His Cavalry Lady. Joanna Maitland

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Название His Cavalry Lady
Автор произведения Joanna Maitland
Жанр Историческая литература
Серия
Издательство Историческая литература
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781408901014



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like a schoolboy. ‘I beg your pardon, Duke.’

      Dominic shook his head and grinned widely. The boy had much to learn.

      Alexandrov relaxed a little. ‘What I meant was that the aides-de-camp do not go everywhere with his Imperial Majesty. We each have specific duties. I, for example, attend his Majesty when he goes riding. But I am not required to attend him to balls, and such social events.’

      ‘Your are fortunate. Balls can be remarkably tedious affairs, I find.’

      The lad was blushing again. ‘I…I have not attended many balls, Calder. But I would not say that those I have attended were…er…tedious.’

      ‘Oh? How would you describe them?’

      From the look on the lad’s face, Dominic fancied the appropriate word would be ‘terrifying’. Now, why would he be afraid of such an event? Surely most young men would be delighted to be in the company of pretty young ladies?

      ‘I am afraid that I do not dance, Duke. When Mother Russia was fighting for her very survival, it would have been dishonourable for a soldier to spend time on learning such frivolous skills. Sabre-drill was much to be preferred.’ He spat out that last statement with considerable pride.

      Dominic knew better than to pursue the matter. ‘Will Major Zass go riding with you, do you think?’ Riding in the park would provide a good opportunity to make contact with the Major in an informal, friendly way. Zass might even let slip something useful.

      ‘He may do. He does ride when he can be spared. His Majesty insists that we all ride, for the benefit of our health. Exercise is most important, he maintains.’

      ‘And his Majesty is right, of course. Tell me, Alexandrov, how shall I know whether his Majesty plans to ride in the mornings? Does he decide these things the previous evening?’

      ‘I fear not.’

      ‘Ah. Then I must send a servant here each morning, to find out what his Majesty’s plans are. May I instruct the servant to ask for you?’

      Alexandrov smiled. ‘Of course. I always rise early, usually at first light.’

      Dominic allowed himself a theatrical groan. ‘You would not do that if you had been dancing till four in the morning.’

      ‘No, perhaps not. Though his Majesty does. Often.’

      ‘I must be getting old,’ Dominic said ruefully. ‘Now, I must not keep you from your duties, Alexei Ivanovich. My servant will wait on you tomorrow. Will six o’clock be early enough?’

      Alexandrov put his head on one side. ‘Well…’ he said slowly, ‘his Majesty often sets off before seven. Would six o’clock give you enough time to prepare yourself, Calder?’ He allowed his gaze to roam over Dominic’s immaculate evening clothes. ‘I have heard that London gentlemen take many hours to dress for the day. The tying of a cravat, I am told…’ He shook his head slightly.

      Dominic felt his mouth twitch. ‘That may be true of Brummell, Alexei Ivanovich, but it is not true of me,’ he said, vehemently. ‘I have not slept with my horse on the eve of battle, as you have done, but I can assure you that if my servant brings me word before half past six, I can be riding in the park by seven.’

      Alexandrov grinned mischievously. ‘Always assuming, of course, that you have not been dancing till five? I take it, Duke, that you are not going to a ball after you leave here?’

      ‘No, I am going to— I have a number of calls to make, Alexandrov. You have still to discover exactly what your monarch plans to do tomorrow. I must do the same for mine, even though my main duty is to attend on your Emperor. No doubt we will meet in the park tomorrow. I look forward to it. Meanwhile, I will bid you good night.’ He bowed to his companion and turned for the door.

      ‘Calder.’

      Dominic turned back. Alexandrov was smiling at him, looking very small and trim in the huge foyer of the hotel. The picture of a boy soldier. Except that he was not a boy.

      ‘You did not give me a chance to thank you for your hospitality this evening. And for your help with the crowd. Thank you.’ He bowed formally.

      ‘My pleasure, Captain. And my brothers’. By the way, don’t believe everything they tell you. I am not nearly as bad as they paint me.’

      Alexandrov merely bowed again and turned towards the stairs.

      Smiling to himself, Dominic left the hotel and walked into Piccadilly. He was an interesting young man, Captain Alexandrov. And an entertaining companion, especially when he gave his wit free rein. It would be a pleasure to cultivate him further, Dominic thought warmly. Then icy duty intruded, spoiling his sunny mood. Alexandrov would have to be used, to provide an entrée to Major Zass and possibly to others of the Emperor’s court. And Dominic must say as much to Castlereagh, who would now be waiting impatiently for his report.

      Tomorrow, in the park, Dominic would hope to further his acquaintance with Major Zass. And to judge just how well young Alexandrov sat a horse.

      Alex managed to run nonchalantly up the stairs and round the first landing. Once she was out of sight of the foyer, she stopped, gripping the baluster rail tightly for support. Her free hand was shaking.

      On the landing above, a burst of laughter forced her back to the present. Her brother officers had obviously been enjoying an evening off duty. One of them might spot her at any moment. She forced herself to straighten her back and march up the stairs, with her normal jaunty gait. No one must see any difference in Captain Alexandrov’s demeanour.

      Almost all of the Tsar’s suite was in the reception room on the first floor. Some of them had clearly been indulging very freely in their Emperor’s hospitality. A couple were stretched out on the sofas, snoring loudly.

      ‘Alexei Ivanovich, where have you been?’ cried one, lurching towards Alex as if to fling an arm round her shoulder.

      She sidestepped neatly. ‘Where is Major Zass? He is expecting my report.’

      ‘Wha’ report?’

      Her thoughtless words had penetrated the drunken fog in the man’s brain. What report, indeed! She had been tasked by the Major in private and now, stupidly, she was talking about her mission in the midst of her drunken comrades.

      Concentrate, Alex! What has happened to you? You are not usually so unaware. You have plenty of experience of dealing with men such as these.

      But not with men such as the Duke of Calder, said a little voice from somewhere in the recesses of her mind. Calder had upset all her equilibrium. The moment he touched her, she had—

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