The music stopped, she stepped away from him.
‘Sonya…’
She looked over his shoulder and saw his wife. ‘Vasya’s waiting.’
‘I wanted to say I’m sorry.’
She didn’t need to ask for what. ‘Take this.’
She opened a small reticule hanging on her wrist and removed a packet of rice. He looked at it quizzically.
‘For you and Vasya to throw at the happy couple.’
‘They are happy, aren’t they,’ he murmured more to himself than her as Alexei escorted Ruth from the hall.
‘They are.’ Sonya had to force herself to smile. ‘If we follow Alexei and Ruth now, we’ll get close enough to shower them before anyone else.’
Prince Roman Nadolny watched Sonya lead the guests out of the ballroom and through the doors that opened into the hall. He followed the crowd at a leisurely pace with John Hughes.
‘A beautiful bride,’ John commented as Alexei wrapped Ruth in a silver fox fur cape that had been a wedding gift from Sonya.
‘She is,’ Roman agreed,
‘Are you looking at the bride or at Catherine’s niece, Sonya?’ John teased when he saw just who Roman was watching.
‘Both,’ Roman admitted as the guests followed Alexei and Ruth outside. ‘I take it Sonya is Catherine’s dipsomaniac lunatic brother’s illegitimate daughter. The niece who recently inherited a fortune?’
‘Sonya is the only niece of Catherine’s I’ve heard of,’ John relied cautiously. ‘But if she’s inherited a fortune I don’t know anything about it.’
‘Someone told me the family want to keep it quiet which is understandable. A young pretty girl in possession of two million roubles would attract fortune hunters like wolves to a cemetery.’
‘Two million … Are you sure we’re talking about the same girl? Sonya Tsetovna?’ John checked.
‘How many nieces does Catherine have with that name?’
‘As I said, only one I’m aware of,’ John confirmed. He glanced at Roman. ‘And while we’re talking about rumours, I’ve heard it said that you’re the richest man in Russia.’
‘I was before I loaned the Tsar money, and invested in your New Russia Company,’ Roman said drily.
‘So why ask about an heiress?’
Roman turned back to the ballroom and took two glasses of champagne from a waiter. He handed John one. ‘Money should marry money. Otherwise half of the marriage will always wonder if roubles were the only incentive for the other half to walk down the aisle. I’ve been looking for my heiress for some time.’
‘You think you’ve found her?’ John enquired.
‘You British are always in such a hurry. Time will tell, Mr Hughes.’
‘If we’re always in a hurry, it’s because you Russians are content to live with dreams. Without us Hughesovka wouldn’t exist, even on paper.’
‘Touché, Mr Hughes. But the world needs dreamers as well as men of action – we’re the ones who give practical men their ideas.’
Chapter Five
Alexei Beletsky’s cottage, Hughesovka
September 1871
Alexei stepped down from the carriage, turned and held out his arms to Ruth.
‘I can walk,’ she protested.
‘Absolutely not, Mrs Beletskaya. It’s bad luck for the bride to set foot between the carriage and the inside of her new house. Can’t you see the devil waiting to watch you trip, and when you do, he’ll rain down all his bad luck on both of us.’
‘You’ve just made that up!’ Ruth rose from the carriage seat.
‘Possibly, possibly not. Bring the lamp over here please, Igor.’ He glanced at the uneven ground as Igor lifted the lantern from the hook on the outside of the carriage and held it out in front of them. When he was certain the path was clear Alexei reached up and lifted Ruth into his arms.
‘Happy married life, young master, mistress. Good luck.’ Igor saluted them as he closed the carriage door.
‘Thank you, Igor, enjoy the rest of your evening.’
‘The party will be going on a while yet, sir. We’ll drink a fair few toasts to you and your beautiful bride and wish you both a long and happy life.’
‘Thank you, Igor.’ Alexei carried Ruth over the road, which was strewn with building rubble, up the garden path, swung her over the threshold and set her down in the hall.
‘Welcome home, master, mistress.’
