Splendor (41 page)

"Come." Alexi took her arm and they walked up more steps, past the huge double doors, which had been left open. Carolyn by now expected grandeur, and was not disappointed. She was in a dimly illuminated but huge foyer, the ceiling with its gilt moldings many floors above, a vast crystal chandelier hanging there above their heads. The floors were a tawny, gold-flecked marble. There were statues, busts, and artwork everywhere.

' 'The house is large, and most of it is not used. The staff has separate quarters in the back, the family lives in the

east wing. Because Marie-Elena is not in residence, I will give you a room near Katya's."

"That would be wonderful," Carolyn said, following Al-exi. They exited the foyer, going left, down an endless corridor with gleaming wood floors. Carolyn passed salon after salon, managing a hurried peek into each one, as the doors were open. She could only gUmpse for an instant the huge Persian rugs and wall-sized tapestries, gold and crystal chandeliers, the portraits and landscapes, and the clusters of magnificent furniture upholstered in brocades, velvets, and damasks, all in strong, vibrant colors of royal-blues and purples, reds and golds—all now faded with time and use. The palace was clearly royal, and as clearly, it was ancestral; many generations had lived in it.

They turned down hall after hall. Carolyn was lost. But Alexi finally pushed open a pair of gleaming wood doors and announced that they were in the east wing. ' 'The pubUc rooms are on the ground floor—the salons, the music room, and so on. The family rooms are on the first story, the master suites on the second, as are the guest rooms. Katya sleeps on the third story. I believe Taichili does as well. Signor Raffaldi has his own rooms in the city."

"I am lost," Carolyn said sheepishly.

Alexi's smile was warm. "Never mind. Katya knows the palace—all of it, I think—like the back of her hand. You know, when she is angry, she will disappear for hours at a time."

Carolyn's smile faded. "I did not know," she said, as they went upstairs.

They found Katya and Taichili in a lush, overly appointed salon, one that was large but, in comparison with what Carolyn had just seen, seemed intimate and cozy now. A fire roared in the beautifully carved wood hearth. Katya was curled up in a huge crimson chair, a book on her lap. The kitten, now grown into a small cat, played with a ball of yam at her feet. Taichili sat on a sofa, and Raffaldi was nowhere to be seen. Carolyn felt a surge of joy at seeing the child again, and so comfortably occupied.

"Katya," she said.

Katya looked up, eyes wide, and shrieked. She jumped out of the huge chair and flew across the many overlapping oriental rugs in the salon. And she flung her arms around Carolyn.

Carolyn stooped, hugging her, tears filling her own eyes. She had never expected such an emotional display, and she was more than pleased. She had worried endlessly about the little girl. She knelt. "I am so happy to see you," she whispered.

Katya was flushed. "Miss Browne! I did not know you were coming. I am . . . speechless."

Carolyn laughed, and from the comer of her eye, she saw Taichili, who looked stunned, and distinctly displeased. "I received your letter. I had to come. I have missed you."

Taichili sniffed.

Alexi stepped forward. "What kind of greeting is this, dushkal Have you forgotten me?"

Katya smiled. "I'm sorry," she said, as her uncle • scooped her up into his arms and then high into the air. She laughed as he set her down.

Carolyn nodded at the governess. "How are you, Taichili?"

"Browne." The governess inclined her head. "His Excellency did not inform me of your arrival."

Carolyn knew the governess meant to put her on the spot, and she was not in the mood. "His Excellency does not know I have come," she said too sweetly.

"But that is neither here nor there," Alexi intervened. "Miss Browne has so kindly agreed to return to Russia with me, and I am placing her in charge of Katya, Taichili, as was done by my brother when we were last in London."

Taichili bowed her head. "Yes, Your Highness, you are making yourself very clear. May I write to His Excellency?" She looked up, glowering.

"By all means. I am leaving tomorrow, and it is my intention to speak with my brother myself. I shall convey

your letter to him." Alexi smiled. "Do you know where he is, by the by?"

Taichili's expression changed, and briefly, Carolyn saw anxiety cross her features, and perhaps with it, fear. Carolyn was instantly uneasy. But instead of answering Alexi, she glanced with worry at Katya.

Carolyn stepped forward and took Katya's hand. "Katya, would you show me to a guest room? Alexi says I should have a room on your floor. And perhaps, while you are at it, you can show me your room?" She smiled brightly.

