Once I had changed, I took the baron’s piece of paper from its hiding place in my Greek book and put it in a small bag. I’d managed not to think about it during the day while I was at the hospital, but once I’d gotten home, I couldn’t wait to get rid of it. I didn’t know if I’d be able to burn it at the Tamms’ after I showed it to them because there would probably be too many people around, but I’d find a way to make sure it didn’t come back into the house.
I also collected some packages I was taking to the Tamms and then went back outside. As I started down the street, two figures burst out of the narrow passageway that ran along the side of the house, nearly knocking me down. One of them dropped a package.
I scrambled away from them, my heart pounding, ready to yell for help, afraid they were men intending to rob me.
“Lottie, what are you doing out here?” a voice said. It was Hap.
“What are you doing out here?” I asked, trying to calm down. “It’s very late.”
Miles picked up the package he had dropped and put it inside his coat. “It’s not that late. We’re going to the Tamms’ party, but we had to wait until Stepan was asleep because he’d want to go with us.”
“They have what is basically a party every night,” I said.
“It’s Peet’s birthday tonight,” Miles said. “It’s a real party. We have to go.”
Hap waved a small bundle at me and then pointed at the package I was holding. “We have a present for him. Did you get him one too?”
“It’s a bag of sugar for Celeste. And no, I didn’t know it was Peet’s birthday.”
“Now you know. So let’s go.” Hap took a few steps down the street.
I knew there was no way I could convince them to go back inside. As I was about to follow, Dmitri came out the front door wearing a coat and hat. He paused on the step, looking shocked to see us.
“Dmitri Antonovich!” Hap called. “We’re going to a party. Do you want to come along? You should meet our friends the Tamms. You’d like them.”
I wanted to shake Hap. We couldn’t take a stranger to their apartment. Even though I knew the Tamms were not radicals, I didn’t know about the people who came and went to all their parties. Dmitri might misunderstand a stray remark.
It was obvious Dmitri was planning on going somewhere. With his leg injured, it wasn’t likely he’d just decided to take a stroll in the cold and the dark.
“I was just about to…” Dmitri paused and then said, “Yes, I would like to go, but I don’t have an invitation.”
“The Tamms won’t mind. Half the people at the party won’t have an invitation either,” Miles said.
“If you are sure.” Dmitri looked at me.
I had to try something to get him not to go. “It’s not going to be much of a party. Just ordinary people gathered together in a small apartment.”
“What are you saying, Lottie? They are terrific people!” Hap exclaimed. “You have to come with us. We were going to walk”—his gaze turned to Dmitri’s cane—“but since we’ve run into Lottie, she’ll have money to hire droshkies.”
It appeared Dmitri was coming to the party. I prayed it would be the one night that no one but us showed up.
Chapter Seven
I TOOK SOME money out of my bag and handed it to Hap. “Go down to the end of the block and hire some sleighs to come pick us up. See if you can find one big enough for all of us.” There was no sense in making Dmitri walk even that far, since the izvoschiks would be eager for a fare.
When two small droshkies pulled up in front of the house, Hap leaped into the front one. “I couldn’t find a bigger one. Come on, Miles. Lottie can ride with Dmitri Antonovich.”
Each droshky for hire had room for two passengers, but it was always a tight fit. I got in first and then Dmitri struggled in, apologizing for bumping me with his cane. Our izvoschik urged his horse forward as if we needed to catch up with Miles and Hap’s sleigh, which was already halfway down the block. Both Dmitri and I were nearly thrown out.
When we got our balance back, Dmitri put his arm around me. It was considered polite in Petrograd for a man to make sure a woman passenger didn’t fall out of the poorly designed sleighs, no matter how slightly acquainted they were. I pretended I didn’t even notice. You weren’t supposed to react. Usually I didn’t notice, but I was intensely aware of Dmitri next to me. I held myself very still, remembering other rides where I’d wanted Pavel’s arm around me. I pushed that thought away as quickly as it had come. It wasn’t as if Pavel and I had even had time to become that close, just a few dances and walks before he’d gone to the front. I needed to stop dwelling on those memories.
