Russian series 03 - The Eagle's Fate (12 page)

‘It’s all right now,’ Nadya said, managing a faint smile. ‘I was praying for a friend.’ Then, seeing that he still looked worried, perhaps wondering if he had failed her in some way when he was needed, ‘He has been wounded, and I was praying for him. I think it was answered, and I know what to do now. Will you give me your blessing?’

He did so, and Nadya left the church, then stopped and stared in amazement at the wintry scene outside, for an inch of snow mantled everything, and one of Tatya’s carriages was waiting at the foot of the steps.

‘The mistress sent me for you,’ the coachman said jumping down to open the door for her. ‘It’s wet underfoot.’ Which it was indeed, for the snow was already turning to slush.

Back at the house, Tatya met her in the hall and said anxiously, ‘How do you feel?’

‘Quite calm, thank you,’ Nadya assured her, removing her cloak and overshoes. ‘Thank you for sending the carriage.’

‘I wasn’t sure what you had on your feet,’ Tatya said, returning to the salon with her. She sounded unusually ill-at-ease, and Nadya realised why when she went on, ‘We—we read the letter—I can’t think what possessed Sasha to break such news in so tactless a fashion! It was a dreadful shock. And to put such a burden on you…!’

‘That was why I went over to the church,’ Nadya replied. ‘It was all I could do immediately—to pray for him. I—I suppose it could have been worse, but it’s a terrible thing to happen to anyone.’ She looked at her own hands, which were trembling.

‘Shall you reply?’ Tatya had almost recovered her usual composure now that she saw that Nadya was in command of herself. ‘I know he was abysmally rude to you, and there’s really no excuse for it, whatever may have passed between him and Maxim, but…’

‘Yes, I shall reply at once,’ Nadya went straight to the small writing-table in the corner. ‘If you’ll excuse me.’ There was a mirror over the table in which she could see both Tatya and Irina, and she observed that they exchanged a look of obvious relief. ‘Was there any news in your other letters/’ she enquired, setting out a sheet of paper, and selecting a pen from the half-dozen on the ink-stand.

‘Yes. Maria Kirova writes that Nikolai is out of danger at last, thank God! He’s still far from well, of course, but she’s certain now that he’ll recover in time.’

Nadya made a suitable reply and wrote the heading and date on the paper, thinking that things were really becoming exceedingly complicated. She was in love with Andrei, who was probably in love with Tatya, who might be in love with Nikolai, who was married…If only everyone’s emotions could fix themselves as simply as those of Irina and Lev!

It was very difficult to know how to word her letter. Andrei’s had been so very formal, and it was unlikely that he felt any less antipathetic to her family, so an informal, friendly reply seed out of place. Eventually she wrote formally, saying that, although his attitude had upset her because she did not know of any reason for it, she could understand that if some member of her family had done him a great injury, he was bound to react with hostility to any Serov he came upon, especially if the meeting was unexpected, and therefore she willingly forgave him. She added that she was sincerely sorry to hear of his injuries and would pray for him.

Then she wondered if he would prefer not to know that a Serov was praying for him, but decided to let it stand, and closed the brief letter as formally as she had begun it, except that she signed herself ‘Nadya Igorovna Serov’ instead of usi9ng the full version of her baptismal name. It was a small gesture of friendship which he could ignore if he chose.

‘Will you write to him too?’ she asked Tatya as she went to recover Sasha’s letter in order to copy the direction on the outside of her own. She was glad that Tatya said she would, thinking that Andrei would be better pleased to receive her friend’s note than her own.

Later, when she was alone in her own room, having said her prayers and got into bed, she wondered if she might have improved on the wording of her letter, but it was too late now as it had already gone. She was reluctant to think too much of her feelings for Andrei, perhaps with some obscure idea that they might go away if she ignored them. It was obviously quite hopeless, and she would be a fool to nourish any tender feeling for a man who clearly hated her for her family connection, and who might even use her love as a weapon against her, if ever he learned of it. He must never know, and she must recover as quickly as possible.

The snow, which had come unusually early in the year, had cleared by the morning, but it was followed by cold, very windy weather. Tatya said that, as everything was ready for their removal to St Petersburg, she thought they had best set off as soon as possible in case it snowed again.

