Winter Rose

Previously..

"So, Lidia, I see you have found your way here without assistance."

It was a point of pride to Violet that she did not gasp.

She turned around and lifted her head, ready to meet the accusations in Igor's black-eyed gaze.

Only to find that for the first time since they met, he was not looking at her.

Instead, Prince Igor Kuragin's eyes lanced across the flushing face of Nicholas Sumarkov. His lips tightened and the skin pulled tight across his cheekbones.

"But not unaccompanied."

His voice chilled the air with disapproval. Count Nicholas swallowed hard. Violet bit her lip.

It seemed Lidia's easy-going companion was about to prove very intractable indeed.

State Hermitage Museum

"Igor!"

Lidia's voice could have shattered glass with its forced cheerfulness. She laid her hand up on her heart. "You startled us."

"I have no doubt I did." Igor's voice was smooth but his dark brows gathered together. His gaze dropped to Lidia's gloved hand laid on the black broadcloth of Count Nicholas's arm, like diamond on velvet. "I am… surprised myself."

Count Nicholas dropped his arm instantly, leaving Lidia's hand floating in mid-air. He shuffled his heels together in a half-hearted click. "Excellence - ah, forgive-"

"To translate English, I think, was the reason Lady Grantham gave for your presence here, Sumarokov?"

The look Igor gave her made Violet's brows draw together and sent her own temper sparking. Lidia, in contrast, seemed cast from her previous confidence to the position of a child. She bowed her head, as though ready to receive a scolding from an older brother.

Count Nicholas was not much better. The sudden frosty reception from a man known for his influence in Court and the city disconcerted the young man completely. "Milles- a thousand pardons, Excellency. Yes, of a certainty."

"Then since I speak English as well, your presence is no longer required?"

"I-"

"I would have to disagree, Prince Kuragin."

Lidia let out a gasp. But Violet ignored her. Squaring her shoulders, she folded her lips in a firm line and met Igor's eyes.

The frown had not lifted from between his eyes even as he made the obligatory bow of greeting. "Lady Grantham. We do not speak for so long, I thought you had forgotten my existence."

It was easy to construe those words as a joke, just a light conversation as anyone would say in polite company. Very easy. And very wrong.

Violet kept her face serene. It would never do for Lidia or Sumarokov to guess at the by-play beneath their words. "I forget very little, Prince Kuragin. Including the fact that we are in a public hall with much Of St Petersburg's bourgeoisie observing us?"

Her words made Sumarkov start and Lidia's head to droop a little lower. If she hoped they had the arresting same effect on Igor, Violet was disappointed.

Not a muscle changed in the hard face turned towards her. Only the flick of his eyes at the burghers and plump matrons around them suggested that Igor had any idea of where they were standing.

"A good chaperone," Violet pressed on. "Would never hope to embarrass their charge by forcing her companion to depart like a dismissed servant?"

"Of course." Igor's voice was silky and beneath the silk, hard. "Lady Grantham is always aware of the proprieties."

For a moment there was silence. The chatter of the merchants faded, the clicks of heeled shoes on tiles dulled to a thump.

Why was it, in this moment, all good sense flew away and all Violet could remember was another room, just as quiet, a thousand times more private when their eyes had met in just such a fashion? When they had spoken frankly, honesty fuelled by anger just as now anger fuelled the deceit between them?

Was everything she touched destined to go sour?

Not this. She could not explain why but suddenly, desperately, against all good sense, Violet wanted to keep this clean.

How to explain it? A sane woman would keep Igor at an arm's length. He knew too much of her already, her marriage and herself, and she had only seen his outer facade. It was madness. A mad discovery and all in the middle of a public museum.

But reason was cold and Violet was tired of cold anger and cold politeness that led only to the same scenario, again and again. Perhaps she was ready for a little madness.

"Your highness told me once that you dislike paragons." Violet lifted her hand and held it out, the palm upwards. "Surely you will not now take such a hard line yourself?"

Surprise loosened the hard line of Igor's lips. The gathered brows loosened, like a storm dissipating. It was only a momentary dip before he narrowed his eyes and nodded.

"As so many have said, Lady Grantham has a sharp wit." He nodded once, a sharp jerk of his head. "Very well."

Count Nicholas, so busy frowning over the conversation, did not respond immediately. A sharp elbow in the ribs brought him to his senses. His eyes widened. "Your highness does permit?"

"At Lady Grantham's request." When Sumarokov did nothing but gape in surprise at the sudden turnaround, Igor shook his head. "Boch ti moy, Sumarokov, don't stand there, drawing the attention of the room!"

He sounded so like an exasperated father lecturing a dim son, it startled a smile from Violet.

