.'

‘Did you hear that?' She half turned towards him.

He nodded his head. ‘Yes. It's rifle shots.'

Sasha gasped, and made to rush to the window again, but he held her back. ‘Who on earth would be out with a rifle at this time of night?'

Reid smiled as he replied drily, ‘Not the sort of people you or I would care to meet, but don't worry, we are perfectly safe here in the Embassy. Come now, get back into bed.'

‘But—'

‘There is nothing to see.' He propelled her towards the bed, and bundled her into it, pulling the covers up over her before walking around and climbing back into his side.

Sasha lay there on her back, rigid, listening, but acutely aware that Reid had seemed very…naked. Before she could ponder on this interesting fact a sudden noise outside made her sit up, listening to the thunder of galloping horses on the rough cobbles, guttural shouts and shots that made the glass panes of the French doors rattle. With a squeal of alarm, and swift agility, Sasha
leapt over her self-imposed barrier of pillows and all but flung herself against Reid.

‘It's all right,' he soothed, his arm folding around her shoulders as she clung to him, trembling. ‘There's nothing to worry about.' He repeated his earlier reassurance. ‘We are safe here.'

Sasha groaned, turning her face into the smooth skin of his brawny shoulder, conceding that she did feel safe within the protection of his arms. ‘Reid, what on earth have we got ourselves into?'

He grunted, but now was not the time to add to her fears by explaining that Russia was a turbulent nation on the brink of revolution. He moderated his response, merely stating, ‘You should know well enough that the Russians are a volatile people.'

She gave a short, unamused laugh. ‘Indeed they are, which makes me worry even more.'

His hand stroked her hair back from one temple. ‘As long as we are careful, it will not affect us to any great degree.'

‘Do you really think so?' In the dark she looked up at him, moving her head and body to face him. ‘Will we be able to go about our normal lives, as we would in London?'

‘Well, no. Some things will be different; we must be more careful and you must never go out alone, always take an escort.'

‘Reid, you are scaring me.'

‘I only want you to be aware, Sasha. Now, go to sleep. In the morning it will all seem much better.'

She smiled slightly. ‘That's what my papa says.'

‘Hmm.' Reid wasn't sure if he liked being compared to her father, but he said softly, ‘Good night.'

She murmured a reply, but made no move to lie apart from him. He felt so warm and big, the solid length of his body beside her, a bastion that she could lean on. She closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep, but she was far too aware of the bulk of his thigh and the wide barrel of his ribs, and the hairs of his chest, his skin, and his male, musky smell, and his breathing. She could tell that he, too, was not able to return to the depths of
slumber, his breathing uneven, punctuated now and then by the workings of his throat as he swallowed. She felt tension in his body, and if she moved her legs against him, she could feel that he wore not a stitch of clothing. She remembered that earlier in the day he had been about to kiss her, and how much she wished that he had. Now, they lay awake, so much aware of each other in these intimate circumstances that it was impossible to sleep.

Impulsively she asked, ‘Do you always sleep naked?'

Reid smiled in the dark, shifting slightly to accommodate her weight against him. ‘That's not a very ladylike question, Miss Packard.'

‘Mrs Bowen,' she corrected, with a mischievous smile.

His smile darkened to a puzzled frown, ‘Now that's a question we certainly need to attend to.'

‘We really should come clean and tell everyone the truth.'

He was silent, pondering, his fingers toying with the long strands of her hair as they lay in disarray about her shoulders.

When he made no response, Sasha poked him in the ribs with her finger. ‘Reid?'

His fingers circled her shoulder. ‘Don't worry yourself too much about it, I'll sort something out.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Sasha, my little innocent, do you not realise that it is far too late for you to be leaving me? Thanks to your sister we are now husband and wife, or so everyone thinks, and to try to undo that and go our separate ways as though nothing has happened is, I fear, impossible. The scandal would be so great that you would become an outcast from society.'

Sasha listened to him in silence, and licked her lips nervously as she realised what he was trying to tell her. Not only would she be an outcast as a result of the scandal, but Reid, too, would not go scot-free. He might even be dismissed from the Army. With a sudden stab of alarm and fear for him, she asked in a very soft voice, ‘So, what do you propose, then?'

He smiled above her. ‘Propose is the operative word, my dear.
We must marry, in secret and in all haste. In name only, if that is what you wish.'

Greatly daring, Sasha pressed closer, moving higher up so that she could reach him. She lifted her hand and turned his jaw towards her. ‘No, Reid,' she murmured, ‘I want more than just your name.' She leaned forwards and pressed her mouth to his, in her first real kiss. His lips felt warm and smooth, the stubble of his chin rough against her face.

At first he did not respond, surprised by her boldness, and then slowly he turned towards her and his mouth opened. He rolled her over onto her back and kissed her with careful, tender expertise.

The broad width of his shoulders covered her body and Sasha's heart suddenly started beating very hard. Her lips parted beneath the pressure of his and she gave a little gasp at the firm wet thrust of his tongue stroking inside her mouth and instinctively she let her own tongue entwine with his. The sensation was delightful and unlike anything she had ever known. Her breathing was now quite rapid, though he seemed very much in control of his own, and she gasped and swayed her hips in a natural yearning towards his male body as they kissed.