The Ice King (3 page)

As soon as Christmas was over, it seemed no time at all before Tanya found herself squeezed into a corner of the Kirovs' shabby old sledge-carriage, with Irina, Marisha and Countess Maria alongside her on one seat, and Fedor, Count Alexei, two large Borzois and a basket of kittens opposite, gliding (and frequently jolting and bumping) along the great post road which passed through Pomeranye on its way north from Moscow to St. Petersburg.

The short winter day had faded into darkness long before they reached the city, but as soon as they passed the cattle market and crossed the bridge over the Zagorodny Canal, the wide streets of the city became tantalisingly semi-visible in the dim light of the flickering street-lanterns. Tanya rubbed frantically at the misted windows of the carriage as she peered out, shivering as much with excitement as with cold, trying to see something recognisable and memorable which she would be able to treasure in the future as the first thing she had seen in the capital.

The only thing she was able to identify with any certainty, however, was the Fontanka Canal, glittering with ice, and then the carriage lurched into a side-turning and came to a halt outside one of a long row of classically-façaded houses, and it was time for everyone to help everyone else extricate themselves from the rugs and shawls and dogs and kittens, find Irina's mislaid doll, unbury a squalling kitten trapped under a discarded rug, and run across the crisp snow on the pavement to the open door of the house, where a bewigged and liveried major-domo stood waiting to welcome them into the hall.

A row of house serfs in town livery stood to attention inside, but as soon as the family entered, they broke ranks and rushed forward, beaming with pleasure and calling out greetings, to help everyone off with their outdoor clothing and fall upon the luggage and rush it away.

Tanya gazed about her in the entrance hall, rapidly taking in the architectural details of the house, which was severely Neo-Classical in design. There was a large tile stove facing the entrance door, with a hooded porter's chair beside it. Beyond, a curtained arch led to the back of the house, presumably to the kitchen and the servants' quarters and the mews behind the house. Two rooms opened off to the right —she later found that they were the steward's room and Count Alexei's study — and a staircase with a fine wrought-iron balustrade hugged the left-hand wall and led up to a gallery on the first floor.

Once the servants had been greeted and cloaks and coats removed, the whole family went upstairs to the large salon, which ran the whole depth of the house and was reached by double doors at the end of the gallery furthest from the stairs. It had a fine marble overmantel round the open fireplace, but when Tanya admired it, never having actually seen an open fireplace before, Count Alexei said it set up a deuce of a draught, and he preferred a stove any day, but many of the newer houses in Petersburg had these nasty Western holes in their walls.

Tanya's room was on the next floor, between the schoolroom and Marisha's room, all at the front of the house, the main bedroom and dressing-rooms being at the back. Fedor and Irina were apparently housed on the third floor, and there were attics above that. The guest-room, which was now Tanya's, was quite small, but neatly and attractively furnished with white-painted furniture which, with a white porcelain stove and flowered dimity curtains and bed-hangings, gave a very light and pretty effect. Tanya discovered the next day that by craning her neck and pressing hard against the right-hand side of the window, she could just see the fine gold spire of the Admiralty, over half a mile away.

At least, she could see a spire, and she thought it must be the Admiralty one, for it had a little ship on its tip; but she did not know for sure until Fedor kindly offered to take her for a drive round after breakfast to take her first look at the city.

When they reached the magnificent bronze statue of Peter the Great on horseback, balanced on a great boulder of granite, they crossed the river on the ice to Vasilievsky Island, where they stopped on the jutting point called the Strelka, in front of the Stock Exchange and between the two pink Rostral Columns, commemorating one of Peter's victories at sea. Tanya got down from the carriage and took Fedor's arm to the embankment wall, where they stood to look at the view.

The sun picked out the white ornamental surrounds of the windows all along the sea-blue façade of the Winter Palace and the line of gesticulating statues on its roof balustrade, dazzling on the golden onion dome of the Palace Cathedral. In front stretched the whole width of the great frozen river, the ice sparkling in the wintry sunshine, and dotted with carriages, busy figures, skaters, children with sledges, whole families out for pleasure, and hawkers there to sell them hot pies, gingerbread, ribbons, or whatever else they might fancy. Tanya had never seen such buildings or so many people, but the most amazing thing was the scale of it all. Pictures gave no idea of the great width of the river, the enormous mass and size of the buildings, the dizzy height of the angel flying on the top of the needle-like spire of the Petropavlovsky Cathedral on her left. She could only look about her in sheer amazement.

EVENTUALLY, she tore herself away from the view and they returned to the mainland to skirt the edge of the Winter Palace and the square behind it, and drove down the Nevsky Prospect, stopping for a few minutes outside the Kazan Cathedral, then on past the Gostinny Dvor with its little shops, across the Fontanka, past the Anichkov Palace and the Winter Market to the Alexander Nevsky monastery.

From there they drove by the river to the Smolny Cathedral, pausing for a glimpse while Tanya distractedly murmured, "Rastrelli — oh, how lovely!" Then there was another glimpse, this time of the Tavrichesky Palace, Fedor supplying "Starov," when Tanya hesitated over the name of the architect.

The route home took them past one fine building after another until even Tanya's enthusiastic head was spinning. They were home in time for luncheon, and she could only answer the family's enquiries whether she had enjoyed her flying tour by raising her hands and smiling speechlessly.

It happened to be a Thursday, which was Countess Maria's At Home day, and during the afternoon the family sat in the salon and received a number of callers who came to exchange news and gossip about their various Christmas activities. Tanya was made known to them, and found it not nearly so much of an ordeal as she had expected.