‘Lev, Lada,’ Alexei greeted the couple he’d employed to run his household. His grandmother had warned that he’d never manage with just two servants, but he’d known Lev, who was the nephew of his grandmother’s butler Boris, and Lev’s wife Lada all his life. Like most Cossacks they were hard workers and he had no intention of employing a large staff like his grandmother, who had all the time in the world to visit the town markets and spread gossip.
Lev bowed and Lada curtsied. ‘Welcome to your home, master, mistress. Everything is as you ordered.’
‘Thank you, Lev. See you at breakfast, and not too early.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Goodnight, master, mistress.’
‘Goodnight,’ Ruth called as she ran up the stairs. She knew the layout as she’d helped Alexei choose the furniture for the house. It had been built around the same time as the house Catherine had sold to Glyn Edwards. Intended to house the estate’s huntsman, it had been ideally situated on the barren steppe. But since John Hughes had persuaded Catherine to lease him most of her land, the steppe had been encroached on by Hughesovka. After Catherine sold her brother’s house to Glyn, she’d decided it was ridiculous to leave her huntsman living in the centre of the town that had grown up around the cottage, so she moved him to alternative accommodation nearer her mansion.
Alexei had always liked the Cossack-built wooden cottage, and as it was close to the New Russia Company headquarters where he shared an office with Richard, he’d asked his grandmother to give it to him.
There were two bedrooms, a large and a small, on the first floor, and a single fairly large living room on the ground floor. An annexe built behind the cottage housed a bathhouse, kitchen, and two rooms that Alexei had renovated and turned into self-contained servants’ quarters. Alexei saw Lev and Lada out, locked the front and back doors, and walked up the staircase, which like most Cossack houses was intricately carved with designs of animals and plants.
Lada had left the oil lamp burning in the largest bedroom and it cast a golden glow over the polished wood walls and floor. Alexei and Ruth had chosen a plain pine bed and washstand. Chests, cupboards, and shelves had been built into the walls, which they’d decorated with an assortment of family photographs and a selection of Sonya’s and Alexei’s mother’s paintings. The overall effect was that of a rustic, reasonably well-to-do peasant’s home.
The allowance Alexei received from his grandmother was generous. He also earned good wages from the New Russia Company, and, given his contacts among the craftsmen in the area, he could have easily afforded to have built a more luxurious and substantial dwelling, but he was determined to live simply, and enjoy Ruth’s company – at least until their children came along when he knew that lack of space would dictate a move.
Lev had put the bottle of champagne he’d sent from his grandmother’s wine cellar along with a bucket of ice from her ice-house on a table in the bedroom. Next to it were two glasses, and a bowl of strawberries from Catherine’s hot-house. Ruth was standing at the window looking down at the street.
‘Happy, wife?’ Alexei stood behind her and kissed the back of her neck.
‘More than I believed possible.’
‘I told you we’d be married one day.’ He released her, closed the curtains, opened the champagne and poured two glasses. She picked up the cork along with the glass he handed her.
‘Why do you want that?’
‘Memories.’
‘We have our whole lives to make them.’
‘We have a saying in the shtetl, “Life is nothing but a dream, but don’t
wake me up!” This,’ she held up the cork, ‘is real and will remind me of tonight at a time when I may need to remember.’
‘I will fill every day with happiness so you can make new memories. So many memories it will be impossible for you to remember them all. We’ll grow old together, you and I.’ He took the glass from her, bent his head to hers, and kissed her.
She returned his kiss. ‘That bed looks very inviting.’
‘I thought brides were supposed to be coy.’
‘Not this one. Sometimes I think I’ve been waiting to be your wife for ever, but I’m glad we waited. This night is going to be very special.’
‘More memories?’
‘The best.’ She turned her back to him again. Heart pounding, he unbuttoned the row of pearls that fastened her gown.
Catherine Ignatova’s house, and Madam Koshka’s Salon, Hughesovka
September 1871
‘I will say goodnight, ladies, gentlemen.’
‘You’re going to bed early, Roman,’ Catherine commented.
‘Dmitri has persuaded Mr Hughes and I to call on an old friend for a nightcap.’
