Rabbi Goldberg rose from his chair. ‘This is my last word on the subject, Nathan. If you allow your sister to marry out of her faith, she will be dead not only to your family and those present, but to our entire community.’
‘Then let me be dead, Rabbi Goldberg.’ Ruth Kharber appeared in the doorway in her white lace bridal gown and veil. Her two Christian bridesmaids, Alexei’s cousin Sonya Tsetovna, and her friend Anna Parry, stood beside her like bodyguards. Ruth’s dark eyes glittered and her mouth was set in a resolute line although the bouquet of white lilies and roses she was holding trembled in her hands.
Nathan moved closer to the rabbi and lowered his voice. ‘We made a bargain, Rabbi, you and I,’ he reminded. ‘I have kept my side, you must keep to yours.’
‘Ruth, please,’ her Aunt Leah reached out to her. ‘You are like a daughter to Uncle Asher and me. Please. I beg you on my knees,’ the old woman lowered herself stiffly to the floor, ‘don’t turn your back on your faith and us. Not after what we’ve been to one another.’
Ruth didn’t trust herself to speak for a few moments. When she did, her voice was clotted with unshed tears. ‘It is you who is turning your back on me, Aunt Leah. I am the same person standing before God I’ve always been.’
‘The Christian God is not our God, Ruth,’ Rabbi Goldberg thundered.
‘That is not what Father Grigor said.’
‘Father Grigor wants what every Christian priest wants. More souls to count in his church and pay him his stipend so he can live without having to do any real work. That is why every Christian priest spends most of their time looking for converts. All they really want is to fatten their purses. Whereas we Jews are born into our faith, we have been chosen by God to keep his word, his worship, and our bloodlines pure.’
‘All religions teach that God is kind, gentle and all-seeing. He understands people, their frailties and the love they bear one another.’ Ruth continued to look at the rabbi.
The rabbi refused to meet her steady gaze. ‘The Godly know what has to be done.’ It was a command to all the Jews assembled in the room. Everyone present except the bride, bridesmaids, Nathan, and his wife Vasya tore the cloth of their jackets and blouses on the right side of their bodies to signify they were mourning the death of a relative or close friend. The cloth ripped easily in every case, suggesting the gashes had been made in advance and concealed.
Rabbi Goldberg wasn’t the only person who’d made preparations. Nathan took three black ribbons and pins from the pocket of his best black suit. He handed one to Ruth, another to his wife, Vasya, and kept the third. ‘As Christians you don’t need these,’ he explained to Anna and Sonya. ‘You’ll excuse us, Rabbi, if we don’t tear our clothes, but these are our best outfits and we’re on our way to a wedding.’ He pinned the black ribbon over the left side of his body above his heart, to signify that he regarded Asher and Leah, as his closest – newly deceased – relatives. Ruth followed suit. Nathan walked past Ruth, Anna, and Sonya and opened the front door. ‘As we are now dead to one another, Rabbi Goldberg, Uncle Asher, Aunt Leah, guests, if you do not wish to attend Ruth’s wedding to Alexei Beletsky in the church on Catherine Ignatova’s estate, please leave.’
‘Remember, Ruth, you brought this upon yourself.’ Rabbi Goldberg looked to his niece. ‘Vasya?’
She moved close to Nathan. ‘I am Nathan’s wife, Uncle.’
‘Your uncle is your rabbi, Vasya,’ her father reminded her. ‘He has spoken.’
‘A wife’s first duty is to her husband before her rabbi.’ She pinned the ribbon over the heart of her best dark grey silk dress and lowered her head modestly.
Rabbi Goldberg, Asher and Leah Kharber, and the remainder of the guests walked out of Nathan’s living room and his house.
Catherine Ignatova’s senior coachmen, Igor and Ivan, were waiting outside in front of the gate with the bridal carriages she’d sent to convoy her grandson’s bride and her party to the church. Glyn Edwards had ordered the company workmen to lay a tarpaulin between the hospital gate and the carriage stop for the bride so she wouldn’t soil her gown and shoes. Both coachmen tipped their hats to the departing Jews as they walked over it. All the men who’d been labouring nearby removed their hats and bowed. If the rabbi or any of his party saw them make the gesture, they made no reciprocal acknowledgement.
Nathan offered Ruth his arm.
