The Masters

by Christopher Nicole

  “Oh, indeed, your honour,” the groom said. “I am to take you directly to her.”

  Duncan looked left and right as he got into the trap. Port Arthur was again a teeming seaport. There were ships alongside and ships anchored in the roads. But unlike four years previously there were more steamers and a good number of them flew the imperial Russian eagle, and he was certain that a large proportion of the Caucasians he saw on the street — far more than four years ago — were also Russian.

  How familiar was the drive out of the town, through the pine forest. How familiar indeed was the house, above which the Russian flag flew proudly. And yet...he frowned. It was only familiar in its front facade, for there had been considerable clearing of the trees behind, and some excavation from the hillside itself, to allow two wings to be built on. This was a house more fitting for the residence of a Russian prince, save that, as with his father, it seemed odd that Prince Peter should have been banished to this remote outpost.

  Duncan had no doubt Mom would explain. And there she was, standing on the lower verandah, waving her scarf and hurrying down the steps as the trap turned up the drive. He leapt down before the vehicle had stopped moving. “Mom!”

  She was in his arms. “My God, but you have grown!”

  “Outwards, not upwards. But you...” He held her away the better to look at her. Mom might be sixty, now, but she did not seem a day older than when last he had seen her.

  “Do you remember anything of the place?” she asked. “I remember everything about the place. But you have done some building.

  “It was necessary.” She held his hand to lead him up the steps, while servants scurried to unload his bags.

  “I don’t recognise any of these people,” he said.

  “Well, you wouldn’t. The old ones were all killed, don’t you remember?”

  “Not that fellow Rurik.”

  “Oh, Rurik. He got ambitious, and left our service.”

  “Is that a fact? I thought Bolugayevski servants were there for life.”

  Anna led him into the drawing room. “We’re almost in the Twentieth Century, now, Duncan. Times are changing, and people. Now...what about Boston?”

  She waved her hand and her butler hurried forward with champagne. “To your return,” Anna smiled, drinking, and hurling her glass at the fireplace.

  Duncan followed her example. “Some things don’t change.”

  “And will never change, I pray. Boston.”

  He had letters from both Alexandra and Charles, and photographs of the children, for Charles had now married as well, and his wife had had twins, who were two years old. “They’d all like to know when you’re coming home,” he said when she’d read the letters and looked at the photos. “Four years is a long vacation.”

  “Vacation,” Anna said, with a wry smile. “I do not know when I am going back to Boston, darling.”

  “Because you no longer regard it as your home. But then, this isn’t your home, either. Why did you leave Bolugayen?”

  Anna raised her eyebrows. “Because I chose to do so, Duncan.”

  He flushed. “I didn’t mean to be inquisitorial, Mom. It’s just that, well...we’d all love you to come back. You’ve never met Charlie’s wife, or seen his children...”

  “I am a neglectful mother and grandmother,” Anna said. “I will come back. I promise. For a visit.”

  “Will you, Mom? But...a visit?”

  “A visit,” she said firmly. “Now...” She looked up as the doors opened and Duncan stood up as a woman stalked into the room. She was tall and heavily built, good-looking, and her fingers were covered in expensive rings. But her thick yellow hair was loose and untidy, as were her clothes, however clearly expensive. She also swayed slightly as she gazed at him. “Duncan,” Anna said. “This is the Princess Bolugayevska.”

  “And you are Duncan Cromb,” Nathalie said. “I know. There has been great excitement since your telegram arrived.” She advanced into the room and checked, still swaying, “You are drinking!” she accused.

  “Would you care for some champagne?” Anna asked.

  “Yes.” She half turned her head and let out a tremendous bellow. “Boris!” She looked Duncan up and down. “You are a handsome fellow, Duncan Cromb.”

  Duncan looked at his mother; the woman was already drunk. Anna raised her eyebrows. Boris appeared with a tray containing a bottle and three glasses, but when he would have poured, Nathalie took the bottle from his hand and drank from the neck.

