The Midwife of St. Petersburg

by Linda Lee Chaikin

  Alex was sure he’d seen old Konni’s lip twitch with secret amusement.

  Konni disappeared into the other room, and Alex leaned his head back against the chair and shut his eyes, hoping to sleep for an hour before going downstairs.

  His plans for the future were too important to let slip from his grasp. If he must change them at all, he would do so only if he knew the military would not reward him with the future he wanted. In that situation, he might consider joining Michael in New York.

  He stretched like a lazy lynx. What was another beautiful young woman? Brunettes, blondes, redheads—what did it matter? There were many such women. Karena Peshkova was simply one more. Tatiana was enough for any man. After two weeks, the girl with the golden braids and red hat would be a vanishing memory. She would return to Kiev, he to St. Petersburg. The war would come, and this brief episode would fade, carried along with the winds of time.

  Alex drifted off sleep.

  The afternoon was filled with last-minute preparations. Karena enjoyed her soak in the tub, then arranged her long, fair hair into the latest fashion with assistance from the able hands of Madame Zofia’s personal maid. Having accomplished that intricate task, and well satisfied with the effect, Karena put on her modest peach and ivory dress with lace trim. This was her best evening dress, the one she wore to the opera in Kiev when Papa Josef took the family once a year to see Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake.

  As Karena stood for Natalia to button the clasp at the back of her neck, the bedroom door opened and Tatiana breezed in, smiling.

  “Silk stockings, darlings!” She dropped two new pairs on the large, satin-covered bed.

  “Ooh, delightful,” said Natalia, picking up a pair.

  Karena admired Tatiana’s gown. It was a splendid creation of wine and black velvet. Tatiana appeared aglow with satisfaction, convincing Karena that she had news.

  “He will be here tonight, after all. This was quite a feat on my part, I can tell you. I can hardly wait to introduce you to him.”

  Karena was so excited she hugged her cousin. “Tatiana, this is wonderful! I’ve talked briefly with him before, but I’m sure he’ll not remember me. I usually see him from afar.”

  “You’ve met him before? But when?” Tatiana asked, pulling away to stare at her.

  “In Kiev, when I’ve gone on medical errands.”

  “Oh, I see. Well, I suppose I should not be too surprised. By now, his reputation would have grown.” Tatiana glanced in the mirror and straightened the diamond brooch worn just below her shoulder. “The czarina adores him. The czar, too, for that matter. Everyone will hear how he’s come to my ball. They’ll be so envious. The news will burst like a firecracker all over St. Petersburg.”

  Karena looked up from smoothing a final wrinkle from her dress, confused. Is Dr. Zinnovy truly that influential?

  “It was the Crow sisters who introduced us. He’s the talk of society in St. Petersburg. Many there would die to have him at their parties, but I won out.”

  Karena realized her mistake. “Then you are not discussing Dr. Zinnovy.”

  “Zinnovy? Oh, you thought I meant the doctor.” Tatiana smiled. “No, of course not. I was speaking of the starets.”

  Karena’s enthusiasm melted, but she forced herself to look interested for the sake of her cousin.

  “Everyone in St. Petersburg is discussing Rasputin. It couldn’t be otherwise with the czarina relying on him. He’s graced of God.”

  Graced of God. The words caught Karena’s attention.

  “Not that I am his disciple yet, but Mother is beginning to take him seriously, thanks to the czarina’s good friend, Anna Vyrubova. Anna introduced the czarina to Rasputin. The Crow sisters are bringing him. They know everything there is about holy men. They are going to arrange a table talk tonight.”

  Karena wrinkled her nose. “Whatever is a table talk? A religious study of some sort?”

  “I don’t know exactly. As I say, I’m just learning. But the Crow sisters are experts at this sort of thing. They’ve been traveling with Rasputin on some of his pilgrimages. You know—cooking, washing him—”

  “Washing him?”

  Tatiana shrugged and smoothed her hair before the gilded mirror. “I don’t know what that means, but it’s all holy, you can be sure. Anna Vyrubova can tell us everything we want to know. Anna is Rasputin’s main disciple. She saw Rasputin heal the czarina’s son. Think of it.” She turned to Karena, a spark of shrewdness in her dark eyes. “The little czarevitch, Alexei, has a blood disease, you know. A bleeder, they say.”