Catherine nodded. ‘I think you are referring to an old friend who also happens to be an old friend of mine. Please give her my special and warmest wishes.’
‘I will indeed, madam. Until breakfast.’ Roman kissed her hand and left with Dmitri and John. Their valets were waiting with their coats.
It was a short carriage ride into town. Dmitri disappeared down the corridor that led to the private rooms as soon as they reached Koshka’s and John was waylaid in the comfortable salon by a group of building contractors, leaving Roman to bask in the attentions of a pretty young redhead.
Koshka joined them. ‘So you stayed on in Hughesovka after all, Prince Roman?’
‘Mr Hughes found more work for me to do, which gave me an excuse to stay for Alexei and Ruth’s wedding, which was all a wedding should be. Catherine’s grandson made a suitably dashing bridegroom and his bride was extremely beautiful. You should have come. I know you had an invitation.’
‘I was there. I sat at the back of the church along with the other veiled widows.’
‘I didn’t see you.’
‘My intention was not to attract attention. I have French cognac in my room if you prefer it to the German you’re drinking, but if you would like Adele’s company…’
‘Who could resist your French cognac? My apologies, Adele, but Madam Koshka and I are old friends.’
‘Perhaps you’d like to enjoy my company later, sir?’
‘Perhaps.’ He winked at the girl before following Koshka into her small, exquisitely furnished inner sanctum.
‘My boudoir and office.’ She showed him in and closed the door, shutting out the noise of the salon.
After the chatter of conversation in the public rooms Roman found the silence soothing. ‘I recognise the furnishings from your Tverskaya Ulitsa establishment in Moscow. You and your girls have brought civilization to the steppe, Koshka.’
‘We try, but Hughesovka needs to be drastically improved in many ways before it will be a suitable town for a well-bred woman.’
‘It’s certainly a long way from the capital and your usual haunts. Are you happy here?’
‘Reasonably so. There’s money to be made in this town, Roman,’ Koshka said seriously. ‘More than Moscow, more even than St Petersburg. Every one of my girls has at least one regular, most have more, and although our clients may not be as aristocratic as those who frequented my Moscow salon, in general the gentlemen have better manners and are as rich, if not richer. They are also generally gentler and more respectful and appreciative of my own and my girls’ persons and feelings.’
Roman sat in one of the plush upholstered gilded chairs and watched Koshka pour two glasses of cognac. ‘John Hughes asked me to take a look around the town tomorrow and give my opinion on the way it’s developing.’
‘Haven’t you had enough time to look around it during the past few days?’
‘I’ve attended too many meetings in the New Russia Company’s offices, and too many discussions around Catherine’s dinner table to make time for an appraisal.’
‘So you’ve met John’s employees?’
‘Most of the senior ones, and Catherine’s family of course as I’m a guest in her house, although my room is in the wing John Hughes rents from her. Her grandson, Alexei, works for John and,’ Roman looked Koshka in the eye, ‘her niece Sonya is John’s interpreter.’
‘What of it?’ Koshka spoke sharply.
‘Have you met the girl? She’s extraordinarily beautiful and has been well educated.’ He took a cigar from the amber-plated humidor she offered him. ‘Thank you.’
‘Why would you be interested in Catherine’s niece?’ Koshka’s tone was far from casual.
‘Because I’ve heard rumours she’s an heiress. Two million roubles or thereabouts.’
‘Who told you that?’ Koshka sat tense and bolt upright on her chair.
Roman shrugged. ‘You can’t stop lawyers’ clerks from gossiping, Koshka.’
‘They have no right to discuss the affairs of their employers’ clients.’
‘I haven’t called on you to discuss the latest stories that are entertaining the socialites who frequent the Moscow and St Petersburg salons, Koshka. I came to give you advance notice that I intend to make Sonya Tsetovna an offer.’
‘Of marriage?’
‘Given her mother and aunt I wouldn’t dare suggest anything else.’ He sipped his brandy. ‘This is exceptionally good cognac.’
