Spring Fires Read Online Free

better finish up before Pierre returns to fetch these."
    His eyes lit up at this. "Pierre is coming? Bon Dieu, it will be wonderful to see that old elf. Do you know, I've been gone ten years... and it suddenly seems a lifetime."
    She regarded him from the corner of her eye as she assembled the last torte. He certainly did sound authentic. "I don't think you will find your family much changed. Have you been in touch?"
    "Letters, yes—until a few months ago, when I was forced to leave my chateau for Paris. I've been duly informed of all the births, weddings... and the death of dear Grandmere last year." He perched on the edge of the table and stared into the fire. As she spread icing flavored with orange peel, Lisette's eyes wandered over Nicholai Beauvisage. There was a chiseled strength about his profile that was very unlike the description Katya had given of her brother. Fun loving, easygoing, vulnerable—those were the adjectives people had used in reference to the younger Beauvisage brother. But it was obvious that the decade he had spent in France had carved out a very different man. The lines of his body were steely; muscles and tendons showed in his bronzed neck and were outlined beneath the clothes that concealed the rest of his body. All outward signs of a harder inner man, Lisette thought.
    "You are staring, mademoiselle," Nicholai told her sardonically. "Do you find me odd looking?"
    The last torte was done; Lisette put the wooden spoon into an empty bowl and gave him a wry smile. "Not at all, Mr. Beauvisage. I was thinking that, although you may not see many changes in your family, I'll wager that they will be surprised by the transformation you have undergone!"

 
     
     
    Chapter 4

     
    March 25, 1793
     
    While waiting for Pierre to arrive, Nicholai Beauvisage worked up a craving for Lisette. Six long weeks had passed since he had bedded a woman, whose face he had already forgotten. It was his experience in France that females of the serving class were eager to please men of breeding and grateful for the attention. Smoothly, he eased into a more charming attitude. He began to compliment Lisette and look for excuses to touch her.
    She, however, did not respond in the expected manner. Instead of becoming a shy coquette, the chit turned wary and cool. After receiving a second barbed set-down, Nicholai traded charm for bluntness.
    "Hasn't anyone troubled to teach you manners?" he demanded.
    Lisette was washing the bowls. Not bothering to look up, she retorted, "My dear Mr. Beauvisage, I see no reason to be polite to a man who wants something from me that he could pay for on the docks."
    "Your tongue is sharp," he muttered in a menacing tone.
    "What do you expect? You would like it if I batted my eyes at you and unfastened my gown, wouldn't you? You've a lot of nerve, questioning my manners! Would you be trying to charm me into your bed if I were one of the ladies dancing in the parlor?"
    Her cheeks were flushed with anger and Nicholai's face
    hardened at her insults, but before either of them could speak again, Pierre burst in.
    "Mon Dieu!" he cried. "The tortes! I have been so busy!" The little white-haired valet scurried toward the confections that lined the table, but halted in mid-step and seemed to freeze. His mouth gaped for several seconds before he managed to croak, "M'sieur Nicky! Can this be? Are you a ghost?"
    The younger, much taller man came forward with a grin to embrace Pierre. "Christ, but it's good to see a familiar face! You look just the same!"
    As much as both men would have enjoyed a leisurely conversation, time did not allow it. Nicholai needed a bath and a suit of clothes before he would venture into the party and the reunion with his family. Lisette solved several problems by insisting that she would transfer the tortes to the house while Pierre prepared the bath and hunted down a suit for Nicholai's use.
    A blanket was strung up across a back corner of the kitchen, a copper bathtub