  “A hemophiliac, you mean,” Karena said. She’d spent many hours studying her mother’s medical textbooks. Madame Yeva had attended the Imperial College of Medicine and Midwifery in St. Petersburg. Karena had already decided that once she’d gained her legal certificate in midwifery, she would seek as much information as she could on various diseases and their cures. If little else, she could keep a journal of all she learned and use it among the peasants in her village.

  “Imagine,” Tatiana said, “actually healing poor little Alexei. Yet Rasputin already has enemies at court. There are some in the Duma trying to convince Czar Nicholas to send him back to his village of Pokrovskoe. The czarina will never allow that to happen. If anyone wishes to be included in her inner circle, they’d best embrace Rasputin or expect to make themselves enemies of the Romanovs. I, for one, will embrace him.”

  So that was their motive for arranging Rasputin’s reception tonight. News of the Roskov family receiving him as their honored guest would find its way into the private chambers of the czarina. But what did Madame Zofia and Tatiana expect to gain from the czarina’s favor?

  “Who would have ever thought Siberia would give the Romanov family and holy Russia such a gift from God as Rasputin?” Tatiana asked, her eyes meeting Karena’s in the mirror.

  Karena looked at her, troubled and uncertain. “Do you really believe that?”

  “Of course. Why not? Anna is a witness. She was there in the czarevitch’s bedroom when Rasputin healed him.”

  Karena wished to avoid controversy as much as possible—after all, she was here as a guest. She was also aware that she didn’t know enough about the Bible to be able to refute such a belief. “If it’s true, then it would be most thought provoking,” she finally said. “However, Sergei says—”

  “Sergei says, Sergei says.” Tatiana’s eyes flashed with quick temper. “Your brother is a cynic. A Bolshevik, as well. Oh yes, he is—don’t protest. You’re always defending him. He’ll end up in the Siberian mines someday soon if he doesn’t keep a civil tongue about the czarina. That street disturbance in St. Petersburg would’ve brought about his arrest if my parents hadn’t intervened with the czar. There Sergei was, shouting on the street with the revolutionaries supporting the factory workers’ walkout.”

  “But he’s not a Bolshevik,” Karena said firmly. “He became involved by accident.”

  “He is a revolutionary. He was expelled from the university and sent home last month.”

  Karena was surprised. “How did you know? Papa Josef tried to keep it quiet.”

  “You forget my father is a general in the Okhrana. The czar’s secret police know everything. With all the assassination attempts on Czar Nicholas, they must stay vigilant.”

  While Tatiana’s father was in the Okhrana, she had no right to private information. Karena only knew about Sergei because he had confided in her about the trouble he was in with Papa Josef. How had Tatiana heard? Surely Uncle Viktor would not discuss his highly secretive work at the dinner table with two women as talkative as his wife and daughter.

  Tatiana’s mouth turned. “No, I didn’t snoop in my father’s records, though that would be easy. He brings home files. Especially anything to do with friends and family. He wishes to protect us all, you see. No, it was Alex who asked me about Sergei. He was riding with the Cossacks at the time. They’d been sent in to break up the demonstration. He saw Sergei there and mentioned it to me
just this afternoon.”

  Karena remembered Kronstadt was now in the Okhrana. “Why is he inquiring about Sergei?” she asked cautiously. Sergei’s part in the factory demonstration posed no threat to anyone. He’d even been permitted reentry into the university this September.

  Tatiana gave her a once-over. “He wanted to know if you shared your brother’s interest in the Bolshevik Party.”

  “Sergei is highly opinionated about everything, and the gathering lured him. He was punished, and it’s over now. And you know very well I have no interest in either Marx or Lenin.”

  Tatiana smiled. “Of course I do. Let’s not discuss it anymore. Come. It’s time we went down. Where’s Natalia?”

  “Coming,” Natalia called from her bedroom. She hurried out a moment later holding a pendant on her palm, her face flushed pink with exasperation and excitement.

  “I can’t close the clasp.”

  “Here, let me.” Tatiana reached for the pendant. There was a flash of red and white, and Tatiana’s breath caught. Karena stared at the glimmering jewels, an unusual ruby and diamond pendant in the form of a tulip, an emerald at the stem.

