The Masters

by Christopher Nicole

  “I hate you,” Patricia said. “One day I am going to kill you.”

  “One day you are going to grow up,” Anna suggested.

  “So, are you going to whip me again?” Patricia looked from face to face of the Peretzs as she spoke.

  “Very probably,” Anna agreed. “Only this time I shall really hurt you. Now go and have your bath.” The waiting maidservants looked at the countess’s bound wrists. “Oh, release her,” Anna said. “But stay with her at all times. And you have my permission to use force to restrain her, if it becomes necessary.” Patricia glared at her, then stumbled from the room. “Now, Madame Peretz,” Anna said. “I am going to have to crave your indulgence for a bed for the night, for the girls as well as myself, and my groom.”

  “Oh, indeed, Your Excellency, indeed,” Madame Peretz gushed,. She would dine out off this evening for the rest of her life.

  *

  Anna inspected both of her nieces after their bath. She began with Sophie, who lay in a bed in one of the Peretz’s bedrooms, blankets pulled to her chin. As Anna had instructed, a maid sat in the room with her. “How do you feel?” Anna asked.

  “I feel sick,” Sophie muttered.

  “That is understandable.” Anna stood by the bed and threw back the clothes.

  “What on earth...” Sophie made an abortive grab, but Anna caught her wrist. “What are you doing?”

  “Discovering how badly you have damaged yourself,” Anna told her. “Lie still.” Sophie gasped, and obeyed, utterly bewildered. She just stared at her aunt, as Anna fingered her nose and ears. “Can you feel this?” Anna asked.

  “Yes,” Sophie said. Anna fingered her fingers and toes.

  “You are a lucky young woman,” Anna told her.

  Patricia had also escaped frostbite, although there was a rough area on the lobe of her left ear which was not as sensitive as it should have been. Anna bathed it in warm water, while her niece stared at her. “When you die,” Patricia said, “I am going to dance on your coffin.”

  Anna smiled. “You should not look so far ahead,” she told her.

  *

  “Now,” Anna said the next morning. “Are you going to behave yourselves? I am perfectly willing to have you board the train with your hands bound.”

  “We will not try to escape,” Sophie said.

  “That is very sensible of you,” Anna agreed.

  She bade a formal farewell to Colonel Peretz and his wife, and then the Colonel escorted them to the railway station, Rurik following with the valises. “Does he have to share our compartment?” Patricia grumbled, as Rurik sat beside her aunt in the first-class carriage.

  “Indeed he does.”

  “Because he is your lover! Everyone knows that.”

  “Do remember, my dear,” Anna said, “that, as they say in the police courts, everything you say will be taken down, at least in my memory, and may be used against you.”

  “Ha!” Patricia commented. But in fact she was very frightened. She had tossed, and lost. She had already had some evidence of how ruthlessly Anna could punish. She drew a long breath. “I demand the right to write to my brother Alexei.”

  “Have you not already done so?” Anna asked. “Then you were planning to surprise him?” Patricia glared at her. “Of course you may write to your brother,” Anna said. “I am sure he will be pleased to hear from you.”

  “What are you going to do to us?” Sophie muttered.

  “Do you not suppose you have been punished enough?” Anna asked. “I am sure you have the sense not to attempt to run away again.”

  CHAPTER 7 - THE BETROTHAL

  Anna reckoned she had won a complete victory. Having shown her nieces that she could be vicious, and demonstrated that she would not let them defy her, she now embarked upon a programme of affection and interest, spent at least an hour every day in their company, with them devoured the reports of the royal wedding — although this was a muted affair. “I don’t think we missed too much there,” she remarked.

  To Sophie and Patricia’s great delight, Alexei managed to get home for Christmas; to Anna’s disappointment, Peter did not. But it was good to see Alexei again. He had attended the wedding, in his capacity as an officer of the Imperial Guard, and was able to give them first-hand accounts of the various gowns, as well as of the guests. As for the Tsaritsa... “She has claims to beauty,” he told them. “But her face is somewhat stiff. That may just have been nerves, of course. Certainly His Majesty dotes on her.”

