If I Had You (21 page)

“Will you take this note to Mrs. Marvin, please?” Alecia said on Monday morning, handing her letter to a bellboy. Ivan stood beside her, surveying the Grand Russe's Grand Hall automatically, a habit he'd developed during his employment. “Make sure she opens it?”

The boy, no more than fourteen, nodded.

“You'll be in the Coffee Room?” Ivan asked. He didn't want to lose her the way she'd lost her sister. “And you won't leave the hotel without me?”

“Yes, I'll wait for Sybil, or you, or both,” Alecia promised.

“Very good. I'll try to get in to see Mr. Eyre.”

“Good luck.” Alecia smiled and kissed his cheek.

Oddly enough, the kiss made him feel more engaged than anything else. He'd asked Mr. Loudon for permission to marry Alecia and her grandfather had agreed, assuming he had the means to support her. But that was nothing compared to a simple, wifely kiss. He wished she still had a room so he could whisk her upstairs.

Instead, he merely said, “I'll see you in a bit, darling.”

Her face lit when she heard the endearment. She squeezed his arm before walking away, but, sweetly, she looked back. He nodded at her, then whistled as he went to the reception desk to plead his case.

“Mr. Moth,” Ivan said, spying the front desk clerk, who sorted the post for the guests at the rear counter.

He turned around and grinned. “Mr. Salter! I didn't expect to have the pleasure of seeing you again.”

Ivan nodded, feeling too solemn now to smile. “I wondered if I might have a word with Mr. Eyre? It's important.”

Mr. Moth put his hands on the desk and folded them. “He is in this morning. I'll speak to him for you. Problem with your pay?”

“No,” Ivan said.

Moth stared at him for a moment, losing his smile. “Very well. None of my business.” He turned and opened the door into the inner recesses, then disappeared.

Teddy Fortress, the film star, came up, whistling and rubbing his gloved hands together. “Dreadful weather, what, what?” he said in the manner of an Indian Army major from the previous century. “Think it will blizzard?”

“No, sir,” Ivan said. “I do not.”

Mr. Fortress chuckled. “Not going to humor me? You're one of the Russians?”

“Night watchman.”

“Yes. I've seen a new one prowling around here. Very close-set eyes, like a film villain. He ought to take a screen test.”

“Is he behaving suspiciously, or is it just his appearance?” Ivan asked.

Fortress shrugged. “He's a watchman. He watches. I'm a night owl, always have been, and he's poking about every time I turn around, it seems. Not the worst thing for a watchman.”

“No, but we have our assigned floors. If you're keeping your wanderings to one or two floors you would see him a lot. Otherwise—”

“So you're saying, old boy, that I shouldn't see this watchman on every floor?”

“Correct. Are you?”

Fortress nodded, concern narrowing his eyes. “Exceeded his brief, I take it.”

“He's new,” Ivan said as the concierge gave Fortress his key and a package.

“Ah, this must be the new scenario. Thank you.” Fortress nodded at the concierge. “Listen, Mr.—”

“Salter.”

“Salter, then. You tell your guv about the new watchman, will you? I don't want to make enemies among the staff.”

“Of course, sir.”

Fortress walked away, swinging his cane jauntily. Hugh Moth looked alarmed when he returned from the back room.

“Did Mr. Fortress get what he needed?”

“Yes, Mr. Russell handed him his key, but he gave me a message for Mr. Eyre.”

Moth laughed. “Working every angle, Salter? Very well, you can go back.”

Ivan took that to mean he already had permission, but a little extra insurance never hurt. He lifted the partition and walked through, trying to saunter more calmly than he really felt. He wished he had a prayer rope to worry at. His mother's grandfather had fiddled with one constantly when he was a child. He hadn't thought of the man in years. A pity. He'd been a very old man when Ivan was a child, dying close to twenty years ago now.

Ivan straightened his back, remembering all the years of good breeding behind him, and walked into Peter Eyre's office.

Eyre was, as always, lighting a cigarette when Ivan entered. Ivan noticed a jeweled box on top of a wood file cabinet, winking in the light streaming in from a dormer window. The box was of Indian design. Come to think of it, Eyre's skin had a dark flush not common in Englishmen, despite his blond hair and aristocratic mien. Had he a touch of foreign blood?

