His Cavalry Lady

Alexandrov grinned his response.

The lad responded very well to being roasted. No doubt he was used to it. Yet he had begun to look a little nervous now, probably at the prospect of apologising to the Regent in person. Dominic suddenly felt ashamed of himself for tricking the lad into believing he must do so. That had never been his intention. Was he seeking revenge for the fact that Alexandrov’s voice disturbed him still? Unworthy, if so. It was not Alexandrov’s fault that Dominic’s mind was playing tricks on him.

The stable gates were closed and manned by soldiers. ‘Let us in,’ Dominic ordered. ‘I am the Duke of Calder and this officer is on the staff of his Majesty the Russian Emperor.’

‘Daren’t do it, sir. Er…your Grace.’

‘Nonsense. Open up at once.’

The soldier stood stiffly to attention. He made no move to obey Dominic. ‘We’ve only just managed to get these gates closed, sir. We opened them for Marshal Blücher’s carriage and were almost crushed by the people flooding in around him. There are still hundreds of them inside the house. You’ll have to go in by the main gate. Sorry, sir.’

‘Fetch your officer.’

It did not take Dominic long to convince the young lieutenant that he ought to be able to open the stable gates just enough to admit two gentlemen. And that, if he was any kind of officer at all, he should be able to ensure that none of the milling crowd could force a way through.

Within minutes, Dominic was leading the way into Carlton House. They arrived in the grand hall just in time to see the Prince Regent and Marshal Blücher emerge from the Regent’s private apartments. The crowd cheered ecstatically. For Blücher, of course. But the Prince had not lost his sense of theatre. In the midst of the huge throng, he invited Blücher to kneel so that he could fasten a medallion on the old man’s shoulder. Dominic fancied that the portrait on the medallion was of the Regent himself. That was very much his way. The Marshal, however, seemed to be overcome by the honour. As he rose, he kissed the Regent’s hand.

‘Wait here,’ Dominic shouted into Alexandrov’s ear. ‘I’ll go and make sure the Regent’s aides know about the Emperor’s change of plans.’

‘But if I am to apologize—’

‘You are not,’ Dominic said firmly, glad to be able to clear his conscience at last. ‘I’ll say all that is necessary on your behalf.’

‘But you cannot—’

Dominic did not wait to listen to the young man’s protests. All he wanted now was to pass his message and then to escape from this infernal circus. Prinny might delight in it all. But for ordinary mortals, the next few weeks were going to be a continuing trial.

Chapter Four

Dominic ushered Alexandrov through the front door into the sudden quiet of the spacious hallway. Withering, the Aikenhead family butler, bowed as he took their hats. ‘Lord Leo has just this minute arrived, your Grace. I believe he is in the library.’

‘Excellent. Thank you, Withering.’ Then, reverting to French, ‘Come and meet my brother, Alexei Ivanovich. Must say I wasn’t expecting him.’

‘Perhaps he could not resist all the London festivities, Duke?’

‘I take leave to doubt that. But you shall judge for yourself. Come.’ Almost as an afterthought, Dominic said, ‘Send in some of the best Madeira, would you, Withering?’

‘It is already done, your Grace. Lord Leo—’

Dominic laughed. ‘I should have known. My brother makes free with my cellar whenever he favours me with his company.’

As Withering flung open the double doors to Dominic’s library, the solitary figure in the room rose from the leather armchair and strode towards them, grinning widely. ‘Dominic! Hadn’t thought to see you tonight, old man. Assumed the Regent would have you running round in circles until dawn.’

‘In other words, you thought you’d have hours yet to make free with my Madeira,’ Dominic retorted, trying not to show just how pleased he was to see his brother.

‘But of course,’ Leo said smoothly, throwing a questioning glance towards Dominic’s companion.

‘Forgive me, Alexandrov,’ Dominic said quickly, reverting to French. ‘That was bad manners on my part. You will allow me to present my brother, Lord Leo Aikenhead? Leo, this is Captain Alexei Ivanovich Alexandrov, one of the aides-de-camp to his Majesty the Emperor Alexander.’

The two men bowed to each other and exchanged courtesies.

‘Surprising that you are both off duty so early,’ Leo said in his accentless French. ‘Or are you?’

‘Yes. Until tomorrow morning. Is that not so, Alexei Ivanovich?’

‘His Imperial Majesty has no further need of me this evening. He dines with the Grand Duchess. However, if he rides out before breakfast, as he usually does, I shall be on duty then.’

