Lena tripped on her own feet and almost fell. What was the point of dwelling on it? Yet she kept seeing Pavel’s face.
She turned her attention to the arched windows lining the hall, beyond which were Peterhof’s lavish gardens and gilded fountains. The gardens were open to the public during the summer. Hansom cabs lined the gates. She could step into any one and hand the driver a bill from the envelope. As simple as that. Alexandra would ask after her, of course, and maybe Masha. Pavel might wonder about her, at least she liked to think so. No one else would even notice she had left.
After she secured a ride, then what? The unfamiliar sensation of choice stalled her, made her feel adrift and without direction. She had enough money to start over anywhere she wanted. But where? She rubbed her temples.
Anywhere.
The thought hovered uncertainly and she teetered on her feet. The solution came to her then in a stroke of gleaming light. She might still save the young grand duchess and protect her brother at the same time.
Lena lifted her skirts and ran all the way back upstairs to the master suite. Her feet slipped on the polished floor and she extended her arms to regain her balance.
As she reached for the knob, she heard feet pattering. The door swung open. Marie stood before her, hair unfurled from the velvet ribbons she used to keep it in a chignon at the top of her head. Lena took a tiny step back, fearing the gleam in Marie’s dark eyes. Marie looked as though the slightest irritation might provoke her, and then she would pounce and tear Lena apart.
But there, tucked away in her grandmother’s arms, the baby peacefully slept.
“I couldn’t leave her.” The words came out in a rush. Lena didn’t want to lose her nerve. “Let me take her away from Saint Petersburg. I’ll hide her. No one will ever know.”
“Leave the country?” Marie’s voice sounded fierce and almost mocking. “I thought you and your family were patriotic subjects.”
Lena bowed her head, but her gaze stayed focused on the sleeping baby. “If what you say is true, I can serve Russia better by taking her away. I speak English. I’ll go to England. I could find work in a shop or as a nanny.”
“Won’t you miss your family? You’ll never see them again.”
Her mother’s face loomed large in her mind, still disapproving. Lena shook the memory away. She had forgiven her mother. She no longer had power over her. She’d miss Anton, of course, but then he’d left her no other options. “They’ll understand.”
Marie glanced at the child. Lena wanted to pry the baby from her arms, but she knew better than to try to force Marie’s hand. “What if you need money? You’ll be tempted to reveal her identity.”
“Not if it meant endangering the empress and—” Lena almost said her brother’s name, but stopped herself in time. She couldn’t bear to hear Marie threaten him again.
The grand duchess awoke and Marie shifted the baby in her arms. The tiny girl looked at Lena for a moment, her blue eyes clear. Then, as though grasping the dire nature of her situation, she squeezed her eyes shut and began to whimper.
Marie thrust the child into Lena’s arms. “Thank God you volunteered,” she whispered. “I thought I might have to force you. Take her before she starts crying and someone hears.”
Lena swept the baby into her arms and pressed her to her chest. The grand duchess’s heart beat strong. Lena followed Marie as she dashed down the hall, her gaze darting to and fro, as though someone would stop them at any moment.
“Neither the tsar nor the empress will care the child is a girl,” Lena said, still dazed. “I don’t understand why this is necessary.”
“Greater forces are in play here. My son’s advisors. The family. Kyril and his shameful lover. Getting rid of Nicky and Alix would put them so close to the throne. A fifth daughter gives them an excuse.”
“No one would stand for it.”
“If Alix hadn’t been so foolish in court, then perhaps that would be so,” Marie said dryly. “As matters stand, she has few supporters. Other than you and that quack Vachot, she has no friends.”
Though adrenaline kept her blood pumping and her steps sure, Lena’s head spun. “What you said before in the nursery…”
“I had to get you out of there. Kyril and that brittle woman he keeps are already asking questions. They’ve paid off some of the servants for information. I hadn’t time to check the nursery for spies. I wasn’t sure I could speak freely. I needed to make them think you were delusional.”