“What do you want, Salter?” Eyre asked, picking a fleck of tobacco off his lip.

“I just spoke to Teddy Fortress. Sounds like Anatoly Smirnov is casing the place more than watching it.”

Eyre leaned back in his chair, clearly on alert in a lazy, panther-like way. “How did you know your replacement's name?”

“He's involved in the plot against this hotel. I'm the only one who can recognize these people. You're letting death enter your hotel.”

“My hotel?”

“I think I know who you are.” Ivan gambled as he pointed at the box. “You're related to the family, right? I remember one of the owners of the old hotel had a half-Indian wife.”

“No one thinks I have foreign blood,” Eyre said, blowing smoke out of the side of his mouth.

“I do,” Ivan said. “And I don't care. I'm an immigrant myself. You want to keep your secret? That is fine with me. You want to mistreat your mistress? That is fine with me. But I don't want this hotel to die. It's too important to the hard-working, honest Russian community.”

“You damaged Richard Marvin's face.”

“You and I both know that the Marvins will be leaving the hotel as soon as the command performance is over. They can't afford to stay, given Sybil's career misfortune. But if Ovolensky dies here, it will be a disaster for both the hotel and the British government.”

Eyre set his half-smoked cigarette in his old ashtray. Gray smoke drifted in a thin line across his desk.

The room reeked of old ash. Normally it was aired daily, but Eyre must have been spending too much time in here for it to be cleaned, a sign of trouble.

Ivan leaned forward and put his forearms on the desk. “Let me help you, man. I can see the strain you are under. I'm the only one who can help.”

“Why?” Eyre's narrow face seemed to be nothing but his startlingly clear, hazel-green eyes.

Ivan's jaw twitched, but he spoke without emotion. “Because my sister is involved.”

Eyre sat back in his chair and lifted his face to the ceiling. “Bloody hell. The threat against the command performance is real?”

“Indeed.”

“Man-to-man, you and I have very complicated families,” Eyre said, then smiled suddenly. “I'm almost glad for this, you know, Ivan? I like you.” He stood and extended his hand. “Welcome aboard.”

Ivan stood and took the proffered hand. “Thank you, sir.”

“Smirnov is on your own shift.”

“But he's wandering the hotel instead of staying to his assigned floors.”

Eyre scowled. “I'll say I hired you back for an extra patrol on the seventh. That way the staff knows I expect you not to run into Richard Marvin.”

“Brilliant.” As long as Georgy didn't see him. He'd have to be careful.

“But that is not your brief, of course. You need to watch Smirnov.” He hesitated. “I'd like to sack him, though. I can, given what Teddy Fortress told you.”

“Might be best to keep our enemies close for now.”

“What is our best defense?”

Ivan thought quickly. “A last-minute change of location for the command performance. If we come to the end game, we need to clear the first floor and do the performance somewhere else.”

“Any ideas?”

Ivan smiled. “The nightclub. It's perfect.”

Eyre nodded. “After this is over, if we both survive, we'll have to discuss your career prospects. Underneath that thick accent you have a sharp brain.”

“Thank you, sir. One more thing, if you don't mind.”

“Yes?”

“Do you know if Sadie Loudon ever arrived at the Grand Russe to start the position you promised her sister?”

“Not to my knowledge,” Eyre said. “Check with Olga to be sure. Why?”

“She speaks with her grandfather every Sunday, but she didn't yesterday. The family is concerned.”

Eyre fiddled with a small elephant figurine that always stood next to his battered ashtray. “Unfortunate, but she is young. I'll let you know if I run across her.”

“Thank you. I won't take any more of your time.” He rose, surprised that Eyre did as well, and offered his hand. They shook, then Eyre leaned forward, still holding Ivan's hand.

“Keep my hotel safe, Ivan,” Eyre said, his voice low with passion. “You are now as responsible for it as I am.”

Ivan slowly pulled his hand away, matching the other man's gaze. “I understand.”

He walked out of the office, for the first time feeling like the soldier he'd never been.