Count Nicholas took no second hesitation. Offering a bow to Lidia, he held out his arm. She had no such scruples. With a flash of delight, she latched onto Count Nicholas as though afraid Igor would tear the young man physically away. Tucking a loose curl back into her bonnet, Lidia quickly led Count Nicholas towards the first exhibit, not daring to glance back at Igor once.

"Lady Grantham?"

"Prince Kuragin."

It was so easy to place her hand on his arm. A single touch, of palm and fingertips. How was it that now, it felt as intimate to stand so close, to smell again his cologne and pick out with her eyes even the wrinkles on his cravat, as it did to feel his body against her in every line and curve?

Madness. Hot and unreasonable madness.

"Thank you."

It was an inadequate response.

"Because I fell in with your scheme, Violet?" His voice was low. That, coupled with their conversation in English, was enough to ensure privacy. "You chose your place well. How could I refuse without embarrassing Lidia and myself?"

The sudden coolness stilled Violet's thoughts. She stiffened. "So now it is you who wish to quarrel, Igor."

"Strange." They paused in front of a bust of Cicero. The long-nosed orator stared scornfully back. Lidia and Sumarokov were a few paces ahead. "For days I hear nothing and yet now you say my name so casually."

"I have been busy."

"As I see. Planning deceptions and assignations."

"What a change of attitude!" His sudden retreat to disapproval stung. Their roles seemed abruptly reversed. "Are you now the hypocrite?"

"Hypocrite?"

The word was loud enough to draw the attention of the couple beside them. Confused frowns were darted at Violet and Igor before the bourgeois couple moved on, unwilling to be caught up in the aristocratic games. Violet bit her lip and tightened her fingers on Igor's arm.

"Hypocrite?" He lowered his voice but the glare turned in her direction assured Violet that Igor was far from his normal careless pleasure. "You presume too much on our friendship, Lady Grantham."

"Friendship?" Is that what you call it? Was he deliberately provoking her? Was this a game to him?

One glance up through her eyelashes told Violet that whatever Igor had in mind, this was not a game.

Now, what was she to think? From sudden heat to sudden frost in a few days?

"I did not know that Lidia would invite you to act as chaperone."

"Really? From my understanding, you planned this entire event." With every appearance of calm, they moved on to the next statue, a marble likeness of Diana, goddess of the hunt. Violet didn't see a single smooth curve. "Scandal is something only reserved for other people, is that so?"

"I don't understand."

"You encourage Lidia to risk her own reputation in this stupid prank, while you remain unscathed?"

"That is unfair!"

Now it was her voice that drew attention and worried glances from Lidia and Count Nicholas. Violet forced herself to smile. Igor's frown ruined the effect. Soon the entire gallery would know that they were quarrelling.

"Is it? Her father, my friend and neighbour, has expressly forbidden her to speak with Kolya Sumarokov. He has broken his friendship of many years standing with Princess Nasthya because of her collusion in this. Yet still, you encourage her to deceive him?"

"Against a foolish edict, born from prejudice?"

"Against her parent's wishes."

"Parents do not always know what is best for their children." Violet snapped back, Igor's pompous statement rousing her temper. "Particularly in marriage."

As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew she had exposed herself. That was her reason. It had been her reason all along. She had not recognised it. Perhaps, she would never have realised it if Igor had not confronted her so publicly.

Lidia reminded her of her sister. The two girls were of the same age, with the same delicate air and the same whole-hearted belief the world was theirs to achieve. They still harboured illusions that marriage was something to cherish and love - whatever that was - was within their grasp. A delicate belief, as easy to crush as a daisy.

It was to keep that belief alive that Violet had pleaded so hard to remain in London for Dolly's first Season. She could not stand by and see her sister traded to a man who did not care for her simply to improve their family's position in Society. She could not bear to see her sister's illusions shattered the way hers had been shattered in the cool bargaining of the Marriage Mart.

Fate had conspired against her in that. She was here and Dolly had to endure Lady Harriet Steyne's plans without her sister's protection. So it was to Lidia that Violet transferred her protection and her hopes. To keep that hope for a happy marriage alive. That was why she had agreed.

The gold band on her left ring finger seemed to tighten a little. Violet dropped her hand from Igor's arm and her gaze from his. She turned the ring this way and that, as though to ease the restrictions it placed upon her.

A warm hand in the small of her back startled her into lifting her head again.

"What has happened, solnyshka?"

Igor's voice was soft. The hard anger of second before was quieter now, simmering in the depths of his eyes. His hand cupped her elbow and tightened on it, as though afraid she would wrench herself from his grip and storm away.

The Countess of Grantham would never dream of such a scene. But Violet found herself losing sight of that woman more and more the longer she spent with Igor.