Lena remembered what Masha had told her, the gossip about plans to unseat the empress. Of course Masha had assumed Marie was behind it all.
“I’ve made it known there was a stillbirth, and we’re still determining how best to tell Alix. And I wanted anyone listening to think you’d gone mad and couldn’t accept the child’s death.”
“Who did you think was listening?” Lena paused. “Ducky?”
“Ducky’s a shrewd bird, I’ll give her that. Nicky is blocking her marriage to Kyril because of Alix. The best way to get rid of Nicky is to get rid of Alix. Then they’re free to marry and Kyril has a clearer shot to the throne. They win on two counts.” Deftly Marie maneuvered Lena past empty parlors and servants’ quarters. “They’ve been plotting. I assigned the guard Pavel to listen. He overheard them in Saint Petersburg, before they left to come here. The fools assumed he couldn’t understand English.”
“But he speaks fluent English.”
Marie gave her a sideways glance. “I know. That’s why he had the assignment.”
Lena nodded, probably too quickly. Hearing Pavel’s name gave her a twinge of regret. She was leaving someone behind after all. Lena looked down at her feet as they pressed forward. “What did they say?”
“They wish to prove Alexandra unfit. Another daughter gives them an excuse.”
“Surely Kyril and Ducky aren’t so powerful,” Lena said.
“Not alone,” Marie replied. “But the ministers and other members of the family are frustrated as well. If Alix left, they’d be rid of my son. He would never willingly divorce her. He’d sooner abdicate.” Marie pursed her lips. “I will not let that happen.”
Lena pulled the baby closer, already feeling the weight of her responsibility. “What about Monsieur Vachot? Can you trust him?”
Marie snorted. “The good doctor is so far in debt he will do whatever I ask. As long as the money keeps flowing in his direction. He’ll return to France and stay there.”
“And what should I do?” Lena asked.
“You will take the grand duchess to a ferry. One of my men will escort you to Copenhagen. That’s where I grew up.” Wistfulness misted her eyes. Lena caught a glimpse of Marie as a young girl, strolling the seaside without a care.
“It’s all been arranged,” Marie added briskly. “You will take her to a young couple who work for my family. I’ve even given them a name for her, a good Danish name, after my own grandmother, Charlotte of Denmark. It was the name of my husband’s grandmother as well, Charlotte of Prussia. I believe it will suit her well.”
Grand Duchess Charlotte. “What will you tell the empress?”
The reverie playing on Marie’s features passed. Now her little face appeared pinched. “I’ll tell her she suffered a stillbirth. The doctors will confirm. But we’ll issue an official statement saying it was a false pregnancy. Better that than news of a failure.”
Lena bit her lip. It was such a cruel thing to do to a mother. “Can’t you tell her?”
“The country needs an heir. She can’t get depressed. She must keep trying.”
“But when everything is more settled. After she’s had a son.”
Marie sighed. “I know what you must think of me. I’ve thought all the same things myself. But I believe if Alix had to choose between another daughter and Nicky’s security, my Nicky would win the battle. I’m saving Alix the pain.”
Deep down, Lena suspected this was true. “She’ll have a boy soon.”
“I hope you’re right.”
/>
They burst through the back doors and into the bright and windy morning, making their way through the gardens and down a flight of marble steps. Lena shifted the grand duchess to one arm and lifted her hand to her forehead to shield her eyes from the sun’s early glare.
“I can’t let you take a car, it would attract too much attention,” Marie told her. “One of the hansoms will have to do.”
Lena followed Marie to an unmarked coach, its curtains drawn. The driver’s velvet cap was pulled so low Lena couldn’t see his eyes. The carriage may have been ordinary enough, but the horse up front was a jet-black gelding that looked like he came directly from the imperial stables. His front hoof pawed the ground impatiently, kicking up a puff of dirt.
The wind whipped her hair into her face, nearly blinding her. The driver helped Lena with the baby, shifting her to Marie’s arms. Lena accepted the driver’s gloved hand and hopped into the back of the coach. Inside, it smelled of oil and fresh leather.