‘No hard drinking for you tonight, then, Captain? What a pity. Thought to introduce you to some of Dominic’s better bottles.’

‘I—’

‘I must ask you to forgive my brother, Alexei Ivanovich,’ Dominic said quickly. ‘He is incorrigible. And in spite of his efforts to paint himself as a drunken sot, I can assure you that he is only trying to humbug you. And me.’

The young Russian smiled first at Dominic and then at Leo. ‘Believe me, I have had much worse from my compatriots. But I should perhaps warn you that I very rarely drink.’

Leo’s eyes widened, but he was too polite to make any comment. Dominic, by contrast, was not at all surprised. It was such a pity that they were, so to speak, on opposite sides, for Alexei Ivanovich was a remarkable and admirable young soldier, the kind whom Dominic would have been happy to call his friend. Alexandrov had an inner core of steel. In the space of only a day or so, Dominic had learned that he was not the sort of man who would conform where it did not suit him. And that he was definitely a man who should not be underestimated.

Alex put down her half-empty glass. Her invariable rule was to permit herself no more than one glass of wine, and always with food. On this occasion, she had been very tempted to break her rule for the Duke’s splendid wine. But she did not dare. Not with gentlemen as astute as the Duke and his brother.

The Duke tried again. ‘Will you have a little more wine, Alexei Ivanovich?’

Alex shook her head, smiling across at him. ‘No, Calder, I thank you. Your wine is truly excellent, but I never have more than one glass.’

‘Haven’t even had that,’ Lord Leo interposed, gazing pointedly at her glass. ‘If I were a betting man, I’d be tempted to wager that you don’t really like wine at all. Am I right, sir?’

‘I—’

‘Don’t bother to reply, Alexandrov,’ the Duke said quickly. ‘My brother has a disreputable habit of trying to provoke others, even when they are our guests. I have spent years trying to cure him of it.’ He sighed theatrically. ‘I’m afraid I have failed.’

‘Not true, brother mine. Never provoke my guests. Only yours.’

Alex, astonished, looked from one to the other. The Duke was trying, unsuccessfully, not to laugh at his brother’s wicked comment. Lord Leo had an expression that was…almost angelic. Angel laced with grinning devil. Was this what it was to be brothers, and to be truly close? It seemed more than wonderful. With no sisters, and only one, much younger, half-brother, Alex had never experienced anything like this. What’s more, as a mere female, she had been expected to spend all her time acquiring domestic skills. Even if she had had sisters, she doubted that her stepmother would have permitted anything bordering on frivolity. A girl’s role was to learn what she needed in order to be a good daughter first, and then a good wife to a man chosen by her parents. Duty was everything. Enjoyment, and laughter, had no place at all.

As she stared, wide-eyed, at the Aikenhead brothers, she was visited by a subversive thought. If her own Scottish mother had brought her back here, would her life have been totally different? Would she have been happy to have remained in the role of a girl? Her restlessness had been largely her father’s fault, of course, for he had brought her up in a military environment while he himself was serving in the Hussars. She had absorbed the life through every single pore of her body until she had been living it every minute of every day. She had ridden like a Hussar, eaten like a Hussar, thought like a Hussar. It had become the life she loved and the life she wanted. So, when her father had left the army in favour of a civil post, it had been as if Alex were cast into prison. Particularly so when her father had married again, to a shrewish woman who believed that the role of an unmarried girl was silence and sewing. And to be addressed, formally, as ‘Alexandra’, rather than the familiar Scottish ‘Alex’ that had always seemed so loving.

The butler returned to clear the plates. ‘Lord Jack has just this minute arrived, your Grace,’ he said quietly.

Calder raised an eyebrow. ‘Strange. The wine is in here and Lord Jack is not. You must have seen an apparition, Withering.’

Alex looked down at the table and pursed her lips hard, trying to conceal her amusement. Calder must not suspect that she had misled him about her knowledge of English. Oh, this was becoming so very difficult.

‘Lord Jack,’ Withering said in a lofty tone, ‘was informed that your Grace had a foreign guest at the supper table. He therefore repaired to the library.’

‘And my Madeira,’ laughed Calder, slapping the table with his hand. ‘Not an apparition then. Tell my brother, if you please, that we shall join him shortly.’

The butler bowed and withdrew.

Calder then explained, in French, that his youngest brother had just arrived. ‘I should warn you, Alexei Ivanovich, that Jack is something of a scapegrace. In fact, he’s even worse than brother Leo.’