“When are you leaving?” she asked, her lips against his hair.
“I am supposed to leave immediately after the funerals, tomorrow.” He raised his head to look at her. “But I shall not go. I shall resign my commission. I shall stay here with you.”
She smiled, and kissed him. “You would soon grow to hate me. As you said, you are a soldier. You have a career. I will only agree to stay if you will agree to go. There will be furloughs, will there not?”
“But I want you...”
“You have me, Peter. For today and tonight. Then you must go away, and come back, in the course of time. And I shall find you a wife.”
“I will still love only you, desire only you.”
“Perhaps,” she said. “You will still need a wife. Aren’t you going to finish undressing me? You are not addressing the family for another forty-five minutes.”
*
Collins was hovering in the corridor. She could tell at a glance that Anna had both undressed and dressed again during the past half hour; apart from the somewhat disordered clothing, her hair had come down and she had left it like that. Collins’ nose twitched. “This is a splendid place, ma’am,” she said. “Is it true we are going to stay for awhile?”
“Awhile, Collins,” Anna said, and descended the great staircase.
Duncan was waiting at the foot. “And I thought that place in Poltava was a palace.”
“It is a palace,” Anna told him. “This is a home.”
“The Prince going to put them all in the picture, now?” Duncan asked.
“Yes.” Anna led him towards the small, winter parlour. “Think there’ll be a ruckus?”
“No.”
A bowing footman opened the door for her, and she led Duncan into the room. The sisters and Olga were already present together with Gleb the butler, Father Sviastoslav, and another man, well-dressed but elderly and clearly an employee. Anna knew he had to be the estate manager, although she did not recognise him. “This is Captain Antonov, Aunt Anna,” Peter explained. His eyes glowed as he looked at her, but he gave her no other indication that fifteen minutes before they had lain naked in each other’s arms. “He is an ex-soldier, wounded in the last campaign against the Turks and forced to retire.”
The captain limped forward to bow over Anna’s glove. “It is a great honour to meet you at last, Your Excellency. I have heard so much about you.”
“None of it good, I would hope,” Anna smiled.
“Gleb!” Peter commanded. Gleb opened the doors again, and the footmen came in with the trays of glasses of champagne. Peter raised his flute. “I bid you welcome to Bolugayen. Especially you, Aunt Anna, and you, Cousin Duncan. I wish the occasion could be a happier one, but as it is not...I drink to the dead.” He drained his glass, and then hurled it into the fireplace. The women followed his example, as did the priest and Antonov. Duncan looked at his mother, and when she gave him a brief nod, hurled his glass as well. The footmen passed the trays again. “Now,” Peter said. “I drink to the living.”
This time the footmen waited before offering another round. “I am required to leave Bolugayen tomorrow, immediately after the funeral of the late Prince and Princess,” Peter said. “I do not know when my duties will permit me to return. Certainly not before next spring. However, Aunt Anna has graciously consented to remain on Bolugayen and act as my deputy. I wish this clearly understood by everyone. Madame Cromb, who from now on will again be known as the Countess Bolugayevska, is in complete control of everything that I own, or for which I am responsible, here on Bolugayen. Her decisions will be absolute, and final.” He looked from face to face. Now they were all as thunderstruck as Duncan.
Peter smiled. “Shall we dine?”
*
Duncan sat up as his door opened, gazed in a mixture of consternation and delight as the white-clad figure sidled into the darkness, closing the door behind herself. “Patricia?”
“I promised you that you would sleep with me, in my bed, in Bolugayen. Well, yours will have to do this time.”
“I thought you hated me.”
She stood beside the bed. “I do. But I belong to you.”
He caught her round the waist and pulled her down on top of him. “I adore you. I will always adore you. Listen...”
“I know you are being sent away. But you will come back.” She kissed him, and hitched up her nightdress to spread her legs and straddle him. “Then we will marry.”
“Mom...”
“Will try to marry me off. I know. But I will not let her. Say again that you love me. That you will always love me.”
“I love you. I will always love you.”
“Then nothing can ever come between us,” she said.
*
Peter watched the room lighten, even behind the drawn curtains. “Oh, how I wish to stay,” he said.
“As I wish you to stay,” Anna lied. “But you have too much to do, as have I. Listen. I wish you to put my authority as your deputy in writing and have it witnessed by Father Sviatoslav and Captain Antonov. I wish six copies.”
“Six?”
“I think that will be sufficient for the time being. Now, I intend to come to St Petersburg just as soon as the thaw sets in. Will you arrange to have the house ready? I also wish a sufficient number of invitations.”
“Of course. But why do you not come now? Everyone will be in Petersburg now. By the spring they will all be preparing to leave.”
“The court is in mourning,” she reminded him. “There will be nothing happening. Besides, I wish to prepare to be a Russian countess again. And everyone will still be there in the spring, whatever their plans. That will be a good time for me to reappear, like an end of season surprise. Incidentally, I will have the girls with me.”
He rose on his elbow to frown at her. “Both of them?”