Ruth covered her face with her veil, lifted her head and slipped her hand into the crook of Nathan’s elbow. He walked her out to the accompaniment of cheers from the workmen and helped her into the first carriage.
Sonya and Anna offered their arms to Vasya. The three of them linked arms and walked to the second carriage where Ivan assisted them inside.
‘Is that a Cossack hymn?’ Ruth asked Nathan as they moved off to a musical rendering from the men labouring on the new shops.
‘I believe so, Ruth. A serenade to your new life as a Russian Orthodox bride.’
Chapter Four
Russian Orthodox Church, Catherine Ignatova’s estate outside Hughesovka
September 1871
‘Sit down, calm down, take a deep breath,’ Glyn ordered Alexei, who was shifting from one foot to the other like a chained bear. ‘Very shortly Ruth will take her last steps as a Kharber when she walks down that aisle with Nathan, and her first steps as a Beletsky when she walks back to the door with you.’
‘You believe she’ll turn up?’ Alexei asked. ‘Her Aunt Leah insisted on helping her dress. Her Uncle Asher will be in Nathan’s house with Rabbi Goldberg and the entire Goldberg tribe. Nathan’s wife Vasya is a Goldberg so she’ll add her voice to the others when they try to persuade Ruth to change her mind about marrying me. None of them wanted Ruth to convert to the Orthodox Church. They’ve talked non-stop about ceremonies in the synagogue under a canopy, stamping on glass to break it and converting me to the Jewish faith. I should have converted. Why didn’t I convert …’ Alexei’s voice rose precariously. ‘If I’d converted…’
‘You would have had to undergo a small but painful operation that would have severely interfered with your enjoyment of your honeymoon,’ Glyn interrupted in a whisper. ‘You’re forgetting that Ruth chose to become a Christian. She also chose your cousin Sonya and Anna Parry to be her bridesmaids knowing that if anyone can keep the arrangements on track it’s those two. Ruth will be here because she loves you. Now smile at your grandmother, who’s just walked in with Mr Hughes, Mr Dmitri, and Prince Roman Nadolny. I wasn’t expecting to see the prince here. When I spoke to him three days ago he told me he was planning to leave Hughesovka.’
‘He changed his mind when Mr Hughes asked for his opinion on the way the town is developing. Once he decided to delay his departure my grandmother invited him to attend my wedding.’
‘Your grandmother can be very persuasive.’ Glyn spoke from personal experience.
Alexei turned around. The immaculately dressed man who accompanied his grandmother, Catherine, John Hughes, and Mr Dmitri into the Ignatova family pew was certainly striking. At nearly six and a half feet, he was almost the same height as Glyn, but of a marginally slighter build. His hair was white-blond, his eyes green, not the more usual dark jade, but a bright, glittering emerald. But the most noticeable thing about him was his face: Oriental, longer and slimmer than a Mongolian’s, it was indisputably Chinese.
‘I’ve had a few interesting meetings with him,’ Glyn commented. ‘He certainly seems to be on Mr Hughes’s side when it comes to industrialising Russia.’
Without thinking, Alexei repeated the maxim that had become his mantra since he’d started working closely with John Hughes and Glyn. ‘Like the Tsar, the prince sees Russia’s need to modernise if our motherland is to take her place amongst the foremost nations of the world.’
‘I know he’s well-connected and counts not only the Romanovs, but members of the other royal European families amongst his closest friends. I’ve wondered, but haven’t dared ask. Is he Russian or Chinese?’ Glyn whispered.
&nbs
p; ‘His mother was Manchurian. And you’re right about his friends, he’s close to the royal family, especially Grand Duke Konstantin and often represents his interests.’
‘Is that why he’s here?’
‘Without a doubt,’ Alexei whispered before walking down the aisle to greet his grandmother. He embraced her and shook hands with the prince, John Hughes, and his grandmother’s lawyer, Mr Dmitri.
‘I’m honoured by your presence, sir,’ he said to Nadolny. ‘I believe you’ve met my best man, Mr Glyn Edwards.’
Roman shook Glyn’s hand. ‘A pleasure to meet you again, sir, on such an auspicious day.’
‘Please excuse us, Prince,’ Alexei apologised as the choir began to sing.
‘Of course, it would be inappropriate to keep your bride waiting while you converse with me.’