The two drivers kept shouting for people and automobiles to get out of the way, as drivers always did, though it was late enough that there were not many people on the streets. The shouting kept me from feeling like I had to make conversation with Dmitri. I wished I could ask him where he’d been planning to go. If we hadn’t run into him, we’d probably never have known he’d left the house. There was no reason he’d have had to tell anyone. Even when tutors lived in, it wasn’t as if they had to account for every moment of the day. It was the perfect setup for Dmitri to go out at night and report our doings to someone. I spent the rest of the ride scheming ways to find out more. I wasn’t going to rest easy until I knew more about him.
The Tamms and their extended family had an apartment in the building next door to the theater. We got out of the droshkies and heard shouts from inside the theater. The performance should have ended some time before.
“Sounds like something is wrong,” Miles said. He pulled open the door.
“I smell smoke,” Hap said as he dashed inside.
Miles tried to follow but I grabbed his arm. “Don’t go any farther,” I ordered him. “You don’t want to breathe in smoke.” He didn’t listen, pulling away from me. I hurried after him into the tiny lobby and then into the theater itself, leaving Dmitri to follow us.
Smoke billowed from something on one corner of the stage. Two stagehands tossed buckets of water on the source of the flames. I couldn’t tell what it was.
Kalev Tamm stood next to them, trying to wave some of the smoke away. “That should do it. No major damage.” He sounded calm, but then, he always did—a good trait for a theater manager, according to my mother.
One of the actors began to shout at another stagehand, who cowered in front of him. “My cape could have caught on fire!” the actor thundered. “How was I to know you’d spilled the lightning powder before I threw down my cigarette?”
“I’m sorry,” the boy said, wringing his cap between his hands.
“It’s all right,” Kalev said. “You can get back to cleaning up. These things happen.” The stagehand ran offstage like he wanted to be gone as quickly as possible. Kalev’s calming voice didn’t have as much of an effect on the actor. The man stomped away
“Kalev, what happened?” I called out.
“Lottie! I thought I’d see you at the party, not here.”
“We heard shouting and smelled smoke,” Hap said.
“The stagehand spilled some of the powder for the new lightning machine. He didn’t know it was so flammable. One tiny burning ash and poof!” Kalev threw his hands up. “Unfortunately, he spilled it right by the broom, and the broom caught fire rather fast.”
“Lightning machine?” Hap said as he went up onstage. I could imagine the gleam in his eyes. He loved all the special-effects machines in the theater. He would quit his studies in an instant to be a stagehand if Papa would allow it, which of course he never would.
Dmitri followed him onstage, though it took him some effort to get up there. I made the introductions.
“Any friend of the Masons is welcome here!” Kalev said to him. His eyes flicked between me and Dmitri. I realized I’d forgotten to add that Dmitri was a tutor. I could tell that Kalev was wondering if Dmitri was someone important to me. He’d known about Pavel, and I was sure he’d heard from Celeste how I�
�d cried when I learned of Pavel’s death.
Before I could explain about Dmitri, Hap took over the conversation. “Now that you’ve said hello, where is the lightning machine?” he asked.
“It’s over here, but it’s not working right.” Kalev gestured to a tall metal box, open on one side, that had some screen contraption inside it with a spirit lamp at the base. He began explaining in great detail how it was supposed to work. Kalev loved special-effects machines as much as Hap.
I was surprised when Dmitri spoke up. “The spirit lamp is probably too far away from the screen. The powder needs more heat to ignite. It can be fixed if you raise the lamp up on some bricks or something. Or possibly the box is too deep and is muffling the effect. There are several things you can try.”
“You sound like you know what you are talking about,” Kalev said. I could hear the surprise in his voice. I knew he didn’t think much of the elite regiments, because he’d said their whole purpose before the war had been to parade around during ceremonies in fancy uniforms.
