Love and Splendor: The Coltrane Saga, Book 5 (29 page)

Lily leaped to her feet and threw her arms around his neck once more, and this time he did not push her away but neither did he yield.

“Oh, Colt, I’ll make you love me. I swear I will.”

Colt held her, his embrace as cold as his heart.

Chapter Twenty-One

Dani awoke with a smile on her lips, for the reality of her dream dawned on her as clearly as the sunlight streaming through the window. She was free!

Happily, she got out of bed to pad about the tiny rooms for the closer inspection she’d been too weary to make the night before. A good cleaning was surely needed, but she could close the shop early if there were no customers and take care of that this afternoon. There was little furniture—a cot and chair in what was supposed to be the bedroom, and a table and chair and small wood stove in the other room.

Well, that would change drastically, she thought. She’d seen a lovely mahogany spool bed in an antique furniture shop last week that would match nicely with a cherrywood armoire she’d fancied at yet another store. There were some decorative pieces downstairs that would brighten up the place, and, of course, she could make some curtains. The kitchen was another matter. It would take a bit of planning there, but she had time, all the time in the world, and Drake would probably be glad to help.

Drake.

She felt an instant wave of sadness. What should have been beautiful had so needlessly turned into a nightmare. But maybe it was all for the best, because now she had what she’d wanted for a long time—to be on her own. Still, it was regrettable that Poppa had to be hurt.

As for Drake, well, that was another matter. Perhaps she’d overreacted yesterday morning when he nobly offered marriage in an attempt to redeem them both. He was being a gentleman, that’s all, and she’d become nearly hysterical from shock at their predicament. She would just explain that to him, apologize for being so unpleasant. Maybe inviting him over for a cozy dinner in her apartment would smooth things over.

Then again, maybe it was time to just get away for a while, to travel as Kitty had urged. It would give everyone time to get their thoughts in perspective.

She took a cup of tea, and went downstairs to the shop. Walking around, she gazed thoughtfully at her collection of merchandise. The offering was meager. The truly fine objets d’art had been bought in the first few days after the grand opening. All too soon, it seemed that the only reason people came into the shop was to see the paintings of the renowned Monaco Find, but even interest in those was starting to wane, as she had known it would eventually. She resolved that something had to be done. She would not give people reason to snicker behind her back, to think of her as merely a dilettante who had quickly become bored with the responsibilities of running her own business; Dani was fiercely determined to be a respected businesswoman.

As she stood at the window staring out at the inhabitants of Upper Montmartre as they began their day, she lifted her cup to sip the last of the tea, and that was when the idea came to her. The cup she held was ordinary, but if she could offer truly exquisite china, like the coveted Flora Danica of the Royal Copenhagen factory in Denmark, then her shop would be considered truly unique. It was said that the first dinner service of Flora Danica was made between 1790 and 1802 for Catherine the Great of Russia, consisting of one hundred place settings with 1,802 pieces in all. When the Danish Princess Alexandra married the Prince of Wales in 1864, a second set was given as a wedding present.

Dani had become fascinated with the rare porcelain when she came across a book which told how in 1757
,
Denmark’s King Frederik V commissioned a botany professor to do a magnum opus on
flora danica,
titled
Flora of the Danish Kingdom.
The study eventually grew into seventeen volumes, and finally an illustrator named Johann Christoph Bayer was commissioned to work on the china, and over the next eleven years, he decorated by hand mast of the first service, eventually ruining his eyesight.

Dani recalled that only last week a customer had asked whether she had among her merchandise anything particularly exquisite, as she wanted something extraordinary for a favored niece’s wedding gift. Flora Danica would certainly have been appropriate, and Dani knew if she could arrange to procure and import the famed porcelain from Denmark, she would be touted as the most successful entrepreneur in Paris.

So, she asked herself excitedly, what was stopping her from going to Denmark on her first shopping excursion?

