Russka - Edward Rutherfurd [298]
‘I bet she really does sleep with her eyes open,’ he muttered bitterly.
The great house was silent; the guests had left. Alexander and his mistress had withdrawn to her apartment in the east wing and now at last they could talk alone. Naturally, they were discussing his marriage.
The wing was easily reached along a passageway from the main house; it also had a private entrance down a little back staircase that gave on to the street. It was perfectly arranged, therefore, for the conduct of a discreet affair. Adelaide de Ronville’s rooms were entirely delightful. They might have been in her native France: Louis XV and XVI furniture; an Aubusson carpet with a garlanded border; thick curtains of flowered silk with heavy valances and tassels; lush draperies on the furniture; tapestries with charming pastoral scenes; soft pinks and blues, gilt, but not too much. These were the elements that she had arranged with a lightness, simplicity and concealed sense of form that had their own special charm.
When Alexander had told her about the countess’s decision, she took his arm affectionately and smiled. ‘You must marry the girl, my friend.’
What an unusual woman she was. Half-French, half-Polish, she was above average height, rather square in the shoulder, with an alabaster skin. She had been a brunette until she was thirty-five, but now her natural hair colour was iron grey. She had an oval face, almond-brown eyes which were sometimes a little sad, and a broad ironic mouth. Her figure was slim, her breasts rather high; but it was, for some reason, a slight thickening about her thighs that, in their lovemaking, aroused Alexander to heights of passion.
It was remarkable how little she had altered in their ten years together. Only now was she entering her change of life, but that did not matter. Her slim, strong build had kept her trim; she moved with a wonderful, lithe grace and if, with the passing of the years, Alexander had noticed in certain places a boniness and a looseness of the skin that she could not help, he just directed his hands to other caresses, which better produced the illusion that nothing had changed. Indeed, the knowledge that they were cheating time gave him a sense of poignancy unlike any other he knew. It was the beauty of autumn – golden and warm.
Adelaide was grateful for the affair. As an old Frenchwoman had once told her: ‘An older woman improves a young man. But he is also good for her because he accepts her as she is.’ It was true. She savoured, as a little triumph, the fact that she could still drive this rather self-centred man to erotic delight.
In his way, Bobrov loved her. His affairs with younger women had never meant so much to him. He had only to watch one of her perfect little gestures, see the elegant way she moved, to forget all the others. ‘Besides, I can talk to her,’ he would say. They had few secrets. She knew of all his plans, even his desire to desert her for the empress’s bed. As she drily said: ‘It’s a career.’
And now she was firm with him.
‘You must secure this German girl at once.’
‘I don’t really want to, you know.’
‘Be grateful that she loves you, cher ami.’ She smiled wryly. ‘Perhaps it will be good for you.’
‘And for you?’
She gave a little shrug. Even now, he could still be heavy-footed. What did he want – a confession of her despair to wear like a trophy? A dismissal? Forgiveness? ‘One must be practical,’ she said calmly. ‘You will like it. It is good to have a family.’
‘Perhaps.’
‘Enfin.’ There was the faintest hint of impatience in her voice. ‘You will not come here.’
‘I certainly shall.’ He would try to be a good husband, but he had no wish to desert Adelaide.
She, however, shook her head. ‘You must spend time with your wife, you know. It is very important.’
He sighed. ‘I know. But you will not forbid me to see you?’
‘Oh … that.’ She shrugged. ‘Who knows? We shall see.’
Would she take another lover? He disliked that idea, although he felt he could not in conscience lay further claim to her.
‘And this girl,’ she said at last. ‘What is she like?