Page 10 of The Storybook Hero
That he was no fine gentleman was evident. His clothes were presentable enough, but little things gave away the state of the owner’s purse. The cuffs of his jacket were slightly frayed, and the elbows showed a bit of shine from long use. His shirt collar had already been turned, and the polish on his boots could not hide the fact that they had seen better days. Her mouth quirked slightly. Oh yes, she recognized the signs of economy quite well. Alex was no more plump in the pocket than she was.
And remembering his roving hands and lips, she had another reason to know he was no true gentleman, even though she had to admit such behavior was hardly a reliable measure of one’s breeding these days.
Her thoughts were interrupted by Alex’s reply. “I have been engaged as a tutor, ma’am.”
Octavia gave snort, which she disguised as a cough. What in heaven’s name was he going to teach a young man—drinking, cards and wenching?
He seemed to read her thoughts and a faint smile came to his lips. “I have some proficiency in languages and mathematics,” he continued. “Among other things.”
She couldn’t believe it. Another wink! The man was insufferable.
“Why, what a coincidence!” exclaimed Mrs. Phillips. “Miss Hadley is engaged as a governess, aren’t you my dear?”
Octavia muttered an assent through clenched teeth.
“Yes, she is to see to the ward of one of our deputy ministers. An excellent man. My husband knows him well.”
“You will no doubt find St. Petersburg a fascinating city. The French architect?—”
“Oh, Miss Hadley will not be in living in St. Petersburg. She is going to Moscow.”
Why didn’t the woman give him her bust measurements and the color of her garters while she was at it? thought Octavia.
Alex’s brow puckered. “Moscow?” He slanted a glance at her. “Reports have it that Napoleon means to invade Russia shortly, despite his alliance with the Tsar. Moscow will no doubt be his main target.”
“That is hardly any of your concern,” She knew it was a churlish reply, but her patience had been sorely stretched.
He accepted the set-down with his usual enigmatic smile and a slight incline of his head.
“And you, Alex, where are you headed, and for whom are you working?”
The woman truly left no stone unturned. No wonder she had mined such a wealth of gossip and trivia to inflict upon captive ears.
“I am off to some estate with an unpronounceable name, somewhere to the east of Dzerzhinsk.”
Octavia had not a clue as to where that was.
“As for my employers, I am to be tutor to the only son of a Russian nobleman and his English wife.”
Mrs. Phillips clucked in sympathy. “Oh dear, you must have been rather desperate to take on such a position. It sounds like an awfully daunting prospect.”
He merely smiled. “Challenges are what make life interesting. Don’t you agree, Miss Hadley?”
Octavia had had quite enough of his company. “If you two will excuse me, I should like to finish the chapter of the book I am reading before supper.”
“And I think I shall see if I might find a cup of tea,” announced Mrs. Phillips, clearly feeling she had learned as much as she was going to learn.
“Good day, Mrs. Phillips.” Alex made a polite bow to the older lady. “And good day, Miss Hadley. A pleasure conversing with you.” There was a twinkle in those cursed blue eyes. ”Perhaps, given our mutual interests, we will run into each other during the course of our stay in Russia.”
Not bloody likely.Not if she had any say in the matter.
Alex watchedthe sway of Octavia’s shapely hips as she retreated towards the main hatchway. He was quite aware that certain other parts of her anatomy were just as attractive. Despite being thoroughly cupshot, he had not failed to notice the feel of her firm, rounded breasts crushed against his chest, or the lush softness of that expressive mouth—that is, when it wasn’t too occupied hurling some scathing set-down at him.
He could hardly blame her. He had not exactly made the best of first impressions. His lips curled in a rueful grimace as he recalled his appalling behavior. He truly wasn’t in the habit of groping unwilling females, especially innocent ones, even in his most intoxicated state. It was the storm. He hadn’t been ona boat in ten years, not since that fateful day with Jack. The crash of the first wave had brought a flood of terrible memories, and no amount of brandy had been able to drown them out. He didn’t know what he would have done if he hadn’t been able to touch someone real, someone warm.
She had, however unwittingly, helped keep his personal demons at bay, and for that Alex was grateful.
Actually, he was more than grateful. He was curious.
