#princeandrei

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I remember back in 2017 back when The Guardian was fretting that James was at the risk of overexposure because he had Grantchester, Happy Valley, and War and Peace all going on at the same time. That's crazy talk. I say it should be all James, all the time. All day, err'day. Mooooar James plz.

(img src: the Guardian)

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Maybe I just have a fixation with his mouth or something, but I love watching James Norton eat. Maybe it's in his contract that he always eats in his movies or shows or something so that his sugar doesn't drop too low. I can make that joke. I'm genetically predisposed to diabetes.

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If Prince Andrei were my loverrrrr, part twenty:

I loathed to ask it since I feared it might make me sound like a shallow, vapid woman, the type that I knew disgusted Andrei, but it came out of my mouth, anyway. "Do you love Natasha more than you love me?"

His blue eyes sparkled with amusement as he looked at me over the glass of water he was drinking. "Haven't I just finished telling you that I love you more than I've ever loved anyone? I will love you until my last dying breath leaves my body."

I did not dare ask why he would marry another woman instead of me, if that were the case. He had already offered for her. He must honor his word. It would be an altogether different story if she were the one to break the betrothal.

But why would one eschew the opportunity to marry Andrei? He was the best of all men. I would cross hell and back for the chance to be with him forever.

"But surely you will forget all about me once you reach Moscow?" I ventured shakily.

"My dear Countess, surely this is not cowardice you are exhibiting? You are one of the strongest, bravest women I know." He pulled his chair over to my side so that we are sitting together. "Your face is branded on my heart and my mind's eye. I wouldn't forget you even if I had my head cut off."

I shuddered at the grisly image. "Please don't allow your head to get cut off."

He took both of my hands in his and kissed my knuckles. "I love you, moya dorogaya. Do you believe me?"

I nodded as tears spilled down my cheeks. "Yes, my prince. And I, you. I'm just afraid that once you leave, we'll never see each other again."

He wiped away my tears with his thumb. "I swear on my mother's grave that I will come back to see you, Dashia."

I searched his gaze. "Even if it's just to say goodbye?"

He didn't answer. He only took my face in his hands and covered my mouth with his own. Sometime later, he said, "You are my greatest treasure, Dashia, never forget that. You own my heart and soul."

I slipped my arms around his neck and told myself it should be enough, but the thought of him marrying another woman cut me deeply.

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If Prince Andrei were my boo, part six:

I didn't expect my relationship--if it could even be called that-- with the Prince to change.

I was merely a serf, though I owned the land my house was built on, and he was the lord of all he surveyed.

I had dismissed myself as a mere dalliance, for he was obviously bored in the country and thought to amuse himself with a local woman.

I knew of his betrothal to Natasha Rostova; this was impressed upon me by Princess Marya, for she must have sensed I was developing feelings for her brother. How utterly mortifying.

Still I visited their family estate, upon the pretense of seeing Princess Marya, but she was out on a stroll with her companion.

Instead, I was shown to the drawing room where the Prince sat at the piano, with his elegant back to me. "Do you play, your Highness?" I couldn't help but ask.

He slowly turned in his seat on the bench and did not look surprised to see me. "Ah, Countess, I've been longing to see you. Come, sit by me."

I regarded the bench with apprehension. "Surely there isn't enough room for both of us?"

He chuckled indulgently. "I should have been more clear. What I meant was, sit on my lap."

I couldn't have heard him correctly. "I beg your pardon, my prince, but surely that is highly improper?"

He raised one arrogant eyebrow. "Countess, I was under the impression that you enjoyed my affection."

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If Prince Andrei were my loverrrrr, part 25:

He got up from the bed and put his shirt on, so I did the same, slipping into my dressing gown.

He headed for my sitting area, which had a fireplace. On the drinks cabinet, I'd also stocked his favorite scotch. I'd had to send away for it from a friend in London. I poured him a drink, while he settled on the chaise longue by the fire. I gave him the snifter glass, which he gratefully accepted, then I sat on the ottoman next to him.

He put my palm up to my cheek and I leaned into it, savoring his scent. "Dashia, it is not your responsibility to save them all. You told me you've fortified their homes and given them enough food to last them through winter. Give them your horses, too, if you must, but you have to leave. You've done enough for them." He set his drink down on a side table and cradled my face between his hands. "Please, lyubimaya moya. Do it for me."

He called me his beloved. I closed my eyes for a moment and reveled in the joy of it. "If it will send your mind at ease, I will go."

He leaned over to kiss my forehead. "As you know, I am no longer betrothed. That means I am free to marry you now, if you'll have me."

I threw myself into his arms. "Of course I will. It has been my fervent wish to be your wife, Andrei."

He laughed, but he had tears in his eyes, too. "And mine to be your husband."

We embraced tightly for some time, whispering love words to each other.

"We will marry when I return from Borodino," he said, kissing both my cheeks.

My heart sank. "You're going back to the front lines?"

He nodded and lowered his gaze. "You know I must, Dashia. It is my duty." He hugged me again. "But I will come back for you, I vow it. We will get married. You are everything I live for now, malishka."

"Andrei, if you die out there, so will I. Do you understand that I cannot live without you?"

He kissed both of my eyelids shut. "Dashia, even if I have to defy Death himself, I will return to you. Do you believe me?"

I could only cry silently into his shirt as he stroked my back and promised me that everything would be all right.

