Splendor (26 page)

Alexi stretched out his legs. "How easy it is to have regrets—and how convenient. How difficult, though, it is to make amends." He smiled at the assembly.

Marie-Elena stared at him, her eyes cold, not saying a word.

Sverayov stood, his temper obvious, but he spoke calmly enough. "Katya, why do you not choose a piece of pastry for yourself and pass the platter to Miss Browne?" He

smiled at his daughter, then met Carolyn's gaze, his smile vanishing.

Her heart beat hard. She was just now, finally, realizing how impossible the situation was. Marie-Elena regretted the past, was impossibly beautiful, and would surely win back Sverayov's heart. As she should. She was, after all, both his wife and the mother of his child.

While she, Carolyn, was an interloper, and if events continued as they had thus far developed, she would also become the other woman—an intolerable circumstance. Carolyn looked down at her hands, clasped in her lap. Tears burned her eyes.

But it was a good thing that she had come to tea. To see him and his family. Finally she had been confronted with the truth of his life.

Alexi stood and bowed at Carolyn. '*I am afraid I cannot linger, as I have other engagements. As always, Miss Browne, it is a great pleasure to be in your company." His smile was wide, but it reached his eyes, and Carolyn knew she had somehow made a new friend. He then stooped low and kissed Katya. "Later, dushka,'' he said.

She nodded, her expression remaining somber.

Ignoring Marie-Elena, he strode from the room.

Marie-Elena's eyes sparked with anger, but her tone was languid. "He is such a boor." Then she turned to face Carolyn. "So you decided to call upon my husband?" She smiled.

"Actually," Sverayov said, "I invited her to tea."

"How kind of you," Marie-Elena said. She faced Carolyn. "How atwitter you must be, to have the attention of a man like my husband."

Carolyn could not smile. "I do not twitter. Especially over men. I am an enlightened woman." How she wished to brush any obvious moisture from her eyes.

Marie-Elena's eyes widened. "Oh, I do beg your pardon."

"Miss Browne's passions are reserved solely for her books and the many causes she espouses," Sverayov in-

teijected in a tone of authority. But there was also an oddly gentle pitch to his voice.

Carolyn started, grateful for such high praise at that moment. He smiled faintly at her.

Marie-Elena looked from one to the other. "So she is an expert on children and books, and you are an expert on her?" she asked, her tone high and fixedly sweet.

"r doubt any man could be an expert on the subject of Miss Browne."

Carolyn flushed with pleasure, looking away.

Marie-Elena's black brows lifted. "Well, well, my husband so rarely dispenses praise. Miss Browne. You have accomplished an impossible feat in winning his admiration."

"Madame, you may pour," Sverayov said flatly.

Marie-Elena smiled quickly at him and began to pour the tea into fine, gilt-rinmied porcelain cups. Her slim, elegant hands were steady. She wore a huge yellow diamond on her left hand. "So Niki invited you to tea. I suppose it was to discuss books?" She offered Carolyn a cup.

"I invited Miss Browne to take tea with myself and Ka-tya because Katya enjoys Miss Browne's company," Sverayov said, smiling at his daughter.

Her brows shot up. "And how is that? When did you meet my daughter? I do not understand."

"They met the other day." Sverayov's gaze softened as it settled on Katya again—before he looked directly at Carolyn. "Miss Browne helped us with the cat."

And in that moment, Carolyn glimpsed Marie-Elena staring at Sverayov with hostile eyes. An instant later, her angelic mask was back in place. It had happened so quickly that Carolyn wondered if she had imagined it. Her temples throbbed now. How she wanted to escape the room, the house, the family. She would seize the first acceptable moment. Carolyn intended to go home and cry. How foolish she had been.

"She helped with the cat," Marie-Elena repeated. "How wonderful. How kind." She faced her daughter, smiling

brightly. "Katya, darling, do you know that you have yet to show me your new cat?"

Katya's gaze was fastened on her mother. "You did not ask to see him," she said in a low, cautious voice.

"I am asking now." Marie-Elena was gay. "We shall go see your cat directly after tea. Perhaps we shall go out together and buy him a pretty collar." She turned suddenly to Carolyn. "You are not enjoying your tea. Is something amiss?"

