Princes and Peasants

by Catrin Collier

  ‘And they agreed?’

  ‘Not exactly, sir,’ Ilya broke in. ‘Not until Ianto offered them money.’

  ‘You paid them?’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Mervyn chipped in, oblivious to Ianto’s warning look. ‘We paid them twenty kopeks apiece.’

  ‘Is that right?’ Levsky demanded of Ianto.

  Deciding there was little point in denying it, Ianto conceded, ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘So you rode pillion into town at the back of Mr Komansky’s coach, then what?’

  ‘When we reached town we saw a girl we knew…’

  ‘How did you know a Russian girl?’ Levsky narrowed his eyes sceptically.

  ‘She’s Welsh – Anna Parry – gave us a lot of trouble back in Merthyr, sir. She went to the police and accused us of attacking her and –’

  ‘Did you attack her?’ Levsky demanded.

  ‘We had some fun with her, that’s all, sir. She enjoyed it as much as we did.’

  ‘You sure about that?’ Levsky continued to stare at both men.

  ‘Girls always say no when they mean yes, sir. Everyone knows that.’

  ‘And the girl you attacked in town?’

  ‘We didn’t mean to hurt her, sir.’

  ‘No?’ Levsky looked pointedly at the bloodstained clothes on the floor.

  ‘She didn’t seem to remember us, sir,’ Mervyn gushed, trying to be helpful again. ‘She started lashing out at us. She hurt us…’

  ‘One girl against two of you and she hurt you?’ Levsky was incredulous.

  ‘Ianto pulled her back behind the house…’

  ‘That’s enough, Mervyn,’ Ianto snapped.

  Nonplussed, Mervyn continued. ‘The girl carried on fighting, sir. She scratched and bit us, Ianto told her to be quiet but she took no notice.’

  ‘You dragged her behind the house?’ Levsky held up his hand to silence Ianto when he tried to answer for his brother. ‘Is that right, Mervyn? You dragged her behind the house?’ he reiterated.

  ‘We didn’t drag her, sir,’ Mervyn answered. ‘Ianto carried her.’

  ‘You followed?’

  ‘We did, sir,’ Mervyn admitted.

  ‘We?’ Levsky turned to Ilya and Gleb.

  ‘All four of us, sir,’ Mervyn beamed.

  ‘Four of you,’ Levsky reiterated. ‘So who exactly is lying here?’

  ‘The Paskeys stripped her, not Ilya and me,’ Gleb intervened in an attempt to fix the blame firmly on the Paskeys. ‘She was lying there waiting…’

  ‘Asking to be raped?’ Levsky’s voice was chill, unemotional.

  ‘Exactly, sir,’ Gleb said, misunderstanding him.

  ‘Who beat her?’ Levsky cut in.

  ‘She tried to run, she fell and hit her head.’

  ‘You expect me to believe that?’ Levsky stared at Ilya.

  ‘It’s the truth.’

  ‘I heard the girl was covered in injuries and bruises.’

  ‘She struggled a bit.’

  ‘Four men and one girl – you’re real heroes, if it took four of you to subdue one girl,’ Nicholas jeered.

  Levsky had heard enough. ‘Ilya, Gleb, clean this room and the Paskeys. After they come in from the yard lock them in here, and from now until they leave this house they stay here. They don’t leave this room under any circumstances. Their food will be brought to them here, either by you or Gleb, understood?’

  ‘Yes, master,’ Ilya said contritely.

  ‘The four of you are aware that you murdered that girl?’

  ‘She was alive when we left her,’ Ianto protested.

  ‘If she’s dead she’s putting it on, sir,’ Mervyn blurted without thinking what he was saying. Ianto kicked him. ‘What was that for?’ he whined.

  ‘Someone must have killed her after we left if she’s really dead,’ Ianto protested. ‘She did something the same in Merthyr. Had the police and everyone in town believing that she was knocking at death’s door…’

  ‘I have no idea what you think you did, or who you thought you “had fun” with, but you didn’t attack a Welsh girl. She was a Jewish nurse from the shtetl. If the Fire Brigade find you – any of you –’ Levsky stared at all four men, ‘they’ll string you up on the nearest post for murder. One wrong step from any one of you and I’ll send for them myself. Is that understood? Is it?’ he repeated when his words were met by silence.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ all four men chorused.