She reached again for the baby. For an instant, she saw Marie’s lips curl into a frown. She wasn’t certain Marie would release the child, but the dowager empress thrust the baby back into Lena’s arms.
“Wait!” Marie tapped the driver’s shoulder so he wouldn’t shut the door. “I found this in one of Olga’s albums.” She pulled a folded paper out of her pocket. It was a photograph of Lena with Alexandra taken last winter, after the tsar had requested a picture of the empress with her new favorite.
“You should have it.” Marie placed the photo flat on the seat next to Lena.
“My brother…”
“As long as you say nothing, your brother is safe. You have my word.”
The morning sunlight dimpled the flowers and grass and the fluttering leaves of the birch trees. Lena wished she could stay longer and memorize every detail. This would be the last time she ever saw the palace and the gardens.
“My man will care for you as long as you need. I’ve given him plenty of money as well. He’ll set you up in a shop or something similarly suitable.” Marie hesitated. “What will you do then? Will you continue to work or will you look for a husband?”
The thought made Lena’s heart jump like a startled rabbit. But she had started from scratch before, when she left Archangel to seek employment at the palace. “I’ll think of something.”
“I’m sure you will. You’ve coped with worse.” Marie hesitated again. “I can’t leave her without at least a token of her birthright.” Marie’s eyes suddenly brightened. She reached around her neck and tugged on a clasp. She removed her necklace and pressed the cool metal in Lena’s free hand. Lena gazed at the silver cross with three bars, the third bar slanting downward.
“She should have some relic of her family,” Marie said, “even if she can’t know them. Give it to my people. They’ll let her have it when she’s old enough.”
Lena nodded. Marie seemed to age before her eyes. Her dark hair wilted and her delicate features scrunched. Even her erect shoulders fell. She no longer looked like the Dowager Empress of all the Russias, the pretty and vivacious woman so full of life, but like any other brokenhearted grandmother.
“Now off with you,” Marie said.
The driver shut the door. Marie tapped the carriage before stepping away. They shot off and Lena was forced back against the warm leather seat. She only had time to look briefly at the dowager through the back window. As they retreated, Marie’s determined figure grew smaller and somehow less substantial, the train of her dress flapping in the harsh summer wind.
SAINTE-FOY-LE-GRANDE
OCTOBER 1941
They were nearing her parents’ house. Charlotte could tell from the dark stillness of the country roads, empty barns, and rows of stripped wooden crosses that should have been entangled with gnarly grapevines. Even the low hills in the distance seemed devoid of life. The stillness had always bothered her. This evening, she felt like she’d been stuffed prematurely into a coffin.
She heard a shallow snore and peeked behind her. Laurent had moved into the backseat and fallen into blissful sleep, his head in his father’s lap. Luc stared blankly out the window. His leg had stopped bleeding, but his lips were an alarming shade of gray. And a strange calm settled his features, different than what she’d seen before in the cellar, as though all the fight in him was gone.
As she turned back to face the road, she tried to keep her voice strong. “We’re almost there.”
When she glanced in the rearview mirror, she saw Luc close his eyes.
“Don’t do that.” She reached behind her to shake his knee and then stopped abruptly. She shouldn’t risk further damage to his leg. “Don’t fall asleep.”
Charlotte grappled in the dark for the handle and rolled down the window. Cold air and the sharp odor of fields flooded the car. She hoped it was enough to keep Luc awake.
In the speckled provincial darkness, Charlotte distinguished the three bright stars of Orion’s belt, and then the great hunter himself hovering in the horizon. As a little girl, she would go out at night with her father and throw her head back to watch the night sky. The rest of the countryside was too still for her taste, but the sky always struck her as full of life. Her father would take her small hand in his, point out and name the constellations, and tell her the myths that explained their names. Her mother would then come outside with a mug of hot chocolate and chide him for keeping her out so long in the cold. But she never insisted they come back in.
She wanted to hear her father’s gruff voice. She wanted him to take Laurent outside and discuss the constellations. She wanted to share the stories with him over hot chocolate.
