Russian series 03 - The Eagle's Fate (21 page)

As not all of Tatya’s beaux could talk to her or dance with her at once, Nadya was greeted and engaged for one dance or another by most of the, and than a little jocular argument broke out between two of the more poetically-inclined gentlemen as they tried to outdo one another in praising Tatya’s appearance, drawing all the attention of the rest of the group to applauding or decrying the results.

Nadya drew a little apart from the circle, and looked about the room, admiring the fine settling and the colourful spectacle of the dancers on the floor, feeling quite content in the knowledge that she was looking as well as anyone of her pale colouring could in her blue gown.

‘What are you thinking about?’ Andrei’s voice asked quietly from beside her.

She started slightly, for he had been in the midst of Tatya’s beaux only a moment before. ‘Oh—I was admiring the ballroom. It’s very beautiful.’

‘Yes. Our hostess has succeeded admirably this time,’ he replied, looking around. ‘The orange blossom will become sickly after a while, though.’

‘This time?’ Nadya queried.

‘Yes. She has it redecorated every year. When you come next Season, it may be paneled in malachite, or painted in pink and purple stripes with lapis lazuli pilasters. This is very restrained compared with other years.’

Nadya’s mind had fastened on,’ When you come next Season’, and added silently, ‘But I won’t—I don’t know where I shall be next Season.’ She looked away, biting her lips.

‘Yes, you will,’ Andrei said firmly, as if she had spoken aloud.

She glanced up at him, but he was watching the dancers with a slight frown, and she though that it must be irritating for him to be asked to squire her when he would so much rather be with Tatya. He must care very deeply for Tatya to submit so often to being sent to entertain someone whose family name was anathema to him, and she wondered what he thought about it. Tatya was being very kind to her in choosing Andrei, but not at all kind to him, which seemed out of character somehow.

‘Irina’s dancing with that Schevich fellow who’s always hanging about her,’ Andrei said abruptly.

‘He’s very pleasant, I believe,’ Nadya replied.

‘I don’t trust him. He’s sly. Besides, he’s a merchant—I can’t imagine why he’s invited about so much.’

Nadya thought Andrei was being a little intolerant, but she said nothing but ‘He’s very rich,’ and then was claimed by a partner and had to excuse herself to Andrei, who gave her a little bow and then went on watching the dancers by himself.

Naturally, Nadya’s partner returned her at the end of the dance to where he had found her, and Andrei was still standing there.

‘Are you not dancing?’ she asked, just for something to say, but he apparently took it as a hint and led her on to the floor again for the waltz that was just beginning.

‘Dancing in spurs is a remarkably uncivilized habit,’ he observed, turning her at the corner. ‘When floor-length gowns are in fashion, they cause some fearful disasters!’

‘Perhaps that’s why our skirts have risen to our ankles,’ Nadya replied. ‘In self-defence.’

He grinned and said nothing more during the rest of the dance, only ‘thank you’ at the end of it, and then stood in silence, apparently watching Tatya partnering a very handsome fellow in civilian dress through the following cotillion.

There was a constant movement of people round the edges of the dancing-floor as more people arrived and gentlemen moved into strategic positions to pounce on the lady each intended for his partner in the next dance. Many of them greeted Andrei as they passed, pausing to congratulate him on his St George, which seemed to embarrass him.

‘The news has gone round very quickly,’ Nadya observed.

‘Apparently it was in the Gazette yesterday. I didn’t see it,’ he replied. ‘I don’t .’

He was interrupted by a tall, willowy young man in the uniform of the Semyenovskis. He had sleek dark hair, a handsome, if rather weak, face, and a faintly supercilious air, and said, ‘Ah—Valyev! I see they’ve given you a bit of ribbon,’ in such patronizing tones that Nadya was seized with a desire, which she sternly repressed, to tread heavily on his foot.

‘Yes.’ Andrei replied, ‘and I see they’ve given you home leave. What was it this time—a sick cat?’

‘Bringing dispatches to the War Ministry,’ the man replied curtly. ‘Someone has to do it.’ He avoided Andrei’s sardonic look and caught sight of Nadya. He eyed her with growing interest, his gaze resting on the sapphire and diamond necklace a fraction too long. It was set with particularly large and fine stones and must have cost a vast amount of money.

‘Won’t you make me known to your charming companion/’ he asked Andrei, giving Nadya a look which she thought might be described as ogling.