  “Of course,” Anna agreed. “Now tell us of the Tsar.”

  “Ah, the Tsar!” Alexei said fervently. “He is young, handsome...he wears a full beard, but beautifully shaped. His voice is quiet, his eyes bright, his manner certain.”

  “Is he as tall as his father?”

  “No, no. He is quite a little man, really. But he will prove a great tsar.”

  “I am delighted to hear it. What of his politics?”

  “Well, they are really of the best. He seeks liberalism, but he will tolerate no infringements of his prerogatives, and he is determined to stamp out terrorism.”

  “You like this man,” Anna suggested.

  “I adore him, Aunt Anna. And so does the entire army.”

  “Then no doubt we are set fair for a period of great peace and prosperity,” Anna said.

  *

  Although Alexei had undoubtedly been told the entire story by the girls he maintained a respectful affection for Anna, and although she could tell that he was anxious for a private conversation, she refused to permit it until the festivities were over. The evening before he left she invited him into her study before supper, gestured him to a chair, and sat beside him. “This is the first opportunity I have had to tell you privately how sorry I was about your mother’s death,” she said.

  “I understand that, Aunt Anna, and I am grateful. I only wish I had been there.”

  “One is often unable to be where one would prefer to be,” she agreed. “Have you seen anything of Peter, this last month?”

  “We had dinner together just before I left Petersburg.” He glanced at her. “He put me in the picture.”

  She could not believe Peter would have confessed their affair to his half-brother, and decided to assume that he had not. “He felt it was best there was someone in complete control here. Indeed, necessary. I assume you have spoken with your sisters?”

  He swallowed. “Yes.”

  “That too was necessary, as it is necessary for them to marry and have children. They are Bolugayevskas. They have a duty, not only to the family, but to Russia.”

  “I understand that.” He gave a quick smile. “I believe they understand that too, now.”

  “When are you going to get married?” she asked.

  He flushed. “Should a soldier get married?”

  “A soldier should get married and become a father before anyone else, as by the nature of his profession he may have less time at his disposal.”

  “I never thought of that.”

  “Shall I put you on my marriage list? You do enjoy women?”

  “Very much.”

  “That relieves me greatly.”

  “And the girls?”

  “That is up to them, Alexei.”

  He hesitated over what he would say next. “Patricia is, well, Patricia. And she, well...”

  “Has conceived a passion for her cousin Duncan.”

  Anna wondered if Patricia had confessed just how far she had gone with Duncan. “You understand this cannot happen?”

  “Yes, I understand that.”

  “So the sooner I get her married off the better.”

  “You will...choose carefully? I would hate to see my baby sister hurt.”

  “I shall choose carefully, Alexei. What about your other sister?”

  “I assume you know what happened with her? She was quite hysterical. Mama feared for her mind.”

  “Isn’t that rather odd?”

  “Well...” He shrugged. “Some people
are different.”

  “And you consider I would be taking a risk with her sanity, by forcing her into marriage.”

  “I think it is something that needs to be considered.”

  “Then I shall consider it. I think we understand each other very well, Alexei. I am very happy about that. I look forward to seeing much more of you, in the spring.”

  *

  Alexei’s visit seemed to remove the last antagonism between the girls and their aunt. But Patricia no longer sought the intimacy of those midnight visits. There was no telling what was going on inside the girl’s mind, but Anna was prepared for anything once they reached St Petersburg. On the other hand, Patricia had never been to St Petersburg, as an adult, and only once in any event, as a pre-teenage girl. At every opportunity Anna painted word pictures of the excitement and febrility of the capital, of the balls they would both throw and attend, of the clothes...she had the Bolugayen dressmakers sewing away to create lavish gowns for all three of them, in the latest fashion, using yards of crepe and satin, silk, velvet and fur. Patricia was quite unable to resist the magnificence in which she was being clad, and her excitement visibly grew.

  Sophie was an entirely different matter. She had been eighteen when she had gone to St Petersburg with her parents, and she had remained there, a bride, for a brief period before fleeing home. That first annulment had caused a considerable scandal. Anna could not risk another.

