Free The Frost of Springtime by Rachel L. Demeter Page B

Rue Saint-Honoré.”
    The driver dipped his head in understanding. The walls seemed to shrink
as Aleksender tugged the door shut and claimed a seat beside Sofia. After a
moment, he pounded the rooftop with his fist and sent the coach rolling into
motion.
    Scone lanterns flashed across the scarlet walls, bathing the lush
interior with gentle glows. The wide expanse of Aleksender’s shoulders filled
the space with ease. Each bump in the road connected their bodies together—and
each collision made Aleksender’s cheeks a flaming red. He adjusted his posture,
attempting to erect a barrier between him and Sofia without luck.
    Dark curls tumbled down and over her shoulders as she pulled back her
hood. Aleksender studied her beautiful profile, allowing a comfortable silence
to fill the coach.
    Sofia swept the curtain aside and glanced into the empty and dimly lit
streets. Beyond the coach’s scarlet curtains, a father and son waded through
the darkness in a protective huddle. Mindful of their seedy surroundings, the
man shielded his boy with a watchful eye and sturdy hand to the shoulder. Sofia
eased against the upholstery. A cloud formed within the pit of her chest and
shadowed her heart. She bowed her head, aching with multitudes of pain.
Unbeknown to her, the subtle motion sent a tear rolling down the slope of her
cheek.
    “Sofia?”
    “Yes?”
    Aleksender closed the space between them without a moment’s hesitation.
He lightly touched her chin and rotated her face toward his own. Worry creased
his brow as his eyes deepened in concern. His thumb pad massaged the arch of
her chin in slow, tentative circles. “What is it, ma petit? You know it pains
me to see you cry.”
    She smiled at Aleksender’s words and took his hands in a solid grasp.
She stared down at their united grip, thumbs drawing invisible circles along
the cool silk of his glove.
    “My Alek, I … I’m so sorry.” She smiled though her tears and continued
to caress his hand. A whirlwind of curls slid down her shoulders, framing her
body with the elegance of a gossamer shawl. “You know that I loved your father
dearly. And you meant the world to him.”
    Aleksender wrapped an arm around her slender shoulders and tugged Sofia
firmly against his body. “You truly are an angel.”
    She peered up at him. Their faces were intimately close—mere inches
away—mouths sharing the same intakes of air. “All those months I thought I’d
lost you.” Sofia gazed into her lap as her complexion turned a ghostly white.
“Our parting was nearly my death,” she confided through an unsteady whisper.
    Aleksender swallowed and shook his face. “You could never lose me. Never.”
    Sofia tightened her grasp on Aleksender’s hand. “Sometimes I fear I
shall wake up and you’ll still be gone.” Freeing him, she turned away and
stared into the black of night. “And when I imagine what you went through, the
things you must have seen …”
    Aleksender settled against the backing with a low groan. He removed his
top hat and laid it in the cradle of his lap. Meddling absently with the stiff
velvet, he said, “I had lay awake many of those nights, thinking of you. What
you were doing. Whether you were safe. Being so far
away—knowing that Paris was under siege, that I had no way to protect you—it
was easily the worst part.”
    Sofia smiled at his words and fiercely swiped at her tear-stained
cheeks. “Well. I daresay Sacred Heart was one of the safest places in all of
France.”
    Aleksender nodded and exhaled a sigh of relief. “That’s what I’d
depended on.”
    “So in a way, even though you weren’t here, you still had protected
me.”
    Sofia’s palm slid across the upholstery. Her pulse leapt to life as she
threaded their fingers together. Beyond the window, the world crept by in a
steady blur. And, for the two of them, the light of Paris appeared brighter
than ever before.

CHAPTER
SIX
    Although Rue
Saint-Honoré lay on the outskirts of the city, it seemed