  “It’s stunning.,” Tatiana breathed, transfixed.

  Karena looked sharply at her sister. “Natalia! That belongs to Mother. It was her aunt’s from Finland. She didn’t allow you to take it, did she? Why, I’ve only been permitted to see it once.”

  Natalia lowered her eyes, her cheeks crimson. “It’s kept in the safe. I borrowed it. Don’t worry so, I’ll return it. Stop looking at me like that, Karena.”

  Karena couldn’t help herself. “Mother doesn’t know you borrowed it?”

  “No. She wouldn’t have let me take it, and you know it.”

  “Natalia,” Karena began, then lapsed into silence. She didn’t want to embarrass her sister before Tatiana any more than she already had.

  “I wanted to wear something grand tonight,” Natalia said defensively. “Just look at Tatiana. Do you wonder why I borrowed it?”

  Tatiana fingered her diamonds. “Mine are nothing compared to that pendant. It must be worth a fortune. How shocking that Aunt Yeva would have such a pendant all these years and never mention it. Why, if I owned that, I’d show it to everyone just to see their eyes pop.”

  Karena opened her mouth to defend her mother but hesitated. The pendant would have paid for a dozen years in the best medical school in Europe and then some.

  “I had completely forgotten about the pendant,” she admitted instead. “How did you get it from the safe?”

  Natalia sank onto the edge of the bed. “I’ve seen where she and Papa keep the key. I knew neither of them would miss it. They so seldom take it out and look at it.”

  Tatiana still held the pendant. Karena frowned and reached to take it from her palm, but Tatiana danced away, laughing.

  “Natalia can’t wear it tonight,” Karena said. “It would turn into a scandal.”

  “Scandal?” Tatiana’s dark brows rose.

  “You know what I mean. Everyone will notice, and Aunt Zofia will write Mother and want to know all about it.”

  Natalia jumped to her feet. “Nonsense! Mother won’t be half as indignant as you are. I want to wear it.”

  Tatiana held the pendant against her throat, her eyes glowing.

  Karena gave Natalia a meaningful stare. Natalia glanced uneasily at Tatiana admiring herself in the mirror, bit her lip, and silently mouthed, I’m sorry.

  Too late, Karena mouthed back.

  Natalia winced and walked to where Tatiana stood before the full-length mirror. “I’d better put it back. I shouldn’t have brought it in the first place.” She held out her hand.

  “Oh, don’t be a goose,” Tatiana said. “No one will suspect you stole it from your parents’ safe. But it doesn’t go with your green gown. In fact, it would look hideous. Here, take my diamonds, and I’ll wear the pendant.”

  “Tatiana, I can’t allow—”

  But Tatiana had already removed her diamonds and dropped them in Natalia’s palm. She placed the pendant around her own neck, and with practiced skill, she snapped the clasp. She laughed and danced about the room, avoiding Natalia, who begged for the pendant back.

  “Of course, I’ll return it,” she said in response to Natalia’s pleas. “After the ball. Odd, though … I’m certain I’ve seen it before. No, it was a pair of earrings and a matching bracelet of the same design. They belonged to Countess Katya Zinnovy—oh!”

  She turned, hands clasped at her heart, and looked at Karena. Karena knew her anger at Tatiana’s outrageous behavior must be visible, but Tatiana seemed oblivious.

  “I forgot to tell you the sad news. Dr. Zinnovy was called away tonight on urgent business. His wife, Katya, is ill again. He’s rushed back to St. Petersburg to be with her. Oh, Karena, I’m so sorry. But his son is here. You can meet Fyodor Zinnovy.”

  Natalia marched up to Tatiana, throwing her shoulders back. “Here are your diamonds. Return the pendant, please, or I shall never hear the end of it.”

  “You won’t let me wear it?”

  “I’d better not, Tatiana.”

  “Oh, very well. Here—” She unclasped the chain and handed Natalia the pendant, then took her own diamonds to the mirror.

  While Natalia returned the pendant to its box, Karena’s thoughts focused on her disappointment over Dr. Zinnovy’s cancellation. Fate seemed determined to thwart her. Would she ever achieve her dream?

