“Good night, Captain,” she teased, her eyes dancing as they never had before. “Good night, my love,” she called softly as he hurried down the stairs on feet that wanted to dance. He couldn't help smiling to himself, thinking that never in his life had he been this happy.
CHAPTER
21
“You must have gone to bed very late last night.” Her grandmother spoke quietly over breakfast. Zoya had sliced some of the apples for her, and made a precious piece of toast from the bread that Clayton had brought them.
“Not very.” She averted her eyes as she sipped at her tea, and then stealthily gobbled a chocolate.
“You're still a child, little one.” Her grandmother said it almost sadly as she watched her. She knew what was coming and she was afraid for her. He was a good man, but it was not a desirable situation. Vladimir had said as much to her the night before and she couldn't disagree with him, but she also knew that she couldn't stop Zoya. Perhaps the Captain would be wiser than the child, but having come all the way from Chaumont to see her, she thought it unlikely. And it was obvious to everyone who saw him, that he was desperately in love with Zoya.
“I'm eighteen, Grandmama.”
“And what does that mean?” The old woman smiled sadly.
“It means that I'm not as silly as you think.”
“You're silly enough to fall in love with a man old enough to be your father. A man who is in a foreign land, with an army at war, a man who will go home someday and leave you here. You must think of that before you do anything foolish.”
“I'm not going to do anything foolish.”
“See that you don't.” But she was already in love with him, and that was enough to cause her pain when he left. And he would leave, when the war was over, if not sooner. “He won't marry you. You must know that.”
“I don't want to marry him anyway.” But that was a lie, and they both knew it.
When Clayton arrived at the apartment shortly after breakfast, he saw the guarded look in the old woman's eyes. He brought her flowers this time, three fresh eggs, and another loaf of bread.
“I shall grow fat while you visit us, Captain.” She smiled graciously at him. He was a charming man. But she was still very much afraid for Zoya.
“There's no danger of that, madame. Would you like to take a walk in the Tuileries with us?”
“I would.” She smiled, almost feeling young again herself. He seemed to bring sunlight and happiness with him everywhere, with his thoughtful gifts and gentle ways, so much like her own son, with his warm eyes and quick laughter. “But I'm afraid that my knees won't agree. I seem to have a touch of rheumatism this winter.” The “touch” she referred to would have crippled a lesser woman. Only Zoya suspected how much pain she was in.
“Will you allow me to take Zoya for a walk then?” He was proper and well bred, and she liked him immensely.
“You're very kind to ask me, young man. I don't think there would be any stopping Zoya.” They both laughed while Zoya went to get her things with a happy blush that outshone her worn clothes, and tired dresses. For the first time in months, she longed for something pretty to wear again. She had had so many lovely dresses in St. Petersburg, all of them burned and gone now, but not yet forgotten.
Zoya kissed her grandmother good-bye, and the old woman watched them go, feeling happy for them, as Clayton took Zoya's hand. One couldn't feel anything less for them. They seemed to light up the room with their excitement. Zoya was chatting happily as they left, and she could hear them as they hurried down the stairs. He had one of the staff cars outside, that had been commandeered for the army.
“Well, where would you like to go?” He smiled at her from behind the wheel. “I'm entirely at your service.” And she was free too. There were no rehearsals or performances to worry about. She could spend every minute with Clayton.
“Let's go to the Faubourg St. Honoro. I want to look in all the shops. I never have time to do things like that, and besides there isn't much point anyway.” She told him, as they drove, how much she and Mashka had loved clothes, and how beautiful Aunt Alix's dresses had been. “My mother was always beautifully dressed too. But she was never a very happy person.” It was an odd thing to admit to him, but it seemed so natural to tell him everything, she wanted to share her every thought, every wish, every dream, every memory, so he would know her better. “Mama was very nervous. Grandmama says Papa spoiled her.” Zoya suddenly giggled, feeling young again.
“You should be spoiled too. Maybe you will one day, just like your mother”
She laughed openly at him as they parked the car and got out to walk. “I don't think it would make me nervous.”
He laughed back at her, and tucked her hand into his arm as they strolled along, and the hours seemed to fly past them like moments.
