Russian series 03 - The Eagle's Fate (20 page)

The Emperor’s intention to lead his Army across the Niemen and continue the war to its conclusion was confirmed officially before Christmas, causing much complaint amongst the fashionable hostesses in Petersburg who had hoped that some of the officers might have returned to the city in time to swell the numbers of available partners at their Christmas balls. There were also complaints that, with the Emperor away, there would be no ball at the Palace.

The remaining days before the festival passed very quickly, for there was much to do. Nadya and Irina confided to one another their amazement at the calm efficiency with which Tatya ran this great house, dealing with the ordinary day-to-day routine in consultation with Pavel Kuzmich, and holding at least one reception, card-party, concert, soiree or ball every week of the Season, with all the detailed organisation which this entailed firmly in the grasp of her own elegant white hands. Yet she never lost her serene expression, seemed hurried, or failed to find ample time to spend with her guests, and to attend the social functions provided by other hostesses in Society.

She recruited the assistance of Nadya and Irina for the pleasant take of wrapping the gifts for the servants in pretty coloured papers tied with bright ribbons, and even Andrei found himself with a part to play, printing the name of each recipient on a card to be attacked to the right gift. He demurred at first, saying that he could not write, but Tatya briskly but kindly informed him that other people had learned to write left-handed, and the practice would be good for him. So he set to work, using a pencil at first, held between the remaining finger and thumb of his left hand, and soon graduated to pen and ink. It was trying to begin with, and he often flung down the pencil in exasperation, but he gradually improved.

One the eve of Christmas, a monk from the Alexander Nevsky Monastery came to the house to hear confessions from those who wished to take the Eucharist, starting, of course, with Tatya and her guests. This, naturally, led their thoughts to the actual service, and over luncheon they discussed where they should go to hear it, as there was such a wide choice of churches in the city.

Andrei said that he felt obliged to go to his Regiment’s church, as there were so few of the present members of the Regiment available, but he was not suggesting that they should all go there.

‘Why don’t you go to your own Smolny?’ he asked.

Tatya raised an enquiring eyebrow at the others, who agreed with the idea, and so it was settled. Nadya, in particular, was pleased, as the cathedral had been unfinished when she last saw inside it.

The service would, of course, be in the middle of the night, and would last for at least three hours, so everyone retired to bed for the afternoon. Nadya found it difficult to sleep during the day, and only dozed a little, but the others seemed to have managed rather better, according to what they said when they met for a late dinner.

During the evening, they set out the gifts for the servants in the small salon on two long tables decorated with green branches, coloured ribbons and candles, and then went their different ways to church.

The service in the beautiful but
still
unfinished Smolny Cathedral reminded Nadya very much of her schooldays when she found a mystical satisfaction in the effect of candlelight on the rich gold and white decorative work of the interior and the sheer beauty of the singing in a building with such fine acoustics. She regained a great deal of that feeling during this service, but there was a new element of faith and understanding which she had lacked as a girl, when everything had been easy and she had only lived on the surface of life, cushioned by her father’s wealth.

They returned home through the frosty, starlit night amid the thousands of others moving about the snowy streets, for all Petersburg seemed to be on its way home from church. The street lamps shone bravely, illuminating cheerful faces, some of them thin and pinched with cold, but all of them anticipating the enjoyment of gifts and the good food to come, even if it would only be a few little wooden toys for the children and a piece of meat, that rare luxury to the poor, given out of charity by one or other of the wealthier citizens. Tatya had not mentioned any such distribution from her house, but Nadya had seen two waggon-loads of carcases arrive from the market for this purpose.

They reached home to find Andrei already returned and drinking a glass of wine in the garden-room, the black kitten sitting bolt upright on his knee enjoying a few drops of the wine licked from the man’s finger. The latter started a little guiltily as the ladies came in and caught him, but the cat gave them a particularly smug smile before removing itself to an unoccupied chair to sleep off the effects of its dissipation.