"We should move on." There were people watching them. They had spent too long at the statue of Diana.

"Ignore them."

It was so like him to say that. Violet choked back a laugh. It would not do. There was too much hysteria in it. "Don't be foolish."

"Then come." They moved away from the statue. In only a few paces, they had reached the double doors, leading from the Knight's Hall to the outer galleries. Fewer people strayed here, amongst the Flemish landscapes and portraits of fruits. "We may speak better here."

"Lidia…"

"Is perfectly safe. The Count may be a Sumarokov but I doubt he is bold enough to commit any impropriety in a public gallery." He shook his head. "In that, your choice was impeccable, Violet."

"It was Katya who suggested it."

"I am not surprised." His voice turned dry. Violet let out a watery chuckle. He had not removed his hand from the small of her back. She should protest it but found she didn't want to. It was comforting, a strange sensation to have with a man so determined to pursue her.

There was a bench in the centre of the gallery, made for visiting artists to sit and sketch the masterpieces around them. Igor guided her there and there they sat. Opposite ends. He did not sprawl, as he did when she first met him. His back was straight and his legs did not fling out to tangle with the mess of skirts and petticoats that made up her dress. The thought crossed Violet's mind that it had been ten years earlier, any onlooker would presume they were the courting couple, not Lidia and Nicholas Sumarokov.

"So." His hand was on the cushion and inches from her own. "Once again you have a fit of the vapours."

"You will have everyone think I am a very weak person."

"I doubt that. What has happened, Violet?"

"Why do you have to ask?" It came again, the flash of bitterness that had plagued her since Patrick's deception. "You foresaw everything."

Igor paused. He tried to hide it but the instant he understood, Violet could see it. "I am glad."

"Glad?"

She made to stand up. Igor's hand shot out and gripped her wrist. "Yes. I am glad. Now you know he is a fool and you have no reason for your loyalty."

"And fall into your arms?"

"That is not what I meant."

"Wasn't it?"

"I have promised you already, Violet. I will not-"

"Kiss me again until I kiss you. I recall!"

A faint smile touched his face. Why he should smile, Violet could not tell, unless it was the perverse pleasure he seemed to take in her anger.

Remembering what had happened last time they had sparred so, Violet lowered her voice and resumed her seat. "Igor, I don't wish to argue."

"A pity."

She had been right. Violet turned her head away and frowned at the bowl of pears in a chairoscuro landscape across the way.

"Will you tell Count Niemov about Lidia's meeting?" She demanded abruptly.

"Count Niemov is an old friend of my family. I have known Lidia since she was a baby."

"So you shall tell him."

He did not disagree. "I do not want to see her hurt. And I know Ivan Niemov has a cousin in Odessa with a widowed son."

"So the match is already arranged!"

"It is understood."

"And that is good enough for society."

It was like a trap, an unending circle. She was being foolish in the extreme to care so much about a girl she scarcely knew. Still, in that moment, Violet had never felt so desperate to take the entire structure that made up her ordered, admired life, and set a match to ignite and burn it from the top down.

"Does her father care nothing for her feelings? Lidia's own wishes? Or does he believe the heart is just an organ, good for pumping blood and nothing more?"

"Did nobody care for yours?"

"Don't!"

He did not let go. The grip on her hand tightened. He tugged and Violet looked back. There was a heaviness in her throat and her eyes prickled as though she had not slept for days. Every movement of her head made her neck ache and looking to Igor, she longed to lay her head on his shoulder, the way she would with her father as a child when the world seemed to big and unfair for a young girl.

His hand lifted, reaching towards her cheek. His eyes studied her, so carefully, she couldn't read his thoughts. For a moment, it was as though he would kiss her, despite his promises. For a moment, that was all Violet wanted.

This time she did not want to say no.

"Lidia deserves the choice." She spoke to fill the silence. "At least until Count Nicholas has the courage to speak to Count Niemov himself."

"And he will?" Igor's voice was sceptical. He had seen Count Nicholas's courage for himself.

"He loves her."

"And that is enough? To defy his family and hers?"

"You make it sound like a death sentence."

"Or madness, solnyshka." Igor replied softly. "Utter madness."

Hello! I hope you enjoyed this new chapter - I'm sorry it's been another long stretch since an update (but not so long this time haha!) Thank you for all your reviews on the last chapter!

So Igor and Violet seem to have settled into a state of stalemate at the moment. It might seem a bit surprising that Violet has more faith in love and its existence than Igor (or at least a better opinion of it!) but this is Violet - to quote Spratt (once again) she never likes to do what people expect 😜

Again, thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it and thank you, thank you, thank for all the kind reviews! 😆😊