  THREE

  Stolen Hearts

  Karena and Natalia followed Tatiana down the hallway until they came to the lighted stairway. Tatiana paused on the brightly lit landing until many eyes were turned her way, then descended slowly for effect.

  Karena and Natalia followed two steps behind.

  “I feel like the princess’s bridesmaid,” Natalia whispered. Karena tried not to laugh.

  The crystal chandelier above them sparkled, pouring forth light. The polished floor gleamed, leading to an archway that opened into the ballroom. The orchestra began to play prelude music for dinner. Karena scanned the hallway.

  A group of gentlemen gathered at the bottom of the stairs. Karena recognized the figure in military uniform at once as Colonel Aleksandr Kronstadt. Two men were with him, presumably to escort her and Natalia to dinner. She thought one of them was Dr. Zinnovy’s son Fyodor. Despite her interest in the Zinnovys, Karena glanced at Colonel Kronstadt. His intense, green-gray gaze met hers.

  She immediately looked away. Tatiana must surely have noticed.

  Tatiana made the introductions. “Karena, this is Dr. Zinnovy’s son, Fyodor. And Natalia, this is Count Philipov’s son, Misha. Gentlemen, may I present my cousins, Karena and Natalia Peshkova.”

  Karena turned her attention to the young man bowing to her, his soft chin pulled into his wide neck. His soft blue eyes looked sleepy. He seemed nothing like his father. Perhaps he takes after his mother, she thought, though she’d never seen her.

  “I am sorry to hear of Countess Zinnovy’s illness,” Karena said. “I hope it isn’t serious.”

  “The countess is often ailing. It’s one of the reasons I’m studying medicine.”

  Her interest was snagged immediately. “I’ve admired your father’s work from afar. I can see why you wish to follow in his steps.”

  A momentary silence followed. Fyodor’s cheeks turned a ruddy color, and Karena realized she’d made a blunder. His mouth tightened, reminding her of King Henry VIII in a painting she’d seen of the English monarch.

  “Everyone,” Fyodor said stiffly, “admires my father.”

  Karena was at a loss over how to respond. She glanced at Tatiana for help, but her cousin remained silent.

  “And how are your studies in St. Petersburg progressing?” Alex asked him, his tone nonchalant.

  Karena breathed easier, attention having shifted away from her.

  “If the staff knew what they were doing, my studies would be going exceptionally well. But there is bickering, jealousy, and prid
e among the doctors on the teaching faculty.”

  “Oh? How unfortunate.”

  Karena glanced at Kronstadt and was sure he was merely pretending interest with Fyodor who continued to explain that his struggle with grades was due to problems with the professors.

  “If my father was not director, I’d transfer immediately to the Imperial College of Medicine and Midwifery in Moscow.”

  Natalia spoke up. “Midwifery is my sister Karena’s specialty.”

  Fyodor looked at her with forgiven interest. Karena sensed Alex was watching her as well.

  “Is that so, Miss Peshkova?” Fyodor asked politely. “Well, Moscow and St. Petersburg both have the finest training in Russia. Which school will you be attending?”

  “I’m hoping to enter St. Petersburg’s in September. This is my third attempt. The quota for new students was full last year and the year before. I’d hoped Dr. Zinnovy would be here tonight. I was going to ask about prospects. Not that he’d know my personal status, of course—but he’d know how crowded the new term looked.”

  “Why, I’d hardly expect enrollment to be overcrowded,” Fyodor said. “I’m sure you’ll be accepted.”

  “Well, it’s not so simple, I’m afraid. There’s only a two percent opportunity allotted to openings for—for certain people.”

  An awkward silence followed. Karena wished she hadn’t been so open.

  “Oh, I see,” Fyodor said. “Yes, yes, there is that law, isn’t there.”

  “You’re Jewish, Miss Peshkova?”

  The question came from Colonel Kronstadt. She turned toward him, wondering what she’d see in his gaze.

  “My mother is Jewish,” she explained, perhaps a little too defensively, feeling embarrassed with all eyes turned upon her.

  She could read little in his gaze except a thoughtful consideration that told her nothing of his feelings.

  “Poland?” he asked.

  “Finland. But I’ve an uncle from Poland. He once taught history at Warsaw University until—” She caught herself before explaining further. It would be an error to mention Uncle Matvey had once been arrested for his politics.