Alexander: Memoirs (A Vampire In Love Book 1) Page 2

  Alexander returned home in a daze. He left all of Katharine’s shopping with the maids and sped to the kitchen. His mother would know what to do. She was a woman and knew more about love than he did.

  He burst into the kitchen. His breaths came in quick succession in step with his pounding heart. “Mother, I have something to ask you.”

  She was already working on the preparations for tonight’s dinner. Her powdered fingers massaged the dough in the sprinkled flour and then beat it into the shape she wanted.

  She laughed softly. “What is it, my son?”

  Alexander started for the sink. He washed the dirt off his hands and dried them on a cloth next to the furnace. Joining her at the table, he chose his next words with care. “I think I am in love.”

  His mother tensed. Her fingers stopped and the dough remained a shapeless blob in her grasp. “I hope she is a nice girl. Is she from the market?”

  Alexander reached for the flour. He sprinkled some on his hands and rubbed them together. “Not exactly.”

  His mother faced him. Her eyes were filled with worry that he couldn’t understand.

  She shot a nervous glance at the doorway and lowered her voice. “If this is about Katharine, you must forget how you feel. She is out of your reach and will remain there.”

  When he remained silent, she wiped her hands on her apron. “You are already twenty-two years old, Alexander. Find love elsewhere and be happy. That is all I ever wanted for you.”

  His mother was right. Without influence and money, the gap between them was as vast as an ocean. Regardless of how hard his heart called out to her, Katharine was not his to have.

  A bell chimed, and Alexander glanced at the plaque underneath it. He was needed in the library.

  “I will return to help you prepare dinner in a moment,” he said and quickly rinsed his hands.

  Alexander’s shoulders grew heavy as he approached Yosef Sokolov’s favourite room in the house—the library. He sucked in a breath which he held and knocked on the imposing door.

  “Come in,” came a gruff voice from the other side.

  Alexander reached for the door handle with a trembling hand. He couldn’t abandon the thought that Katharine had told her father about their trip to the park. If he found out, this would be the last conversation he was going to have before he and his mother were expelled from this home.

  He peered inside.

  Yosef Sokolov stood by the window, his broad back facing Alexander. His salt and pepper hair brushed the collar of his navy coat. He turned around, his face betraying nothing that went on behind his dark eyes.

  “Alexander…” Yosef stretched his name, rolling it on his tongue as if checking for imperfections.

  Alexander straightened his posture. It was something he did since he was little. On the inside, he was shaking with fear. “Yes, sir?”

  “Don’t look so nervous, child. I want to know how you and your mother are faring with work.”

  Alexander’s father always said to look out for tells and hidden meanings in words. Nobles rarely said what they truly wanted. They expected their best servants to read their mind—a skill Alexander had not yet mastered.

  “The workload is fine, sir. We are doing just fine.”

  Yosef bobbed his head in drawn-out fashion. “Good. Very good.” He came to stand in front of Alexander, his dark eyes stripping him bare. “That means you can begin learning under Leonid starting tomorrow morning.”

  “What about Katharine’s breakfast?” Alexander quickly bit his tongue when Yosef’s eyes narrowed.

  “She will have her maid and a tutor look after her from now on. I would prefer it if you did not spend any more time with my daughter. My dear Katharine will begin her studies to be a good wife. Any distractions would be unwelcome.”

  Alexander stomped down his pride. He was not suited for her, his status was equal to that of a dog. “As you wish, sir, I will not spend time with Lady Katharine.”

  Yosef planted a heavy hand on Alexander’s shoulder. “Very good.”

  Alexander was kept busy by Leonid throughout the following morning. The man did not believe in free time or breaks and, as promised by Yosef, Katharine was always with her maid or her tight-lipped female tutor.

  After Alexander finished wiping the shelves in the library, he headed to the kitchen. His mother would need his help, or so he told himself. He needed something, anything to occupy his mind that was not the woman who made his heart beat.

  Katharine descended the stairs in her golden dress that reflected the sunlight that came in through the windows.

  His stride faltered, and he unconsciously stopped to appreciate her captivating beauty.

  She smiled, beckoning with her hand for him to not make a sound by pressing her index finger to her plump lips. She reached the last step, grasped his hand, and pulled him after her.

  Alexander stumbled but quickly caught himself. He was helpless and unable to deny her anything, even if he had only yesterday made a promise to her father.

  “This way,” she whispered and pushed him into one of the storage rooms.

  The darkness consumed the light the moment she closed the door behind them.

  He squinted. “We can’t be seen together. Your father wants me to stay away.”

  “I wanted to see you. Last night, I was forced to exchange pleasantries with so many noblemen I thought I would die of boredom. The only thought that let me survive the night”—she pressed her body against his—“was the thought of you.”

  Alexander groaned. His fingers itched to hold her, so he clutched the material of his trousers.

  Katharine stood on her tiptoes. She used her dainty hands to balance once she placed them on his shoulders. “Are you not going to touch me? Did my father ask that of you also?”

  “Not specifically, no.”