This was the opportunity she had been hoping for. "My head aches," Carolyn said. "I am sorry to be rude, but I do think I must go." She stood, avoiding Sverayov's eyes. One quick glimpse told her they were searching.

Sverayov stepped forward. "I wish to speak privately with you, before you go."

Carolyn froze, her gaze lifting to his. She was in disbelief. How could he suggest a private meeting now? In front of his wife? But he had said yesterday that they would discuss what had happened. She trembled, truly wanting to flee. "Perhaps we can discuss whatever it is you wish at a later date?"

"I think not." He was firm.

Marie-Elena also stood and smiled at Carolyn. "I do hope we have the pleasure again."

Carolyn could only nod. "Do hug to Alexander for me," she whispered to Katya, "and I will drop those storybooks by."

Katya smiled. "Thank you. Miss Browne." She hesitated. "Perhaps, if Father allows it, you could come to tea again."

Never, Carolyn thought. "Perhaps," she said. Impulsively she bent and hugged the child hard, in spite of her mother, whom Carolyn could feel stiffening behind them.

"Let us go to the library," Sverayov said. He gestured for her to precede him, which Carolyn did. She could feel Marie-Elena's eyes burning on her back until they rounded the comer. Once inside the book-lined room, Sverayov closed the door. Carolyn walked over to the empty hearth

and stared into it. She felt him come up behind her.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

She did not turn. "I am fine."

"You are not fine. You are upset. Please look at me, Carolyn."

She flinched at his use of her name. She turned. The intensity of his gaze took her breath away. "Yesterday . . . was a mistake."

He stared and said softly, "Was it?"

"Yes." She meant to be firm, but heard the quaver in her own tone.

His jaw tightened. "Perhaps it was a mistake. But not for the reason you are thinking."

She could not help herself. "So you do read minds?"

He smiled. "Perhaps I read yours."

Her smile faded. She stared. His golden gaze was mesmerizing. And it was there again, between them, inexorable, intolerable, a force that seemed determined to pull her toward him.

"You are upset," he said softly, "because Marie-Elena is a superb dramatist. You have been taken in by her theatrics."

Carolyn could hardly breathe. "She is your wife, the mother of your child, she has the face of an angel, and she loves you."

For one moment, he was silent. "I beg to differ with you. She loves no one but herself."

"I do not know why you are so set against her, but it is clear to me, an outsider, that she wishes to win back your heart." Carolyn studied him carefully.

But his expression remained serious, dangerously so. "She has never had my heart, so she could not possibly win it back." He suddenly tilted up her chin with two long fingers, then dropped his hand to his side. "A vain, empty-minded woman could never hold my affection," he said.

Carolyn inhaled. She must not, she knew, take his meaning literally—or any other way. She must not.

"You have read Adam Smith, the economist?"

Carolyn started. "Of course."

"You undervalue yourself," he said softly.

She could only stare. Her heartbeat had become thunderous.

His expression changed. "I did not ask you here to discuss my wife. I have something else on my mind."

Carolyn tensed. Surely he would not refer to their passion of the other day. It had been a mistake, and she was convinced of that. Of course, it was easy to be rational, but how to convince her heart to follow suit? She was heartsick.

"I have a business proposition for you."

Instantly Carolyn became alert. She had not expected this. "You wish to discuss business with me? I do not understand." What did business have to do with the passion they had shared?

"You will." He paced a few steps away from her, then back. "You are very good for Katya." He was blunt. "I wish to offer you a position here, in my household, as her companion and supervisor, if you will."

Carolyn gaped.

^ Eighteen ^

SVERAYOV smiled at her. "You appear stunned," he said.

"I am stunned." Carolyn turned and walked toward a group of chairs, running her palm along the high wooden back of one. Her mind raced, spun. This was the very last thing she had expected. And why was she not refusing, immediately?

Katya's image was there in her mind, that of a lonely, needy child. Sverayov's child. Carolyn slowly turned to find him watching her with his brilliant eyes. "This is very complicated."

"It is only complicated if you allow it to be," he said flatly.

