From Governess to Countess (Matches Made in Scandal #1)(50)
‘At least now we know that your cousin is innocent,’ Allison said tentatively. ‘The murders were nothing to do with acquiring the Derevenko fortune.’
Aleksei sat up with a harsh bark of laughter. ‘Trust you to put a positive slant on the situation. You’re right. It seems like Michael’s change of will was, after all, a coincidence.’
‘Your brother must have known, as we all hoped, that Napoleon’s defeat was imminent, that peace would follow. Perhaps he had always wished you to be his children’s guardian, and only ever named Felix because you were not available?’
‘I don’t know. I suppose that makes sense.’ Aleksei rubbed his eyes wearily. ‘Perhaps.’
‘I’m sorry, but it looks unlikely that you will ever know some things for certain. I am so very sorry that I can’t give you the complete proof you need. I know how much you want to be sure of the facts.’
‘And how sure I was, that I wanted to know them,’ Aleksei said, with a twisted smile. ‘We have a Russian saying, it means something along the lines of impaling oneself with one’s own bayonet.’
‘Shooting yourself in the foot. I prefer to say, be careful what you wish for.’
‘I think I prefer that too. When you arrived here, my most fervent wish was to uncover the true circumstances surrounding my brother’s death. With your help, we’ve done that, and though we don’t have complete proof, I think we have proved what happened beyond all reasonable doubt.’
‘Will that be enough for you, Aleksei?’
‘It is enough for your English courts, and so must be enough for me. I need time to think. I need time to come to terms with it, but it will have to be enough. Which effectively means that you have fulfilled the primary objective of your contract. Congratulations.’
His words silenced both of them. Allison flushed red and then turned quite pale. Her eyes were stricken. ‘You wish me to return to England forthwith?’ she asked, with a catch in her throat.
No! It was like a punch in the gut. Of course he had always known she would go, but—but not yet. Though he didn’t have any right to detain her. And perhaps he was mistaken, and she was keen to go and get on with carving the new life she talked so passionately about. ‘There is no perpetrator to be brought to justice,’ Aleksei continued roughly, ‘indeed no justice to be served, for I am hardly going to cause a scandal by proclaiming murder.’
‘So now you can make plans to give the children into Felix’s care,’ Allison said, her practical words belied by the giveaway catch in her voice. ‘And Anna can resume her duties, I suppose. The children adore her. Now that she can return, I won’t have to worry about—they won’t miss me.’
They would, but not as much as he would. And as for the children, he felt strangely resistant to releasing them into anyone’s care. Timing, Aleksei told himself, that was all it was. He wasn’t ready to hand them over yet. Any more than he was ready to let Allison go. Not quite yet. ‘I have not decided whether to re-employ the Orlova woman yet,’ he said. ‘And if you recall, the terms of your contract included a secondary objective, of taking care of the children. So that duty is not fully discharged, Governess.’
His words were mere sophistry and if he knew it, so too must she. But she chose not to dispute it. With relief Aleksei noted her demeanour brighten visibly. Allison didn’t want to go either. Not yet. Thank the stars she was so endearingly transparent.
‘I would not like to leave so abruptly as Madame Orlova,’ she said. ‘The children do not love me as much, but I think they do care a little.’
‘They care a great deal, as you must know,’ Aleksei said, sitting back down beside her, taking her hands in his, refusing to acknowledge how relieved he was save in the tightening of his clasp. ‘We will need to accustom them to the idea of your departure.’ And himself too. ‘Allow them to spend a bit more time enjoying your company before you leave.’ And him too. Yes, that was it. ‘So I’m afraid I can’t release you from your contract just yet.’
‘No, I don’t think you can.’
She smiled at him mistily, and he felt a strange twisting in his gut. A long tress of auburn curls had been released by the hairpin which now lay discarded on the floor, shaped into an imperfect circle. He pushed her silky strands back from her cheek, twining her curls around his finger. Wanting manifested itself in an ache low in his belly. Not desire, something different. He rested his cheek against hers, breathing in her particular scent, his mouth on her hair, and closed his eyes.
Her fingers fluttered over the back of his neck, stroking, soothing. ‘It has been what my grandmother would call a bit of a day,’ she said softly.
Aleksei laughed silently. ‘That is an understatement.’
He lifted his head, capturing her face between his hands. And kissed her.
The sweetest, achingly beautiful of kisses it was. With a soft sigh, she seemed to melt into him. Not surrender, but giving. Succour. Release. He tilted her back on the chaise longue and she lay pliant beneath him, her hands on his arms and his back and his buttocks, smoothing, stroking, and her tongue stroking his. He was melting with their kisses, the balm of them pushing all the trauma of the day to the back of his mind. They were not the answer, those kisses. The questions would return. The agony of not knowing would come back to torture him.