  She covered her mouth with her gloved hand and giggled. The sound was so faint, he would not have heard it if they were not close enough to feel the warmth of each other’s breaths.

  “It means that you are not going against his direct orders.”

  He let go of his trousers, his fingers already sore from clenching the material so tightly. He traced her jaw with his thumb. Even in the dark, she was perfection to him with skin as smooth as alabaster.

  She closed her eyes, relaxing into his touch. “See? Nothing to fear.”

  Alexander’s fingertips travelled down her slender neck to her shoulder and all the way to her fingers that held on to him.

  This is wrong, he told himself and knew it. Yet, he didn’t seem to care about the consequences when she was by his side.

  “Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice wavering. He could almost hear her lips stretching into a smile. Taking that as a positive response, he lowered his head.

  “Lady Katharine, where are you?” a female voice called from the hallway.

  Katharine hugged him and giggled into his shoulder, muffling the sound of her mirth.

  Alexander wrapped his arms protectively around her, yearning for a closer touch. Her body was much smaller than his. Through the material of her dress, he could feel her heart beating just as wildly as his.

  The calls of the maid grew distant, and she pulled away. “Come see me tonight.”

  With a fleeting kiss of promise on his cheek, she fumbled in the darkness until she found the door. She peeked out the tiny gap she made before she waved and scurried away, holding her skirts in both hands.

  Alexander stumbled out of the storage room. His eyes lingered on her retreating form down the hall while his mind battled between morals and the wishes of his heart.

  Alexander had never waited for nightfall with such eagerness. He could not sit still. On top of everything Leonid had requested of him, he cleaned the kitchen, watered the potted plants, even sat down and shaved the stubble off his youthful face.

  He studied his reflection in the tiny mirror he had borrowed from his mother. He was young but looked older than his true age. Even
though his hair matched the colour of the faintest cotton sheets, his brows were as dark as the night’s sky. His eyes were the palest shade of grey, giving him a slightly haunted look.

  Alexander scowled. He knew he wasn’t the ugliest man in Moscow. More than on one occasion, he caught women in the market staring at him when he would pass them by. He even had women offering him to spend the night, which he refused out of respect he held towards the opposite sex.

  He looked outside through the gap in the faded curtains. Night had fallen over the city. His mother lay in bed under the window. Her dark brows were drawn together even in the moment of relaxation after a long day’s work.

  As silently as possible, he placed the mirror on her bedside table and smoothed out her forehead. Her skin was rough and porous. A working woman like her had little time to look after herself and that tugged at his heartstrings. He tucked her arm under the covers to keep her warm.

  “One day, I will find a way to make us enough money, so you can sleep on a bed that belongs to you.” With a smile, he turned on his heel and strode out of the room, closing the door behind him.

  Alexander sneaked through the kitchen and made his way to the hallway. He moved his bare feet, planting one in front of the other until he reached the staircase.

  Katharine should be waiting for him in her room. He imagined her in her nightdress—the long white linen trailing to her ankles, exposing her small, pale feet. Alexander balled his hands into fists. He could do it. He would go see her even to catch a glimpse of her before she sent him away.

  He crept up the winding staircase. His breathing became as erratic as his heart. All it would take was for someone to open their bedroom door and see him for his life to be ruined. That alone added to the danger that pumped adrenaline through his system, daring him to stay on course.

  He crept past Yosef’s bedroom. A faint sound of his wife’s moans escaped through the door, and Alexander blushed. He shook his head and pressed on, counting down the distance he had left in his head.

  Once he reached Katharine’s room, her door was left ajar. He gently pushed it open, squeezed inside, and closed it behind him. Like a good Christian, he thanked the heavens that he had oiled the hinges in the entire house last week.

  “Alexander?” Katharine’s faint voice came from the other side of the room.

  He shuddered with pleasure and turned to see her. “I came to you as you bid me.”

  When his brain registered what he was seeing, his mouth became unwilling to close the last inch. She was everything a man could ask for—a goddess lying atop of her cotton sheets.

  “Come here,” she whispered.

  As if bound by a spell she was weaving, he took a step forward and then another. His knees bumped against the oak frame of her bed. He couldn’t look away from the otherworldly creature he gazed upon.

  She was propped up on her pillows against the bedframe. Her long auburn hair flowed effortlessly over her shoulders and fell to her sides. The nightdress that usually would reach her ankles was shamelessly wrapped around her thighs. Not that he could or wanted to complain. Her slender milky legs were illuminated by a single candle’s light in the corner of her room, and he held his breath as if that simple task would ruin this illusion.

  “You are a goddess,” he finally managed to say.

  Katharine hid her smile behind her hand. “No man has ever compared me to a goddess.”

  Alexander walked around the bed on shaky legs. “Then no man has ever seen your true beauty.” He came to a stop when he arrived at her side.

  She patted the space next to her. “Sit.”

  He did. His body was glad that he was no longer standing as all of the blood from his legs had gathered elsewhere.

  Katharine touched his freshly shaven cheek, running her soft palm over it. “You cannot see the way I see you, Alexander. You are much more beautiful than I.”

