‘I think Komansky would have been angry enough to say something before Fritz knocked him senseless if he had. Fritz told me he warned Koshka that her husband’s brother was in the house. She didn’t enter the public rooms until Komansky was in a private room. When Fritz threw Komansky out he took care to keep him away from Koshka.’
‘She is fortunate to have such loyal staff.’
‘She inspires loyalty,’ Roman said thoughtfully. ‘When I heard people talking about Sonya in St Petersburg after your last visit, it was as your brother Sergei’s daughter and your niece. No one mentioned her mother, not even to repeat the story I presume you and Koshka put about that she’d died shortly after giving birth to a daughter.’
‘What did they say about my brother?’
Roman looked Catherine in the eye. ‘Things no sister would want to hear.’
‘That he was a gambler and a drunk who lost his inheritance and fortune at the card tables and his health in a brothel.’ She said what he couldn’t bring himself to say.
‘Words to that effect,’ he hedged tactfully.
‘And that he went mad and wandered around the streets of Moscow in his nightshirt brandishing a gun?’
‘That too.’
‘Nothing was said about her mother?’
‘No. In fact I was surprised that Nicholas Beletsky knew as much as he did.’
‘Nicholas knew Elizabeth as an old family friend. He was dining here the night I received the message from Elizabeth to say that my brother was sick and destitute in Moscow. My husband had just died; Olga had not long given birth to Alexei but was already expecting another child. To be honest, I was glad of the excuse to travel. As you know, I didn’t only find my brother physically sick but mentally. Fortunately Dmitri had travelled with me and he arranged for my brother to be admitted to a sanatorium.
‘Sonya’s mother – who you now know as Koshka – had had every excuse to desert my brother but hadn’t. She was no longer living with him, because she didn’t want to expose her child to disease, but she’d rented rooms for him and paid for a nurse to care for him with money she’d solicited from her new protector.’
‘My father,’ Roman guessed.
‘Your father. I knew Elizabeth had left her husband. Even on the steppe I’d heard the scandal, that she’d left Komansky to live with Sergei. The unkind enjoyed repeating the gossip to me, using it as yet another example of Sergei’s debauchery. His planned and calculated seduction of a happily married woman, enticing her away from her loving husband. God only knows that was nowhere near the truth, but I don’t have to explain to you what the Komanskys are capable of.’
‘You heard about Adele’s beating.’
Catherine nodded. ‘What I didn’t know when I arrived in Moscow to answer Elizabeth’s summons was that she’d had a child. Hardly expected at her age. I pleaded with her to return here with me so we could bring her daughter up together.’
‘She wouldn’t come?’
‘I tried everything I knew to make her change her mind, but she realised that her reputation had gone and with it all hope of respectability, not only for her but her child. She reminded me that society was unforgiving to those who break its strict moral rules. But she trusted your father to care for her, which he did until the day he died – and afterwards. She opened her salon with money he left her. To return to that trip to Moscow, I tried to reimburse your father for the money he’d given Elizabeth to clear Sergei’s debts and pay for his living expenses. Your father wouldn’t hear of it.’
‘He cleared Sonya’s father’s debts but wouldn’t allow her mother to keep her child?’ Roman shook his head in disgust.
‘No. Your father offered, but Elizabeth was insistent that I should take her daughter, although it was obvious she dreaded being parted from her. She was so adamant that your father and I felt we had no choice but to obey her. She told me in confidence that your father loathed children and that in time he would allow his dislike to show and drive a wedge either between her and her child or her and your father.’
Roman gave a sardonic laugh. ‘She was right. My father had no time for children. So you took Sonya.’
‘I took Sonya and brought her back here, much to Nicholas’s disgust. He tried to stop his children from playing with her. He wanted me to raise Sonya as a servant rather than a member of the family.’
‘But you wouldn’t listen to him.’
‘Not just me, his children. You’ve seen how close Sonya and Alexei are. Sonya’s presence just gave me and Nicholas one more thing to quarrel over. But to return to the point of this discussion: Koshka is a successful courtesan. There are people in St Petersburg who know her real identity.’