It now seemed clear that the French were really committed to a retiral towards Smolensk and that Moscow was clear of them, but the city was in no condition for anyone attempting to stay even one night in it, so she proposed that they should travel by way of Yegoryevsk and Sergievo, and rejoin the Moscow-Petersburg road at Tver. It would add at least two days to the journey, but would, she felt, be better than risking any inconvenience for lack of posting facilities on a more direct route.

‘Perhaps I should return to Moscow instead of coming with you,’ Nadya said doubtfully.

Tatya looked at her in astonishment, and Irina, who rarely ventured an unsolicited opinion, said, You couldn’t possibly!’

‘Indeed not!’ agreed Tatya. ‘They say that half the city is in ruins, and only the poorest people returned! Of course, you must be worried about your home. I thought I would send three or four reliable men into the city to visit the house and secure your things. A couple could stay there to guard them if the house is in a fit state, or they could move everything into our house for the time being, or bring them back here, and one could come on to Petersburg and report the situation.’

‘I’d be very grateful,’ Nadya replied. ‘To tell the truth, I’m more than half resigned to there being nothing left at all, for the house was old and wooden, and in an area of very narrow streets.’

After a hurried completion of their packing, the three ladies set off in Tatya’s traveling coach in the penultimate week in October, accompanied by two waggons with the baggage and four smaller coaches carrying the ladies’ maids, Pavel Kuzmich, and several of the other servants who would be needed to supplement the staff of the Petersburg house, and, at the same time, a stout cart with four stalwart handymen and the assistant steward departed for Moscow.

The journey as far as Tver was much worse than any of them had expected. The towns through which they passed were still crowded with fugitives from the war area, waiting to hear if they might safely go home. They were poorer folk, most of the nobility and their serfs having gone to their estates, so it was possible to obtain lodgings at the Imperial post-houses—at a price—but difficult to get horses, as far more traffic than usual was passing through.

To make matters worse, the winter suddenly began in earnest, with heavy falls of snow, then they were barely midway between Yegoryevsk and Sergievo, and there was a delay of two days at the latter while they waited for sledge runners to be fitted to the vehicles. They managed to find accommodation at the great Troitsa monastery, which was a great deal more Spartan than anything to which Tatya and her servants were accustomed, but Irina remarked that it was very much like her aunt’s house near Orsha.

They all took the opportunity to pray in the monastery cathedral, which was considered the most holy place in Russia, so Nadya at least hoped that the prayers she said there would be all the more effective.

Between Sergievo and Tver, there were snowdrifts and blizzards, and another delay before they could cross the Volga at Tver because the river was half-frozen, with great blocks of ice moving in the current, and the authorities would only allow one vehicle at a time to cross on the ferry, in case it was carried away.

Once they were on the main road matters improved, for a great deal of traffic used this road, and it was cleared after every snowfall by gangs of serfs from the estates which bordered it. The posting system was operating normally here, so far from the war area, and they sped along rapidly northwards.

One stage short of Petersburg, at Pomeranye, Tatya asked if her companions would mind spending another night on the road, staying at the inn there, which was a very good one, as she particularly wished to call on friends who lived nearby. They agreed, naturally, and were rewarded with a very good supper and comfortable, clean rooms. Tatya drove away after supper, and returned some two hours later looked tired but at peace.

‘I’ve been to call on the Kirovs,’ she said casually as she rejoined the others.

Irina looked a trifle blank, but Nadya put two and tow together and enquired, ‘How is Nikolai Ilyich? Did you see him?’

‘Only for a few minutes. He’s still very weak, but quite conscious and collected. Of course, he’s been very ill indeed, and looks quite dreadful, but he spoke a few words, and seemed pleased to see me. Maria says it’s the first real sign of animation he’s shown, for he just lies still and silent most of the time, as if he doesn’t much care about anything. It’s very sad, but the doctors say he’ll recover in time.’

‘I suppose Princess Anna hasn’t visited him?’

‘Indeed not! And I doubt if Maria would let her set foot in the house if she did!” Tatya replied sharply.

‘Is that Prince Nikolai’s wife?’ Irina asked quietly, and nodded when Tatya replied that it was, then added that Maria was in almost daily expectation of a new baby, and hoped to have a girl, whom she intended to call Irina, in view of the time of her arrival.