‘No,’ Andrei replied briefly.

The man’s attention jerked back to him at that. He stiffened and his face flushed, taking on an angry scowl which somehow modified itself into a petulant, sulky gaze. He shrugged, muttered, ‘As you please. It’s easy enough to find something better!’ and strolled away with a little too much of a swagger.

‘Sour grapes!’ Andrei observed with a smile at Nadya.

‘Who is he?’ she asked, amazed by Andrei’s downright rude reply to a civil request.

‘Sergei Dmitriev. An unpleasant little toad, and brother to the most evil woman in Petersburg,’ he replied. ‘I wouldn’t allow him in the same room with you, if I had my way. Or the same world, for that matter. I wonder how big a bribe he had to pay to get himself sent home for Christmas!’

Nadya was too startled by this sweeping condemnation uttered in a calm, reasonable voice, to think of any reply, and she was still thinking about it when another partner came to claim her for a polonaise.

Andrei danced once with Tatya and twice with Irina, and stood up with Nadya for the cotillion before supper, so she had the pleasure of going out to the supper-room on his arm, conscious that her gown was a lighter shade than the blue of his dolman, and that a brief glimpse in a great mirror in the gallery had shown the reflection of a handsome couple.

The refreshments were served in the great salon, which had been furnished with little white tables and chairs, looking very pretty in contrast to the light green walls, which were almost entirely covered with evergreens and white flowers. Andrei selected a table about halfway down the righthand side, where they had a good view of the room. Tatya was not far away, with a lively group of four young men, who pulled two of the tables together and thereby spoiled their hostess’s planning as they partially blocked the passage of the footmen serving the food. Irina was right over the other side, near a closed side-door, with Efrem Schevich.

A footman in very grand livery and powdered tie-wig served Nadya with various delectable things to eat. Andrei began to decline when the man turned to him, then changed his mind and had a few small items. Neither was really hungry and it was more interesting to look at the other guests, particularly the fashionably dressed ladies.

Presently, after no one had come into the room for a few minutes, a lady entered on the arm of a man whom Nadya recognized as an influential member of the Emperor’s circle. Almost every pair of eyes in the room turned on them, but the attention was for the lady, not her partner.

She was quite the most strikingly beautiful female Nadya had ever seen, with shining blue-black hair, perfect classical features, great dark eyes and a complexion like magnolia petals. Her voluptuous figure was displayed to advantage in a clinging gown of pale rose silk, so low-cut that it had hardly any bodice at all. She glanced languidly about her as she glided down the room, her escort’s attention entirely centred on the occasional remark which dropped from her shapely lips, and a little susurration of whispers followed her as she passed. Nadya saw that the eyes of practically every man in the room were fixed on her, but most of the ladies, after an admiring or a shocked stare, averted their gaze.

Tatya went further. As the couple passed her, she deliberately turned her back, at which the dark beauty gave a cat-like little smile and raised her voice to say in a honeyed drawl, ‘How
horrid
to be a widow! Pale grey does
nothing
to enhance what looks one may have!’, which was received with obsequious agreement by her escort.

Nadya glanced at Andrei as the couple came on, and saw that he was probably the only man in the room not looking at the lady. As she passed them, he turned to Nadya and said in a clear, pleasant tone, ‘D’you know, I think you and Tatya are by far the handsomest females here this evening. I’ve not seen anything to touch the pair of you yet!’

The lady gave him a cold glance and passed on, and Nadya asked quietly, ‘Who is she?’

‘What, the half-naked Juno? The woman I mentioned earlier—Dmitriev’s sister, Anna Volkhova.’

‘Nikolai Volkhov’s wife?’

‘Yes.’

‘No wonder–-‘ Nadya broke off, for Andrei put a hand on her wrist and said, ‘Look!’

She followed the direction of his gaze and saw that something was amiss with Irina. She was staring after Anna Volkhova with a stricken expression on her face, as if she was about to faint or burst into tears. Efrem Schevich was leaning close to her, speaking very earnestly about something, Then, as Nadya and Andrei watched, he gestured towards the door near their table. Irina rose and moved towards it, stumbling a little. Schevich put a hand on her arm to steady her, and they both disappeared through the door.

‘He’s up to something!’ Andrei commented quietly. ‘Come along!’