“I planned to study engineering and architecture before the war,” Dmitri said. “I don’t know that much, but I’ve always liked this sort of problem. It keeps me thinking, so when I go back to school I won’t be stale.”
I didn’t understand. Dmitri would never be able to study those subjects as long as he was in the Horse Guard, even once the war ended. Men didn’t just quit. It was a lifetime job. He had to know that. As I was trying to work out why he’d said that, I caught myself. It wasn’t my problem what he did with his life. As Miles too often reminded me, I should stick to my own problems instead of trying to take charge of other people’s.
“I want to see how it works,” Hap said.
“You’ve given me some ideas,” Kalev said to Dmitri. “Since Hap wants a demonstration, let’s try a few things. Lottie, Miles, tell Celeste we’ll be along shortly.”
I knew that “shortly” could mean an hour or more. At least it would give me time to talk to Celeste. I had to get rid of that piece of paper, and once I’d heard from Celeste that the baron’s accusations against them were all nonsense, we could figure out how to keep interest away from them, and from me.
The dvornik, Hugo, let us into the apartment building, greeting us like we were long-lost relatives. He was an elderly man who looked so much like Papa they could have been brothers, though their lives hadn’t been anything alike. Hugo had been an actor until the infirmities of old age caught up with him and Kalev got him the job. Since dvorniks oversaw who came and went in the apartment building, Hugo got to live in a small room of his own right off the front door.
I pulled out the bag of tobacco I’d purchased earlier in the day and handed it to him. “They only had Mahorka left. I’m sorry. I know it’s not the best brand.”
He took it and held it up to his nose. “Ah … any tobacco is greatly appreciated. You are a good child, Charlotte Danielovna,” he said.
“It’s nothing,” I said. “I hope you enjoy it.”
The voices and music from the apartment above were so loud, they spilled down the stairs. My spirits lifted a little, even with the knowledge that I had the paper in my bag. I loved visiting the Tamms. They made their home feel like it was ours, too. We went up and Miles opened the door, not bothering to knock. The Tamms’ parties were too loud for anyone to hear the knocking. A wave of noise and smoke and heat hit us along with the smell of sausages grilling on the stove.
The room was lit with only one electric bulb dangling from the ceiling, encased in a painted glass shade. It was so crowded people could barely move. We edged our way through. Miles found Peet, who was playing the piano, surrounded by a group of friends. I made my excuses to people as I passed them to get to the kitchen, which was almost as crowded. Celeste stood at the stove, turning the sausages, but when she saw me, she put down the tongs she held and took my hands, kissing me on both cheeks. I immediately felt warm inside and out.
“I’m so glad you came!” she cried. “We haven’t seen enough of you.”
“I’ve been so busy at the hospital.” I told her about the problem at the theater and then handed her the bag of sugar.
“Sugar! A whole bag! It’s a treasure. But you don’t have to bring something every time you come to see us. We wouldn’t even have a theater without your mother’s help.”
“I know my brothers eat everything in sight wherever they go. This is just to help feed them.” The price of sugar had gone way up over the last few months, and I knew Celeste never turned anyone away who needed a meal.
“Are Hap and Miles here? Peet was afraid they wouldn’t be able to come. He saved them some of his birthday pie.”
“They’re here, though Hap is still over at the theater with Kalev. They didn’t tell me they were planning on coming. I caught them sneaking out of the house.”
She laughed. “But at least they were sneaking here! Much better than many places they could go. How is Miles?”
“The same. Dr. Rushailo is trying some new treatment she’s read that has helped other tuberculosis patients, so we just have to hope he won’t catch a bad cold this winter.” Since my stepfather never asked the name of Miles’s doctor, I never mentioned I’d arranged for Miles to see a woman.
“I say a prayer for him every day.” I felt a little pang at how worn down Celeste looked. Her graying hair was coming loose, frizzing from the heat of the kitchen. The years of hard work had taken a toll on her. Even though she looked happy, I found it hard to believe she and my mother would have been the same age had my mother lived. My mother had told me Celeste had been considered the most beautiful young actress in Paris the year they met. Wealthy men pursued her, promising jewels and apartments. She turned them all down, walking away without a look back to marry Kalev, a young Estonian who was just a stagehand determined to have his own theater one day.