An advantage of their stop at Pomerayne was that they arrived in Petersburg during the following morning, when the city was looking its best, and Irina exclaimed in delight at the beautiful classical buildings, glowing with colour amid the snow in bright sunshine under a cloudless sky. Tatya smilingly instructed the coachman to drive through the city centre while the maids and other servants went straight to the house with the baggage, and all three enjoyed the sight of Peter’s beautiful city in its dazzling winter coat.

The great Neva was frozen, although not yet solidly, and shone pale blue between the fine buildings. The smaller rivers and canals were already alive with sledges and skaters, and the twin spires of the Admiralty and the Peter-Paul Cathedral pierced the sky like golden daggers.

‘Where does the Emperor live?’ Irina asked, gazing about with wide eyes, and she looked at the vast bulk of the Winter Palace with awe, never having seen such a huge building before.

‘I didn’t imagine it would be like this!’ she said. ‘It’s like a fairy tale city! Oh, dear! You must think me very ignorant and provincial to be gaping at everything like this!’

Nadya and Tatya exchanged rueful smiles, and admitted that they had gaped just as much when they first saw Petersburg, although they did not add that they had been only young children at the time.

The Orlov house had been built during the reign of Peter’s daughter by Tatya’s grandfather, who had chosen a site which was on the edge of the city at the time, not on the fashionable Nevsky or Voznesenksy Prospects, but on the less fashionable street which ran between them, the Gorokhovaya or Pea-green Street. This was because he was a countryman at heart and wanted a large garden, so the house stood only a few yards from the street in front, behind a wrought-iron grille, but had a spacious yard behind the stables, a formal flower-garden under the windows at the back of the house, a walled water-garden, and even a small orchard.

Indeed, it was well-designed, with ballroom, large and small salons and a winter-garden on the first floor, and a set of comfortably informal family rooms overlooking the garden on the ground floor, from which a wide staircase ascended to the bedrooms and attics, hidden from the formal rooms b3ehind an unobtrusive door in an alcove off the great salon.

This left the very grand staircase rising from the middle of the entrance hall to be used only when guests came for a formal occasion, which always seemed a very sensible arrangement, although it resulted in the kitchens and other domestic offices being situated at the front of the house with their own access through a side door off the carriage entrance.

Nadya had often visited the house in the old day, and remembered it well, but Irina, of course, had never seen it before, nor indeed anything like it, and looked about her rather timidly. When Tatya asked what she thought of it, she replied nervously, ‘I didn’t realise that Lev was—that he owned anything like this. I—I don’t know if—if I can live up to it. I think perhaps I—that I shouldn’t marry him.’ and she looked utterly wretched.

They were in a comfortable and comparatively small sitting-room with tall glass doors opening on to the formal garden, which was probably why Tatya referred to it as the garden-room, taking tea before going upstairs to change out of their travelling-clothes. Tatya paused in the middle of filling a glass to look at her future sister-in-law in surprise.

‘You can’t be serious!’ she exclaimed.

‘I don’t think I’m suitable,’ Irina replied, sounding very troubled. ‘I was beginning to think so in Ryazan, when I met all those people he knows there, and now I’m sure that I won’t do. I’m not anybody. I’ve no money, and I’ve never set foot in a house like this before, and Lev is used to this sort of life—grand house, fine clothes, balls and receptions, going to Court, mixing with rich, important people…They’ll wonder why on earth a man like him should saddle himself with such a —a beetle.’

‘I thought he called you Sparrow,’ Tatya observed calmly, continuing to pour tea. ‘You’re not in the least like a beetle! Lev chose you himself, and I’m sure he won’t mind in the least what anyone else thinks! It’s all very new to you at the moment, but you’ll soon become used to it, and I’m perfectly confident that you’ll make my bother an excellent wife. He’s not all that much enamoured of life in Petersburg, in any case—he much prefers the country.’

Irina apparently accept this and seemed less worried, but Nadya suspected that there was still a great deal of doubt and uncertainty underlying that composed exterior, which would only be resolved when Lev came home and made it quite clear that he really did want her for his wife.