  Boris waited patiently until she had drunk her fill and given a hearty belch. Then she hurled the half-full bottle at the fireplace, causing sparks to fly in every direction. “As I have said before,” Anna said quietly, “one day you are going to set the place alight.”

  “Bring another bottle,” Nathalie said, and fell on to the settee. Boris looked at Anna, who nodded. He hurried from the room. “You see?” Nathalie inquired. “She gives the orders in my own house. I am the Princess Bolugayevska, but she gives the orders.”

  Anna ignored the sally. “Now that you have met the Princess,” she said. “I think we will leave her for a while, and continue our discussion in my boudoir.”

  “Are you going to fuck him?” Nathalie asked. Duncan looked at her in consternation. “She fucks my husband,” Nathalie said, waving her hand. “I never get a look in.”

  “Come along, Duncan,” Anna said. “She is impossible when she is drunk. And that is the main part of every day.” She ushered her son through the door and closed it behind her.

  At the door to her apartment they encountered Grishka, who gave a hasty curtsey. “You remember Grishka, Duncan?”

  “Welcome back, Your Excellency,” Grishka said, and hurried off.

  “I thought Grishka was Patricia’s maid,” Duncan said.

  “She preferred to stay with me, when Patricia...left,” Anna said. She opened the door, and Collins gave one of her startled fawn expressions.

  “Master Duncan!” she cried, advancing to throw both arms round the young man’s shoulders for a hearty hug.

  “The bad penny, Collins,” Duncan said.

  “Oh, it is so good to see you, Master Duncan,” Collins said.

  “I am sure we all have a great deal to talk about,” Anna said. “Later.”

  “I have a letter for you, Collins, from your brother,” Duncan said. “I will give it to you as soon as my bags are brought up.”

  “Yes, sir, Master Duncan.” She gave another curtsey, and hurried through the door.

  “Close it,” Anna commanded. Duncan obeyed, and then faced the sitting-room. Anna had seated herself on the settee beneath the window. “Peter isn’t here, right now,” Anna said. “He has gone to Peking, for negotiations with the Chinese government. Hopefully, the final negotiations. They have been dragging on now for three years. However, we have every reason to believe that they are now going to be brought to a successful conclusion. When that happens, we shall be free to leave Port Arthur, and return to Russia.”

  “You mean you have been here on a diplomatic mission,” Duncan said.

  “Yes. At that time, I will be free to return to Boston. For a visit,” she added.

  “I know that will be greatly appreciated by Charlie and Alix,” Duncan said. “Ah...that woman...Peter’s wife. Is she always like that?”

  “Most of the time, I’m afraid. She makes almost as much noise as her daughter.”

  “I mean, what she said...”

  “In vino veritas, as they say.”

  “Oh, Mom!”

  “Now, Duncan,” Anna said severely. “Do not give me any hypocritical lectures. Peter is my nephew, and we have a great deal in common. Patricia was your cousin, and she was virtually a stranger to you. It seems to me that you are about to be a pot calling the kettle black. Or does it shock you that a woman of sixty can still have carnal desires? I assure you that women of sixty often have more carnal desires than those of twenty, because they know more of what it is all about. If I were you I would
find that a reassuring thought, as, God willing, you will one day be sixty yourself.”

  “But Mom...Peter is married. And you are living in the same house as his wife.”

  “It was an arranged marriage,” Anna told him. “And was not a success.”

  “You mean they no longer co-habit?”

  “Well, of course they do, from time to time. It is Nathalie’s duty to give Peter a male heir, a duty she has singularly neglected up to this moment. But no doubt she will succeed eventually.” She laid her hand on his. “I know this is not the sort of arrangement which could possibly obtain in Boston, at least openly...”

  “But this is not Boston,” Duncan said. “Well, now that I am here, can I not also start behaving like a Russian aristocrat?”

  Anna frowned. “Just what do you mean by that?”

  “Can I not go after Patricia, whether she is married or not?”

  “You’re not serious!”