  *

  Anna stood at the window of the train as it pulled into St Petersburg Central. Moscow had been exciting, but St Petersburg was where she wanted to be. Had wanted to be, at least for the odd season, for thirty years. Patricia stood beside her. “Oh, it’s beautiful!” she exclaimed. “All those canals.”

  “They call it the Venice of the North,” Anna told her. “Do you not remember it at all?”

  “Not really. I was very small.”

  “But you must remember it, Sophie,” Anna said.

  “I remember it very well,” Sophie said, without getting up. But even she was excited, Anna could tell.

  Although it was mid-April it was still very cold —the canals were frozen in places — and they wrapped themselves up in their furs for the short journey to the Bolugayevski Palace, which was just off the Nevski Prospect. Anna had been disappointed that neither Peter nor Alexei had been at the station to greet them, but she could not fault the house. As with Bolugayen and Poltava and Moscow, it had been completely refurbished at least once in the past thirty years, the blue and gold carpeting and drapes resplendently rich. She knew none of the servants, of course. “I am Dmitri, Your Excellency,” the butler said. “Welcome to St Petersburg.”

  “Thank you, Dmitri. It is good to be here.”

  He escorted her down the line of bowing maids and flunkies. The housekeeper was Madame Popov, and she escorted Anna and Collins to the master apartment. “Prince Peter said that you were to have these rooms, Your Excellency,” she explained.

  “That will be very nice, thank you,” Anna said. “Is the Prince in town?”

  “Oh, indeed Your Excellency. I understand that he will be here shortly.”

  He came half an hour later, and she received him in her boudoir. “Oh my dearest, dearest Anna!” He held her close while he kissed her forehead and eyes, nose and cheeks and chin before coming to rest on her lips.

  “You make me feel like a girl again,” she told him.

  “To me you are a girl. You will always be a girl.” He sat beside her. “Is everything satisfactory?”

  “Everything is most satisfactory, now that you are here.”

  “And the girls?”

  “You will have to ask them.”

  “They have been writing me letters.”

  “I can imagine. Do you wish to replace me?”

  “Replace you? I think you have done them a world of good. And now...” He had placed his wallet on the table. Now he opened it, and took out a sheaf of papers. “Invitations.”

  “Oh, Peter!” She sifted through them. “Princess Poniatowska! The Grand Duchess! The Tsaritsa!” She looked up. “How did you do it?”

  “I simply let it be known that the Countess Anna Bolugayevska was coming to town. They all want to see this famous woman.”

  “The Tsaritsa?”

  “She as much as anyone. You know what women are.”

  “I should.”

  “I have taken the opportunity of accepting them all.”

  “I see that, and thank you. But what of our own. We must also have a ball.”

  “Absolutely. It is arranged for the Fifteenth of May. It will be the last event of the season. I took the liberty of preparing the guest list for you.”

  Anna scrutinised it. “Will Their Majesties come?”

  “I think they will, yes. They have accepted, at any rate. You will note that every invitation includes your nieces.”

  “Oh, indeed. It will be a cattle market.”

  “Just be sure you sell well, dearest aunt.”

  *

  Peter’s duties meant that he was not available as an escort on every occasion, and neither was Alexei, although he came to the house whenever possible. And the ladies had to have an escort to attend the balls, the opera and the ballet. Thus Peter brought Colonel Count Ivan Pobrebski to dinner. “Your Excellency!” The Count bent over Anna’s glove. “Mademoiselles.” He did the same to the two girls, who were also wearing new dinner gowns.

  “How nice to meet you, Count,” Anna said.

  He was a striking man, being tall and broad-shouldered, with dark hair, thick and curling, and he wore a thick black moustache. He was wearing a dinner suit, but he was clearly a military man. “Pobrebski is a colonel in the Cossacks, Aunt Anna,” Peter explained. “And there is a rumour that he will soon be a general.”

  Pobrebski was excellent company. His manners were good, and he had a string of anecdotes, mostly mildly risque, which kept them amused. He accompanied them to the Poniatowskis’ ball, and proved himself an excellent dancer, but as Peter was able to come to this one he was, certainly from Anna’s point of view, strictly redundant.

