Joanna Maitland – His Cavalry Lady (страница 11)

‘His Majesty arrived only today, Lord Leo. So far, I have seen the inside of the Pulteney Hotel, the inside of your brother’s carriage, though not for long, since it proceeded at a pace resembling a one-legged snail, and—’

‘Do snails have legs in your country, Captain?’ Jack had adopted that high-handed tone which meant he was bent on mischief. ‘In this country, they seem to have lost their legs, somewhere along the way.’

‘I meant…I meant…’

Good grief, the young man was blushing. Well, well, well. He really was just like the Dowager. Not so manly after all, perhaps? No wonder he was avoiding alcohol, if it was so easy to put him out of countenance. It could be useful to know that.

‘It is…it is a…a family joke, which does not translate well. I meant only that Calder’s carriage was unable to proceed. And so we had to walk to Carlton House,’ Alexandrov continued, more fluently than before. ‘It is very grand inside.’

‘Far too much gilding for my taste,’ Jack muttered.

‘You must excuse my brother,’ Dominic said quickly. ‘His taste tends towards the furnishings of gambling dens and the like. We don’t often let him into polite company. In fact, we’ve been telling the world that he’s not our brother at all, but a changeling.’

Jack gasped and started to rise from his chair.

‘Unfortunately,’ Dominic continued calmly, ‘he looks so much like me that no one will believe us.’

Alexandrov nodded, rather pensively. ‘Perhaps you are both changelings, Duke,’ he said with an air of studied innocence. ‘Perhaps the true heir is Lord Leo, who looks nothing like either of you?’

Jack burst out laughing.

Beside him, Leo was grinning, too. ‘Seems to me that our Russian guest can give as good as he gets. I’d watch your tongue if I were you, Dominic.’

‘I shall clearly have to. I fancy that Captain Alexandrov must spend a lot of time being roasted by his fellow officers and sharpening his wit on them. Is that the way of it, Alexei Ivanovich?’

‘I find it does not do, Duke, to accept jibes meekly. The occasional riposte reminds my comrades that my role is not solely to provide sport for them.’

‘How true,’ Dominic said thoughtfully. He waited a moment more before striking. ‘And what, would you say, is your role, exactly?’

There was a decided pause before the Russian spoke again. ‘I…why, I am a captain in the Mariupol Hussars and have been honoured with the appointment as an aide-de-camp to his Imperial Majesty. You are already aware of that, I think.’

Dominic nodded slowly. ‘Just idle thoughts that came to me.’ He picked up his glass and took a long swallow. ‘It seemed to me that his Imperial Majesty already has a great many young officers in his suite. I simply wondered why you had been added to their number.’

‘Oh, that is easily explained, Duke,’ Alexandrov replied smoothly. He was fully in control now. ‘His Majesty had not seen me for some years, since he did me the honour—’ He reddened slightly and touched the Cross of St George on his breast. ‘His Majesty was gracious enough to wonder about my progress. Court Minister Volkonsky suggested that I might be attached to the staff for the duration of this visit.’

Now that, Dominic thought, was a well-rehearsed line, but he doubted that it was the whole truth. What kind of monarch remembered to check up on the progress of one young officer among so many? Especially one not seen for years? The fact that Alexandrov had a ready tale suggested that he had something to hide.

Dominic leant forward. ‘When did you—?’

The door opened again to admit the butler. Dominic raised his head, frowning. This was just the wrong moment for an interruption.

‘Excuse me, your Grace, but a messenger has this moment arrived. I understand it is a matter of some urgency. Will you see him?’

Dominic rose. Withering had given no indication of who the messenger was. Which meant that the man was possibly from Horse Guards. Or from the Foreign Secretary himself.

‘Thank you, Withering. I will come at once. No doubt it is yet another concern of the Regent’s. Possibly about the colour of his coat.’

The moment the door closed behind the Duke, Lord Jack launched into a stream of questions about Alex’s home and her family. She answered as best she could, trying to betray as little information as possible, but still she found herself saying more about her parents and her home than she had intended.

The two brothers had just begun a lively discussion on the dangerous topic of boxing when the Duke returned. He was looking grave, but his face softened at the sight of his brothers. ‘Arguing again? And in front of our guest, too.’ He shook his head. ‘I thought you had better manners, Jack.’

