“Stay close, then, and I’ll give you a pointer or two,” said Katrina, releasing his arm. With two quick running steps, she glided twenty yards across the flat expanse of ice. In an instant Dmitri was after her. Glancing back, and seeing that he followed, Katrina dug in her blades and quickened her pace. Her intuition sensed the nature of the game she played, and at fifteen she had already mastered it. She kept her ecstacy well hidden, letting it flow out only through her feet and the occasional flash of her eyes. Dmitri hardly knew what spells of enchantment were being woven about him.
The young Princess Fedorcenko displayed great talent on the ice. She moved with effortless grace, and if Count Remizov was not as expert as she, the young lady made him appear so. She allowed him to catch her and gave him her arm. They flowed together as one, and were clearly one of the best couples on the Neva that day.
Anna looked on in amazement. Never before had she seen such a spectacle. It would have taken both the villages of Katyk and Akulin at home to make such a crowd as this—even if everyone could have been spared from their labors to indulge themselves in such an afternoon of gaiety and fun. The peasants of Katyk knew how to enjoy the snow, of course. Such sports were part of Russian childhood everywhere, in every home, rich or poor. But never had she seen anything on such a grand scale! The bright-colored sleighs with men and maids in waiting, the music, the laughter, the gaily attired skaters dotting the ice—her senses could scarcely take it all in.
The children back at home would never dream of such fine leather skates with thin silver blades. Indeed, Anna had never seen such a fine pair as those she had held for Katrina. When the stream froze over, she and her brothers and sisters had skated after a fashion, crudely tying well-shaped sticks to the soles of their boots. Their fumbling efforts to keep from falling could hardly be thought of as “skating” at all, compared with the graceful figures Anna now saw being executed before her eyes.
In the midst of her reverie, Anna suddenly heard a voice close beside her. “Your feet will freeze if you stand there in one place all afternoon.”
Anna started, and jerked about. There stood Katrina’s older brother.
“I . . . I . . . was watching, Your Excellency,” said Anna, taken by surprise.
“That much I can see,” laughed Sergei.
“It’s all so—so full of activity . . . and beautiful . . . and the young princess skates so fast.”
“Yes, she always was good on the ice. Much better than I, I’m afraid. I take it you’ve never seen skating before?”
“Not like this,” answered Anna. “At home we—”
Suddenly she stopped herself, realizing the impropriety of talking to the young prince so freely. Though Nina had spent the entire previous evening trying to prepare Anna for her first outing with her mistress, this was not a situation that had been covered.
“Excuse me, Your Highness,” she said, turning to walk the few yards back to the sleigh she had come in with the footmen.
“You don’t need to leave on my account,” said Sergei, half laughing again, though pleasantly. “I’ve never been known to be cruel to a single one of my father’s servants!”
“I should sit down, Your Highness,” said Anna, still moving away.
“Ah, yes . . . the feet. That’s probably wise.” He stopped, peering out across the river at the skaters for a moment, while Anna began to climb back into the sleigh. Then suddenly Sergei turned back around and called out to her.
“Come and sit in my sleigh!” he said, walking briskly toward her. “It will do your feet just as much good, and you’ll be able to watch much better.” In two or three strides he was beside the servants’ carriage.
“I really shouldn’t, Your Highness,” hesitated Anna.
“Come, come,” insisted Sergei half-sternly. “I promise you’ll have a better view, and then I’ll have someone to talk to.”
“I . . . I don’t know.”
“I insist,” he said, taking her arm and gently pulling her down. “I doubt you will be breaking a single rule of the house, and I promise not to tell that old fussbudget Chomsky a thing about it! Come!” By now his voice was definitely stern.
Any color the chill air had brought to Anna’s face drained away. She could hardly disobey. Yet if Nina learned that she had been sitting next to Katrina’s brother, she would probably send her back to Olga for a beating!