Alexi turned. "That is a good idea," he said evenly, without a hint of any emotion. ' 'I wish a private word with your governess in any case. Shall we all plan on an early supper together? It is almost that time, and I intend to go out this evening. There are affairs I must attend to."

Katya nodded. "Come, Miss Browne, do come," she said, smiling and tugging on Carolyn's hand.

Carolyn laughed, allowing the little girl to pull her from the room, the Persian cat following. But the moment they were in the hall, she turned and saw Alexi's expression as he closed the door behind them. It was more than grim. Her heart sank.

"This is your room?" Carolyn asked, forgetting about her concern over the conversation which was now taking place in the cozy family salon.

Katya nodded proudly. She had a bedchamber grand enough for a queen, but then, she was a princess, and it was possible if she married well that she might very well become a queen one day. It was a state bed, floor to ceiling in height, and the hangings of the canopy could be drawn at night to entirely enclose the person inside. There were two vast marble fireplaces and two seating arrangements. The entire room was done in shades of blue, green, and gold. The walls were a gold silk fabric. Katya had her own water closet, with running water, and her own sitting room—and a dressing closet. "Do you like it?" the child asked.

"Of course," Carolyn lied. It was so . .. adult. So ... grim. So ... formal. That was it. It was not a child's pretty room, but the room for an esteemed personage. It was so ... mature. "Where are your toys?"

Katya led Carolyn over to a dollhouse. It was not very miniature. It took up an entire table and was fabulously constructed, each detail precise. It was, in fact, a replica of the palace they were now in. And the tiny dolls were exquisite—princes and princesses, children and servants and guests.

"My God," Carolyn said. The dollhouse was almost as big as Katya.

"It was my birthday present when I was four," Katya said modestly.

Carolyn looked at her. What four-year-old received a gift like this? "And your other toys?"

Katya hesitated. "I don't have toys, not really."

"What did you receive for your last birthday, dear?"

Katya beamed, went to a beautiful bureau with gilded knobs, and opened a top drawer. Carolyn blinked when she produced an exquisite strand of small pearls with a diamond clasp. "I have the earrings to match," Katya said shyly.

"That is beautiful," Carolyn said honestly. But it was a gift for a debutante. Where were the toys? "Surely you have some toys, Katya?"

"I have a pony. His name is Anton. He was my birthday present when I was five. He's out back in the stables. Do you want to see him?" She was eager and hopeful and Carolyn's heart went out to her.

"Perhaps later." Carolyn wondered how she could purchase or otherwise procure some real toys for Katya. How pinched were the Sverayovs?

"I have books," Katya said helpfully.

"Well, that is wonderful," Carolyn said. "Do you want to show me to my room?" Her heart dipped a bit. She hoped it was . .. normal.

Katya led her from her bedroom and opened a door that was adjacent. "Don't you think this will do?"

And Carolyn fell in love. The room was a quarter of the size—though it was still vast—the walls were simply whitewashed, the fireplace was limestone, and it was done in shades of red, blue, and white. It was airy and fresh. The bed was a simple—in comparison—canopied affair. Carolyn walked over to the pale blue muslin draperies and pulled them open, tying them back with red tasseled cords. She smiled as the Neva River greeted her. A small dhorry was sailing past the palace at that exact moment, a gull wheeling overhead.

She blinked. On the opposite bank was another palace— or building—painted red and green, with gold domes and spires. "What a view to wake up to," she said, thinking about her small attic bedchamber at home. And then she felt a tiny pang of homesickness and regret, her father's image coming to mind. She sighed. She would write to him immediately.

"What is it, Miss Browne? Don't you like your room? If not, you may have another one. In fact, you may choose any one you want." Katya smiled encouragingly.

Carolyn walked over to her and stroked her hair as Alexi appeared on the threshold. ' T love this room. It is perfect for me, not too large, not too spectacular, I just love it." She smiled at Katya's uncle.

"Then it is yours," he said. "And if there is anything you need"—and he looked around—"such as a secretaire, just ask any of the servants. The upper servants are all fluent in French, the language we use at court, and German."

Carolyn nodded, thinking that at least there would not be any real language barrier.