“Well, of course. I cannot so immediately reduce Sophie to a second-class citizen. And I do intend to see what can be done about her. But Patricia is the important one. I intend to find her a husband, just as soon as possible, so that you can have an heir, just as soon as possible.”
He gazed down at her face, so serene, pillowed on her wide-spread gold-and-white hair. “You intend Patricia’s son to be my heir?”
“In the first instance, yes. Once you marry again, and have a son of your own, of course then Patricia’s son will be relegated to second in line. Don’t worry, she may be English, but she will marry a Russian, and we will adopt him into the family, as we did with your father.”
Peter lay down again. “I am surprised that you have not put forward one of your own sons, to be adopted as the next Prince Bolugayevski.”
Anna rolled on her side to throw her leg across his thighs and kiss him on the cheek. “Do you not suppose I have given that some thought? However, it cannot be. My sons would be like fishes out of water, here in Russia. Liberalism is all very well, but American liberalism could be disastrous to Bolugayen. In fact, I wish you to do me a favour, and take Duncan with you, when you leave. You are going to St Petersburg?”
“Of course. But...you are sending Duncan away.”
“I am sending him home. He has his education to complete. Take him to St Petersburg, and put him on a ship for Boston before the Baltic freezes over.”
CHAPTER 6 - THE CHATELAINE
“You’ll write every month,” Anna told Duncan.
“Every month. And I’ll hold you to your promise, Mama.”
She kissed him. “As soon as you have graduated.”
He shook hands with Sophie, then stopped in front of Patricia; “I’ll be coming back,” Duncan said.
“I’ll look forward to it,” Patricia said, her voice less cool than usual. “We have had quite an adventure together.”
“You can say that again.” He hesitated, then grasped her shoulders, leaning forward to kiss her on the cheek. But she turned her head, and their lips met.
“Do hurry,” she murmured, her cheeks pink.
Anna had of cour
se watched the exchange, hut now she was distracted by Peter. “I will write also,” he said. “But I look forward to seeing you, in the spring. The house will be waiting.”
“I can hardly wait to see it again. And you, of course.” She presented her cheek for a chaste kiss. “Take care,” she whispered.
Anna went to the study, where her father and after him, Colin, had sat in omnipotent splendour, dispensing justice, certainly within the House. She rang the golden bell, and Gleb entered almost immediately. “Your Excellency.”
“Bring me the girl, Li-su. And Mademoiselle Collins.”
Gleb bowed, and a few minutes later Li-su shuffled into the room, followed by the maid.
Anna did not invite her to sit down; Collins, who stood beside her, would never have dreamed of doing so. “Do you like it here, Li-su?” she asked, in English.
“It is...how you say...magnif...magnif...”
“Magnificent. I agree with you. Li-su, I am fond of you. Are you sad that my son has left?”
Li-su hung her head. “Very sad, Your Excellency.”
“Then you must stay close to me. As of this moment you are my second maid. You will take your orders from Miss Collins.”
“I understand, Your Excellency. Does that mean I will be coming to St Petersburg with you?”
Anna smiled. “Why, yes, it probably does. If you prove yourself a good servant. You may go.”
Li-su gave Collins an anxious glance, then hurried from the room. “Do you think this is wise, ma’am?” Collins asked.
“I think it is best,” Anna said. “Mr Duncan is very fond of this young woman. And I think Mr Duncan will probably be returning to Russia, in the course of time. I think that by the time he does Li-su’s allegiance should belong to you and me, rather than him. Do you understand me, Collins?”
“I believe so, ma’am.”
“So...you must teach her her duties. But you must also be gentle with her, and only chastise her if she gets unreasonably out of hand. Understood?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Collins licked her lips. “It is to be my judgement, or yours, ma’am...that the girl is out of hand. Unreasonably.”
Well, well, Anna thought. You have been my personal maid for ten years, and I have never given your private feelings a second thought. How careless of me. “It will be our personal judgement, Collins,” she said.
*
When Collins had bathed her and brushed her hair, assisted for the first time by Li-su, all eager impatience, Anna lay on her bed beneath the covers and surveyed the ceiling. Even with the fire blazing in the grate there was still an element of chill, for the wind had got up and the snow outside was drifting. She had slept in this bed last night, with Peter at her side. But now she was alone. Bolugayen was hers. Oh, how happy she was. She was always happy when there were things to be done, which could only be done by her — and for which she had the power. But mostly her thoughts were centred on St Petersburg. On her re-entry into Russian society. What a stir that would make.
Which was why she had determined not to accompany Peter. For one thing, she did not want there to be any scandal; she had had enough of that in her life. But for another she wanted to wait in the wings for awhile, gathering her strength, as it were, regaining all her past powers and prerogatives. Meeting, and disposing of, any minor challenges that might be going to arise. As, perhaps, here was the first one, she thought, listening to the tap on her door. “Come.” Patricia sidled into the room, wearing a dressing-gown. “Well,” Anna said. “It’s been a long time.”
Patricia crossed the room to sit on the bed. “I’ve been upset.”
“Of course. But now you’re home things look better.”
“I don’t know. Will you hug me?”