* * *

Alecia anxiously scanned the door of the Coffee Room as she drank her coffee. The room seemed so decadent to her now. Despite the refurbishment, it had a hint of fin de siècle to her, now that she knew the hotel was at risk. When Sybil appeared in the front door, carefully framing herself in the doorway in a triangular fringed dress, nostalgia blew through her.

Sybil Marvin, who'd seemed such a vision to her a month ago, looked tired and haggard. She saw Alecia and firmed her mouth. Her shoulders straightened. Alecia could see the woman taking on a role, and she didn't like the look of things.

Her former employer walked up to her, hips swinging. Two fortyish businessmen at a table by the service area stared in frank amusement.

Sybil paused by Alecia's shoulder.

“Please do sit down,” Alecia said in her sweetest voice. “You are making a scene and what I have to say is private.”

“I should say so,” Sybil snarled as she sat down. “The least you can do, darling, is fetch me a cup of coffee.”

“You look more like you need hair of the dog,” Alecia responded. “But I'll see what I can do.”

“I wouldn't say no to champagne.”

“That is more of a problem than a solution, don't you think?”

A
lecia went to fetch Sybil coffee from the Coffee Room's sideboard. She didn't care if the woman had a headache. What she had to say would only give her former employer a fresh one.

After she'd poured coffee and placed a piece of shortbread beside the cup on the saucer, she brought it back to Sybil and placed it in front of her.

“I never eat sweets.” Sybil pushed the plate away.

“Liar,” Alecia said, calmly moving the plate back into place.

“I know the story now, Alecia,” Sybil said with a huff. “You made advances on Richard.”

“Not true,” Alecia said.

“No, you did. Apparently it was all for show, because you only went so far. But you had my poor husband so beside himself that he kept going.” Sybil fluttered her hands in the air. “You can't say no after you say yes. Consequences ensue. Virgins don't know this, of course.”

“All of that is a lie. He attacked me, which you knew very well when last we spoke.”

“Mr. Marvin has been offered a contract with the movie studio,” Sybil said, staring at her coffee cup. “It's a new start for both of us.”

“Since your career has fallen apart?” Alecia paused. “Why does losing this one role affect you so? You'd been offered a starring role. There will be others. Your career is far from over.”

“I'm getting old.”

“Self-pity,” Alecia said briskly. “Too much alcohol and not enough food. Don't let Richard bully you, Sybil. If he's making a lot of money you can go somewhere and rest.”

“You seem very sure of yourself now.”

“I'm going to marry Ivan.”

Sybil smiled sourly. “Afraid his eye will roam? I thought he'd lost his position too.”

“I have a feeling he can retrieve it.”

“You can't retrieve yours, Alecia. I'm sorry, whatever the truth is. I can believe both sides of the story.”

“Must be a useful skill for an actress.” Alecia finished off the dregs in her coffee cup, not knowing when she'd eat again that day.

Sybil's gaze lost focus. “Why don't you come to the performance? Who knows if I'll ever play Lady Macbeth again.”

“Be careful, Sybil. Your husband has mixed himself up with some unsavory company.”

“I know the movie industry has its downside,” Sybil said. “But really, Alecia.”

“I meant the woman,” Alecia said, bending forward. She picked up the shortbread and broke it in half. “Here Sybil, eat this.”

Sybil stared at the shortbread, then took it. “His mistress? What about her?”

“She's dangerous,” Alecia said. “I don't know the full story, but it isn't good, Sybil. I'm worried about you. The tighter the rein you can keep on Richard, the better. I don't care about him, but I wouldn't want you to be hurt.”

“That's very kind. I am sorry you can't stay with me. We were friends for a little while, weren't we?” Sybil stared at the shortbread, then pushed the entire piece into her mouth.

“Yes, we were,” Alecia said. “I never had more fun in the shops than I did with you.”

Movement caught the corner of her eye. She looked up and saw Ivan gesturing to her. She set the other half piece of shortbread back on Sybil's plate, then patted her on the shoulder and walked away.

* * *

“Did you talk to Mr. Eyre?” Alecia asked as she joined him just outside the Coffee Room's majestic two-story entrance.

Ivan could scarcely keep himself from reaching for Alecia and swinging her around. She would be so proud of him. “Yes, I have my position again.”

