Here comes the last installment. Again you have to read most of the chapter with closed eyes, unless you're brave enough to face M-rated content! Thanks to gemenied who risked her eyesight by editing this!

Enjoy and happy weekend!

Part 4

After lunch Violet used the chance and had a lie-down. After a rather sleepless and undoubtedly energy sapping night, she needed some rest. But unfortunately, sleep didn't come as a peaceful friend. Her dreams took her back to the one fateful night in St. Petersburg when the Princess had foiled Igor's and her plan to elope. The cold, the pain and the tears felt so real that Violet was glad when her maid woke her up and allowed her to return to reality.

"Are you quite well, Milady?" the maid asked worriedly when she noticed the cold sweat on Violet's forehead.

Violet who felt still a bit disorientated sat up and drew a deep breath. "I think so, yes... a bad dream, no more."

"Do you want some tea?"

"Perhaps that would be a good idea," she answered. "And could you run me a bath?"

"Of course, Milady."

The maid excused herself to get the tea while Violet sank back into her pillow and closed her eyes. Igor's look when she had told him she would be content to be his mistress still haunted her. She knew she had hurt him, but she had once risked everything to be with him and she had almost paid for it with her dignity, her reputation and her family. She wouldn't do so again, all she could do was to make the most of the time they were given.

After dinner, Violet and the other women went into the salon, while the men stayed in the dining room for port and cigars. This evening Violet felt a lot more relaxed and was able to enjoy the exquisite food and the wine. To her surprise Lord Hepworth had learned to behave himself. He still gave her curious glances and obviously hoped she would acknowledge him – which didn't happen - but he kept his distance.

On their way through the grand foyer, Marjorie took hold of Violet's arm and whispered, "Is it true that you enjoyed yourself this morning with our dashing Russian visitor?"

"It was only a hack," Violet answered, already annoyed. She had known before people would gossip about it, but she had hoped against hope Marjorie would leave her alone.

"Oh, you must tell me all about him! Archie says his wife's horrible! They told him she's a nasty, cold woman! A real hag who never lets the prince inside her bedroom!"

"As a matter of fact we didn't talk about his wife or her bedside manners," Violet replied coldly.

"Well, there are only two nights left," Marjorie said meaningfully. "That's your chance to find out, if the rumours about the Russian temper are true! Let me tell you, dear, the man is taken with you."

Violet rolled her eyes in annoyance. The last thing she could think of was telling a chatterbox like Marjorie how taken Igor really was with her.

"Why don't we play cards? You, him, Archie and me?" Violet's hostess suggested with a titillating chuckle. "Who knows what happens? He might start flirting with you!"

Knowing she would lose this battle anyway, Violet gave in. They played cards (which she knew he hated) and he sat vis-á-vis of her, avoiding every kind of eye contact or accidental touching, but the task was harder to accomplish than she had expected. During those hours that seemed to last forever, she realized she couldn't trust herself around him. His presence in the same room fuelled her longing for him that she could barely repress without becoming a flustered wreck. She tried brandy to calm her nerves, but the alcohol didn't help much and after Archie showed first signs of fatigue, Igor and she exchanged a quick glance. She saw the glitter in his eyes and noticed he needed to leave this room as much as she did.

Twenty years ago Igor Kuragin had introduced her to ways of love making that went beyond the missionary position she had been used to from her late husband. Every time good old Edward had visited her in her bedroom he had been on top and very often he had left, before she had reached any kind of physical or emotional satisfaction. Today she knew the Earl had loved her, but when it came to physical love he had not known what to do. The Earl who had been so self-assured and powerful within the community had been incredibly inside his own bedroom.

Even today, and after a half of dozen of lovers, it was still hard for her to name her fantasies, but with Igor she had found a man who wasn't too shy to tell her what he wanted, and who seemed to possess a sixth sense for her needs. Almost instinctively he allowed her to live out her dreams and in return she wanted to please him. She knew he liked it when she straddled him, so that he could touch, lick and kiss her breasts while she rocked against him. The position also agreed with her and he took pleasure in the way she enjoyed herself when she didn't feel restricted by conventions or prude expectations.

To him she was always beautiful, but even more so now, as she rode him slowly, but determined, her eyes closed and her auburn hair cascading over her shoulders.

