From Governess to Countess (Matches Made in Scandal #1)(10)
‘Very droll. As you well know I had the honour of being asked to deputise for the Tsar here in St Petersburg. A more important task than killing a few Frenchmen, I’m sure you’ll agree. Our Emperor is anxious to bestow several medals on you in recognition of your contribution to our victory.’
‘It was an honour to serve my country,’ Aleksei replied. ‘That is reward enough.’
‘Any other man, I would disbelieve, but I think you actually mean it. I will inform him of your wishes. Besides, you will have no need of any token of his gratitude, will you, Aleksei? Not now that you have the choice of two such pretty little nieces to marry. There’s nothing like keeping it in the family, is there? Oh,’ Arakcheev said, feigning surprise when the Count took an impetuous step forward, ‘come now, if it’s good enough for the Romanovs it’s surely good enough for you? Now, if you will excuse me?’
With a smug smile, the general turned away, leaving Count Derevenko rooted to the spot. ‘People are staring,’ Allison said, tugging at his sleeve.
He cursed viciously in what she assumed must be Russian under his breath. One hand was clenched into a fist. The other dug painfully into her arm. ‘He deliberately set out to rile me.’
‘He succeeded,’ she told him tartly, drawing him aside to the shelter of a small alcove, ‘and you are ensuring that he and everyone else knows it.’
The Count cursed again. ‘If Arakcheev were not in our Emperor’s pocket, that man would long ago have been at the bottom of the Neva River.’
‘He took me for your mistress!’ Now that the encounter was over, Allison was furious. The slander was a horrible reminder of the scurrilous slurs that had been published in the London gutter press. ‘He assumed that I—that you and I—you must put him straight.’
‘And give him the satisfaction of knowing his barbs had hit home? The Count eyed her flushed countenance. ‘You must not take what he says to heart. Arakcheev is a man who thrives on insults, and as taunts go, that was pretty mild. This is St Petersburg. The fact that we are not having an affaire would raise more eyebrows.’
Allison mustered a smile. She had overreacted. It wasn’t as if it mattered what people thought of her here, far from home. ‘You make the city sound like a den of iniquity.’
‘You think I’m exaggerating? You see that woman over there?’ the Count said, with a sneer. ‘The famous—or should I say, infamous—Princess Katya Bagration. I thought she was settled in Paris. I am surprised to see her here.’
Princess Katya, surrounded by a swarm of officers, was very beautiful, with dusky curls, cupid lips and skin like milk. ‘Her gown is quite translucent,’ Allison whispered, for the Princess’s shapely legs could clearly be seen under the filmy gauze of her attire. ‘Under the light of these chandeliers—I wonder if she is aware...’
The Count snorted. ‘She is perfectly aware. In Vienna she is known as the Naked Angel or sometimes the White Pussycat.’
‘The White Pussycat?’
To Allison’s surprise, he looked abashed. ‘Something to do with her particular talents. Forgive me, I have been too long in the company of soldiers.’
‘Particular talents?’ As realisation dawned, Allison gazed over at the beauty in astonishment. ‘Do you mean she is a courtesan?’
‘Not of the type you mean. She demands secrets rather than gold in return for her favours, I am told. Pillow talk of the most dangerous sort,’ the Count clarified, his tone making his feelings very clear. ‘During the Congress, she had both our Emperor and Metternich in tow, amongst others.’
‘She was Tsar Alexander’s mistress? Yet she is received here in the Winter Palace?’
‘That is nothing.’ Taking a glass of champagne for each of them from a passing waiter, Count Derevenko proceeded to give her a sardonic résumé of who, in the ballroom, was involved in clandestine liaisons with whom. ‘As to our Emperor, I would need more than two hands to count the number of women here who have warmed his bed. His Highness is notorious for behaving as if he has more than two hands. If his mistresses were excluded from court on grounds of propriety, this ballroom would be empty. But it is the same in England, is it not? Save that the court there pretends to ignore your Prince George’s indiscretions, including, I am told, his flirtation with our Emperor’s favourite sister, Catherine. In the Court of St Petersburg, indiscretions are part of the fabric of life.’
‘I don’t move in such exalted circles,’ Allison said, feeling like a prude, ‘though my work has taken me to the heart of many high-born families. Is fidelity truly so outmoded?’
‘Once again, the Emperor leads by example. He and Madame Maria Naryshkhina over there have had several children, much to the chagrin of the Empress who remains childless.’
‘There are many women among the poor who would envy her barren state. Mother Nature is often over-generous to those who can least afford it.’
‘But that state of affairs is something which a herbalist could easily remedy, is it not?’
Allison stiffened. ‘What you are implying is not, and has never been a service I provide. Though there are some who do, and some very desperate women who turn to them. I do not judge.’
‘Despite what you think, no more do I. I may be a mere man, but I am aware, Miss Galbraith, that it is women who are forced to bear, most unfairly, the consequences of our masculine desires—whether they want to or not.’