‘If they really know Koshka they will respect her too much to want to hurt her.’
‘Komansky knows, as does Nicholas Beletsky, and neither of them respect Koshka. They might have told Levsky and others who Koshka is. Then there are servants, past and present; not all keep secrets.’
‘You want Sonya to know that her mother is still alive?’
‘Before someone else tells her, yes.’
‘And you want her to know her mother’s true identity?’
‘For the same reason.’
‘The secret isn’t ours to tell.’ Roman took his cigar case from his pocket.
‘It’s Koshka’s, and she needs to realise the devastating effect it could have on Sonya if she hears it from the wrong people. Tell me truthfully, have you never thought of telling Sonya exactly who her mother is?’
‘I’ve thought about it,’ Roman admitted. ‘I’ve been bracing myself to call on Koshka before the wedding with the intention of trying to persuade her to meet Sonya and attend our wedding.’
‘Good luck.’ Catherine left her chair.
‘You’re handing me the task?’ Despite the circumstances Roman couldn’t conceal his amusement at Catherine’s total abdication of responsibility.
‘I’ve failed to make Koshka see sense in the matter. It’s your turn to try.’
‘I’ll call in and see Koshka tomorrow and warn her of the consequences should Sonya find out her mother’s identity from someone less sympathetic.’
‘Thank you, Roman.’ Catherine kissed his cheek. ‘You will take care of Sonya for me.’
‘In every way possible while I still breathe, and financially afterwards. I promise you, Catherine. In that respect I am my father’s son.’
Catherine hesitated. She wanted to ask him if he loved Sonya but sensed that he would resent the question, especially in view of what Koshka had told her about Sonya loving Nathan Kharber.
He looked at her expectantly.
‘You’ll be the first to know the outcome of my discussion with Koshka.’
‘I don’t doubt it. I have something for you.’ She slipped her hand into the pocket of her dress and pulled out a key. She took his hand, pressed it into his palm and folded his fingers over it.
He opened his hand. ‘A key?’
‘A master key that will open any door of this house, including the communicating doors between the wing where you sleep and this wing. The pillars that lead up to the balcony are covered in ice. I’d hate for you to slip and break your neck on the way up to the balcony, and the French doors of Sonya’s room.’
‘You know?’
‘I know everything that goes on in this house, Roman.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Sorry you took advantage of my hospitality, and my niece’s innocence, to seduce her, or sorry you were found out?’
‘All three.’
‘Sleep well in my niece’s bed, Roman.’
‘I will, Catherine.’ He dared to rise and kiss her cheek.
After Catherine left, Roman made his way to the only unlocked door that connected the wing of the house John Hughes was renting to Catherine’s wing. He climbed the stairs, walked to the end of the first floor corridor, and slipped the key into the lock. It turned easily. He opened the door and found himself in the co
rridor that housed Catherine and Sonya’s bedrooms.
He walked down the corridor, and knowing that Sonya was expecting him to walk through the French doors that opened on to the balcony, slipped the key into the lock of her bedroom and turned it.
‘Roman!’ She sat up in bed as he walked in.
He held his finger to his lips, locked the door, and set the key on her dressing table, before bolting the French doors and pulling the drapes.
‘You walked up the stairs? How did you have a key?’
‘I came in through the connecting door to the east wing. Your aunt gave me a master key. She knows where I’ve been spending my nights.’ He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it on to a chair.
‘Did she say anything?’
‘She asked me to take care of you.’
‘Was she angry?’
‘Hardly, she gave me the master key. After all,’ he smiled, ‘a few more days and we’ll be married, and until then,’ he stooped down and kissed her lips, ‘your aunt recognises that we need to practise.’
Madam Koshka’s salon
April 1872
Roman waited for Fritz to open the door to Koshka’s boudoir before entering and presenting her with a bouquet of flowers.