Her rigid breathing told him, she was getting closer (she always climaxed so easily with him) and so he pulled her against him. He kissed her fiercely and absorbed her muffled cries. She had become quite vocal and he didn't want to risk someone hearing her. He placed his hands on her hips and stabilized her, as her movements became more and more uncontrolled. He wasn't quite ready yet, but he didn't mind. This night was far from over and he wanted to please her in every way he could.

Violet lay on her stomach, keeping her eyes closed, because she feared she would be torn out of her blissful contentment when she moved or spoke. She was exhausted, but more fulfilled than she had been in years.

Igor lay next to her, but he wasn't asleep either. He was tracing her spine with his fingertips, which caused delicious shivers all over her body. He had taken care of the fireplace and the small flames just spent enough light to illuminate her delicate features.

"Do you want to sleep?" he asked softly.

She denied with a low groan. "What time is it?"

"Almost four," he answered.

"I'll look a wreck tomorrow," she complained half-heartedly and moved slowly against him. He welcomed her with open arms and pulled her on top of him.

"You'll look splendid," he returned and brushed her lips with his. "Sated and content like a fed cat."

"Don't be so smug," she scolded him lightly.

"Oh, I think I have reason to be," he said, as he rolled her over. He gently stroked away some strands of her long hair and kissed her longingly. She returned the kiss with matching passion and ran her hands over his back and even lower. She squeezed him and was unable to hide a smile when she felt how aroused he was.

"So, who's being smug now?" he asked and kissed his way down her neck and collarbone. Violet closed her eyes, willing to accept the tender kisses and caresses. Her fingers ran through his hair as his mouth travelled further down and teased her breasts and nipples with his lips and tongue.

"Why do you always have to be so… attentive? Why can't you be like other men? Take what you want and leave…," she mumbled, her voice wavering a little with rising lust. Her question seemed to astonish him, because he raised his head.

"Why should I want such a thing?"

"To make it easier for both of us when we have to part," she replied.

He shook his head and let his hand caress where his mouth had left his mark earlier.

"Why should I make it easy to leave for the woman I love? What if I prefer her yearning for me every time she remembers me? What if I want her to want me, every time she thinks of sharing her bed with another man?"

"Isn't that quite brazen for a man who isn't even her husband?"

"Marriage is just paperwork," he answered nonchalantly without stopping to caress her.

"It's not that simple," she argued, but thanks to his wandering and quite distracting ministrations she started to lose track of their conversation. The heat in her core was spreading again.

"It is simple, my darling." He softly kissed her lips while his hand reached the inside of her thighs. She hissed when he started to caress her and buckled her hips.

"Do you love me?" he asked, as he slowly teased her with his thumb. His question surprised her, but she couldn't think straight enough to deny it.

"Yes." Her answer was nothing more than a hoarse whisper, but it brought a smile to his face.

"Then tell me," he prompted her tenderly. "I'd give my soul to hear it from you just this once."

With all the strength she could muster she forced her hand on his and stopped his deliberate caresses. She pushed him back on his back and moved on top of him. Then she cupped his face with both of her hands and kissed him tenderly. "I do love you," she whispered and rested her forehead against his.

"That gives me reason to hope," he returned lowly, his voice unstable.

"To hope for what?"

"I won't give up. One day you'll be mine."

She smiled upon his declaration, cherished it even, but knew it was nothing but a fantasy, a dream that wouldn't come true.

"Would you be content with me being yours for this and tomorrow night?" she asked. "Because for me these three nights have been more than I could ever hope for."

He kissed her again and she straightened up. Her hand found the way between them and touched his aroused member, causing him to groan.

There was one hour left before the servants would start the fires and he had to sneak back into his own room. One hour before she had wait for the next night to begin and she wanted them to make the most of it.

London, two months later

Violet was bored out of her mind, as she stood in the corner of the ballroom and the glass of champagne in her hand was getting warm. The dancing hadn't started yet, but she doubted the music would help to raise her spirits. The year before she had skipped the season, because she had been in mourning and this year was her first without being married, ever since she had been presented, and she found it rather boring.