Slowly she retreated from the board of the sleigh backward onto the ground, then followed Sergei timidly across the snow. He led the way, then jumped onto the sideboard and into the sleigh, turning back to offer Anna his hand to climb up. For the first time he became aware of the paleness that had come over her face and saw the fear in her eyes.
“What is it?” he asked, pulling her up. “You look terrified!”
When she didn’t reply, he remembered his last word of command.
“You didn’t think I was angry?” he said, incredulous.
Still she said nothing, but continued to stare downward.
“I am sorry,” he said sincerely. “I only meant to encourage you past your reticence. I thought if I was firm, and made you come, you would see there was nothing to fear. I do apologize. If you would be more comfortable alone, I will say nothing more. You are perfectly free to go back to the other sleigh if you like.”
“It’s not that . . . it’s only—” Anna stopped. This was too awful; she mustn’t cry—not now!
“You must be new at this,” said Sergei.
Anna nodded.
“Never been a lady’s maid before?”
Anna shook her head. “I’ve never been anything before. Until two weeks ago I worked in the kitchen.”
“Ah . . . the Iron Mistress!” said Sergei with a knowing smile. “So this is quite a change for you.”
Anna nodded mutely.
“And before that?”
“Two months ago I lived with my parents. We are country peasants. My father tries to farm a small plot of land, though it is always difficult for him.”
“I see,” said Sergei, thoughtfully creasing his brow. “Everything gradually becomes more and more clear. So you only came to the city a month or two ago, and after working in Olga’s kitchen, they suddenly made you my little sister’s maid. But you still know very little about this new way of life, is that it?”
“Yes, Your Excellency.”
“And you are perhaps afraid of me . . . afraid of being too familiar with me, yet also afraid to disobey me? Is that it? And afraid that Nina might hear of you talking with me, and punish you?”
Anna said nothing, although Sergei was skilled enough in reading faces to know her silence meant an affirmative reply.
“Believe me, Nina will come nowhere near us today! And even if by some chance she did see you, I would have her flogged if she raised one finger against you!”
Again the color, which had begun to climb back into Anna’s cheeks by degrees, suddenly drained away, replaced by an even more shocked look of terror.
Seeing her eyes open wide with dismay, Sergei laughed. “I’ve done it again! No, no, you mustn’t take my every word so seriously! I meant nothing by it—I would never have Nina flogged! And neither would I allow any harm to come to you for talking with me!”
He paused, looking at her intently. “One thing you must learn,” he said at length. “I am one person in this family who does not take all these distinctions of class so seriously as we of the nobility are taught we should. If the army has taught me anything, it is that people are people. A man is a man, a woman is a woman—whatever their background and upbringing may have been. I have known aristocrats who are cruel and peasants who are kind and gracious. I know princes who are cads, princesses who are low, mean-intentioned gossips, and former serfs who are positive gentlemen. I am no revolutionary. I believe in order and in the preservation of our Russian system. But we could do well to pay a little more attention to what is inside our fellow human beings, and a little less to their station in life. So, there! That is w
hy you find yourself so confused. You are not sitting next to the sort of nobleman who goes by the same rules as Nina or Olga, or my fair sister for that matter!”
Anna drew in a breath, and dared at last to look up into the face of this most unusual young man who had addressed her as simply and openly as he might one of his friends. The young Prince Sergei Viktorovich presented a striking mix of family characteristics, although he favored his mother. His fine features and delicate pallor were similar to Natalia’s. His hair was a shade or two darker, but it came nowhere close to the bold, dark color of Katrina’s or their father’s.
At the same time, however, Sergei lacked his mother’s peculiar sense of frail insubstantiality. For despite his finely cut visage, throughout every fiber a definite foundation of strength existed within him. His liberal social tendencies had begun to drive a wedge between the two generations; yet, he was his father’s son. And when he stepped into his inheritance, whatever might be the political implications, the Fedorcenko name would lose none of its well-earned authority. But now, as a youth of twenty, he was still somewhat at odds with the power and influence his family represented, and it showed in his sensitive, self-effacing gray eyes, and in the kind and genuine manner he assumed with his father’s servants.