‘For me, how lovely.’ She set down her pen and took them from him. ‘The scent is divine. It’s rare to find hothouse blooms that hold their perfume.’
‘It is, and I can take no credit. The scent is the result of Catherine’s gardener’s experiments with rose bushes and trees. They are a gift from her. I’m only the delivery boy.’
‘Please thank her for me.’
‘I will.’
‘And excuse my manners. Please sit down, pour yourself a drink, or would you prefer coffee?’
‘A small brandy would go down well. I’ve a feeling I’ll soon be needing the courage.’ He waited while she opened the door and passed the bouquet to Fritz, together with instructions to give the flowers to one of the maids, to be put in water.
She closed the door and returned to her seat by the desk. ‘A few more days and you’ll be a married man.’
‘I’m here to invite you to the wedding.’
‘I will be there, as I was at Alexei and Ruth’s, sitting at the back of the church with the veiled widows.’
‘That is what I was afraid you’d say. You do realise that after we’re married I will be taking Sonya to St Petersburg.’
‘You’re honeymooning there?’
‘St Petersburg will be our first stop, I’ve made plans for us to travel around Europe. We’re visiting St Petersburg first because I have business to conduct with Grand Duke Konstantin on Mr Hughes’s behalf. The New Russia Company have placed bids on several government contracts, and I have undertaken to do all I can to secure them.’
‘A worthy cause. Even I can see that Russia needs to modernise and industrialise.’
‘I need your help, Koshka.’
‘Really?’ She filled two glasses and handed him one.
‘Catherine and I agree that in taking Sonya from here to St Petersburg I will be exposing her to people who know more about her parents’ past than she does.’
Koshka drained her glass.
‘She needs to know the truth, Koshka.’
‘She knows her father is in a sanatorium.’
‘Her father is not the problem, as you well know.’
‘Her mother is dead.’
Roman took a deep breath. ‘Too many people know that is not the case. Komansky…’
‘Didn’t see me when Fritz threw him out. If he had, he’d have created a scene.’
‘And the next time he walks in?’
‘Fritz has taken care that Komansky won’t get past the door.’
‘Komansky isn’t the only one who knows your real identity. Nicholas Beletsky…’
‘He hasn’t said anything, has he?’
‘He told Sonya that her mother is – is, not was – a whore before Catherine and I could stop him. If Sonya and I meet him in public in St Petersburg, I might not be able to prevent him from saying more.’
‘What do you want me to do, Roman?’
‘Meet Sonya. Tell her the truth before someone else relates a distorted version of the facts. Introduce yourself.’
‘And if she can’t forgive me for abandoning her, or being a whore?’
‘You didn’t abandon her, you gave her to Catherine to bring up so that should tell you something about the kind of woman she has become. And when all is said and done, you’re her mother. I need look no further to see where Sonya has inherited her beauty, generosity, and kindness. Please, Koshka, for all our sakes, meet Sonya and tell her the truth.’ He looked at her. It seemed a long time before she nodded agreement. ‘Soon?’ he pressed.
‘But not in public.’
‘Of course.’
‘And on one condition.’ Koshka opened her drawer, and extracted the album she’d secreted at the back. ‘That you give her this, not as a gift but as a loan, and that you and Catherine tell Sonya the truth before I see her.’
‘Where and when will you meet Sonya?’
‘Catherine’s house on your wedding day – but only after you and Catherine have spoken to her.’
Chapter Thirty-one
Madam Koshka’s salon
April 1872
‘Are you sure you’re all right?’ Praskovia whispered to Sarah for the tenth time in as many minutes as they entered the church on Catherine’s estate.
‘Quite sure, and not so loud.’ Sarah glanced up at Richard. Fortunately he’d gone ahead to talk to John Hughes, who was sitting in the front pew with Catherine and Ruth, so he hadn’t heard Praskovia.
Praskovia beckoned to the nursemaid she’d engaged to help her with Pavlo. ‘Please sit on the end of the pew behind me, Galina, and if Pavlo makes a sound during the service take him from me and carry him into the vestry.’