Filled with enthusiasm as the idea took hold, she unlocked the front door, posted the
OPEN
sign in the window, then began to dust and straighten. She hummed softly as she worked and thought how the timing for the trip would be perfect. Tensions would be forgotten within the family, and maybe she needed time away from Drake to come to terms with her feelings for him.

A warm glow suffused her as she thought of his dear and handsome face, recalling those splendorous moments in his arms. He had carried her so gently along to each and every pinnacle of joy, and when, at last, they had leaped together from the ultimate peak, they had become one.

That was what was so frightening—that single nucleus they had experienced for a few precious seconds. Was that love? Was she really falling in love with the gentle, yet awesomely strong Russian? His wit and charm and keen intelligence…the expressive blue eyes fringed with incredibly long and thick lashes…his stirringly sensuous mouth…the appealing accent of his native tongue…these all served to make him the most attractive man she had ever encountered.

She wanted to see him again.

She wanted him to make love to her again.

The sound of the bell at the front door annoyingly brought her out of her pleasurable reverie. Her vexation was increased by the sight of Cyril Arpel walking into the shop. He was wearing a tweed overcoat, a bright red scarf around his neck, and a gray hat, which he promptly removed as he greeted her happily. “My, you look lovely today. You’re almost radiant. Are you
that
glad to see me?” he added teasingly.

If she were truly glowing, she knew why…and wasn’t about to divulge such a secret. She disregarded his bantering. “
Bonjour
, Cyril. What brings you out so early?”

Cyril found it hard to pretend joviality when he was still steaming inside over what he’d seen last night. With extreme effort, he lightly replied, “Seems that every time I come by, we’re interrupted, so I thought I’d try to visit early to ask if you’d like to have dinner with me tonight.”

Ironically, the doorbell jangled at that precise moment. Lurline walked in, obviously straining from the weight of the tapestry bags she carried. Without fanfare, she told Dani, “
Madame
Coltrane sent these over.” She set the bags down and stood back, nodding politely to Cyril.

Dani was puzzled. She’d packed everything she wanted or needed. As she moved to see what was inside the bags, Lurline said, “She sent some of your books,
mademoiselle
. And some of the objets d’art from your room.”

Dani was impressed with Kitty’s thoughtfulness and said so, adding, “But you tell her it wasn’t necessary. I could have brought them over myself later.”

With her usual candor, Lurline brightly observed, “It was probably her way of saying she’s not angry and wants you to be happy here.”

Dani frowned, not wanting to discuss personal matters in front of Cyril, and she could see he was eagerly taking in each word. “Well, you run along now, and do relay my appreciation.”

Lurline moved to the door. “Yes, I’ll do that, and
Madame
said to tell you to please come for a visit soon.”

The moment she left, Cyril could not restrain his curiosity. “What’s this all about? It sounds as though you’ve left home.” He laughed at what was surely a ludicrous assumption.

Dani picked up the bags, set them to one side. “That’s exactly what I’ve done. I live here now.”

Cyril was stunned, and could not resist expressing disapproval. “It’s unheard of for a young lady of your background and breeding to live alone. People will—”

“People can go to hell if they don’t like it,” Dani snapped rebelliously. “I’m not going to live according to other people’s rules, Cyril, and if you think I’m going to stand here and listen to you criticize me, you’re crazy.”

Cyril shook his head, sighed. “It seems every time I open my mouth I annoy you, Dani. I’m truly sorry.”

She was not about to be manipulated into feeling pity for him. “If you’d mind your own business, we’d get along just fine.”

He gritted his teeth. He had not come here to have a fight. Softly, he attempted to smooth the friction. “Back to my purpose in being here—I’d like to take you out to dinner tonight.” Stepping closer, he gently touched her arm. “Quite frankly, my dear, I’d like time for us to be alone together, without interruptions, and maybe you’d find out I’m not such a despicable person after all.”

Dani wearily assured him she found him quite nice when he was not prying into her business.

“Then you’ll have dinner with me?” he asked hopefully.