“I'm so happy for you.” She touched his sleeve demurely, but he saw her face brighten.

Now, on to the less-than-good news. “Thank you, but it isn't all good news. Your sister probably has not been here, but we need to check with Olga. She's on the seventh floor, so let's speak with her.”

“What about Ovolensky?” she asked in a low voice.

He'd thought about that. “He won't be here. He'll be in meetings. I doubt they'd have maids cleaning otherwise.”

“Then we should go.”

Her smile looked forced as they went to the service lift. “What's wrong?”

“I'm so happy you have your position back, but I didn't retrieve mine.”

“You never thought you would. I wouldn't allow it, not under the circumstances.” He opened the gate so she could enter, then closed it behind himself.

“I know it's unsafe, it's just that . . .” She worried her lower lip, then licked it. He noticed they were chapped from the winter weather. Still, the unconsciously sensual gesture made him harden.

He smiled at her, then backed her up against the wall of the lift.

“What?”

He bent his head and nuzzled her ear. “I can't wait until we have some privacy again.”

“When is that going to happen? We won't even be in the same city.”

He deflated a bit. “We are together now.”

She lifted her eyebrows as the lift jerked to a stop. “We don't have any privacy.”

“I could take you back to Boris's flat.”

“I have to find my sister.”

Her mouth pinched. He knew he had to stop teasing and focus. “Very well.” He opened the gate and stepped out, glad he still wore his old overcoat.

Olga was in Miss Page's bedroom. The centerpiece of the room was a jade and gold fireplace. Thick rugs covered the carpet and a large bed heaped with blankets dominated the space. Ivan gestured to Alecia, then closed the door behind him.

“What is it?” Olga asked in Russian, running a duster over ornate vases lining the mantelpiece. Her cap was slightly askew on her thick, shiny hair.

“If I might ask a question?” Alecia asked.

Olga gestured impatiently, then emptied an ashtray into her can.

“Have you met my sister, Sadie? Mr. Eyre offered her a position as a chambermaid here, but our grandfather hasn't heard from her in over a week.”

“No. I have heard of no one by that name.”

“What do you think of the new night watchman?” Ivan asked.

Olga snorted. “Intelligentsia. No work ethic, that one. Always lurking around corners, leaning on the wall.”

“Did you know him before?”

“No. Why should I?”

“No reason. But, Olga.” Ivan paused. “Stay away from the command performance, will you?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Ovolensky is a target,” he said. “I'd hate for you to be hurt.”

She snorted. “Ovolensky is a tool of the politburo. I have no trouble with him being shot.”

“The original plan was a bomb, not a gun,” Ivan said.

She swore in Russian, but the former princess had long since lost her gentility in the hard life she'd lived since. “Those fools.”

“One of those fools is my sister Vera.”

“That does not surprise me. I have heard of your sister Catherine.”

“Vera idolizes her memory.”

“Catherine did try to assassinate Lenin. I can sympathize.”

“I don't know what her motives were,” Ivan said. “I was still at school.”

Olga pushed a stray ash-blond tendril out of one eye. “It is difficult for you. There is a pull between the struggle to free Russia and the struggle to keep your family intact.”

“There is no struggle,” Ivan said with complete assurance. “My family comes first.”

“Very well. My staff will not interfere.” She glanced at Alecia. “If your sister comes here, do you want me to turn her away in light of the danger?”

“No. Get word to Ivan. Tell her to wait in the Coffee Room if you think she'd be allowed in there.”

Olga nodded. “I wish you both luck. Sisters are difficult. I don't know if my sister is even alive. She went to China and I've never heard what happened to her.”

“I am so sorry,” Alecia said.

“Sisters seem to be the bane of all of us,” Olga said. She made a shooing motion with her hands. “Now, go. I have a great deal of work to do.”

“Don't trust Anatoly Smirnov,” Ivan said. “He's part of the conspiracy.”

Olga nodded. “If Ovolensky is to be assassinated at the command performance, I will make sure all of my girls are far away.”

* * *

“Could you do this work?” Ivan asked Alecia as they turned away.

“I'm not too proud,” she assured him as they walked through the suite. “But Mr. Eyre said no when I asked. He thought I should take a secretarial position somewhere in the City.”