  ‘I’ll speak to Mr Komansky in the morning. He’ll be planning to leave for his estates in the east as soon as possible,’ Levsky predicted. ‘Hopefully tomorrow. You two,’ he glared at Ianto and Mervyn, ‘will ride pillion on his carriage when he travels. Mr Komansky has coal mines and a small iron foundry. If he can’t find work for you when you reach there, you’ll have to shift for yourselves. Either way I don’t want to see you back here again after you’ve left. If I do, I’ll take pleasure in shooting you myself.’

  ‘Sir,’ Ianto ventured. ‘I don’t suppose you’d consider sending us back to Taganrog. From there we might find a ship to take us back to Wales…’

  ‘You don’t suppose right,’ Levsky broke in. ‘You have a choice. East with Mr Komansky or the end of a rope strung up by the Fire Brigade.’

  ‘We’ll go east, sir.’ Ianto attempted to look contrite and humble.

  ‘I wouldn’t blame Mr Komansky if he put a bullet in your heads before you arrive.’

  ‘You don’t think he’ll kill us, do you, sir?’ Mervyn was terrified by the thought.

  ‘I’d applaud him if he did.’ Levsky strode back down the corridor with Nicholas dogging his steps.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Betty Edwards’s suite, Hotel Hughesovka

  December 1871

  ‘Not a bit like a Welsh engagement ring, or even a Welsh wedding ring come to that,’ Betty sniffed disparagingly after glancing at the Russian ring on Alice’s hand.

  Betty was annoyed with Alice and had no intention of keeping her disapproval to herself. Before she’d finished her breakfast, or even dressed her hair for the day, Alice had bounced into their hotel suite bringing Misha Razin in with her without a word of warning. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Alice had compounded her transgression by showing off the ring Misha had given her and announcing that she’d accepted Misha’s proposal of marriage, without asking for Betty’s approval.

  ‘Alice said you wanted to open a business here, Mrs Edwards?’ Hoping for an invitation to sit down, Misha hovered next to the breakfast table. He believed that the best way to get the older woman on his side was to make her indebted to him. He was already formulating a plan to help Alice realise her ambition of going into business – with luck in partnership with Betty Edwards. For all of Alice’s claims to wealth, he’d heard mention of the pub Betty had inherited and sold, and suspected that she had even more money than Alice.

  ‘What’s it to you whether I open a business or not, Captain Razin?’ Betty snapped.

  ‘It’s none of my concern, Mrs Edwards, unless I can volunteer my services to help you in some way. This town is my home – or rather the Cossack village that was here before Hughesovka is. Now, with so many people moving here, there are plenty of business opportunities. I’m even thinking of going into business myself.’

  ‘You’re a soldier.’

  ‘Only at the moment, Mrs Edwards. I’m making plans to leave the regiment. Transport is proving a problem in Hughesovka. I have contacts among the Cossack horse breeders and I’m considering setting up a horse-trading establishment, not only to serve the local population but also the army. Every Cossack regiment needs a regular supply of good-quality bloodstock.’

  ‘Isn’t there a stables in the town?’ Betty knew full well that there was. She’d even hired a carriage from there so she could look around the area.

  ‘There is, Mrs Edwards. A fine one that rents out carts, carriages, and horses. They also need to buy their horses from somewhere.’

  ‘You’ve never mentioned leaving the regime
nt before, Misha.’ Alice said reproachfully. She liked the idea of marrying a Cossack captain and had been looking forward to the Russian version of the regimental “ladies’ dinners” in the officers’ mess, something she’d read about in novels set in English military society in India.

  ‘Of course I’ll leave the regiment before we marry, my love,’ Misha confirmed. ‘Officers’ wives lead miserable lives. They are forever packing and unpacking and following their husband’s postings to the uncivilised borders of the Russian Empire. I’ve been in the army almost five years. It’s time I settled in one place. I’m especially looking forward to taking orders from no one other than my wife.’ He reached for her hand and kissed her fingertips.

  Betty snorted.

  Misha launched another charm offensive in her direction. ‘Alice mentioned that you would like to open a shop that sells ladies’ gowns, accessories, face creams, and perfumes, Mrs Edwards.’

