Once Upon a December
Chapter 2
The afternoon was kind today. The sun lit up Violet's well furnished drawing room and fell over her face, as she was finishing today's letters, before she had to go up to the house for lunch. She knew the question of the nature of her relationship with the Russian prince would arise, and she prepared herself mentally. She knew she would probably have to confess some of the truth to Isobel, as she in all likelihood would find out anyway, but she fully intended to keep quiet about it to the family. Her position in the family was simply too important.
When Isobel came in the car to fetch her, she was completely ready for any question or implying remark. If there was one thing she was good at, it was to keep a straight face and a convincing attitude. Surprisingly enough Isobel didn't mention anything about it, until Violet brought it up in the car. "Would you join me in York later this afternoon? To go see the Russians?" Isobel looked at her surprised, not annoyingly so, but genuinely interested. "I will if you want me to. Why particularly?" Violet kept her eyes out the window as they arrived at the famous driveway; "We'll talk about it later".
Lunch was as excepted. Robert, of course, had to bring it up. "How is your old beau, Mama?" She could have knocked him off his chair, but chose to laugh it off. Another one of her famous knacks.
"Your father would have turned out any one who ever said such a thing!". Indeed he would, she thought. If there was one thing Patrick couldn't cope with, it was vulgar or improper suggestions, especially about his wife. It was a quality that had both left her feeling slightly frightened and wonderfully proud in the past. The rest of lunch seemed endless as, even if she would never admit this to anyone, she was rather anxious about seeing Kuragin again.
Isobel could of course not keep her curiosity at bay, as they were making their way to the church in York. "Why didn't you tell them we were coming here today? They'll know anyway once Rose gets back", "I didn't want it to be a topic for the rest of luncheon!" Violet answered sharply. The crypt was dark and damp and Violet felt a pang of sympathy as she saw how these once nobel folk, were huddled into spaces smaller than.. well she hardly knew what to think. Rose greeted them, but she hardly saw her. Her eyes were scanning the room, and it didn't take long for her to locate him. Her heart sank. The last time she had come to see him, his toned face was lit by the light of crystal chandeliers and he was surrounded by glorious pictures in golden frames. Now here he was, in a damp crypt of a local church, with nothing but the donated clothes he stood in and the small trace of royal dignity that somehow showed in the way he held his posture. "There he is" Violet was primarily speaking to herself, as she hardly believed what she was seeing, and she held her breath as he extended his arm to her. He took her hand. The hand she hadn't touched in 50 years. The last time she had, it had been in goodbye. Goodbye for ever, or so she had thought. "I must be the last person you expected to see" she said. "No, I thought you would come" His voice was still as dark and creamy as it had been those many years ago. Violet didn't know how to interpret that sentence. He had known? Surely he couldn't have. Things had changed. They hadn't seen or been in contact with each other for a lifetime, how could he be sure she had even the slightest concern for him now? But his eyes and the way they looked at her hadn't changed in those years. It had been long, yes, and yet a part of her felt it odd, only to greet him in a handshake, when she thought of how they last had greeted each other. Violet shook her head of any of those thoughts. She had come to kill her curiosity and perhaps even to clear her conscience. She had to know what he had meant, when he said he didn't know the whereabouts of the princess. Her memories of her were not the fondest, of course, but the thought of her being killed or savaged somewhere, were still not a thought she could quite live with. After all, to ask about her, was the least she could do. He looked at her, with a mix of amusement and pain as they talked about his wife. He knew exactly what she was thinking, and her reasons for asking, and he couldn't help adore her for it. Heaven knows, he had never been in love with Irina, but he did love her, and he loved that Violet knew that, and took it in account.
Back at the house, Violet had finally let Isobel in on some of the truth. She had told her that he had wanted her to run away with him, and how she had finally seen sense when Patrick had given her the Faberge frame with the pictures of the children in it. But she hadn't told her the full story. She didn't find it necessary, and quite honestly she didn't think Isobel would understand. No, she didn't tell her that she was only inches away from creating the biggest scandal of the century.
The night fell slowly, and all Violet could think of as she sat by the fire, was how the glow of his eyes had quite gone out down in that horrid crypt. "Where is the handsome and powerful Prince Kuragin? With his thousands of archers and his golden palaces? That man does not exist. Not anymore." The archers and palaces might have gone she thought, but the man did exist. Very much so. The way he made her feel, that hadn't changes. And he was still powerful, for he still had the same power over her, as he had those many years ago.
… "So you've decided than?" His voice was filled with anxiety and hope, and even if her whole body was shaking with nerves, she couldn't hide the fact, that she had never been more happy or sure of anything in her life. "I have" she said, smiling at him. His embrace was rough and passionate, and quite different than any embrace she had ever been in before. It was his way, and it was dangerous and exciting. She found that she forgot everything and everybody when he held her like this. To lift her up off of her feet, to carry her was no trouble at all for him. Even considering her bustle and layers of skirts. He did it with such ease and elegance, she felt as light as a feather. She has gotten used to room by now. The golden colours of the walls and the way they sparkled in the light of the grand fireplace. The position of the big bed in the centre of the room, and the way it was always messy. It all smelled like him, and reminded her of the love that had been made in here, for almost two months now. As he guided them nearer the bed, his bearded jaw was at the nape of her neck, and his lips left sweet traces down her collar. Her response was sweet and entrancing, and it made his movements hasten. "My darling.." he moaned into her skin, and as he laid her on the majestic bed, his arm went down in search of the rim of her skirts. He moved like lightning, and Violet could hardly finish a thought, before his hand and fingers were tracing up her inner thigh. Violet gasped in surprise, as his hand reached her most delicate spot. Never had she felt like this before. This had to be the meaning of life, she thought as she leaned back, and let him guide her to the point of pleasure, only he could give her. Violet had never been the type, to make much noise while making love, and indeed she hadn't when she had fulfilled her duty with her husband. But here, in the Prince's vast and isolated bed chamber, she couldn't do anything but let her pleasure be known verbally, and she chanted his name and sweet moans as he touched her.
"My Lady?" Spratt's voice brought her back to the present. "Are you ready to turn in? Only it's past midnight" he said in his usual stiff way. "Very good, Spratt" she said. Yes a good night's sleep might make her think more clearly. She was never much of a romantic, and regretting one's past was certainly not her style. Still some memories, she found, were hard to leave behind.