Page 19 of Dimitri
"Absolutely not," she told him firmly. "You were up until this morning, and you need to relax. We did not ask you here to become a slave." She peered at him. "Why don't you go for a ride? You look a little peaked."
He smiled wryly and picked up his cup. "You're certainly brutal in your honesty."
She did not smile back but continued to stare at him anxiously. "I hope you're not coming down with anything."
"I am, how do you say? As healthy as a horse. I'm just a bit tired. The party was quite taxing."
Picking up her cup, she eyed him thoughtfully. "You left for almost half an hour. About the time Allison left. Where did you go?"
"To get some fresh air," he shrugged. "Your female guests were getting irritating."
She smiled then. "Can you blame them? You're a handsome man." She sipped her tea. "What do you think of Allison? I noticed you spent some time with her."
"As well as several others." For some reason, he did not want her to know of his interest in the woman. He was still trying to figure things out himself without adding his grandmother's interest to the mix. What had taken place with Allison last night would remain between them for now. "I received several invitations tovarious functions." He did not bother to mention the ones he had received to their beds.
"I want you to socialize."
"I've done enough to last a lifetime. I'm cutting back." He finished his coffee and pushed back his chair. "Would you excuse me Babushka?" he asked politely and came around to kiss her on the cheek. "I think I will check on the patient and see what he's up to."
"See to it that he eats as well. I sent up a tray."
"I will do so."
She watched as he left the room, a thoughtful expression on her face. He did not want to divulge, and she knew enough about him now, not to pry. But she had seen the way he looked at Allison and was certain that when he left the party, it was to go after her.
He had stayed out long enough and came back in looking slightly disheveled and bewildered. He had also managed to avoid the young ladies lining up to be with him. His interest in the party had waned right after.
Smiling slightly, she put away her cup and reached for her fruits.
*****
"I can just bet she sent you to check on me." Alvin was seated by the large bay window, facing the barns, a quilted comforter thrown over his legs. His hair was tousled, and he was still wearing his black velvet pajamas. He also looked frail.
"She wants to make certain you're partaking of your meal." Seeing it on the glossy mahogany table in front of him, Dimitri pulled up a chair and handed his grandfather the cup of tea. "I promised to sit here until you clear the plate."
He grumbled but took the cup and started drinking.
"You should still be in bed."
"I'm yet to become accustomed to the difference in time. My body is still in Russia."
"Do you have trouble sleeping?" Unconsciously, Alvin accepted the tray and started on the eggs and crispy bacon.
"Sometimes, yes. It's getting better. How are you feeling?"
"Stupid. It's just a head cold and will go away shortly. Your grandmother likes to fuss."
"I cannot say I blame her. You work too hard. Right now, you're thinking about heading out." He nodded towards the window. A pale sun was valiantly trying to filter through the thick gray clouds.
"You know me too well," he sighed and polished off the eggs. His stomach was revolting, but he knew that if he did not try to make a dent in the meal, his wife would be on him like a magnet. She was very tenacious. "The farm is my life."
"And there comes a time to slow things down." Picking up the pot, he poured some more tea and nudged the cup towards the old man.
"You're as bad as your grandmother," he murmured but took the cup and cradled it between his palms. His gaze went towards the window and from his vantage point, he could see rolling hills covered by snow and trees waving in the breeze. The men were already out, going about their duties.
There would be eggs to collect, cows to milk, because their cook still used the milk straight from the cows' udders to whip up fancy pastries. The place operated with limited hands as most of the others were off for the day.
"Your mother was the best rider I ever saw in all my years of straddling the saddle." His voice was whimsical, expression faraway. "Since she could barely walk, she wanted to ride. And she was graceful, one with the horse."
