Part 25 (2/2)
Tata was sitting up in her bed, dressed in an elaborate bed coat trimmed with bows and frills, a lacy cap perched atop her perfectly coiffed curls. On the bed before her sat a tray; her maid was just pouring the tea.
”Humph. There you are.” Tata flashed a look at the maid. ”Leave. I will speak with my grandson now.”
The maid curtsied and, taking the covers from the plates, left.
As soon as the door closed, Tata said, ”It took you long enough to come.”
”I came the second I was informed you wished to see me.”
Tata's brows rose.
”Correction, I came the second I heard you might be dying, even though I didn't believe it in the least.”
A smug expression rested on her face. ”I thought that might do it.”
”You'll cry wolf one time too many and-”
”You won't come? Please. You have your father's quixotic propensities. All of his sons do. You can't help yourself.”
He gritted his teeth. ”What do you want, Tata?”
”Where were you when the footman delivered my message?”
”In the foyer. In another two minutes, I'd have made good my escape.”
Her brows rose. ”Escape? It's come to that, has it?”
”Da. Again, what do you want, Tata?”
She took a sip of tea. ”First, I seem to have lost my dog. Again.”
”Papillon is with Strath, who should be riding the south trail by now.”
”She gets filthy when you take her to the fields.”
He shrugged. ”She needs exercise.”
Tata didn't look happy. ”Bring her back when you return, but have her washed first.”
”I shall. Now, what hugely important duties do you have for me today? Not more Olympian Dew or Gorland's Lotion, I hope? I purchased all they had at the village apothecary's yesterday.”
”No, no. I have plenty now.” She pressed a hand to her heart and sighed. ”It has been a great help already.”
”Indeed. Last night at dinner I sat beside Miss MacInvers, who has some experience with medicines as her mother is quite elderly. I asked her what she thought of your two potions.”
Tata Natasha dropped her hand from her chest, her gaze suddenly evasive.
”She said she preferred Olympian Dew, as it made her skin the softest, while Gorland's was better for those with freckles.”
Tata took a hurried bite of ham.
”You told me you needed those. Needed them, Tata.”
She swallowed. ”I do need them.”
”You led me to believe your health was involved, that they were medicinal. They are not.”
”At my age, beauty lotion is medicinal,” she replied crossly.
He sighed. ”Tata, for the last two days, you've kept me busy running errands. I've allowed it, but not today. Today, I will do as I wish to.”
”And what is it that you wish to do that's so important?”
And there it is. ”As I said, I'll return Papillon to you this evening.”
”Pah! Keep the dog. She prefers you, anyway.” She poured herself some tea and then regarded him over the rim of her cup, her dark eyes narrowed. ”You are making a mistake, you know.”
He'd turned toward the door, but at this, he sighed and turned back.
She clacked her cup down on the saucer. ”I am old, not stupid. I know what you're doing, and I worry. Of all your brothers, you are the most restless.”
”Me? What of Grisha? He hasn't been in Oxenburg more than three days in a row for the last four years.”
”He's a soldier-prince. He must train the army.”
”Even when the army is home, he finds reasons to stay gone. Don't tell me Papa and Mama have not mentioned it; I know they have.”
Her thin lips twitched. ”He's a problem for another time. This minute, you are the problem.” There was a sulky tone to her voice. ”Nikolai and Wulf never cause such worry as you.”
”Nikki is the heir, so he cannot afford to cause problems. And Wulf is now married, which means he's no longer your concern. That leaves you far too free to bother me.”
”I have concerned myself with you because you refuse to pay court to a woman who would make your family proud! Always, you find the ones who are unsuitable-singers and dancers and actresses, and now this little mouse- Pah!”
”Leave it, Tata. You don't know what you're talking about.”
She gave him a grim look. ”I know more than you give me credit for.”
Because she wasn't above bribing footmen, no doubt. Footmen always seemed to know which way the wind blew. ”You wished me to court a woman of quality.”
”Not one like this. Bronwyn Murdoch has no manners, no grace-nothing a princess will need. She would not know how to welcome a foreign dignitary and make him feel at ease, or how to speak to fellow guests at a royal dinner. She dances like a performing bear and says the most outrageous things-Sir Henry tried to make genteel conversation with her at the last dinner, and she blurted out that she didn't like talking to people she didn't know. What sort of princess is that?”
Alexsey had to hide a smile. ”I dislike talking to most people, myself.”
”But you do not announce it. You can make polite conversation when you need to; she cannot.”
”That's your only objection?”
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