“Mama will care for your leg,” Charlotte told Luc. The sound of her voice broke the stillness at least. She turned off the main road and onto the dirt tracks that led to her parents’ house. “Then we’ll get rid of this car.”
Luc nodded miserably. Charlotte spotted the plain, sturdy form of her parents’ two-story farmhouse at the end of the narrow road. She stuck her head out the window, oblivious to the cold. Normally when she approached home she could smell her mother’s bread baking. Not this evening. Dogs kept in a nearby barn barked and howled as they drove past. She waited to hear her father’s retrievers respond in kind, and her father telling them to hush. But she heard only crickets.
She slammed on the brakes and yanked the key out of the ignition.
“What is it?” Luc said.
“I’m too late,” Charlotte muttered. “I’m too late.”
She bolted out of the car and ran toward the house, making out its simple silhouette even in the darkness. Overgrowth from trees and bushes obscured her mother’s carefully tended flower beds and she tripped on a stray branch. Charlotte righted herself and ran up the steps to the front door. By now, the retrievers should have been barking and pawing at the door to greet her.
The door was unlocked. Charlotte burst inside, shouting for her parents in the dark. She felt her way around the walls to the main kitchen window and tugged on the cords and sashes. Light from the moon and stars spilled into the room. A fresh white cloth covered the kitchen table. The lacy curtains on the window were drawn. Everything looked tidy, as though they had only gone out for the evening. But Charlotte knew her parents were far too cautious to leave the door unlocked. Even in the safety of the countryside, even with the dogs, they bolted and latched the locks religiously each night.
Outside, the car door slammed. She peered out the window and watched Luc try to gather Laurent in his arms. He stumbled on his bad leg and fell back against the car. Charlotte ran back out. She took his hand and helped him upright, but he looked ready to crumple to the ground again at any moment.
“Your parents aren’t home?” Luc said softly.
“No.” She looked at the left side of the house, by the dog runs, where her father usually parked his battered red pickup truck. It wasn’t there either.
“If your parents aren’t here, we should turn around,” he said. “It could be a trap.”
>
Luc was right. Still, Charlotte couldn’t leave without trying to determine what had happened. “Stay here,” she said quietly. “I’ll look around the house before you come inside. If it’s all clear, I’ll tell you. If not I’ll scream. Then you take Laurent and go somewhere safe.”
Luc opened his mouth, but lacked the strength to protest. He sat down once more in the backseat next to Laurent and gave a nod. Charlotte ran back to the house.
Once inside, she wandered back and forth between the living room and the kitchen, fiddling with the cross on the chain around her neck, making little kicks with her feet, perfect jetés. Perhaps her parents had been tipped off that soldiers were coming after them and had left.
She collapsed on the worn love seat in the living room and pulled one of her mother’s quilts close. She breathed in her mother’s clean domestic scent, a mixture of baking powder and the earthy scent of gardening. Charlotte put her head in her hands.
She couldn’t get past that unlocked door. Even if her parents had left quickly, they would have locked it. If soldiers had come and forced them out, she would have seen more signs of a struggle.
Charlotte sat up straight and stared at the coat hooks by the front door. Her father kept leashes there for the retrievers, to use when he decided to take them into town with him. The leashes were gone. That meant her parents had left of their own volition. The dogs were with them. They’d left the door unlocked because they expected Charlotte and Laurent to come. Her parents must have left a message somewhere.
The safe.
Charlotte sprang to her feet and went out to tell Luc. He’d left the car door open for her and was shivering in the cold night air, Laurent cuddled at his side. When Luc looked up at her, his eyes betrayed the pain in his leg. She forced a smile.
“It’s all right. I don’t think the soldiers came here. There’s a safe in the kitchen. Maybe my parents left something for me.” She looked down at the dark blood still staining Luc’s trousers. “And we need to tend to your leg. I don’t think we have much choice but to stay here for a while.”
The Secret Daughter of the Tsar Page 23