  Duncan didn’t know whether he was serious or not. But his return had awakened so many memories, and desires. “I do assure you, Mom, that if it came to a duel, I can take care of myself. I’ve been practising pistol shooting, and now I’m pretty good.”

  “You’re not still carrying a torch for her?”

  He sighed. “I’m sure not carrying a torch for anyone else.”

  “Duncan...”

  “Tell me that she’s happy.”

  Anna bit her lip. “We will discuss Patricia when Peter gets home. It won’t be long.”

  “Well, then...do you still have Li-su with you?”

  “Ah...no. Li-su has gone to someone else.”

  “Is she happy?”

  “I am sure she is,” Anna told him.

  *

  Duncan spent the next few days lazing about the house, and riding over the peninsula. He gathered that one entire wing had been built on for Nathalie, and she spent most of her time there, drinking, or playing with her baby, who had been named Dagmar after Peter’s mother and his Danish grandmother. Nathalie seldom even appeared for meals, which Duncan and Anna ate tete-a-tete. They did not again discuss the domestic situation, and Anna wanted to hear every last detail about Boston and how he had spent the past four years. But he was interested, when riding about the peninsula, to see that the fortifications had been greatly strengthened over the last time he had been here, and that in many instances the Chinese soldiers were commanded by Europeans. Again clearly Russians. “Well,” Anna told him, when he raised the point. “We mean to have it. That is what Peter is negotiating for, in Peking.”

  “Will that not upset the Japanese?”

  “I think it is calculated to,” Anna said. “That is one of the reasons I am here.” They gazed at each other. “You see,” she explained. “My time is not entirely taken up with carnal matters. Peter will explain it when he gets home.”

  *

  Peter arrived two days later, having come by ship from the mouth of the Pei-ho and took everyone by surprise when he rode into the yard. “Peter!” Anna shouted, running down the stairs.

  Duncan followed more slowly, watching the servants scurrying to and fro to greet their master. There was no immediate sign of the Princess. Peter stepped down from the hired trap, embraced his aunt and gave her a chaste kiss on the forehead, greeted his people, and looked at Duncan. “Welcome!” He shook hands.

  “Peter!” Anna was holding his arm. “What has happened? You’re looking awfully grim.”

  “It’s a habit,” he conceded.

  “Tell me about Peking.”

  “In a moment.” Nathalie had appeared on the verandah, and he went up the steps to greet her.

  “Oh, Peter,” Nathalie was sobbing. “Is it all finished? Can we go home, now?”

  Peter released her to take his daughter from her nurse’s arms and give her a kiss. “Not right away, my dear.” He handed the baby girl back, and looked at his aunt. “There are things we need to discuss,” he said.

  “Of course.” Anna went up the stairs, and after a brief hesitation, Duncan followed.

  “I assume these are private matters?” he asked.

  Peter considered a moment. Then he said, “I think it might be a good idea if you were present. We will go into the study,” he told Duncan, and led him to the back of the house. Anna was already there, and Boris had brought in the inevitable tray of champagne.

  Anna poured herself, the butler having been dismissed. “I drink to your safe return,” she said.

  “Close the door, Duncan,” Peter commanded, and lifted his glass. “And I drink to you both.”

  “Tell me what has happened,” Anna said.

  “The Chinese have signed the lease. Port Arthur is now ours, for the foreseeable future.”

  Anna gazed at him for a few moments, then got up and threw both arms round his neck. “Oh, Peter! I am so proud of you. There were times I thought it would never come off.”

  “There were times I felt the same way. There is a Russian squadron on its way here already, and a garrison will follow. We are under orders to turn Port Arthur into the most impregnable naval base the world has ever seen.”

  “Oh, Peter! But...you said we.”

  “I have been put in charge of the initial works.”

  Anna sat down again. “I thought, once the lease was signed, that we would be going home.”

  “So did I. However, that is not possible.”

  “But surely you have done everything the Tsar wanted.”

  “I believe I have. However...” He glanced at Duncan. “I am afraid I am going to have to put Duncan in the picture.”