Anna took her in her arms, discovered the girl was not wearing a nightdress. But if she was again determined to ape her aunt in all things, that might be a good thing. “You must pick up the pieces of your life,” she said softly. “There’s a lot of it ahead of you. And now there is no need for you to come to me, secretly, in the middle of the night. You may come to me whenever you wish.”
“Why did you send Duncan away?”
“He has his education to complete.”
“But he will be coming back?”
Anna released her and lay down again. “If he wishes.”
“Of course he will wish to do so,” Patricia said. “And when he comes back, we will be married.”
“No,” Anna said.
Patricia stared at her in the gloom. “We love each other. He was the father of my child.”
“You committed a crime together,” Anna said. “And that you miscarried, at a time when no one was paying too much attention to you, was a most fortunate event for you.”
“How can you say that? I thought you loved me.”
“I do love you, Trisha. Or at least, I am prepared to do so. But none of us is an island.” Except me, she thought, with some satisfaction. “You have a duty, to the family. It does not appear that Peter is going to marry again, and although I fully intend to find a husband for Sophie, I have no great hopes of her children. So you must marry and have a son, to be the heir to Bolugayen.”
“Can’t Alexei be the heir?”
“The Prince of Bolugayen must have some Russian blood.”
“Papa had no Russian blood.”
“Your father was an exceptional man, and came to us in exceptional circumstances. He is unlikely to be repeated.”
“Well, then, why cannot Duncan be the father of my child? He has Russian blood. Your Russian blood.”
“Yes, but he also happens to be your cousin.”
“Kings and queens marry their cousins.”
“And it usually turns out very badly. My dearest Trish, you simply have to put Duncan out of your mind. I am going to find you a splendid husband. In the spring. In St Petersburg.”
Patricia flounced off the bed. “I don’t want a splendid husband, if he is going to be a Russian. Russian husbands beat their wives, never let them go out, treat them like slaves. Mama has told me all about it.”
“Your mother was recalling her own girlhood, here on Bolugayen. Things have changed, believe me.”
Patricia had been staring at the window. Now she turned, violently. “You come here, and try to take over our lives, and tell us what to do...we got along very well for a long time without you.”
“Now you are being rude,” Anna pointed out. “That I do not punish you for it is that I consider you are still distraught. Now I do suggest you go to bed before you say something stupid.”
“I will not marry a Russian, Aunt Anna.”
“Patricia, darling, you are going to marry whoever I choose.”
Patricia glared at her in the gloom, then ran from the room, slamming the doors.
Anna got out of bed, pulled on her dressing gown, thrust her toes into fur-lined slippers, and went out of her apartment on to the gallery. This was deserted, as it was nearly midnight. She walked along to the door to Patricia’s apartment. This also had been violently slammed. Anna opened the door and went inside, crossing the sitting-room, and opened the bedroom door. Patricia was lying across her bed, the dressing gown discarded. At the sound of her door opening she raised her head and reached for the garment, then glowered at her aunt. “What do you want?”
“I wish you to reveal some manners,” Anna said. “Get up.”
“Why should I?”
“If you do not get up,” Anna said quietly, “I shall ring the bell and summon the servants to lift you up. Would you like me to do that?” Patricia hesitated, then pushed herself up. “Put on your robe,” Anna commanded. Patricia shrugged herself into her dressing gown. “Now come back to my apartment,” Anna said.
“What for?”
“You have two doors to close, properly,” Anna told her. Patricia gave her another glare, then walked in front of her along the gallery, into Anna’s apartment. “Quietly,” Anna said.
Patricia closed the two doors. “M
ay I go to bed now?”
“In a moment. You will apologise.”
They were standing in the gallery, outside Anna’s door. “I have nothing to apologise for,” Patricia said.
“I think you do. In any event, it is necessary for you to obey me.”
“Why should I?”
“Because Prince Peter put me in charge of you, and so, if you do not obey me, absolutely, I shall have to punish you.”
Patricia tossed her head. She was both taller and more strongly built than her aunt. “Then I shall go to my room, and you may seal me in, on bread and water.”
“But you will not apologise?”
“To you? Never.”
“Very well,” Anna said. “Then, as you say, we shall go to your room.”
Patricia hesitated, uncertain. “I suppose you’re going to read me a lecture.”
“No,” Anna said. “I am going to flog you.”
“You...what?”
“I am going to give you six strokes with your riding crop.”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
“I shall count to ten,” Anna said. “And if you are not in your room by then, I shall make it seven.” Patricia looked from left to right. “One,” Anna said. “Two. Three...”
“I shall scream the house down,” Patricia said.
“I am sure you will. Four. Five...”
“You can’t do this,” Patricia insisted.
“If you attempt to resist me in any way, I shall call Gleb and the footmen to hold you down. Would you like that? Six, seven...” Patricia turned and ran along the gallery to her room. Anna walked behind her. “Eight, nine...” Patricia slammed the door shut. “Open the door, Patricia,” Anna said, quietly. “I have reached ten. That means seven strokes. Now I shall start counting again. Would you like eight strokes?” Panting, Patricia opened the door. “Thank you,” Anna said. “Now go and fetch your riding crop.”
“Listen,” Patricia said.
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