After some wine and almond biscuits, they went upstairs to rest for an hour, then dressed in new clothes in the old tradition (Andrei saying apologetically that he could only oblige with a new shirt as any one of his uniforms was much the same as all the others), and then they assembled in the small salon to distribute the gaily-wrapped parcels to the servants, who filed in and round the room in ascending order of seniority, receiving a gift and a few words from Tatya with a bow or a curtsey on the way.

Pavel Kuzmich called out the names, ticking each one off on a long list, and finally brought up the rear in the most important place, making a formal speech of thanks in Russian on behalf of all the servants before receiving his gift. Then he summoned a junior footman to whom he handed his own parcel in exchange for another, which he gave to Tatya, saying it was a gift from all the servants to the best mistress in all Russia. Tatya was deeply touched, as were Nadya and Irina, but Andrei appeared to be seized by a spasmodic fit of coughing, which caused Tatya, as they went downstairs, to tell him severely that he was a wicked man.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, smiling down at her. ‘It was a very pleasant gesture—I didn’t mean to make fun of it. What have they given you?’

Tatya unwrapped the parcel while they were all taking coffee in the garden-room. It was a very pretty silver vinaigrette, with an enamel painting of the Orlov house on the lid, and Tatya was delighted with it.

‘Now,’ she said when it had been passed round and admired,’ how do we all feel? Shall we breakfast now, or does anyone wish to sleep? Remember, we shall have another late night tonight.’ It seemed that everyone was in favour of taking breakfast, and sleeping again in the afternoon.

After breakfast, they exchanged gifts, and then watched as Tatya opened hers first, it having been decided that they should take turns in reverse alphabetical order, leaving Andrei, quite properly, to come last. She had received a dozen handkerchiefs, more lace than lawn, from Irina, Nadya’s thimble, and (to Nadya’s surprise) a porcelain vase from the Imperial Factory from Andrei. It was white, painted with delicate sprays of wild flowers, and had a pierced lid so that it could be used as a holder for pot-pourri, and Tatya was obviously very pleased with it, as she was with all her gifts.

Nadya’s turn came next, and she found that Irina had given her a heavily-fringed silk shawl in a rich sapphire blue, and Tatya an evening gown in the same colour, which was a perfect match, so it was obvious that they had planned their gifts together.

‘Oh, Tatya! You said small things!’ Nadya protested, but her face had lit up at the sight of the gown, for she knew that it was the most becoming colour for her, and would add the necessary depth of blueness to her eyes.

Then she picked up her remaining parcel, feeling quite breathless and nervous as she untied the ribbon and carefully removed the paper without tearing it, determined to keep even the wrappings of the only gift she was ever likely to receive from Andrei. She was surprised and puzzled to come upon an oblong case covered with a curious rough-surfaced dark green leather, and when she opened it, she realised why his present to Tatya had not been perfume after all. Inside was a cut-crystal flask, a plain panel on one side enameled with a classical urn filled with the spiky leaves and white waxy trumpets of tuberose. When she removed the stopper, which was a single flower moulded in silver, the evocative warm, sweet perfume enveloped her in a little cloud of pleasure, and she wondered if Andrei’s choice had been deliberate, or just a coincidence.

‘Oh, how kind of you!’ she exclaimed, smiling at him.

He looked a trifle embarrassed and replied, ‘A small token of thanks for an unexpected kindness received,’ in an expressionless tone, and she felt certain that he meant that it reminded him too of the first evening of his return to Petersburg.

Irina looked at her parcels, and then suddenly gave an impish grin and said, ‘Last Christmas, my aunt gave me a flannel undershift! I hope there’s nothing like that here!’

There was not—she found Nadya’s box, then a brooch from Tatya set with green stones which she obviously did not realise were emeralds, although she admired it with delight, and Andrei’s reticule. By then she could hardly speak, and stammered her thanks through a few tears of sheer happiness at having such lovely gifts and such kind friends, and Nadya realised what a very dull and lonely life she must have led before she met Lev.

‘Now you, Andrei!’ Tatya commanded, and he obediently turned to the parcels on the table at his elbow, for he was sitting in his usual place. They were all three tied with ribbon in a simple bow which he could easily undo.