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If Prince Andrei were my loverrrrr, part thirteen:

We've been ensconced in my private suites all morning, just talking and enjoying each other's company. Madame Ivanov frowned with disapproval behind Andrei's back as I dragged him back to my rooms, but I couldn't care. I had the man I love with me and I was floating on air.

I gazed fondly at Andrei who was only in his shirtsleeves, as he'd long ago discarded his cravat, vest, and coat. He had a glass of my father's best scotch in one hand while he gesticulated wildly with the other as he told me about all the carousing he and Pierre had got up to when they were younger in St. Petersburg.

He looked so animated that I could see the young rascal he had been and what a joy he was to watch. I sipped on warm sherry and laughed at his antics.

Finally, he set his drink down and joined me on the sofa, gathering me into his arms and onto his lap. "I am so happy to be this close to you right now, malishka. There's nowhere else I'd rather be."

I wrapped myself around him, unable to believe I could touch him so freely. If I could freeze this moment in time and live in it for the rest of eternity, I would, but I knew our time together was stolen. I embraced him tightly with both my arms and legs, so he couldn't get away, savoring his scent and his warmth. "Make love to me, Andrei, please."

He groaned against my bosom. When he looked up at me, his eyes were tormented. "Oh, moya kroshka, there is nothing else I'd rather do, but I cannot take your virginity. I will not dishonor you that way."

There was fire burning inside me, deep within my loins, an ache only he could ease. "Andrei, I offer it at the altar of my love for you."

Instead of answering me, he grasped my face between his hands and fused his lips to mine, kissing me for so long that it almost felt like we were breathing with one pair of lungs together. He tore his mouth from mine. "I love you, malishka. Please do not ever forget that."

I pulled his head down and urged him to kiss me again, until we were both breathless and stroking each other's bodies urgently. Oh, I loved him so!

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If Prince Andrei were my boo, part seven:

I nervously approached the prince who was sitting on the piano bench, his elbows resting on the fallboard that covered the keys. The posture was meant to convey indolence, but he reminded me a lion on alert, waiting for a prey to get closer so he could pounce.

I tugged at the high collar of my gown as it was suddenly too tight around my neck. I stopped when I was just slightly beyond his reach, pressing my back against the wall.

The prince smirked and crossed the room to a drinks cabinet where he poured himself red wine. "Would you like something to drink, Countess? Please join me."

I thought I should keep a clear head since he was intoxicating on his own. I was like a mouse trapped in a cage with a large animal, yet oddly enough, a part of me was looking forward to getting devoured.

"Yes, your Highness, I will take a drink," I heard myself say.

He handed me a glass of wine and I shivered as our fingertips brushed together.

I sipped my drink while he indicated that I should sit on a gilded sofa with velvet cushions. I did as he asked, swallowing a bit more of my wine as soon as he occupied the spot next to me.

As my hand started to shake, I set down my glass on a nearby table lest I spill it on myself, or worse yet, the prince. "Please, don't think I'm being presumptuous, your Highness, but may I ask what your intentions are toward me?"

He caressed my cheek with the back of his hand. "I confess that I don't quite know, Countess. I thought we might be friends, but I now believe we are more than that. I ache to see you when you're not around and when you're near, I yearn only to touch you."

I closed my eyes as he ran his thumb over my lips and chin. When I felt his mouth brush my cheek, I thought I might catch on fire.

He gathered me into his arms until I was effectively sitting on his lap. I had no choice but to put my arms around his neck as I had begun to get weak and needed support. He slowly flicked open the tiny buttons at the throat of my high collar gown, so he could access my neck. "Please allow me this liberty, moya kroshka, I need to see more of you."

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If Prince Andrei were my loverrrrr, part 24:

He returned today. Madame Popova saw his carriage arrive while she was out for her morning walk. He descended from the carriage, noticed her, and touched the brim of his hat in greeting. My housekeeper then rushed home to tell me that Prince Andrei had finally come.

I ordered the servants to give the house a thorough cleaning and dusting and for Cook to prepare Andrei's favorite meals. I didn't know if he was going to visit, since his main purpose was to move his father to Saint Petersburg and secure the household, but just in case he did, I wanted everything to be ready for him.

I put on my rose-colored gown which had an empire waist and a square neckline. I paired it with a burgundy Spencer jacket and rose lace gloves. I had Madame Ivanova put up my hair in a chignon.

He came by just a little after noon. I was arranging some flowers in a vase in a foyer when the door behind me opened and suddenly, Andrei was right behind me. I threw my arms around him and he embraced me tightly, rubbing my back as I began to cry into his cravat.

"Oh, moya dorogaya, I am here now. Please don't cry. I'm here." He pulled back just enough so he could see my face. He stroked my cheek and brushed away the hair that had escaped my chignon. "I've forgotten how breathtaking you are, Dashia."

He lowered his head and sealed his mouth over mine.

The kiss was deep and devastating. Soon, we couldn't keep our hands off each other. He bent down to put his arm under my knees and swept me up. Without breaking our kiss, he carried me into my suites and set me down on my bed.

Sometime later, we were cuddling together and Andrei was stroking my hair. "You need to get out of here, too, lyubimaya moya. It will no longer be safe in a week or so. Napoleon is already in Smolensk."

I curled up closer against his chest, seeking his warmth and security. "I have tenants to take care of, Andrei. I cannot take them on a caravan to Saint Petersburg. Some of them are old and sick, many are children. There is my father's house, but they won't all fit in there. What am I to with them?"