From Governess to Countess (Matches Made in Scandal #1)(52)

A little crowd formed around the children, with offers of pies and pastries, sweetmeats and fruits from competing stallholders, but while Nikki happily helped himself, smiling and laughing in Russian, Catiche was looking very uncomfortable as people milled around them, desperate for a glimpse of the aristocratic visitors. And Elena—where was Elena?

Casting around in a panic, Allison saw her talking animatedly to a young peasant girl. Allison gestured that they should join them, which the awe-struck girl reluctantly did. ‘This is Tatyana,’ Elena informed her. ‘Her papa has the best sweetmeat stall in the market, may I go and see it?’

‘Indeed you may,’ Aleksei said, ‘and take Catiche and Nikki with you. But be sure to pay if you wish to sample anything.’ He smiled down to Tatyana, addressing her in Russian. The little girl looked intimidated at first, but then she smiled, nodded, and seemed, to Allison’s amusement, to grow in stature.

‘What on earth did you say to her?’ she asked, as the four children headed off, with Tatyana firmly in charge.

‘I told her that I relied upon her to look after them and to meet us at the fountain in half an hour.’

‘You think they will be safe on their own?’

‘I forget that you don’t speak Russian, and wouldn’t have heard Nikki boasting that he was Duke Derevenko, and that I am his uncle, the fiercest soldier in the Tsar’s army,’ Aleksei replied wryly. ‘Everyone knows who they are now, and no one would dare harm a hair on their privileged heads. The only threat to them will be a sore stomach from eating too much food. Talking of which...’

The hot-food stalls lined the central aisle of the market. There were large pies, sweet and savoury, called pirog, small ones called pirozhki filled with potatoes and meat, and vatrushka pastries filled with cheese. Knish was a dumpling made of potato, and syrniki pancakes were stuffed with jam. There were endless varieties of cabbage soups and stews, and almost as many dishes featuring pickled cucumbers.

‘I can’t eat another crumb,’ Allison said finally, refusing the tiny blini pancake which Aleksei offered her, ‘I think I might burst.’

He had sampled far more than she, careful to spread their custom as widely as possible, exchanging relaxed banter in Russian with the stallholders. It was the first time she had had the opportunity to watch him like this, and she could easily imagine how he would have been with his men. Though he was perfectly at ease, there was an invisible line between him and the stallholders, drawn out of respect mingled with awe, the product not only of Aleksei’s demeanour, but of his family name.

At the Winter Palace all those weeks ago, and later at Peterhof, she had taken for granted that he not only held his own but stood out among his class. Here at the food market, she had for the first time a taste of the fame which power fuelled. Aleksei might think of himself as first and foremost a soldier. When he said that he loathed the pomp and circumstance of his brother’s rank, she believed him. But he was still of that rank. And that rank was miles above her own lowly station.

*

The children returned to the fountain with empty purses and full stomachs. ‘When I am big, I am going to have a market stall and sell sweetmeats,’ Nikki announced, and for once neither of his sisters reminded him that he was a duke.

Catiche had bought prettily wrapped sweetmeats for Nyanya, while Elena’s gift was for Ortipo. Having, to their delight and astonishment, obtained Aleksei’s permission to bring the famous bulldog on an expedition to meet their new friend Tatyana in the park a few days hence, they were subdued on the way home, though profuse in their thanks for the adventure, when they arrived back at the palace. ‘Even though Papa would never have permitted us to set foot in such a place, I am glad you did, Uncle Aleksei,’ Catiche said. ‘You were right, it was fun.’

Watching them charge up the stairs in search of their nanny, Allison surrendered to the melancholy which had settled on her at the market. She began to walk away in the direction of her dispensary, but Aleksei followed her.

‘What is wrong?’

‘Seeing the reaction to the children at the market reminded me that they are only one step removed from royalty. As are you, Your Illustrious Highness.’ A lump rose in her throat. ‘I’m sorry. It simply struck me forcibly, how very different we are, that is all.’

‘It is precisely because you are so very different from anyone I’ve ever known that I like you so much.’

‘You do?’

He caught her in his arms. ‘How can you doubt it?’

Her heart kicked up a beat. She forgot all about their different social stations, and remembered only how they merged and morphed, one into the other, when they kissed. And when they made love.

‘Only two nights ago,’ Aleksei said, as if he read her thoughts. ‘So much has happened. And, no,’ he added hastily, ‘I do not want to revisit it or think about it.’ He pulled her closer. ‘Do you know what I have found to be the perfect way to stop thinking?’

Allison twined her arms around his neck. ‘No, but I hope you might have stumbled on the same solution as me.’ She kissed him.

‘Identical,’ he said, kissing her back, a deep, hungry kiss that unlike yesterday’s kisses would not be sated simply with more kisses.

‘Will you come to me tonight in my quarters?’

Aleksei exhaled sharply. ‘Are you sure?’