He smiled and turned his attention to Katya. "Katya, why do you not tell Taichili to inform the kitchen staff of the arrival of myself and Miss Browne?''

Katya nodded and ran off, but not before scooping up the cat.

"So you are set," Alexi remarked. "And you seem pleased. I am glad."

Carolyn faced him, her heart slamming now, thinking of Nicholas. "Why is Taichili so worried? What has happened?"

Alexi hesitated.

"Is Nicholas all right?" she cried.

He held up a hand. "Whoa. Of course Niki is fine."

She swallowed, faint with relief. Carolyn turned and sat down in a pretty red and white chair. She rubbed her temples. "What has happened? Do not keep me in the dark, Alexi. I am a foreigner in a foreign country. I need to know."

"That is fair. But I do not want to alarm you. You are not in any danger. You will never be in any danger. Neither Niki nor myself would ever allow that."

Carolyn, of course, grew more alarmed. ' 'What has happened?"

"Smolensk has been burned to the ground, and they have taken Vyazma."

"Vyazma?" Carolyn asked fearfully. "Where is that?"

"Perhaps a hundred and fifty miles from Moscow, no farther."

Carolyn stood. "Where is Nicholas? Precisely?"

"With the First Army. Which, I assume, is somewhere between Vyazma and Moscow."

"Oh, God. Napoleon cannot be stopped!"

"Do not say that," Alexi snapped. "That is absurd. He will be stopped."

Carolyn nodded. "I am sorry. I am just. .. afraid."

Alexi stared. "We are all afraid," he finally said, softly. "But for very different reasons."

^ Twenty-seven ^

ALEXI was leaving. Carolyn had been up before dawn, not wanting to miss his departure. She hurried downstairs, a shawl around her shoulders, her dress far too lightweight for the Russian climate. It was exceedingly chilly out, but Carolyn had already learned that it could snow as early as October in this northern clime. As she passed through the house, the east wing was silent, all of its inhabitants still asleep. Or so Carolyn thought, until she approached the dining room. She heard Alexi's soft, masculine chuckle and Katya's higher, childish voice as well as the crackling of a cheerful fire.

Carolyn smiled. So she was not the only one who wished to say good-bye to the all-too-charming prince. She paused on the threshold. A fire blazed in the hearth, making the wood-paneled room with its intricate, exotic carvings far more than warm, but inviting and intimate. Katya, in her lawn nightclothes, was poking the fire with a stick. How pretty she was, with her dark hair in one long braid, in her beribboned nightgown. And then Alexi moved into Carolyn's view, to stand beside the child. Carolyn froze—and cried out.

He turned, his smile remaining in place. "Is something amiss?" he asked very casually.

Carolyn gaped. Alexi was not dressed in his usual trousers and tailcoat. Oh, no. He was wearing a crimson uni-

form. Gold-tasseled epaulets adorned his shoulders, gold cording and buttons his jacket. His breeches were also crimson, tucked into high, gleaming black boots. Gilded spurs winked there. "You have joined the army," she whispered, aghast and accusing.

"Actually, the cavalry," he said. "I volunteered my services last night." His smile was as easy as his tone.

"He is so handsome, is he not?" Katya cried, beaming.

Alexi knelt beside her, throwing one arm around her. "As handsome as your papa?"

Katya nodded. "More so, I think."

Alexi stood and laughed. "I think my niece has an infatuation for me." He winked at Carolyn.

But Carolyn could not smile. Not if her life depended on it. "Why?" she whispered deploringly. "Why would you do such a thing?"

"I suppose I am irresistible to the fairer sex."

"No. Why would you go and join the army, for God's sake? Is it not enough that Nicholas akeady serves your country?''

His smile, finally, faded. ' 'Perhaps I have grown tired of playing shadowy games these past eight years with an elusive enemy."

"Perhaps you are a fool," Carolyn cried, unable to deny her fears now. What if they both died?

"Perhaps," he continued, eyes flashing. "I have also become tired of these damned Frenchm^ on my land. What has happened to this city? To the people? To my people? You do not know the difference, Carolyn. This is your first time here. But I know the difference, and I am sick and tired of seeing nothing but fear on the faces of everyone I meet, fear and sadness, and worse, shame." He stared. "I am ready to drive the enemy away with my own hand. I wish to fight the danmed, bloody, accursed French."