Alexei wondered if the prince had made a joke. The prince rarely smiled and Alexei frequently had difficulty determining whether or not he was being serious. He followed Glyn back to their station in front of the altar in the small estate church that had been a betrothal present from Catherine’s husband to her on her sixteenth birthday. It had aged well in the decades that had passed since Catherine had walked down the aisle as a bride. The pine walls had matured to deep gold, the stained glass windows had faded, the bright blues, yellows, and reds turning to less vibrant, muted shades more becoming to a place of prayer and worship.
All the pews were full and people were standing at the back, but Alexei noted the absence of Jews. Every worker and family from his estranged father, Count Beletsky’s estate was there, as were all the workers and their families from his grandmother’s estate. The Cossacks from the village had filed into the back pews, and Glyn’s mistress, Praskovia was sitting with her mother Yelena and feeble-minded younger brother, Pyotr. A contingent of the Cossack troops who’d been sent by the Tsar to keep the peace in John Hughes’s new industrial town, had marched in headed by their commander Colonel Zonov and stationed themselves along the side walls. The Welsh were strongly represented and led by Alf Mahoney with his Russian bride of a few weeks, Tonia. To John Hughes delight, Alf and Tonia’s had been the first Welsh/Russian marriage in the town.
‘So much for a quiet wedding,’ Alexei murmured to Glyn when he faced the altar again.
‘Given your grandmother’s social position you didn’t really believe you’d get away with a few witnesses and a quick service, did you?’ Glyn asked in amusement.
‘I had hoped. What’s happening at the door?’
‘Your bride’s arrival,’ boomed an authoritative voice.
Alexei looked up to see the high-hatted, imposing figure of Father Grigor in full regalia looming over him. He turned back to the door and caught a glimpse of Anna and Sonya’s cream lace bridesmaids’ dresses but they had their backs turned to him.
‘You’re allowed to watch your bride walk down the aisle, Alexei,’ Father Grigor said with mock gravity. ‘And when she does, I assure you there won’t be a man in this church who doesn’t envy you.’
The choir broke into the traditional Russian Orthodox wedding hymn, the door opened and Ruth and Nathan Kharber stood framed in the doorway. Glyn felt in his pocket and produced the rings needed for the first part of the ceremony – the betrothal. But Alexei was oblivious. He stared mesmerized as Ruth walked slowly towards him.
He knew his grandmother and Sonya had helped Ruth choose her bridal clothes, but he hadn’t expected them to transform her into an angel. Her floor-length dress, train, veil, and cap were simply cut from pure white, handmade lace. The skirt was full and not drawn back into a fashionable bustle. He recognised the white lilies and white roses his grandmother grew in her hot houses in Ruth’s headdress and bouquet and saw Sonya’s artistic flair in the way they’d been tied with white ribbons. The overall effect was awe-inspiring. The only other time he could recall feeling so affected was when he first saw the icon of the Madonna that graced one of the side altars in the Church of the Annunciation on Vasilevsky in St Petersburg.
Forgetting the directives Father Grigor had given him at the rehearsal, he walked towards Ruth and held out his hand. She took it. He gazed into her eyes and saw his entire future mapped in their dark depths.
‘Alexei?’ He heard Father Grigor but couldn’t tear his gaze away from Ruth. ‘Do you want to marry this lovely bride before sunset or not, Alexei?’
Laughter rippled through the congregation.
Alexei grasped Ruth’s hand. ‘I do, Father Grigor. I most seriously do.’
Catherine Ignatova’s house, Hughesovka
September 1871
Alexei led his bride into the centre of the ballroom floor. The musicians struck the opening chords of a waltz and the guests applauded.
‘You must be very proud.’ John Hughes touched his glass to Catherine’s as Alexei whirled Ruth around the room.
‘I am.’ Catherine’s smile was strained. ‘I only hope Rabbi Goldberg will allow them to live in peace.’
‘He will, Catherine.’ Nathan appeared at her elbow with Vasya. ‘He has to accept that Ruth has made a choice that is recognised by the state and the Russian Orthodox Church. He won’t risk irritating either.’
Catherine clasped Nathan and Vasya’s hands. ‘I can’t thank both of you enough for coming to the wedding, for Alexei’s sake and mine.’
‘And Ruth’s,’ Nathan smiled. ‘She is my sister.’