  Anna also looked at Duncan.

  “Patricia has absconded from Irkutsk.”

  Anna stared at him in consternation. “No one absconds from Irkutsk.”

  “Where is Irkutsk?” Duncan asked.

  Peter ignored his cousin. “I agree that very few people escape from Irkutsk and live,” he said. “But the fact is, she absconded in the company of several well-known terrorists, all people who were sentenced with her. Amongst them Joseph Fine.”

  “My God!” Anna said. “Patricia...”

  “Will someone please tell me what is going on?” Duncan asked. “You say that Patricia has escaped from some place called Irkutsk? Do you mean she has run away from her husband?”

  Peter looked at Anna. “No,” she said. “I lied to you, Duncan. Patricia never married. She became involved with terrorists, was arrested by the Okhrana...”

  “We read about them in the States. My God, Mom…” His voice rose an octave. “They torture people.”

  “Yes,” Anna said. Peter gazed at them both, face tight.

  “You mean Patricia was tortured?” Duncan muttered.

  “We do not know that,” Peter said. “We do know that Trisha confessed to being part of a terrorist plot, and was condemned to death, along with her associates. We did everything we could. As a result...my family has been ruined. Your cousin Sophie has taken off in some illicit liaison. Your cousin Alexei has been cashiered, and now manages my estate. And your mother and I have been exiled to this remote place.”

  “While Patricia was condemned to death,” Duncan spat at him.

  “But she was not executed,” Anna said quietly. “Her sentence was commuted to ten years exile in Siberia. We had supposed, with the Tsar’s coronation coming up, that she would be amnestied after a year. But she was not. And now...”

  “She has escaped. Bully for her.”

  “And we are doubly disgraced,” Peter said angrily. “Thus I am required to remain in Port Arthur to oversee the setting up of the Russian colony here. I am told this will take another six years, Anna.”

  “Six years?” she shouted. “But that is outrageous.”

  “The Tsar considers that my duties here will be completed in June 1904,” Peter said.

  Anna poured herself another glass of champagne.

  “While Patricia is a fugitive in Siberia, with winter coming on. My heart bleeds for you, cousin. As for you...” D
uncan glared at his mother, and stamped from the room, slamming the door behind him.

  *

  “Do you wish to go after him?” Peter asked.

  “I do not think it would do any good.” Anna poured herself a glass of champagne. “Will she survive?”

  “It is very improbable. Even if she and her companions manage to get out of Siberia, they will remain hunted criminals, and sooner or later they will be found and arrested, and then...I very much fear that the death sentence will be re-instated.”

  “That poor, poor girl,” Anna said. “Sometimes it is impossible not to feel that she was born doomed.”

  “Well, as you say, she is doomed. It is the rest of the family we must consider.”

  “It is us we must consider, you mean. Six years in this ghastly place! Six more years!”

  “You don’t have to accept it, Anna. You can take the next ship back to the States and thumb your nose at the Tsar.”

  “Would that help the family?”

  “Well...no.”

  “Well, then,” Anna said. “We must possess our souls, in patience.”

  “What do you suppose Duncan will do now?”

  Anna shrugged. “Go home, I should think. There is nothing for him here, now.”

  “You are sure you would not like to go with him?”

  “It is my intention to remain with you, as long as you wish me to.”

  “Oh, my dearest Anna. Does it not matter to you that the future may well hold even more crises for us? For me, at the least.” She frowned at him. “Our minister in Peking also told me the name of the designated commander-in-chief of the garrison, here in Port Arthur,” Peter said.

  Anna raised her eyebrows, but she knew who he was going to name before he did so.

  “Ivan Pobrebski.”

  CHAPTER 12 - THE FUGITIVES

  Station officials saluted as the Count hurried his guest out of the platform and into his troika. “I had heard from Aunt Anna that you were visiting with them in Port Arthur,” Alexei said, with the rugs had been drawn over their knees and the horses had moved off.

  “I was there, briefly,” Duncan said.

  “And she sent you on here?”