From Governess to Countess (Matches Made in Scandal #1)(69)

‘It’s impossible,’ she said wretchedly. ‘Society would shun us.’

He did not deny this. Instead, he poured himself another cup of tea, frowning heavily, drinking it in one draught as usual. ‘What if you could establish a status here, on your own terms. Not in society, but as part of society, accepted by society, would you marry me then?’

She sipped from her own cup. ‘I cannot change my heritage.’

‘But you could forge a new one,’ Aleksei said eagerly. ‘One that made the old one irrelevant.’

‘How?’

‘I don’t know. Set your dispensary up here in the city—there must be at least as many needy citizens in St Petersburg as London. Take on apprentices, involve some of our society ladies as patronesses. There is nothing this hypocritical court likes so much as being seen to support a good cause, provided they don’t have to get their hands dirty.’

Allison stared at him in astonishment. ‘Are you teasing me?’

‘No. Yes. No. Do you think it’s a good idea? Could you do it?’

‘I think it is genius. I think it could be done, if...’ She bit her lip, but now was not the time for holding back. ‘Aleksei, what about you? You need a purpose too.’

‘Oh, I shall transform Nikki’s estates for him.’

‘That is already in hand, you told me.’

‘Yes, but only on a very small scale so far. Nikki, my love, has some very, very large estates.’

‘Big enough to need dispensaries for the servants?’

He gave a shout of laughter. ‘Big enough to need some huge dispensaries.’

‘So you won’t be spending all your time in St Petersburg?’

‘No, but I am not proposing to travel alone. We will all go. It will be good for Nikki, young as he is, to understand exactly what it is he’s going to inherit.’

Allison sighed. ‘You make it all sound so—so easy. And so wonderful. Do you think it can work?’

Aleksei shrugged, laughed, shook his head, smiled. ‘I wish I could promise you it will, but we don’t lie to each other, do we? I think we would be mad not to try. Now will you marry me?’

She was so very tempted. But it was such a huge risk, and there were so many other uncertainties. ‘A year,’ Allison said. ‘In a year’s time, if we are happy here, truly happy, and we can see a future that will keep us all happy, then ask me again.’

Aleksei checked his watch. ‘Fair enough. A year exactly from today. I will expect you here, in the Square Room, with a yes on your lips.’

‘Provided we are...’

‘Allison, do you doubt that we will be happy?’

‘No. But I doubt...’

‘Have faith, my darling, because you are destined to be Countess Derevenko.’

The way he looked at her made her believe they could do anything together. The way he looked at her made her heart leap, made her pulses flutter, made her want to cast all her doubts aside and say that she would marry him now, become that impossible-to-imagine creature, the Countess Derevenko. But she couldn’t. She needed proof that they could find a way to be happy, and though he might not realise it, he needed it too. ‘A year,’ she said, wrapping her arms around his waist. ‘It is a great deal to achieve in a year.’

‘And a very long time to wait before I can call you my wife.’

He smiled down at her, tucking an escaped curl behind her ear. ‘My heart says damn the consequences and marry the woman now. My head tells me that there are too many uncertainties for us to follow our hearts just yet. We think the same, you see. That is why I know it will work.’

‘I love you so much, Aleksei.’ She smiled up at him. ‘You know I’m not suggesting that we—that we discontinue our—our—I mean I’m not suggesting that we refrain, for a year...’

He gave a shout of laughter. ‘Miss Galbraith, are you propositioning me?’

She pursed her lips, pretending to consider this. ‘Count Derevenko, I do believe I am.’





Epilogue



St Petersburg—December 1816

Allison gazed at her reflection in the long mirror. Her hair was in one of Natalya’s deceptively simple coiffures, elegantly high on her head, with artful curls permitted to fall seemingly at random. Diamonds glittered in the myriad of hairpins—her one concession, save for the gown, to her new status.

Natalya had offered pearls as a compromise to Allison’s usual plain pins, but pearls, Seanmhair had always claimed, were for tears, if worn at a wedding. Allison was determined there would be no tears. Not even happy ones.

She touched her locket. What on earth would her grandmother make of today’s events? Ordinary is for life’s passengers, hadn’t she always said? Allison smiled to herself. She couldn’t think of anything more extraordinary than the fact that she was about to become a countess. As long as she didn’t get too big for her boots in the process, she reckoned Seanmhair would approve.

Unlike some of St Petersburg’s society. There were many who had come round to acceptance, to recognise Allison’s honorary status earned by dint of her reputation as a pioneer and crusader for the provision of medical care for ordinary Russians. The poor called her a saint. The court was cynical enough to bask in reflected glory by endorsing her. She and Aleksei had not attempted to make St Petersburg their own, but they had succeeded in making their own St Petersburg.