27
Katrina had begun the afternoon with soaring hopes—expectations too high even for the pampered daughter of a high-ranking nobleman. When she skated off across the ice, with Dmitri laughing and doing his best to catch her, there had been not a single doubt in her mind that before the day was over he would be thoroughly intoxicated with her charms.
And she would have succeeded too, if his snobbish friends hadn’t come along!
Katrina had slowed down to let Dmitri catch up with her, and they had skated side by side for several long ovals around the ice. Her face was flushed and her lungs heaving as her warm breath punctuated their gliding motions through the crisp air. Gently, yet with determination of purpose, Katrina slipped her right arm through Dmitri’s left, and grasped his muscular arm.
“Now, Dmitri, I’ll guide us through a figure or two.”
She nudged him toward the outer edge of the circle, and proceeded to lead them through several routines. Dmitri obeyed her every movement, and made no resistance. At last, Katrina led them back into the flow of skaters, tightening the pressure on his arm, as if requiring him for support. It seemed to Katrina that no heaven of her imagination could surpass the delight of this moment. She had dreamed of being at the side of Dmitri Remizov for months and months! And now here they were, skating arm in arm, for all of St. Petersburg society to see. Apparently enjoying her company with equal enthusiasm, he chatted and laughed freely as they sped along. She could go on like this forever!
In the midst of her castle-building fantasies, all at once Katrina became aware of a small group of skaters approaching from behind.
“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, Dmitri!” cried one of the girls in French, skating boldly up to Dmitri’s side and taking his free right arm. She spoke in an affected, high-pitched whine. She was seventeen or eighteen, and though she and Katrina knew one another well enough, neither one acknowledged the other. Katrina had always disliked her, and that dislike now elevated in an instant to hatred.
“It’s just awful since you’ve been in the army,” put in another, skating to Katrina’s left. Though French was commonly spoken among the aristocracy, especially in St. Petersburg, Katrina, having little interest in her studies, had not mastered the language. Thus it was with some difficulty she tried to follow the conversation. She threw two or three of the girls angry glances. But, if they noticed at all, this only increased their delight in stealing away Dmitri’s attention.
“Ah, yes,” said Dmitri, favoring the newcomers with one of his winning smiles, “the life of the soldier is regrettably full of hardships, not the least of which is having to leave the society of such beautiful ladies!” Laughter and giggling ensued among them all, with the sole exception of Katrina.
“Why haven’t you been to see me since returning to the city?” said the first girl in an offended tone.
“What can I say?” answered Dmitri lightly. “So many demands on my time! I have seen your brother though, Alice,” he went on jovially. “I won twenty rubles from him last night over faro.”
“There is more to life than cards,” said the girl. “But we must make up for lost time. Do skate with me, Dmitri.”
“I already have a partner,” he replied glancing toward Katrina. But there was little conviction in his tone.
“Oh, she doesn’t want to be with us old fossils, do you, Katrina, dear?” Katrina, however, had too much pluck to be intimidated by this pushy little strumpet.
“Au contraire,” she said in her best French. “You wrinkled vieux routiers need a youthful hand to guide your hobbling feet. I would never forgive myself if I allowed something to happen to Count Remizov.”
Dmitri burst into a roar of laughter, nearly losing his balance in spite of the two adversaries who occupied each of his arms. Alice, however, only flashed a cardboard smile.
“What an amusing little thing you are, Katrina,” said Alice. As she spoke she released Dmitri’s arm and fell behind. Breathing an inward sigh of relief to at last be free of the interfering coquette, suddenly Katrina heard Alice skating up toward her on the other side. “I don’t believe you’ve ever met my cousin, Katrina,” she said, as if merely continuing a previous conversation. From out of nowhere, she now produced the cousin, whose hand Alice firmly attached to Katrina’s free arm. “He wants to skate with you, Katrina. And, can you believe it—he’s just your age. He turned fourteen last month!”