  On the other hand... “Do you think he is a possibility for Sophie?” she asked Peter in bed that night.

  He laughed. “Good heavens, no. He is a Cossack. He would terrify her out of what wits she has left. As for how he behaves in bed...!”

  “Do you mean he is more enthusiastic than you?”

  “From what I have heard, he makes me seem like a boy.”

  “How interesting,” Anna murmured, and made a decision. Pobrebski was undoubtedly the man for Patricia.

  *

  In Peter’s absence, Pobrebski accompanied them to the Grand Duchess’s ball, but this time Alexei was able to come, and again he was definitely second string. But Anna began to put her plan into action, especially when, as they waltzed, Pobrebski gave her a cue. “How long will you stay in town?” he asked.

  “Until the summer, certainly. Or until I can find husbands for my nieces. And wives for my nephews, as well.”

  “Ah! Your nieces are lovely young women.”

  “Do you really think so, Colonel?”

  “Absolutely,” he said fervently, gazing into her eyes.

  “Well,” she said. “I find that very encouraging. Is it possible for you to obtain leave, this summer?”

  He arched his eyebrows. “We are not at war with anyone, Countess. My people are employed in crowd control.”

  “Capital. Then why do you not pay us a visit on Bolugayen?”

  “I can think of nothing I would rather do.”

  Anna was delighted; she would let the romance develop naturally. Obviously finding a husband for Sophie would be somewhat more difficult, but she had no doubt she would do so. And for the time being she was too excited about the royal ball.

  Both Peter and Alexei were available for this one, resplendent in their white uniforms, as was Pobrebski.

  Anna wore pale blue, her favourite colour; Sophie wore green, and Patricia pink
. All their decolletages were deep, the white flesh adorned with pearls; Anna wore pearl bracelets over her gloves, Sophie wore gold, and Patricia wore gold and silver intertwined. And then, the Winter Palace. Anna well remembered climbing this broad, shallow staircase more than thirty years before. Nothing in the approach had changed, but now...she faced a surprisingly short man, as Alexei had indicated, but the Tsar was handsome, even when hidden behind the neatly trimmed beard. “Madame Cromb,” he said, as she curtsied. “Or do you prefer to be known as the Countess Bolugayevska?”

  “When I am in Russia, Sire, I desire only to be Russian.”

  “Well said, madame. Then I welcome you, back to Russia. I should like to speak with you, privately.”

  “I should enjoy that very much, Sire,” she said, and curtsied to the Tsaritsa.

  Alexandra was twenty-two years old, slightly taller than her husband. She had undoubted claims to beauty, but her upswept hair left her somewhat cold features exposed, and her expression was an odd mixture of severity and uncertainty. But her smile was gracious. “I have heard so much about you, Countess.”

  “Your Majesty will make me blush,” Anna said.

  “I look forward to hearing some more, from yourself,” Alexandra said.

  “That will be my pleasure, Your Majesty,” Anna said again.

  Peter and Alexei had been introducing Sophie and Patricia, and Pobrebski, and now the party moved on to one of the alcoves to seat themselves and await the commencement of the dancing, which could not happen until all the introductions had been completed and the Tsar and Tsaritsa had themselves taken the floor. “Oh,” Patricia said. “I am a bath of sweat.”

  “Really, Trisha,” Sophie protested.

  “I am sure we are all affected,” Anna said. “But they are a most gracious couple. Would you not agree, gentlemen?”

  “Oh, yes,” Alexei said fervently. “I think we are seeing a new era for Russia.”

  Peter and Pobrebski did not look quite so convinced. But soon the music began and Anna was being whirled about the floor, firstly by Peter, then by Alexei, and then by Pobrebski, who, she observed to her satisfaction, had begun by dancing with Patricia. Then she was in the arms of someone she had never met before, but he was a prince, and apparently of some importance in the royal household. “To dance with the Countess Bolugayevska is the greatest honour a man can have,” he remarked.