‘Alexei will take good care of her.’
‘I know he will, Catherine. Thank you for organizing a wonderful wedding and wedding breakfast. I know that in your world that is the task of the bride’s family.’
‘Since my daughter and all but one of my granddaughters died in the cholera outbreak, Alexei, his little sister Kira, and my niece Sonya are all I have left, Nathan. It was an honour and a privilege to help plan this wedding for Ruth and Alexei. I know you and Vasya will be berated by Rabbi Goldberg and everyone in the shtetl for attending today.’
‘Our ears are strong enough to withstand a few harsh words. Thank you so much for your warm welcome, Catherine, but we have to leave. I have already been away from the hospital longer than I intended.’ Nathan shook Catherine’s hand and Vasya followed suit.
‘You’ll stay to wave the new Mr and Mrs Beletsky off?’ Catherine pleaded. ‘They’ll be leaving after their bridal dance.’
‘We can wait until then,’ Nathan capitulated.
‘I need to find my coat.’ Vasya looked around for a footman.
‘Boris will help you,’ Catherine pointed her in the direction of her butler. Vasya went to him but when Nathan followed his wife he was waylaid by Sonya.
‘It’s traditional for the bridesmaid to dance with the bride’s father, and as you gave the bride to her new family, that’s you.’
‘I am a very poor dancer,’ Nathan demurred.
‘I’ll help you improve.’
‘You won’t allow me to refuse your request?’
‘I won’t.’ She was smiling but there was steel in her voice.
Nathan glanced over his shoulder at the dance floor. It was filling up with guests who’d joined Alexei and Sonya. He welcomed the anonymity the crowd offered and held out his hand. Sonya took it and he led her into a gap that opened next to Anna who was dancing with Dmitri.
‘You’re far from a poor dancer, Dr Kharber,’ Sonya complimented.
‘I haven’t danced since I left Paris and that was a few years ago.’
‘Because we have so few dances in the town?’
‘Because my religion frowns on men and women dancing together.’
‘I’ve heard dance music being played in the shtetl when I visited the dressmaker, and Ruth is a beautiful dancer. She must have practised.’
‘She did with the women, and we men dance together, but dancing with the opposite sex is forbidden.’
‘How odd.’
‘You, like the friends I made in Paris and Vienna would find many things about my race odd,’ he qualified.
‘
Not once they were explained to me.’
‘It’s not always easy to explain tradition.’ He dropped his bantering tone. ‘I’m going to miss you in the hospital, Miss Tsetovna.’
‘You weren’t so formal in the hospital.’
‘We were often alone in the hospital office, now we’re in company.’
‘And you’re married.’ She hadn’t meant her observation to sound bitter. She loved Nathan with all her heart. She sensed that he loved her, yet nothing remotely personal had ever been spoken between them. But from the moment they’d begun working together in the hospital John Hughes had built, she’d nurtured a secret hope that one day Nathan, like his sister Ruth, would either renounce his faith, or ask her to convert to Judaism so they could marry.
When Nathan had asked to speak to her alone a few weeks ago, she’d half expected a proposal. Instead he’d given her advance notice of his marriage to Vasya Goldberg. Vasya was the Rabbi’s niece, a spinster past forty who looked nearer sixty and was ten years older than Nathan. Like everyone else who knew him, Sonya suspected that Nathan’s marriage had been Rabbi Goldberg’s “price” for allowing the wedding between Alexei and Ruth to go ahead.
‘What’s it like working for Mr Hughes?’
She looked up at Nathan and realised he’d spoken, but lost in thought she hadn’t heard a word he’d said. ‘I beg your pardon.’
‘It’s me who should beg yours,’ Nathan apologised. ‘You were obviously miles away, I asked about your work with Mr Hughes.’
‘It’s exciting and interesting,’ she gushed to conceal her embarrassment, hoping he hadn’t guessed that she’d been thinking about him. ‘I never believed I’d have the opportunity to put my language skills to use, but Mr Hughes sends letters all over Europe and America, and they all need translating.’
‘Exactly how many languages do you speak?’
‘Only the principal ones, English, French, German, Russian, Polish, Italian, Spanish, and Latin and Greek of course.’
‘Of course,’ he echoed.
‘You’re making fun of me.’
‘I didn’t mean to.’
Princes and Peasants Page 4