From Governess to Countess (Matches Made in Scandal #1)(51)



‘Allison.’ He said her name, for the simple pleasure of saying it. ‘Allison,’ he said, between kisses. But for now, those kisses were all he needed. For now, she was all he wanted.





Chapter Ten



‘I know you plan to hold your daily lunchtime dispensary, but I promise I’ll have you back in plenty time,’ Aleksei told Allison the next day when she joined him with the children in the reception hall just after breakfast.

‘Where are we going, Uncle Aleksei?’

It was Elena who asked, but all three children eyed him expectantly. ‘We are going to the food market,’ he said, digging into his pockets and producing three purses, which he doled out to each of them in turn. ‘You know, the place where your dinners come from?’ he prompted, when the children stared at him blankly.

‘But our dinners come from the kitchen,’ Nikki protested.

Catiche rolled her eyes. ‘Merchants deliver the food to the kitchens from the market, Nikki.’

‘Most people are obliged to go and buy the food themselves,’ Aleksei told them. ‘Only as much as they can carry. They also have to cook it themselves.’ He knelt down in front of them. ‘We are very privileged. Most people in St Petersburg don’t live in a palace or have servants.’

‘Of course we know that, but...’ Catiche bit her lip.

‘What is it?’

‘We are Derevenkos,’ the girl said earnestly. ‘Papa would not allow us to mix with ordinary people.’

‘Then it’s high time that you did. Think of it as an outdoor lesson, part of your education.’ Aleksei got to his feet and ruffling their hair. ‘But fun too.’

‘What do we need this for, Uncle Aleksei?’ Elena pulled out a coin from the purse, studying it as if she had never before seen such a thing. Which she might well never have, Allison thought with amusement.

‘To buy whatever takes your fancy,’ Aleksei said, putting his hat on. ‘Now, if you are all ready?’

The three ran outside, stopping short when they discovered there was no carriage awaiting them. When Aleksei informed them that they were to walk along the river to their destination, they gazed at their uncle in astonishment. Allison waited for either Catiche or Elena to complain that walking was beneath the dignity of a Derevenko, but to her surprise, they exchanged excited glances, linked hands with Nikki between them, and set off along the wide embankment at a skip.

‘I hadn’t thought about it before,’ Allison said, as Aleksei drew her arm into his, ‘but any time they leave the palace it is either in the carriage, or in the boat.’

‘Safe from contact with the great unwashed. Catiche was right, Michael would heartily disapprove of today’s outing.’

‘Is that why you decided upon it?’

He laughed. ‘No. I meant what I said to the children. They have been far too closeted from the world, and they have far too inflated an opinion of themselves.’

‘That’s unfair. They are not conceited.’

‘No. But they are arrogant—or they will be, if someone doesn’t teach them that not everyone is as lucky as them.’ He smiled down at her, and she wondered how she could ever have thought his eyes icy. ‘I also thought it high time that you sampled some of our traditional Russian food.’

‘Is it the same market where Elizaveta...?’

He put his gloved finger to her mouth. ‘Let us not talk of that today. But be reassured, I have checked with Nyanya, and none of the children have inherited their mother’s intolerance to fish, so if they want to sample a coulibiac then they may.’

That he had had the foresight to check was astonishing, Allison thought as Aleksei directed Catiche to turn left over the canal. Then there were the little coin purses. But most astonishing of all was the fact that Aleksei had dreamed up the expedition in the first place.

The market was a long, low building rather like a very large stable, painted terracotta and white. Inside, the space was cavernous, with rows and rows of stalls set out around a huge fountain. The children, quite overawed, huddled close to Aleksei and Allison, their eyes wide with wonder. As her own most likely were, for though she was accustomed to the Covent Garden market, there was almost nothing at all familiar in the wares on display, save the flowers, which spilled out in large buckets in the space closest to the fountain.

One half of the market was given over to basic foodstuffs. Vendors of the same foods were grouped together. There were greengrocers in one corner. Along the back wall were all the fish stalls and the butchers, where the various cuts were set out like a work of art, black and white sausages strung out between the shelves like bunting. Next came cheeses, milk and curds. The breads at the bakers’ stalls came in all shapes and sizes, sold whole or by weight. There were rye breads and black breads, soft white floury breads, and crispy, long breads plaited into complex shapes. The smells were mouth-watering. To the children’s delight, one baker offered them sugar-coated sticks of hot fried dough, which they took, too awed to say thank you, until prompted by Aleksei.

The baker bowed low to Nikki, who returned the bow, making the man laugh. From a sweetmeat stall, a woman approached bearing a tray of twisted barley sugars, begging Aleksei for permission to approach. ‘Only one piece each,’ he cautioned them, slipping some coins unobtrusively into the woman’s hand.

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