Koshka wasn’t prepared to be waylaid into a conversation on cognac. ‘Why do you think I would be interested in your plans?’
‘Because they concern Sonya, and you knew her mother.’
‘Sonya’s mother died shortly after she was born, which is why Catherine took her in and saw to the child’s upbringing and education,’ she said abruptly.
‘I have many fond memories of Sonya’s mother’s sterling qualities. Her strong character and loyalty to her friends.’ He looked her in the eye again.
She looked away first. ‘Why Sonya? You’re wealthier than the Pope, incredibly good-looking…’
‘For someone who’s half Chinese.’
‘False modesty doesn’t become you, Roman. Women are attracted to your exotic looks and you know it,’ she countered. ‘You’re in the prime of life. A snap of the fingers will bring you any woman you want. Two million roubles are not to be sneezed at but they are insignificant in comparison to your hundreds of millions. There are richer heiresses in the world. So why chose Sonya Tsetovna?’
‘Because she’s young, unspoilt, needs someone strong to guide her, and has already had her heart broken.’
‘You know a great deal about her.’
‘I saw her dance with the Jewish doctor who works in the hospital tonight.’
‘Alexei Beletsky and Ruth Kharber are a brave exception in this town. Nathan Kharber didn’t possess the courage to marry outside of his race.’
‘I met his wife.’
‘Vasya is a kind woman.’
‘A wife who won’t attract envious glances from other men.’
‘That is harsh. But to return to Sonya…’
‘You have no need to concern yourself, Koshka, I won’t hurry her. Just make my proposal and wait until she is ready to accept it or not, as she chooses. After all, she’s, what, sixteen, seventeen…’
‘Almost eighteen,’ Koshka interrupted quickly. Too quickly. ‘I had no idea you were on the lookout for a wife, Roman.’
‘I’ve been on the lookout for some years.’
‘I would never have guessed from your behaviour.’
‘You wouldn’t condemn a man for sowing a few wild oats, would you?’
‘Not when he sows them along with his roubles in my house.’
‘I’ve always pictured myself as the ideal family man and a faithful husband.’ He had the grace to smile. ‘Sometime in the future, that i
s.’
‘It’s an ideal I’ve heard about but, given my profession, one I’ve never become intimately acquainted with.’
‘In the meantime, as a bachelor, albeit one contemplating marriage, I’m free to indulge in a little more debauchery.’
‘Adele will be waiting and at your disposal. A prince with royal connections is a catch in this house, especially when he’s rumoured to be generous.’
‘I’ll compensate Adele for her time and expertise.’
‘I didn’t doubt you would. Just a gentle hint that there are other ladies in this house who are also worthy of your attention. Jealousy can undermine the entire atmosphere of a salon when favours are not evenly spread.’
‘Always thinking of others,’ Roman picked up Koshka’s hand and kissed it. ‘A pleasure to meet you again, madam.’
‘You’ll let me know Sonya’s reaction to your proposal?’
‘Of course. I will return before I leave town.’
‘And your real reason for wanting to marry her, Roman?’
‘You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, Koshka.’
‘Try me.’
‘Perhaps I will – one day.’
Koshka continued to sit alone in her room after Roman left. After a while she reached for her keys and unlocked a drawer in her desk. She removed the papers it contained and pressed a button at the back. A secret drawer flew open and she removed the album it contained.
The cover was embroidered with a single word. Sonya. She opened it and studied the first portrait. It was of a young woman holding a baby. Had she ever been that young? There was no mistaking the family resemblance. She could be Sonya as she’d seen her earlier that day in her bridesmaid’s dress.
And the baby – the baby she’d handed over to the child’s father’s sister shortly afterwards. She hadn’t lied to Roman.
The woman she’d been had died that day and Koshka had been born.
Chapter Six
Nathan Kharber’s house
September 1871
‘Do you have to work tonight?’ Vasya asked Nathan as he walked her into the hospital grounds and to the door of the doctor’s house that came as part of his salary.
‘I’m sorry, Vasya. I have to,’ Nathan replied. ‘I’ll try not to disturb you when I come in.’
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