He stood up, holding out his hand a trifle impatiently to assist Nadya, then gave her his arm and they strolled together across the room and passed through the door.

It opened at one end of a long corridor, white-walled and hung with pictures, with a thick velvety blue carpet running down the centre of the floor. Doors were set at intervals in the opposite wall, with branches of candles on mirror-backed consoles between them. The flames of one set were flickering, as if someone had just passed them, and the door beyond it closed even as they looked.

Andrei looked along the corridor to the end, where the top of a flight of stairs could be seen. It was deserted. ‘Come along!’ he said again, and walked slowly towards the door which had closed, treading so carefully that his spurs did not clink. Nadya hastened after him, her slippered feet making no sound on the thick carpet.

They stopped at the door, which was a double one with ornate lever handles, below one of which was a keyhole. Andrei glanced both ways along the corridor, then crouched down and peered through it.

Scandalised, Nadya put a restraining hand on his shoulder. He stood up, shook his head, then pressed gently on one handle of the door and eased it open a crack.

Efrem Schevich’s voice could now be heard quite clearly, saying in sympathetic tones, ‘I’m sorry, my dear! I thought his sister would have had the decency to tell you he’s in love with the Princess! Of course, that’s no bar to his marrying you, as she’s not free. No doubt his offer to you was genuine enough, particularly if he though it likely he’d put you in a—er—difficult condition, and he’s an honourable man, so he’ll probably marry you anyway, despite there being no need after all. But he’ll expect you to turn a blain eye to his relationship with Princess Volkhova.’

‘What do you mean, “in a difficult condition”?’ Irina suddenly demanded. She sounded as if she had been crying, but there was a dangerous note in her voice which Schevich failed to notice.

‘You know quite well what I mean,’ he said as if he was addressing a child. ‘Of course, when he finds that the reason for his offer does not, after all, exist, he may well decide to buy you off instead. Had he given any hint of that in his letters?’

‘No, he has not!’ Irina sounded even more dangerous, but Schevich was now so absorbed in his own performance that he hardly listened to her.

‘No? Well, as I said, he’s an honourable fellow! Still, even if he does marry you, I’m sure you can see how intolerable your position would be! Why wait to be humiliated in that fashion? Why not make your own move first, before he returns?’

‘What do you mean?’ Irina sounded so cold and angry that Nadya marvelled at Schevich’s complacency.

‘Why, I mean that you should be gone when he arrives! This very night, if you wish! We could leave now, slip away from this ball, and set out for Moscow at once. You need bring nothing with you, for I’ll provide all that you could wish. You shall have a fine house, clothes, jewels, your own carriage—whatever you desire. Of course, under the circumstances, you can’t expect me to—er—formalise the relationship, but if you prove pleasing, maybe in time…’

‘Are you inviting me to become your mistress?’ Irina’s voice was like an icicle as it cut across his smooth speech.

‘Well, if you prefer it bluntly—yes!’

‘I find your insolence intolerable!’ Irina informed him. ‘Kindly let me pass!’

‘Come now—you won’t extract a better offer by playing coy!’ Schevich exclaimed, half-laughing. ‘So just drop the haughty lady, and I’ll take a kiss on account!’

‘Let me go!’ Irina suddenly sounded frightened.

‘That’s more than enough!’ Andrei observed, flung open, the double doors, and stalked into the room.

Peering round him, Nadya saw Irina struggling to free herself from Schevich, who swung round as Andrei entered, releasing her so suddenly that she almost fell over. Nadya whisked past the two men, caught Irina by the arm and pulled her well clear, with a table and two chairs between them and the men, who were glaring at each other like two dogs discussing a bone.

‘Who asked you to interfere?’ snarled Schevich.

‘Oh, I’m here on behalf of a friend.’ Andrei sounded quite calm, but his face looked furious until he blanked his expression a fraction after he had spoken. ‘Lev Orlov, you know. Countess Barova’s fiance. You may think yourself lucky that he’s not here himself, or you’d be dancing on the end of a horsewhip by now!’

Schevich’s anger faded suddenly. ‘I—I thought—I meant to do the Countess a favour,’ he said uncertainly. ‘ I mean—someone should have warned her…’

‘Of what?’ Andrei asked coolly. ‘Something that was over and done with long before they met? Oh, go away and lose yourself before I forget your inferiority and soil my hands on you.’