  Alexander frowned. He sensed a hint of wonder and something else, some dark message entwined with her words. Taking her hand, he lowered it to his chest. It rose and fell with his irregular breathing. “I am here to do as you ask.”

  She sat up and brushed her hair to one side with her free hand. “How far are you willing to go to please me?”

  His heart beat so hard, he thought it would climb up his throat and take a midnight sprint in the garden outside. He would have sold his soul to the Devil if it meant he would have her for the rest of his life. “As far as you want.”

  She pulled her hand away from his grasp and pressed her thumb to his lips.

  “Suck on it,” she ordered.

  Alexander parted his lips, drawing in her finger. He licked the pad of her thumb and then sucked on it gently. Having any part of her felt like heaven. Perhaps the universe was not such a cruel mistress for granting him this boon.

  Katharine’s pupils dilated and her eyes became hooded as an inextinguishable fire burned in her smouldering gaze. She let out a muffled moan and smiled.

  “Do you love me?” she asked.

  Alexander tried to speak, but she pressed her thumb down on his tongue, trapping it in place. He didn’t fight her.

  “Show me with your actions, my love, not with words that any man can recite.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Three days had passed since his midnight visit to her chambers. Katharine’s touch still lingered on his lips. His hands remembered her small frame. If he were given the chance, he could build a statue of her from memory. Yet, he could not defile her then. That would bring shame to her and her family if any one soul found out. Her father would undoubtedly throw her to the wolves in the forests outside of Moscow. Alexander couldn’t permit for such a thing to happen to his dearest love.

  He stopped in the hallway and glanced up at the staircase.

  Would I see her today?

  The maid hadn’t left her side since Yosef left to personally attend to his business in the city.

  Alexander felt a heavy hand landing on his shoulder and jumped.

  For an old man, Leonid had a tendency to appear throughout the mansion as if he were a ghost. His pale porous skin and grey hair did nothing to alleviate such assumptions. He was shorter than Alexander by a foot. His bushy moustache curved at the ends and his hairline receded almost halfway up his skull, leaving behind a shiny surface with an occasional hair that desperately clung to his scalp.

  “What brings you here, Alexander? You do not have anything to do with the upper floor,” Leonid said.

  Alexander looked at the ground. “I was on my way to the stables, sir.”

  “Just remember, child, your mother needs you. If you make one mistake on my watch, both of you will be discarded from this household at a moment’s notice.”

  Alexander bobbed his head in acknowledgement. There was little one could do as a servant in their world. The highest his father reached was the position of a butler. And he proudly did that job for over fifteen years before an illness tore him away from his family.

  Is that my fate also? To bow my head, receive orders, and to clean the chamber pots when it is convenient for the nobles?

  Leonid’s hand slid away. “You are a bright boy, and I can tell you are questioning your life’s position. You must remember this, once you are born a servant, you remain a servant. Greed for more will only get you killed.” With that, the old man ambled away with his arms tucked behind his hunched back.

  There was no doubt in Alexander’s mind that Leonid knew something was amiss. He held many of the household’s secrets, all of which Yosef would hear later.

  Alexander spared one last look at the staircase and hurried towards the stables.

  Horses were majestic creatures in Alexander’s mind. They were bound by reins and saddles, yet, if they wished to be free, they could abandon their rider and speed away into the distance. It was almost like they played along with the rules and games humans devised simply to humour them.

  He picked up a brush and started stroking the stallion’s generous silver man
e. From behind him, a sound of galloping drew closer, grabbing his attention.

  The rider, Yosef, stopped his steed next to Alexander.

  “Good morning, sir,” Alexander said with a slight bow at the middle.

  “It is a good morning, is it not? I cannot wait to speak with my wife and Katharine. I will leave my horse in your care,” he said in an upbeat manner and climbed off his horse. Yosef handed the reins to Alexander and marched towards the house with determination in his stride.

  Frowning, Alexander led the horse into the stables where he took off the saddle. “Is the master on an important mission?”

  To no one’s surprise, the horse did not reply, and Alexander felt foolish for trying to converse with an animal.

  After brushing both horses and cleaning out the stables, he retreated into the house where he heard Katharine’s shouts coming from the library. Panic and worry surged through Alexander, and he ran towards the source of the argument.

  Leonid stood with his back to the door, keeping other servants from entering. He saw Alexander’s worried expression and shook his head.

  “There is no need for concern,” Leonid whispered, his words were almost drowned out by the bellows coming from the library.

  Alexander leaned against the wall and folded his arms over his chest. Closing his eyes, he started to listen in on the conversation in the library.

  “…not attend, and I do not agree with your reasoning, Papa!” Katharine fumed.

  “That place will teach you to be a good wife to the man I have chosen as your future husband. When you are done with your studies, he will succeed my business,” Yosef said.

  “Perhaps we could wait for another season or two,” Karina interjected. “Sending her away at sixteen…”

  There was a loud bang as if someone had slammed their fist against the lacquered oak desk inside.

  “She is old enough, Karina. As a young lady of this household, she will learn to do as I bid. You have a week to prepare, Katharine, unless you wish to question my decision further?”

  Katharine’s response was barely audible.