‘I’ll have you know, Dominic—’

‘Excuse him, if you would, Captain Alexandrov. He has always been an unruly brat and, unfortunately, Leo has never yet learned to keep him under control. He spoils him, you see.’

‘If you weren’t my brother, Dominic, I’d call you out for that!’ Lord Jack had jumped to his feet, fists clenched.

‘After that comment, I’m first in the queue,’ Lord Leo growled.

The Duke grinned. ‘I wouldn’t dare take you on, Leo. Even if I had choice of weapons, you’d best me every time. Jack, on the other hand… Well, Jack is improving with his fists, at least.’ He strolled forward to the table, lifted his wine glass and sipped. ‘And now, if you will allow me, Alexandrov, I will escort you back to the Pulteney.’

‘There is no need, Calder. I can certainly make my own way back.’

The Duke snorted. ‘This, from a pint-sized sabre-carrier who speaks not a word of English? No, my friend, the Regent has charged me to offer all assistance to the Emperor’s suite. I should be failing in my duty if I allowed you to be trampled underfoot.’

It would be most impolite to argue further. Besides, the Duke probably had business to discharge. Business resulting from that urgent message. She must do what she could to find out about that. Major Zass would be expecting her report on the Duke. ‘You are very good, Duke. And I willingly accept your company, if it is not an inconvenience. If you are required at Horse Guards, I could easily take a hackney back to the Pulteney.’

The Duke’s mouth twitched. ‘You might take one, but I doubt it would get you there. There are still crowds of people in the streets.’ He turned for the door. ‘Now, if you are ready, Alexei Ivanovich…?’

Alex felt a sudden glow. It must be his continued use of the Russian form of address, she decided. Familiar. Friendly. It could not be the Duke himself, for he was a daunting figure, one to beware of.

But then, as he ushered Alex out into the hall, he dropped an arm across her shoulders, in a brotherly fashion. Her heart stopped dead. Her insides plummeted down to her boots. Suddenly, she felt quite light-headed, as if she had drunk far too many glasses of champagne.

How could she think that, she who had never drunk more than one glass in her life? What on earth was happening to her?

Chapter Five

Late though it was, the streets were still packed with people. They seemed to be generally good humoured, but there was no mistaking the pervasive smell of gin. Looking over his shoulder as they pushed their way through towards the Pulteney, Dominic realised that young Alexandrov looked incredibly small and vulnerable. That sabre of his—which had no doubt tasted blood in battle—would be no help here in London.

‘Oi! Who d’ye think ye’re pushin’?’ A couple of feet behind Dominic, a man with arms like prize hams had turned a furious face on Alexandrov. The ruffian was at least three parts drunk and seemed to be spoiling for a fight. He raised a huge fist to strike the Russian.

Alexandrov’s hand went to his sabre-hilt and began to draw, just as Dominic moved to put himself between them. ‘Sheath it,’ Dominic cried, keeping his eyes fixed on the drunk. If he had to, Dominic could easily knock the man down, but that would be almost as risky as Alexandrov’s damned sabre. A fist fight could quickly turn into a street brawl and then a full-scale riot. ‘This is one of the Russian Emperor’s officers.’ Dominic was almost shouting to make himself heard. ‘We’re here to cheer the Russians, aren’t we?’

The drunk was beginning to look confused. His clenched fist had slackened a little. Around him, the crowd was muttering. One or two were trying to pull the drunk away.

‘Three cheers for the Emperor Alexander,’ Dominic cried. To his relief, at least a dozen voices responded. By the third cheer, it was probably fifty. And the drunk was cheering, too. His furious face now wore a beatific smile.

Dominic breathed a sigh of relief and pushed on through the crowd until they were out of danger in a fairly quiet side street. He had to warn Alexandrov about the risks he was taking. The young fire-eater would not always have Dominic at his side to calm the mob. ‘May I suggest, Alexei Ivanovich, that you would be unwise to brave the London streets alone?’

The young man bristled visibly and started to protest.

‘I intend no slur on your honour,’ Dominic said quickly, putting a hand on Alexandrov’s shoulder and gripping it lightly. He might need protection, but he was much too proud to admit it. ‘Your bravery is beyond question. I meant only that, with the London mob, it is remarkably easy to provoke a riot.’