She shook her head, moved away from him. Her plans were to close early, straighten up her apartment, then surprise Drake with a visit to invite him over for dinner tomorrow night. Oh, it was all she could do to keep from singing aloud at the thought of actually being able to prepare an intimate little dinner for the man she might be falling in love with! How wonderful it was to be free! Her dream was truly a reality, and she intended to live it well.

Cyril was watching her closely, could see her mind was elsewhere. “Why not?” he demanded coolly. “What else do you have to do?”

Exasperated, she cried, “Oh, Cyril, why do you make me say such things to you? It’s none of your business what I have to do. Please just accept my regrets.”

Petulantly, he said, “Well, the least you can do is give me a reason why you don’t want to be in my company.”

Wearily, she decided there was no harm in telling him. Maybe he would stop badgering her if he realized once and for all she was interested in another man. “I’m going to visit Drake.”

He stiffened at once. Drakar…Drake. By any other name the man was still a scamp. Broodingly, he looked over Dani’s head and beyond to where the painting of the Alexandrovsky Palace was displayed. An idea was rapidly forming. Now that she was living upstairs, it might prove difficult to break in at night, but since he knew she’d be out this evening, what better time to make his move? If he waited any longer, the Russian would have her eating out of his hand…and
his
hands would, no doubt, be on the painting. Cyril couldn’t let that happen. Returning his attention to Dani, he acquiesced. “Very well. Maybe we can make it another evening…”

“Of course,” Dani murmured, knowing all the time she had no intention of going out with him.

He hastened to add, “But don’t make it too long. I’m going to be leaving Paris soon, and I probably won’t return till spring.”

It was Dani’s turn to be curious. “Why will you be away so long?”

“The season. I always go to Saint Petersburg for the season.”

Dani blinked, not understanding. “What season?”

“Why, the social season, of course. In Saint Petersburg. Officially, it begins on New Year’s Day and lasts until the beginning of Lent, but I like to go over early in November. There’s so much going on.” A dreamy expression took over as he attempted to describe how the aristocracy spent the long winter nights moving through staggering rounds of concerts, balls, banquets, ballets, operas, midnight suppers, and private parties. “Everyone who is anyone is there, and I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He could not help sounding boastful.

Dani was obviously envious. “It sounds so exciting.”

“I’d love to take you there with me, but I don’t suppose that’s possible.”

She shrugged, then brightened. “I’m thinking of going to Denmark, to visit the Royal Copenhagen factory to see if they’ll let me import their Flora Danica porcelain and offer it in my shop.”

He shared her enthusiasm. “That would really be unique, Dani. I hope you can arrange it. But it’s a shame that we won’t be leaving Paris at the same time. I prefer to go by ship, before the rivers freeze, and we sail right around Denmark to enter the Baltic Sea. In fact, the ships usually stop in Copenhagen. I could go with you to the factory, perhaps help make the arrangements.”

Dani readily agreed that would’ve been nice but explained she didn’t know just when she could get away. “You’re probably leaving much sooner than I.”

“Probably.” He smiled to himself, not about to admit he intended to get out of Paris as soon as possible once he had the painting in his possession. Drakar would head for Russia the fastest way available, and Cyril hoped Drakar would be gone by the time he got there so he would be free to search for the egg without worrying about the Russian’s presence.

A customer wandered in, and Cyril left. He had a lot to do in preparation for the evening, and first on the agenda was a visit to the telegraph office to arrange the bogus message for Drakar. He had toyed with the idea of having it appear to come from Czar Alexander but rejected that plan. As soon as Drakar found out the Czar hadn’t sent for him, he’d realize someone wanted him out of Paris, especially when he returned to hear the painting had been stolen. No need to risk that, not when it was easy to conjure up a message from a nonexistent relative, a distant cousin of Drakar’s father, who Drakar would never have heard of, who was also interested in restoring honor to the Mikhailonov name. The message would be worded so as to hint that this cousin had information about the Fabergé egg but feared the revolutionaries were on his trail. When Drakar arrived and found no cousin, he could assume his relative was a victim of the radicals still searching for the egg and the money it would bring.