“We'd never see each other,” Ivan said. “With me working nights and you working days.”

She lifted her hands, palms up. “He said no.”

He turned back to nod at Olga, then opened the suite door, happy to be out in the corridor, away from the heavy smell of perfume and some odd kind of tobacco.

“Now what?” he asked, after Alecia had followed him out.

“I need to go to the hotel where Sadie was working and see what they know.”

“A wise idea. I'll go with you.”

“I think you should attempt to see your sister,” Alecia said. “I'll be fine looking for Sadie alone.”

“Meet me at Boris's house at tea time,” he suggested.

“I should return to Bagshot.”

“You can take the late train. I'll leave you there and continue on to work.”

She nodded. “I'm going to find work in London as soon as possible.”

“I do think an office is better than some kind of domestic work,” he said. “What if you wind up in a situation where we can't ever see each other? If you hadn't been living in the hotel, the Marvins would have never allowed you to see me.”

“I'll find something.”

“I wish you could wait for me. When I'm stable again, we can marry. You won't have to work.”

“That's only if you aren't supporting your sister.” She ran her hand along his arm. “I don't want you to be fatalistic about her.”

His stomach ached. “She and her fiancé are so easily misled.”

“Hate clouds the mind. She needs spiritual guidance,” Alecia said. “She needs to let your parents go.”

He felt a wave of anger. “How? Have you let your parents go?”

“I'm not perfect,” she admitted.

He couldn't let it go. “Would you befriend a German?” he demanded. “After they killed your parents?”

“It was wartime.”

No, she couldn't do it
, Ivan thought.
And if she met the captain of the U-boat that sank the
Lusitania
, she'd probably want to shoot him too
. “You befriend a German and then you can judge my sister.”

She stared at him a moment. “I need to find a train out to that hotel. It's somewhere between here and Bagshot. The Richmond Inn.”

“Then it is most likely in Richmond itself.”

“Precisely.”

They glared at each other. “The concierge will set you to rights.”

“An excellent idea.”

“Very well. We'll return to the lobby and then go our separate ways for now.” He knew he sounded petulant.

“I can continue on to Bagshot after I go to Richmond. I'll be halfway there already.”

“Don't you want to return here?”

She shook her head. “There isn't anywhere for me to stay, Ivan. We aren't married yet.”

“I can't bear not seeing you.”

She blinked hard. “Oh, Ivan. I'll work very hard to find a position here. As soon as you have this Ovolensky business behind you, we can plan better. We'll sort it out.”

“I can't offer you a comfortable vicarage.”

“It's just you I want. Only there are a few things to take care of first.”

He smiled. “My parents would have liked you. My mother said I needed a girl who could stand up to me.”

She kissed his cheek and went to the reception desk. He watched her as she moved. No expensive, perfectly cut clothes for her, but it didn't matter. She was the most beautiful woman in the entire hotel.

* * *

Alecia stepped down from the train at Richmond. She'd been told the inn where her sister worked was just two blocks away. The station here looked its age and the entire area seemed run-down, though she'd thought generally that Richmond, which included a royal palace, was quite upscale. She supposed tourists didn't care what the train station looked like.

She pulled up her coat lapel to hide her neck from the biting wind and walked north to the inn. While grateful to open the door and let herself in a few minutes later, she wasn't pleased by what she saw. The inn was tiny compared to the Grand Russe. Never had she been so aware that the hotel she thought of as hers had been newly renovated. Here, some of the tiles making up the checkerboard floor were cracked. She didn't think any amount of polish would make the battered reception desk shine.

“Can I help you, miss?” asked a tired, middle-aged man in a shapeless black suit, coming up to her.

“Who are you?”

“The hall porter, miss. Old Ben is what they call me. Did you need a room?”

“I was looking for my sister. Sadie Loudon?”

The porter ran his fingers over his salt-and-pepper mustache. “Ah, that Sadie.”

Alecia waited as Old Ben looked to be lost in reverie. Eventually, he lifted his eyebrows. “Gave no notice, did she. Just ran off.”

“Are you sure she ran off?”

He scratched his chin. “There was an incident.”