‘Yes, madam.’ The girl curtsied and perched on the edge of the pew ready to stand if anyone should want to go into the pew ahead of her.
‘I can see you grimacing,’ Praskovia warned Sarah as they sat behind Catherine and John.
‘False labour,’ Sarah dismissed. ‘These are the slow contractions that come the week before the birth. You know how much you suffered with backache before Pavlo was born. I’ll be fine,’ Sarah smiled at Glyn who was standing next to Roman in front of the altar. Richard joined them, reached for Sarah’s hand and squeezed it.
‘You sure you’re all right? You look…’
‘What?’ Sarah interrupted.
‘Odd?’ Richard suggested warily.
‘I’m fine.’
The choir broke into song, and everyone turned towards the door. Alexei led Sonya inside, Anna straightening the train of Sonya’s dress as she followed them.
A gasp rippled through the congregation, and Catherine brushed a tear from her eye at the sight of the dress she had worn to marry Alexei Ignatov, a man twenty years older than her with the reputation of a rake and a womaniser. She looked from Sonya to Roman. The dress was the same. The bride, beautiful – far more beautiful than her – or so she believed. The groom? Would Sonya be able to turn a blind eye to Roman’s faults as she’d managed to do with her Alexei?
‘I thought Roman said he wanted a small wedding,’ John whispered below the level of the choir. ‘The church is as packed as it was for Alexei and Ruth’s.’
‘It’s not every day that a prince is married in the Donbas,’ Catherine whispered in reply.
The bridal party reached the altar. Alexei placed Sonya’s hand in Roman’s and stepped back beside Ruth. Father Grigor held out his hand to Glyn who handed him the betrothal rings. The priest recited a blessing and bible passage before blessing the couple. Then proceeded to repeat the ritual three times. Sarah knew every ceremony was repeated three times in the Russian Orthodox church to represent the Holy Trinity, but it made for very long services and for all the excuses she had given Praskovia, she knew she was in labour.
> Glyn, in his capacity as koumbaros or best man – a solemn position that Father Grigor had warned him before he’d accepted the position at Alexei’s wedding, and repeated when he’d agreed to act as Roman’s koumbaros, made him an important person in the couple’s lives – moved next to Roman. Father Grigor and Anna stood either side of Sonya. After the rings had been blessed for the last time, Father Grigor made the sign of the cross, pressed the rings against the bride and bridegroom’s forehead three times, then exchanged the rings between the couple's fingers three times, to signify that the weakness of one would be compensated by the strength of the other, before finally setting the rings on the third finger of the right hand.
Father Grigor solemnly lit two candles and placed them in Roman and Sonya’s left hands, where Sarah knew from witnessing Alexei’s wedding to Ruth, they would remain for the remainder of the service. The priest joined Roman and Sonya’s right hands while praying for their marriage.
A ripple akin to a sigh rippled through the audience as Father Grigor opened a box on a side table and extracted two magnificent crowns, wrought in gleaming silver and gold studded with emeralds. The crosses on the top of each crown were joined by white ribbon to symbolize the unity of marriage. Alexei changed the crowns between Sonya and Roman’s heads three times each.
Sarah had no experience of kings and queens or royal courts, but she imagined the crowns Roman had provided would not look out of place in the reception room of the Winter Palace, after having heard Richard and Glyn’s description of the place. Alexei and Ruth had been crowned during their marriage, but their crowns had been garlanded white roses on simple wooden frameworks that Alexei had asked Pyotr to carve for them. She knew, from something Alexei had said, that the crowns would be treasured by the married couple for life. Alexei’s grandfather and his mother Olga had both been buried with theirs.
Sarah’s pains intensified as Father Grigor read yet more Bible passages. At the end of the reading he offered Roman and Sonya a gold chalice, referring to it as a ‘common cup’, something Sarah took to be an irony considering the ornate design etched on the sides and the gems studded below the rim.
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