The sausages on the stove began to smoke. Celeste pulled them off the burner.
“I need to talk to you,” I said.
“Can it wait a few minutes? So many people here tonight!”
I didn’t want to wait, but I couldn’t just drag her out in the hall to talk. “What can I do to help?”
She put the sausages on a platter. “You can carry these out. I need to bring some more water for the samovar.”
I edged my way back through the crowd, hoping I wouldn’t spill the sausages. They made it safely to the zakuski table that held the rest of the food, though they were gone almost immediately as the people who had followed my progress snagged them.
“Who is that?” I heard Celeste’s voice behind me.
I looked over to see Kalev, Hap, and Dmitri at the door. Kalev was introducing Dmitri to two young actresses from the theater troupe. Even at a distance I could tell that one of the women was practically cooing over him. She touched the epaulet on his tunic like she’d never seen one before.
I explained to Celeste about the tutoring.
“Very interesting and very handsome! Horse Guard? We don’t usually have one of those at our parties. They are a little too high and mighty for us. He looks like an intriguing young man. Rather brooding and mysterious.”
I didn’t have time to think about Dmitri. “I really need to talk to you,” I said. “Can we go out into the hall where it’s quiet?”
“Charlotte, over here!” Peet called.
A man took hold of Celeste’s waist. “You should stop cooking,” he said. “Dance with me.”
Celeste laughed and removed the man’s hands. “Where? On the ceiling? There’s no room anywhere else.”
“Charlotte!” Peet called again. I saw that Hap had taken his harmonica out and Miles was tightening a string on a borrowed balalaika.
“Let me cook the rest of the sausages,” Celeste said to me. “You might as well humor Peet while I’m busy. He won’t stop badgering you until you do. Then we can talk.” She smiled and then twisted around so she could move between two different groups of people.
I went over to the
piano. “Happy birthday, Peet,” I said when I got close enough that I didn’t have to shout.
Peet got up from the bench. “Thank you! You can take over at the piano. Hap says the three of you have some new songs he arranged. I’d like to hear the Mason family serenade me for my birthday. Don’t say no.” He smiled, looking so much like a miniature Kalev I could understand how his father had charmed his mother so many years ago.
“I’ll play, but I don’t think anyone will hear us over the noise!” I sat down. “What are we starting with?” I asked Hap.
“‘Kalinka,’ then ‘As My Mother Wanted Me to Marry,’ and then ‘Oh, Dear Snow.’” Hap loved Russian folk songs and was determined to transcribe as many as he could.
We launched into the first song, and several partygoers began to sing. I sang too. I couldn’t often push away the worries and the to-do lists that always filled my head, but when we played, they took up less space.
I don’t know what made me glance up in the middle of the second song, but I did, and I saw Dmitri staring at us with an intensity that made me miss a couple of notes. He wasn’t singing with the others.
Miles kicked me. “Concentrate,” he muttered.
I glared at him but went back to paying attention to the music, or at least trying to. I didn’t dare look in Dmitri’s direction. When we finished the third song, I saw that Celeste had come back into the room, so I pushed the bench back.
“We’ve got some other songs,” Miles said.
“I need to talk to Celeste. Go ahead and play them without me.”
I ignored Miles’s protests. Celeste saw me and waved toward the hall. It was a relief to leave the apartment and breathe in some fresh air. Too many people were smoking inside the apartment and I didn’t like the smell.
“What do you want to talk about? You sounded so serious earlier.” Celeste asked.
I took the paper out of my bag and handed it to her. As she was reading it, I plunged right into an explanation. “Someone gave me this and warned me to be careful associating with you because I’d draw the attention of the Okhrana. That sounds like you’ve come to their notice.” My voice faltered. I saw Samuel’s bloody face in my mind. “I’m scared for you. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened. Do you know who wrote this?”
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