  Betty glared at Alice. ‘You discussed our idea with a stranger.’

  ‘Hardly a stranger, Betty. We’re to be married.’

  ‘Just as soon as it can be arranged after I have gained my colonel’s authority to resign my commission.’ Misha kissed Alice’s fingertips again. ‘My wife to be speaks of you as her most highly regarded, respected, and trusted friend, Mrs Edwards, and I hope that in time you will also extend that friendship to me.’ Misha gave Betty the full benefit of his most dazzling smile. When she didn’t reply, he ventured. ‘I think a ladies’ fashion and beauty shop is something that is desperately needed in this town.’

  ‘Now you’re an expert in ladies’ fashion?’

  ‘I would never claim to be an expert when it comes to ladies’ gowns, especially to you and Alice, Mrs Edwards. Your style and elegance speaks for itself. But before I came here I was stationed at St Petersburg and Moscow. I spent several months in both cities, which was long enough to realise that when it comes to ladies’ clothing, the steppe is decades, not months, behind current fashion.’

  ‘You are right. The question is, would there be a market for a sophisticated ladies’ dress shop in Hughesovka?’

  ‘I believe there would, Mrs Edwards.’

  ‘Then why haven’t I seen one on the few occasions I’ve left the hotel?’

  ‘Because no one has as yet thought of opening one,’ Misha answered. ‘There are tailors in the Jewish quarter. One or two even carry a limited stock of fabrics, but mainly men’s suiting. Most of the Russian women, Cossacks included, make their clothes at home.’

  ‘Out of what?’ Betty demanded, ‘is there a warehouse close by I haven’t yet found?’

  ‘They use whatever materials the pedlars carry with them. They generally visit once or twice a year.’

  ‘Where do women go to purchase their cold creams, perfumes, gloves, scarves, shoes, jewellery … undergarments, and all the other things they need?’ Betty queried. ‘And don’t try telling me that pedlars bring all those things too. We had pedlars in Merthyr. They could never supply everything a woman needs.’

  ‘Until Mr Hughes arrived this place was barely a village, Mrs Edwards. If we didn’t produce it, or the Jews didn’t make it, we had to do without. Now we have managers who are married to fine ladies.’ He saw Betty scowl, remembered Glyn and Praskovia and moved the conversation on swiftly, while uttering a silent but heartfelt prayer that she wouldn’t discover Praskovia was his sister until his ring had been firmly placed on Alice’s finger in front of the priest.

  ‘There are some ladies I wouldn’t allow to set foot over the threshold of my shop,’ Betty barked.

  ‘Of course. No one could expect a fine lady like yourself to cater for some of the … less respectable women in the town,’ he phrased delicately. ‘But you only have to look at the visitors staying in this hotel to see the quality of the people who would patronise your shop. And once the ironworks begins smelting at full capacity, and all the collieries are working under the guidance of managers who will bring their attendant wives and daughters to the town, you will find yourself with an enormous number of customers eager to exchange the money their husbands and fathers are earning for your luxury goods.’

  ‘Where will you get your stock, Betty?’ Alice asked.

  ‘If John Hughes can ship in everything he needs for his furnaces, factories, and collieries, I can ship in the stock for my shop. I’ve the addresses of a few warehouses, including the ones in Pontypridd and Cardiff where I know the managers. I’m sure they’ll supply me, even here, if I offer to buy from them at the right price.’

  ‘Once I leave the army I could escort you and Alice to Taganrog, St Petersburg, and Moscow. There are large stores and warehouses in all three cities. I am certain they would be only too pleased to support you in your venture, and,’ Misha flashed a smile again, ‘I could translate for you.’

  ‘Yes, I can see you’d be useful. But before I do anything else I need to buy premises, a shop with living accommodation above for myself, Harriet, and her nursemaid. And for Alice before she marries you,’ she added pointedly.

  ‘I can help you there too.’ There are many empty plots of land after the fire.’

  ‘All the builders are busy replacing the burned-out houses and shops. Given the difference between what I can pay and what John Hughes can pay, I have a feeling I’d be far down the list of their priorities when it comes to carrying out the work that I want done.’