If she was honest, it wasn't just the season that bored her. Ever since she had left Carrington Hall two months ago, she was restless and unhappy. She hadn't expected to miss Igor even more than she had twenty years ago, but she did. In 1874 she had had a position to fill and a family to take care of and it had kept her alive. She had had a purpose back then. These days she only had to take care of herself and it was hard not to miss him. She kept telling herself that she had done the right thing in telling him to go, but her loneliness was belying her.

For a short time she had even considered to take another lover, but she had dismissed the idea rather quickly. God knew there were many men who still gave her lingering looks and she had already received two distinct proposals since her arrival, but she felt ridiculously bound to Igor and the mere idea of sleeping with anyone else didn't agree with her.

"You won't believe who is here," Marjorie had approached her and Violet startled. She spilled champagne over her dress.

"Who? The Prince of Wales?" Violet asked annoyed. Robert had told her earlier the Prince was expected to attend, not that she cared much for anything these days.

"Yes and he's got a guest with him," Marjorie said mysteriously. "Guess!"

"Marjorie, I'm really not in the mood..."

"You know him. You've met him before... here's a hint... he's not good at cards."

Violet was so stunned that she forgot about her smirched dress. "Prince Kuragin?"

Marjorie nodded excitedly. "Yes, seems he and the Prince of Wales have met a few weeks ago and our Prince invited the Russian Prince to stay for the season."

"I see. How interesting."

"Make sure to dance with him!" Marjorie said. "I've heard he's a terrific dancer and you know what they say about men who are good at dancing!"

Violet crooked her eyebrow. "I'm sure you know, while I can only guess. But now excuse me, please."

With her mind and her heart going riot, Violet fled the ballroom and hastened to the lady's room on the first floor. It gave her time to think and to prepare herself. She couldn't believe he was actually crazy enough to stay in London. Of course, it could all be a coincidence, but she didn't believe in coincidences. Not when it came to him.

The Prince of Wales and his entourage arrived one hour later and it took his Russian companion one hour, before he made his presence known. He approached her, after Violet had just been dropped off by Robert after a waltz.

"Lady Grantham," Igor said charmingly. "How nice to see you again."

Robert looked curiously at his mother. "You know each other?"

Violet smiled at Igor and introduced the men.

"May I present my son, Lord Grantham? Robert, this is Prince Kuragin. Remember, I've told you, your father and I met the Prince in Russia."

"And a few months ago, we met at Carrington Hall," Kuragin added.

Robert made a small bow and so did the Prince. "I hope you've enjoyed the season so far."

"I do." The Prince said with an appreciative look at Violet and fell silent. After a few awkward moments, Robert seemed to notice his presence was dispensable and excused himself and left.

"I guess you think of yourself as someone who's extremely clever and funny," she said, when she was sure her son couldn't overhear them any more.

"Not necessarily," he answered and helped himself to two glasses of champagne, as a waiter passed him. He handed her one and leaned in, "Will you dance with me?" he whispered seductively. "Like the evening we met."

"A very unlikely idea" she replied smoothly and took a step back. She remembered the ball at the Winter Palace vividly. He was a terrific dancer. She had always felt like a feather when he led her over the dance floor, but she wouldn't be so foolish to allow him to do so here, where he was considered the most exotic addition of the season and she had to be a proper widow.

"Never mind. I'll spend my summer in London this year and so there will be plenty of dances left."

She became pale. "How long will you stay on London?" she asked.

"Since I haven't see a London season, I think I'll enjoy it to the fullest."

"You can't be serious!" she said, shocked about the prospect of having him around for the rest of the summer. Igor just smiled at her and said, "My dear, I've never been more serious about a thing in my life."

"Don't proclaim your persistence, as if it were a virtue."

"I don't know what you mean," he said. "I'm just here to enjoy the summer – no strings attached. So, will you introduce me to the rest of your family?"

"Not if I can help it. I'm afraid they could find old acquaintances of mine quite tedious. After all I'm just an old widow these days."

Violet smiled against her will and sipped her champagne. Reckless, as he was he had brought her into an impossible situation and that in front of the whole English upper class.

It dawned on her that him spending the summer in London had been his plan all along and she chuckled. She had to be on her toes, if she wanted to keep her reputation intact, but she had the strong suspicion that the boring days of the season were definitely over now that he had arrived.

****The End****

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