From Governess to Countess (Matches Made in Scandal #1)(24)
Elena, on the other hand, was less troubled but more troublesome. The middle child, angelically fair and very much aware of her charm, it was she who pulled her siblings’ strings. If Allison wasn’t so set upon being charitable, she’d have labelled Elena a precocious brat in need of a good setting down. A true child of St Petersburg was Elena, a consummate machinator who would baulk at nothing to achieve her objectives. And her objective was clearly to have their new governess dispatched back to England, the sooner the better.
Allison was no teacher, but she had dedicated her life to caring, and had always considered herself empathetic, yet she had signally failed to engage with her charges. She was most horribly aware that her overtures were becoming increasingly desperate and therefore increasingly transparent. The harder she tried, the more the children responded with what seemed to be contempt. Only Nikki seemed inclined to succumb to her attempts at friendly engagement, but Elena always made sure this weakness in her brother was short-lived, her sotto voce threats in Russian clearly intended to remind him of where his loyalties lay.
And then there was the dog. Allison shuddered with distaste. As if on cue, a noxious smell which was becoming revoltingly familiar wafted across the schoolroom, and Ortipo the bulldog gave a self-congratulatory bark. She knew it was ridiculous to think that an animal could be in cahoots with three children, but she was nevertheless sure that this was, somehow, the case. She didn’t like dogs, though she had learnt to keep her feelings on the subject to herself, for the English, she had discovered, were inordinately fond of the creatures. Wives neglected by their husbands, and children neglected by their parents found, in the family lapdog, a comfort and companionship that Allison found odd but comprehensible.
Ortipo, however, was by no stretch of the imagination a tame lapdog. He didn’t like to be petted, and took to growling menacingly at the least provocation. With the face of a failed pugilist, the breath of a dedicated drunkard, and a digestive system which would put an incontinent sow to shame, as far as Allison was concerned, Ortipo was as endearing as a decaying rat. Needless to say, the Derevenko children were besotted with him.
Ortipo, his expression impassive, extruded another noxious emission. Nikki giggled, holding his nose, and Allison only just managed to suppress a retch. ‘Do you not think,’ she said, trying not to breathe through her nose, ‘the animal would be happier in the fresh air, rather than cooped up in the schoolroom?’
Catiche responded with a haughty look. ‘Ortipo is not an animal, he is a bulldog with a very impressive pedigree. What is more, Ortipo is a Derevenko, and therefore does no one’s bidding. Especially not an Englishwoman’s.’
‘Miss Galbraith is not English, she is from Scotland.’
Allison whirled around. Aleksei stood in the doorway, clad in riding clothes. His boots were dusty, he had obviously just arrived back for he was still carrying his gloves and whip, and judging from his expression, his search had been fruitless. ‘Children, bid your uncle good morning.’
The request was unnecessary. All three were already on their feet, the girls dropping into careful curtsies, Nikki making a stumbling bow. Even Ortipo rolled upright from his bed with a welcoming yap to sit alert at Aleksei’s feet, his stumpy tail thumping on the floor.
‘What,’ Aleksei said, wrinkling his nose, ‘is that disgusting smell.’
‘It is Ortipo,’ Nikki said shyly, gazing up at his uncle with reverence.
Aleksei ignored the child, turning to Catiche. ‘Get him out of here.’
‘No!’
Aleksei turned his attention to Elena. ‘I beg your pardon?’
The child, ignoring her big sister’s warning look, held her ground under his steely gaze, much to Allison’s admiration. ‘Uncle Aleksei,’ she said, ‘Ortipo is our friend. He will be sad if he can’t be with us.’
‘Dogs cannot be sad,’ Aleksei said, frowning down at his niece. ‘And dogs as noxious as this have no place in the schoolroom.’
‘But...’
‘That is quite enough, Elena,’ Allison said crisply, seeing that the girl was going to remonstrate further. ‘It is inexplicable to me,’ she whispered, drawing Aleksei to one side, ‘but the children are extremely attached to the creature.’
‘It is clear that you are not. Why subject yourself...?’
‘Because the children love him, Aleksei. Because Ortipo is all they have left. When Elena said Ortipo will be sad, she meant that she will be sad.’
‘Fine! On your head be it—or should that be your nose?’ Aleksei said shortly. ‘I have more important things to discuss with you than a dog. Call the nanny, I am anxious to hear how you have been progressing. Better than I, I hope.’
Allison’s heart sank at the thought of explaining how her time had been spent in his absence while he was in such a foul mood. ‘No need to call Nyanya just yet,’ she said brightly. ‘It is a lovely day. Children,’ she said, turning to her charges before he could question her, ‘we will take Ortipo for a walk in the gardens.’
*
The children, relieved to be released from another English lesson they didn’t require, needed no encouragement, and ran ahead of them along the paths. ‘I take it you found no trace of Madame Orlova?’ Allison asked, eyeing Aleksei warily.
‘As goose chases go it was a particularly wild one.’