could offer her just then, if he ever could. She deserved a younger man, someone to grow up with and laugh with, and share all her memories with. And yet, he wanted to put his arms around her and promise that nothing would ever hurt her again.
He took them for a drive when she put her photographs away, and when they stopped to walk in the park, he watched her playing with Sava on the grass, as the puppy leapt and barked, while Zoya ran laughing and almost collided with him. Without thinking, he put his arms around her and held her close to him, and she looked up at him, laughing like the child he'd seen in the photographs. Evgenia watched them both, and feared what was to come.
When he brought them home again, Evgenia thanked him and looked at him quietly as Zoya went to give Sava to Feodor. “Think carefully, Captain. What for you may be only an interlude could change my granddaughter's life. Be wise, I beg of you … and above all … be kind.”
“What did you say to him just then, Grandmama?” Zoya asked when he had left them.
“I thanked him for the apple tart, and invited him to visit us again,” Evgenia said calmly as she put their cups away.
“That's all? He looked so serious, as though you'd said something important to him. And he didn't smile when he said good-bye.”
“Perhaps he's thinking about all this, little one.” And then, carefully, “He's really far too old for you.”
“It doesn't matter to me. He's such a nice man.”
“Yes, he is.” Evgenia nodded quietly, hoping silently that he would be nice enough not to call again. Zoya was too much at risk with him, and if she fell in love with him, what then? It could prove to be disastrous.
CHAPTER
17
Evgenia's prayers that Clayton Andrews would not return were not destined to be answered. After trying to stay away from her for a week, he found himself constantly thinking of her, obsessed with her eyes … her hair … the way she laughed … the way he had watched her play with Sava … even the photographs she had shown him of the family of the Tsar seemed to haunt him. She had made them real to him, and now instead of a tragic figure of history the Tsar had become a man, with a wife, a family, and three dogs, and Clayton found himself mourning the enormity of his losses as he sat imprisoned in his home in Tsarskoe Selo.
And as he thought of her all week, Zoya also found herself constantly thinking of Clayton.
He reappeared at Zoya's home this time, and not the ballet, and with her grandmother's permission, took her to see The Merry Widow. She returned to excitedly tell her grandmother all of it, barely stopping for breath, as Clayton laughed and poured champagne. He had brought them a bottle of Cristal which he poured into crystal glasses. Without wanting to offend them, he found himself constantly wanting to make things easier for them, and bring them the little niceties he knew they missed and no longer had, warm blankets which he insisted had been “given” to him, a set of glasses, a lace tablecloth, and even a pretty little bed for Sava.
Evgenia knew by then that Clayton was badly smitten, as was Zoya. They went for long walks in the park, had lunch at little cafés, as Clayton explained the passing uniforms to her, the Zouaves, the English and Americans in khaki, the “poilus” in their pale blue coats, and even the Chasseurs d'Afrique. They talked of everything from ballet to babies. Zoya still insisted that one day she wanted six children, the thought of which made him laugh.
“Why six?”
“I don't know.” She shrugged with a happy smile. “I prefer even numbers.” She shared her last letter from Marie, it spoke of Tatiana falling ill again, though not seriously this time, and Nagorny being so faithful and kind to Alexis. He never left his side now.“… And Papa is so good to all of us. He keeps everyone feeling strong and happy and cheerful …” It was difficult to imagine and it tore at Clayton's heart as he listened. But they spoke of far more than the Tsar's family when they met, they spoke of all their passions and interests and dreams.
It was a magical and lovely summer for Zoya. Whenever Zoya wasn't dancing, Clayton seemed to be there, amusing her,