Nadya’s buttonhook seemed to perplex him at first, but he tried it on the buttons of his dolman, and remarked in surprise that he could fasten and unfasten them quite easily with its aid, and even use it in his right hand if the frog was not too stiff. He was so pleased that he gave Nadya the sort of smile he usually reserved for Tatya, so that she hardly knew how to contain the happiness welling up inside her.

Tatya had given him a curious little silver implement, which proved to be a holder for a pen. It had a wide-footed strut, so that when he wrote left-handed, there was something to rest on in place of the missing part of his hand, and he had to blink rather hard as he thanked Tatya for it, and for her thoughtfulness.

Irina’s present was another dozen handkerchiefs, but large plain ones this time, beautifully hem-stitched and embroidered with his monogram in unobtrusive white silk, which she said shyly she had made herself. He admired her fine stitchery with great enthusiasm, making her glow with pleasure.

Tatya then produced another gift for Irina from Aunt Xenia, which proved to be a magnificent diamond necklace, which she said she was sure she would never dare to wear. She did, of course

The day passed very quickly, with a short drive during the morning for q little air, and after luncheon, the ladies retired to bed for the afternoon, when Nadya slept very well. Andrei said that he had to go out for a while, but he promised to snatch a couple of hours’ rest when he returned. He did not volunteer any information about where he was going, and of course no one was so ill-mannered as to ask.

Dinner was a festive meal for which they all dressed in the finery they would wear for Princess Dengovskaya’s ball in the evening. Nadya was radiant when she saw herself in the mirror in the sapphire gown, for it intensified the colour of her eyes and even gave her hair a brighter look. Tatya had lent her a sapphire and diamond necklace and hair ornaments, and she went downstairs floating on a small cloud of pleasure and tuberose perfume.

Irina word crimson silk with the diamonds and carried Andrei’s reticule, and her maid, thwarted in her attempts to curl Irina’s hair by its heavy softness, had pinned a few crimson rosebuds within her coronet of plaits.

Tatya wore a shimmering gown of pearl grey with a transparent overlay of palest blue gauze, and Andrei, surveying the three of them with flattering admiration, said that they looked like three precious jewels—a ruby, a sapphire and a moonstone. He then presented them each with a bouquet of rosebuds—crimson for Irina, white for Tatya and pink for Nadya.

He was, of course, a magnificent figure in his colourful uniform, and his mysterious errand during the afternoon was explained, for he had acquired an addition to it. At the throat of his dolman hung a little gold cross with an enameled circle in the centre, suspended from a ribbon striped in black and gold. Even Irina recognized it, for Lev had one as well—the medal of the Order of St George, given only for acts of great courage in battle.

‘Who presented it?’ asked Tatya, who knew that the Emperor liked to do so himself.

‘The Empress Yelizaveta. Apparently Alexander Pavlovich ordered it before he left, but I’ve no idea how he found out—I haven’t seen him since…’ He gestured slightly with his hands.

The Dengovsky Palace stood on the bank of the Fontanka, almost opposite the Mikhailovsky Castle. A tremendous queue of carriages stretched from its doors all the way back to the Anichkov Bridge, and it was some time before Nadya ascended the grand staircase behind Tatya and Irina, so conscious of Andrei at her side that she hardly noticed the sumptuousness of the flower-banked entrance-hall.

The ballroom was quite magnificent, austerely white and gold, with great swags of evergreen festooned between the flat pilasters on the walls. Its marquetry floor was occupied by quite two hundred beautifully dressed people, the ladies’ jewels dazzling in the light of a thousand candles in the eight huge crystal chandeliers. The fond mothers chaperoning their daughters were accommodated on green velvet-seated sofas around the walls, and between each of these and its neighbour, an orange tree in full blossom was set in a gilded tub, scenting the air with cloying perfume. The orchestra was raised above the dancers at one of the room on a balcony which appeared to be made entirely of flowers.

As soon as Tatya appeared in the room, half a dozen of her beaux clustered about her, and she had soon established a sort of headquarters about halfway along one side of the dancing-floor. Irina was in the midst of the group of men in uniform or court dress, attracting her share of the attention, for she looked very attractive in her crimson gown. Efrem Schevich was already in close attendance on her.