His Cavalry Lady. Joanna Maitland

floor. Surprisingly, she felt rather better. That tisane was working miracles. He offered an arm, but she ignored it. ‘I can manage,’ she said, putting her weight on her legs.

      He caught her just as she started to fall. ‘You are stubborn, Alexei Ivanovich.’

      She was surprised to hear him use the Russian form of address. Something else to ponder over when her brain was fit to think once more.

      ‘Curb your Russian pride for a moment, my fiery young steed, and allow me to help you up on deck. I promise I will not do more than is absolutely necessary. Your standing as a brave soldier will not be undermined in any way.’

      ‘You are more than kind, sir,’ she said, allowing him to take her weight.

      Within five minutes, they had negotiated the steep stairs and Alex was managing to support herself at last, leaning against the rail. The fresh air was indeed making her feel much better. And, in the distance, she could see land. ‘That is England, I suppose?’

      ‘Yes. The white cliffs of Dover, a beacon for returning British sailors, for centuries. It means they are home, and safe.’

      ‘I imagine it was very difficult when the rest of Europe was closed to you?’

      ‘Well…’ He smiled again. She fancied it was a rather enigmatic smile this time. ‘Mainland Europe was never really closed to the Royal Navy. We had bases all round the Mediterranean. We were not short of places to land or to resupply.’

      ‘And no doubt you could penetrate inland, too, if you wished?’

      ‘I imagine so. Not being a Navy man, I cannot be expected to have knowledge of such things.’ On a sudden, he sounded rather wary.

      ‘But you have sailed, sir. You told me that you had.’

      ‘It is true. I have. A little. Enough to know that I prefer my feet on dry land. As I fancy you do, too.’

      At that moment they were joined by the ship’s captain. ‘I am delighted to see that you are on your feet, Captain Alexandrov,’ he said, in rather hesitant French. ‘The Duke has certainly looked after you very well.’

      Oh, dear. It was true. ‘The Duke?’ she said, in her best imitation of total surprise. ‘But monsieur her best introduced himself as plain “Calder”.’

      ‘It is his way, Captain Alexandrov. He is Dominic Aikenhead, fourth Duke of Calder. I fear he has played a trick on you.’

      The Duke straightened, as if very much on his dignity, but there was a decided twinkle in his eye when he said, ‘I beg your pardon, Alexei Ivanovich. I supposed that we were going to have to work together during your Emperor’s visit. I thought too many “your Graces” might get in the way.’

      ‘Indeed, your Grace,’ Alex said, trying to prevent herself from smiling. ‘I will try not to allow too many “your Graces” to get in the way of our working relationship, your Grace. Will that suit your Grace?’

      The Duke burst out laughing. ‘Confound the boy. He gives me back my own again.’

      ‘You deserve it, too,’ said Captain Wood.

      ‘Aye. Probably.’ He turned back to Alex. ‘We can agree, I hope, that I shall be plain “Calder” to you? And that you shall be “Alexandrov” or “Alexei Ivanovich” to me. Agreed?’

      Alex felt the beginnings of warmth around her heart. ‘Agreed,’ she said.

      Chapter Three

      ‘How are you now, Alexei Ivanovich?’

      Alex was not at present on duty, and so she was standing near the front of the immense crowd, watching the proceedings. Had the Duke sought her out merely to ask after her health? Strange, if true. And yet another example of his kindness. ‘Better, thank you, Calder. Much better,’ she answered politely. ‘I find I like the steadiness of Dover very much.’

      ‘Have you eaten?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘Why not?’ he demanded sharply.

      She bristled. She was grateful to him, but he had no right to order her life. ‘On board ship, I could not, even if I would have. And now that we are on land, there has been no opportunity. I must attend on his Majesty. I cannot take time out to fill my belly, however hungry I might be.’

      Several voices hushed them angrily. The assembled dignitaries were now about to present their address, on behalf of the inhabitants of Dover.

      Alex stood motionless throughout, trying to look blank. She understood it all, of course, though it was remarkably dull and pretentious.

      The speech of welcome ended, and the Emperor stepped forward to reply. ‘Although I understand your language,’ he began, to murmurs of surprise all around, ‘I do not feel myself sufficiently acquainted with it to reply to you in English; and I must therefore request those gentlemen of the deputation who speak French to be my interpreters to those who do not.’ He then continued in French. His speech was received most warmly.

      ‘That was a considerable surprise, Alexei Ivanovich. Were you not aware of your Emperor’s talents?’

      ‘I…I have not been an aide-de-camp to his Majesty for very long, Duke. I…I have had no occasion to discover that he speaks English. How would I?’

      ‘How indeed? Do you tell me that no one in the Emperor’s suite speaks English?’

      ‘I think it was assumed that most of our hosts would speak French,’ Alex said, avoiding the question as best she could. Somehow she did not want to lie to this man. If she did, he would know it. She was sure of that.

      ‘Not everyone in England speaks French, you know, though most of the nobility does, I suppose. The royal family speaks German, so the King of Prussia and Marshal Blücher will be well served on that front. But if you, and others of the Emperor’s party, go out into London, you will not be able to make yourselves understood. That could be dangerous. Even for allies.’

      ‘Then we shall have to trust to our good-hearted liaison officer to rescue us, shall we not?’ she asked impudently.

      He gave a snort of laughter. His eyes were dancing. ‘That, Alexei Ivanovich, is the sort of reply I should have expected from one of the sharp-tongued Cyprians of London, not from a battle-hardened cavalryman such as yourself.’

      ‘Don’t worry, Calder. I may not have your language, but I do have my sabre. I fancy it will be able to rescue me. Even if you do not.’

      Major Zass, the Tsar’s principal aide-de-camp, smiled round at the group of young officers who were now assembled in the Pulteney Hotel. ‘That all went off very well,’ he said, ‘in spite of the problems on board ship.’

      Alex felt the beginnings of a blush on her neck. He meant her seasickness. If it had not been for the Duke of Calder, it would have been even worse. He had been so very kind, so very thoughtful. Almost like a brother.

      What a strange fancy to have. Was that how an elder brother would behave? She had no way of knowing. Her only brother was still a child. Yet Calder—

      Zass was allocating various duties to his officers. ‘You, Alexandrov—’ at the sound of her name, Alex’s daydream evaporated and she came smartly to attention ‘—you will attend on his Imperial Majesty when he rides out on horseback and when he makes visits to the sights of London. We will not involve you in the balls and receptions, though. We all know, don’t we, gentlemen—?’ he cast a laughing glance round at the others, who were all smiling knowingly ‘—that Captain Alexandrov is no dancer. Indeed, I’d wager that he is actually frightened of ladies.’

      Alex’s protest was drowned in the wave of laughter from her companions. There was no point in arguing. For it was true. She did avoid the company of ladies whenever she could. There was too much risk that they might see through her disguise.

      ‘More seriously,’