  ‘Not at all, Mrs Edwards. I have a simple solution to your problem. Cossack houses are made of wood. Fairly easy to take down, move and erect again on a new site.’

  ‘I’m not too sure of a wooden house after the fire…’

  ‘It would only be temporary until you could replace it with brick, or you could commission a builder to erect brick walls outside of the wooden ones.’

  ‘You know of such a house?’

  ‘I own one, Mrs Edwards,’ Misha said confidently, conveniently forgetting that legally it was his mother’s and after her death would be as much Praskovia’s and Pyotr’s as his. Another detail he’d need to sort out was alternative accommodation for the three families who were presently lodging in the house and paying his mother rent.

  ‘You really could arrange a house for us?’

  ‘Give me a month,’ he boasted recklessly, ‘just leave it with me.’

  ‘Would it be large enough for all of us?’ Alice asked.

  ‘It has four rooms on the second floor and a large open area on the ground floor, perfect for a shop.’

  ‘And the cost?’ Betty wrinkled her nose.

  ‘Will be dependent on many factors, Mrs Edwards, but I’m sure we could come to an agreement.’ Misha picked up the bottle of vodka the maid had brought with Betty’s breakfast. He filled three of the glasses on a side tray, passed one to Alice, and another to Betty. He raised his glass.

  ‘To a successful and wealthy future.’

  Alice’s eyes glowed with love as she repeated his toast. Betty drank slowly, grimacing, and her look became even more wary when Misha hurled his glass into the hearth.

  Blast Furnace, New Russia Company Ironworks, Hughesovka

  January 1872

  ‘Gentlemen,’ John Hughes looked at the men crowded around him in the sub-zero temperature. All were shivering in the biting wind that had hurtled over the snow-steeped steppe before hitting the blast furnace. ‘Please, take a glass of champagne from the trays that are passing among you. Hold it close and breathe on it lest it freeze before you drink it.’ He stepped up on to a box and watched the clerks move through the crowd so he could check that everyone had a drink.

  When he was certain that everyone had been served, he looked pointedly at the molten iron pouring from the blast furnace. ‘There you have it, gentleman. The New Russia Company’s first scheduled production of pig iron. The forerunner of a veritable river of molten iron that will transform not only this town, but this country. Our British and Russian employees have proved our detractors wrong, and helped produce this iron in record shattering time. Gentlemen
?’ He lifted his glass high in the air. ‘We’ve done it. The Tsar will have his rails to build a network of iron roads and engines from one end of this vast country to the other. Russia will not only be industrialised as a result of our efforts but revolutionised. Twenty – no, ten – five years from now this great nation will be unrecognisable. Gentlemen, please toast with me, “The New Russia Company, and every one of its workers”.’

  Glasses clinked as the toast echoed and resounded around the blast furnace.

  John raised his glass a second time. ‘And here’s to the success of whatever else the Tsar and his government contract us to produce. The New Russia Company is here to stay.’

  John stepped down from his box and smiled when he saw Glyn, Roman, Alexei, and Richard all fish ice from their glasses.

  ‘I warned you to drink before the contents froze. In the meantime I suggest we retire to our offices or draw closer to the blast furnaces before we freeze to death.’

  Roman led the way back to the waiting carriages. ‘Tell me,’ he looked from Glyn to John, ‘did you really believe a year ago that you would be going into full production of pig iron by January this year?’

  John winked at Glyn. ‘We never doubted it for one minute, but we have one major advantage over you.’

  ‘What’s that?’ Roman asked.

  ‘We’re Welsh,’ John laughed.

  Hospital and Madam Koshka’s salon

  February 1872

  Nathan left his desk, packed his doctor’s coat into his bag, dressed in his black coat and hat, and, after informing the duty porter where he was going, left the hospital for Koshka’s. It was part of his duties as company doctor to visit the brothel on a weekly basis to examine the girls but Koshka hadn’t needed a directive from John Hughes to persuade her to agree to the monitoring. She’d asked Nathan’s predecessor, Peter Edwards, the first time she’d met him to check her girls’ health.

  He stepped out of the front door and came face to face with Sonya and her chaperone Maria. He tipped his hat to them.

  ‘Good morning, ladies.’