Read Seized by Love for Free Online Page B

seeing you painting, intruded on your
privacy. Do forgive my impertinence." And he grinned warmly to disperse
the lie.
    With consummate skill he
continued to try to put her at ease. What could she say unless she wished to be
rudely uncivil?
    "Of course, Prince
Kuzan, there's no need to apologize. You're right," she said as she
settled less stiffly on the grass, but kept her distance from him, which didn't
escape Nikki's notice. "The weather is altogether remarkable for this
early in the spring."
    "Have
you studied
somewhere?" he repeated politely.
    "Oh, no, I've never
been beyond Helsinki, but my parents studied in Paris; in fact, they first met
while sketching at the Louvre. Both served as my teachers, although Father
viewed his painting as a hobby and was rather more interested in gathering
information on the historic roots of the Kalevala. He quite devoted his life to
the enterprise and had collated thirty-four stanzas of the epic before he and
mother died—"
    An unmistakable expression
of pain passed over her lovely face and her sentence trailed off.
    She was from the gentry.
That accounted for her delicate beauty and fluent French, he thought.
    "My condolences,
Madame, the memory must be painful."
    Alisa nodded, unable to
speak. Recalling her parents' death could still paralyze and stupefy her even
after all this time. With a palpable effort she returned to the present and
quickly brushed off Prince Kuzan's sympathy and her self-pity. "It all
occurred six long years ago; I am quite reconciled to my loss."
    Nikki, however, could see
she was not, and he experienced an uncharacteristic pang of compassion for the
obviously distraught young woman. She at least wasn't acting when it came to
her bereavement over the loss of her parents.
    "With your training,
you no doubt are interested in the new exhibits of the Wanderers," he
conversationally stated, hoping to distract and cast aside her painful thoughts.
"I saw an extraordinary reception of their work last winter in
Petersburg."
    The diversion was more
successful than he'd anticipated. Mrs. Forseus's eyes, her expression,
immediately, patently brightened.
    "The Wanderers!"
she exclaimed. "Have you
really
seen their work?"
    "Yes, I have several
catalogues of their exhibitions and a small landscape of Shishkin's."
    Her violet eyes widened in
fascinated excitement. "You do?" she breathed in wonder, her face
overcome with a childlike awe.
    Nikki refrained from
revealing to her that he was relatively uninterested in the Wanderers, or any
other painters, for that matter. He'd been cajoled against his will into
attending the exhibitions because his mistress, Countess Amalienborg had
seductively insisted, and he was in a receptive enough humor to yield to her
extremely pleasurable methods of entreaty. And as for his purchase of the
Shishkin landscape, the only reason he'd bought it was to annoy that pompous
ass, Count Borcheff, who was bent on having the painting. Nikki had derived
inordinate satisfaction from carelessly raising each one of Borcheff's bids
until the bombastic Count had been forced to drop out and lose the painting.
His personal secretary, Ivan Dolorosky, conscientiously bought the exhibition
catalogues as well as every other new book, pamphlet, and article published and
added them to Nikki's extensive library. Ivan had been given carte blanche to
purchase for the library since the pursuit was so gratifying to the young man.
Nikki vaguely recollected Ivan speaking rapturously of the newest Wanderer
catalogue; thank heaven, he'd attended, however superficially, to Ivan's
enthusiastic monologue.
    Alisa conversed freely
after Nikki's fortuitous attempt at diverting her morose memories, explaining
her admiration for these new painters, who with a technical skill, par
excellence, portrayed socially significant subjects, historical scenes,
landscapes from life, that were poignantly effective as well as exquisitely
rendered.
    Alisa glowed with fervor
when she spoke of the