One of the callers was Count Boris Kalinsky, a very pleasant young man of about Tanya's own age, with smooth dark hair, regular features, and large, expressive black eyes. The family called him "Boris", and it was clear that he was on easy, friendly terms with them all. Tanya noticed that he seemed to make a point of murmuring something to Marisha as he kissed her hand as if she were already Out, and that Marisha smiled as she replied in an unusually lively manner: Presently, Boris came to sit beside Tanya on one of the little gilt sofas set about the room, and enquired about her first impressions of Petersburg. She had managed to digest something of her packed morning of sightseeing, and mentioned the buildings which had particularly impressed her, expressing surprise that the Admiralty was already being rebuilt, whereas many of the simple wooden houses of Peter's time were still standing, looking curiously shabby and rustic amid the later glories of brick and stone.

“The Winter Palace is the fifth on the site," Boris replied. "I think that many of the earlier State buildings, as opposed to the private residences, have proved too small. You must be finding it all a little overwhelming as you've not lived in a city before."

“Indeed," Tanya replied, "and you must think me very provincial, for I suppose your family owns one of the houses here, and you have been here all your life?"

“In fact, not quite," Boris said, smiling engagingly, and Tanya thought him most attractive. "My family lives mostly in Moscow, or in the country, for my mother is delicate and doesn't go into society. I was sent here into the Cadets as a child, and I remember how vast everything seemed after the smaller scale of Moscow. We have an estate not far from Yaroslavl, which I understand is your own part of the Empire?"

“Why, yes!" Tanya replied, surprised. "But how did you know?"

“Oh, Nikolai Ilyich told me." Boris gazed at her soulfully. "I'm extremely glad he bade me look out for you."

“Heavens!" thought Tanya. "I do believe he's flirting with me!”

The novelty was so diverting that she forgot to be embarrassed, but she wondered if she ought to set him down in some way. However, it all seemed harmless enough, and he was not behaving improperly, so perhaps it was allowable. "I'm more puzzled now," she said aloud. "Who is Nikolai Ilyich, and why should he tell you about me?"

“Prince Nikolai Volkhov, Maria Nikolaevna's cousin,"Boris replied. "We were standing about together at the Palace last night, waiting for Alexander Pavlovich, and he told me you were expected in Petersburg, and asked me to look out for you if I came to call." Seeing that Tanya still looked puzzled, he elaborated, "We are both Gentlemenin-Waiting. The Winter Palace. Alexander Pavlovich is the Emperor." Tanya still looked puzzled.

“But how did he know about me, and why should he mention me to you?" she asked.

“Oh, it's the usual thing," Boris explained. "When a young lady has her first Season, her family ask one of their friends at Court to keep an eye on her and find her a few suitable partners from among his friends, to help launch her, you know.”

Tanya thought this a very good idea and said so, adding, "And very kind, too, for he's never seen me and cannot tell what he may be letting himself and his friends in for."

“Oh, Nikolai's always kind, poor fellow," Boris replied vaguely, his attention distracted for a moment by a sudden burst of laughter from a group on the other side of the room. He immediately turned back to Tanya and continued, "And none of us will regret it in this case, I assure you!”

Tanya felt her colour rise at the compliment, and Boris took his leave soon after with every appearance of regret at having to go so soon, and promising to look out for her at the ball that evening.

Preparations for the ball took far longer than Tanya had dreamed possible. One of the housemaids, Natasha, had been promoted to be her maid, and she spent a great deal of time dressing her, arranging her dark red silk gown with its pale rose gauze overskirt to hang exactly as it should, and then Tanya's hair must be coaxed into a different style, parted far back across the top, with the front pulled forward and made to curl becomingly about her face, and the back twisted into a chignon of plaits and curls, trimmed with narrow velvet ribbons to match her gown, and a pearl comb holding it all in place. Tanya watched it all in the mirror, and hardly knew herself in this strange guise. She certainly looked very fashionable, and not unattractive, but she felt uncomfortably naked about the bosom, what with the low cut of her bodice and the upthrust of her high-waisted corset.

Countess Maria took even longer to dress, for she had to dart across every few minutes to see how Tanya was progressing. Twice she ran upstairs to look in on Irina, who was not even pretending to be asleep, and when she was almost ready, she suddenly decided to wear a different gown. Count Alexei and Fedor, who had been dressed and ready for a long time, sat philosophically in the salon, and when Tanya joined them they were discussing a pair of horses which Fedor had noticed during the morning's drive, without the slightest sign of impatience.

In the coach on the way to Ruschev Palace, Tanya recalled some fragments of what she had read about the building, and found that it helped her not to feel nervous. She remembered that Rastrelli had said that this was his own favourite of all the buildings he had designed for St. Petersburg, and that it had a very interesting staircase which she had often wished she might see. She snuggled into her fur-lined velvet cloak with a little shiver of excitement and anticipation.

The house was as beautiful as she had expected, and she gazed about her entranced as a footman helped her off with her hooded cloak and she followed Alexei and Maria up the magnificent staircase in the tide of fashionably-dressed, chattering people ascending to be greeted by their host and hostess. She noticed that most of the ladies' gowns were even more low-cut than her own, and most of them glittered with jewels. Very tall footmen lined the staircase, in pairs on the opposite sides of every third step, and she felt that they would regard her as an ignorant provincial if she tried to peer between
them at the wrought-ironwork, much as she wished to see it.

Prince Stepan Ruschev and his wife greeted her with gracious charm for her aunt and uncle's sake. The Prince was a thin, elderly man, who Tanya thought looked tired and bored, and the Princess had the looks and lack of animation of a fashion-plate. Tanya wondered if either of them really enjoyed entertaining all these people.

When she entered the great ballroom, she almost forgot to breathe in the excitement of seeing such a masterpiece of Baroque. The pale gold of the walls set off the gleaming white of the swirling plasterwork decorations, and the whole was ablaze with crystal chandeliers flashing blue darts of light from their lustres and from the jewels of the dancers.