Their gazes met. Carolyn did not look away, but she was thinking, trying desperately to identify her many roiling emotions. She was compelled by this man. She liked him, admired him even, and found him insanely attractive. She was jealous of his wife. There, she had admitted it. Even though he was not for her, a mere bookseller's daughter, an exceedingly romantic part of her yearned for a Cinderella storybook ending. Carolyn rubbed her temples. This was not going to work. It would be an impossible situation. The two of them, together in the very same house.

He smiled, and the comers of his eyes crinkled in a very attractive manner. "Say yes," he said. "I shall pay you handsomely, you need only name your price."

Carolyn froze. She and her father desperately needed funds. They teetered on the brink of severe impoverishment. But that, of course, should not sway her. "Excellency," she said slowly, "I love working with my father in the store. I love books." She wanted to confront him directly—and ask him, what about last night? And tomorrow and the day after that? What about us?

"I know. You are perfect for her, Carolyn."

She tensed. The way her name rolled off his tongue was enough to make her recall every moment of passion shared between them. She suspected he was now attempting to seduce her to his cause. "What about your wife?"

He made a dismissive gesture. "My wife does not run this household. I do not think I have been clear. My wife is returning home in another week or so, as soon as the physician says she is rested enough to travel. My wife will reside at Tver—indefinitely. Katya will remain here with me, but once my job in England is done, she will return to St. Petersburg. I, of course, will resume my command in the First Army."

Carolyn blinked. She was trying, desperately, to understand what was happening. "Tver is your country home," she said cautiously. "Why is Katya not going there with her mother?"

His regard remained steady, but enigmatic. ' T have personal reasons. But I shall try to elaborate. Marie-Elena does not wish to go to Tver. I am ... insisting."

Carolyn's eyes widened. She could read between the lines. He was forcing his wife to go to the country—to remain there. It was not unheard of. Unwanted wives were often shunted aside in such a fashion. But what, exactly, did this mean?

And although Carolyn did not like Marie-Elena, she could not help but be disturbed by Sverayov's arrogant, high-handed, dictatorial behavior. No woman should be sent away as if she were a mere unfeeling object.

Carolyn's mind raced. In another week or so, Marie-Elena was leaving—for Tver. He and Katya would stay in

London, until the treaty was signed, or the peace effort given up. If she dared accept his offer—^which she must not—she would take up a place in his household now, and she would see him on a daily basis. Eventually she would go to St. Petersburg with Katya, while he rejoined his command.

Carolyn could not help being torn and dismayed, but she was also intrigued—and excited. She had never been abroad. The war had seen to that.

Carolyn tried to rein herself in, with some difficulty. She could not help being concerned about Marie-Elena's situation and her feelings. She wished she knew more, but did not dare intrude. And she was certain that she had nothing to do with his decision—she would never assign such importance to her place in his affairs. And she must not even contemplate the fact that his wife would shortly be leaving town. That was dangerous—and wrong.

She tore her gaze from his and walked across the large salon. She should not accept the post of companion to Katya. Even though the little girl desperately needed her, or someone like her. But she was so tempted. And was it because she genuinely liked Katya, and wanted to help her? Or because she was so damnably attracted to the girl's father? To the point of following him shamelessly back to his homeland?

"Katya needs you. You are bright and bold, well educated, opinionated, articulate. And most importantly, you are kind. Kind and caring. I saw how Katya reacted to you, both the other day and a few moments ago. Akeady she likes you very much," Sverayov said. "She especially needs you because her mother will be absent."

Carolyn chose her words with care. "Excellency, considering what happened in the park the other day, and last night in the carriage, do you think this would, truly, be a good idea?"

His easy expression vanished. His eyes were piercing. "Yes, I do. I have given this tremendous thought. My daughter needs someone exactly like you."

Carolyn sat down abruptly. "If I refuse, who will be in charge when you return to Russia?'' That worried Carolyn.

"TaichiU," he said.

Carolyn grimaced. But she was even more worried about residing in his home with him present.

"I see that you are anxious," he said. "Why do you not speak freely, Carolyn?"

"I do not think your wife would like it if I took up this position now."