With one or two deft spins, Alice came up on Dmitri’s right, and before Katrina could muster her wits to reply, Alice’s talons were firmly gripped around Dmitri’s arm and they were gliding off, leaving the sallow-faced boy at her side. Without a word he placed one of his stringy arms around her waist and nudged her numb figure forward.
Neither spoke a word. Around they slowly floated, close to the bank, where Katrina saw her brother sitting in his sleigh with—what! Was that Anna with him? She had at least hoped Sergei would rescue her from this terrible fate with Alice’s cousin. And there he sat, without even his skates on! She would kill him! She would kill them both! He and Dmitri could both go back and rot forever in the army for all she cared!
Sitting beside Katrina’s brother, Anna sensed no hint of superiority; he looked at her as if she were almost his equal. She had never known a promieshik, even the most humane and kind, who did not maintain a strict attitude of superiority when dealing with her father and other men of their village. But this young nobleman behaved no differently toward her than if he were her own brother!
“I just realized I don’t yet even know your name,” said Sergei.
“It’s Anna, my lord Prince. Anna Yevnovna Burenin.”
“Well, I am Sergei. Sergei Viktorovich. Now, until my father is dead, which I do not anticipate being for a very long time, I will always think of him as the prince, not myself. I suppose I am a prince, after all, but somehow it never sounds right to my ears when I am called one. And as for the rest, well, to tell you the truth, I’d be much more comfortable if you called me just Sergei.”
Anna did not reply.
“Do you skate, Anna Yevnovna? I think you were about to tell me what you did at home a few moments ago.”
“No, sir,” answered Anna. “At least not like you skate here. We used to fasten sticks to our boots, but it did not always turn out so well.”
“Sticks? It must have been rather awkward.”
“Yes. Sometimes my papa carved pieces of wood for us with his knife, and they worked better. But even sticks could be no more difficult than standing on those thin blades of metal.”
“Have you ever tried it with skates, Anna?”
She shook her head.
“It’s really much easier than it looks. Let me show you. My sister has an extr
a pair of skates that should fit you well enough.” He rose to leave the sleigh.
“Oh no, sir, I couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right.”
“Come, come, Anna. I thought we had all that settled about separation between the classes. Or at least between you and me!”
Still she sat, pondering what to do. Olga and Nina would be scandalized at the way this day was turning out!
Sergei’s thin, sensitive lips twitched into a genuine, reassuring smile. “Come, Anna,” he said, kindly this time rather than sternly, “the fate of the Motherland does not hinge upon your decision.”
“But . . . but what will Princess Katrina say? I am supposed to attend to her if she needs anything.”
“I will tell my slave-driving sister I needed a partner and that I insisted that you join me.” Without awaiting any further word, he turned toward a great iron cauldron where a glowing fire burned and a group of servants huddled about for warmth.
“Peter . . . Ivan!” he called to the two Fedorcenko footmen. “Would one of you fetch my skates from your sleigh . . . and bring along Princess Katrina’s extra pair also.”
In a moment Ivan returned carrying the skates, with the younger Peter close behind. Ivan knelt down to assist Sergei in putting them on.
“Peter, would you help Anna on with the other pair?” said the prince.
Peter hesitated, glancing up at the older footman. Whatever liberal ideas the prince might espouse, class delineation between servants remained very deep. Why should one of the prince’s own footmen stoop at the feet of a peasant girl who had until recently been nothing but a lowly scullery maid!
None of this was lost on Anna during the second or two of Peter’s vacillation. She quickly took the skates from his hand and, smiling apologetically, said, “Thank you, Peter, I can manage.”
A few moments later, when the skates were firmly in place, Sergei took Anna’s hand, helped her to her feet, and led her to the edge of the ice. He stepped onto the river, then, as her blades met the ice, gently tugged at her hand to pull her into motion.
The Russians Collection Page 17