‘Ridiculous,’ said Granville. ‘Just like Sir John. That’s to be taken care of. The Tsar himself was asked to have you presented. He says he can’t go on for ever gossiping with you on the quay.’
‘Very civil and agreeable he’s been,’ said Glynde. ‘It’s amazing how freely he walks about the city.’
‘And a great headache for his ministers. There’s no end to the tales one hears – in strictest confidence, of course – of the trouble they have making good after one of his quixotic gestures. He loves to grant people’s wishes; promise them what they want. Someone else has to make it possible. Or explain to them that it’s not. And now, he wants you two gentlemen to be made officially known to him.’
‘All that kissing of hands and standing in line,’ said Jan, surprising them. ‘I’m sorry, Granville, but not I. You go, Glynde, if you’ve a mind to, but it’s not my line at all.’
And from this stand he would not budge. ‘No. I’m a free-born American. I like the Tsar; I enjoy talking to him when we meet on the quay. He asks very interesting questions. But treat him as if he were God walking on earth I cannot and I will not.’ Urged once again by Glynde, he rounded on him. ‘Look, friend, why do you think we Americans fought and beat you twenty-five years ago? It was for just this kind of freedom, and I’m not going back on it now.’
It might not be reasonable, but it was final, and, in the end, the impasse was broken by the intervention of the Tsar himself.
‘We’re to meet him and Czartoryski “by accident” in the summer gardens,’ Granville told Glynde. ‘Do you think you can manage that?’
‘Oh, I should think so,’ Glynde laughed. ‘I begin to think you want our company quite badly on this western journey.’
‘Frankly, I do. And for two reasons, closely connected. I like Adam Czartoryski immensely; he’s a man it’s a pleasure to work with, but he is also the servant of an autocrat of the most unpredictable kind. I’ve tried to learn Polish; it’s no use; I need you as an interpreter, Jan. I need to know what the Poles really think, not have their views filtered through a Russian’s incomprehensible mind. Even in all innocence, Adam could so easily mistranslate them.’
‘Yes, I can see that. Though mind you, all the Polish aristocrats speak French, and a great many of them English as well.’
‘But what about the serfs? They are the cannon fodder, after all. And the middle class, what there is of it. It is always the lower classes war hits hardest.’
‘You speak as if war were certain.’
‘Oh, I think it is. It’s just a question of where and when it starts. It may be just as well that Jan has made an informal presentation to the Tsar the only way. There might not be time for anything else.’
‘You leave so soon?’
‘As soon as possible. The Tsar wishes to sound out feeling in what used to be Poland, both Austrian and Russian. And maybe even Prussian too. He’s planning to go and stay with Adam’s family at Pulawy, in the Austrian zone, and, entirely between ourselves, I rather think he means to make one of his “surprise” visits to Rendomierz while he is there. He’s certainly brushing up his Polish. You can see why I need you and Jan. You will come, the two of you?’
‘Oh, I think so.’ Did he long, or dread to visit Rendomierz again? He was not sure, but he knew, given the chance, that he must go. He must see both Isobel and the child. His child?
Jan, too, agreed at once. George Richards would look after his business interests, he said, while he joined this irresistible expedition. ‘It will be good to see Rendomierz again.’ Besides, now that they had had their formally accidental introduction to the Tsar, they were being plagued with invitations. ‘It’s as if we had been invisible before! I don’t know about you, but I’ll be glad to get away. Are we going to this solemn “Te Deum” in the cathedral?’
‘I think we should. The Tsar will expect it. And whatever one’s beliefs, it should be an interesting spectacle.’
‘All that incense! And nowhere to sit down.’
The Tsar left Petersburg the day after the service to join one of the two Russian armies already deployed in the west of the country. Led by the old General Kutusov who had been so surprisingly successful in Turkey, it was to join the Austrians against Napoleon in the south, while the other one, further north, was poised to invade Prussia if its King refused to cooperate.
‘The trouble there is,’ Granville had dropped in to see his friends on the night of the ‘Te Deum’, ‘that the Tsar has one of his friendly passions for Queen Louise of Prussia. She’s a great charmer, and Alexander has been her faithful servant since they first met; will do anything to avoid injuring her. Poor Adam’s on tenterhooks! Every hope for the rebirth of Poland lies in the Russians invading the Polish lands the Prussians hold. He is sure that would mean a mass uprising of Polish serfs, who hate their Prussian masters much more bitterly than the other occupied Poles do their Austrian and Russian ones. A successful nationalist rising there might be a real beginning for a new Kingdom of Poland.’
‘It’s a strange position, Czartoryski’s,’ said Glynde. ‘Foreign Minister to the Tsar, and yet hoping for Poland’s freedom from Russia.’
‘It certainly is. Risky, too. When he urged, at dinner the other night, that Alexander take Warsaw and Poznan from Prussia and reconstitute the Kingdom of Poland, Prince Peter Dolgoruky turned on him: “You speak like a Polish Prince, and I speak like a Russian Prince.” The Tsar said nothing, but Adam turned white as a sheet. I think his position hangs on a hair. Anything could happen. It’s absolutely maddening that I cannot come with you tomorrow, but I must wait for the courier from England. I’ll catch you up in a day or so, I am sure; he is overdue already. But if anything should detain me, I count on you for every detail of what happens when the Tsar visits Pulawy.’
‘And Rendomierz?’ asked Glynde. ‘Is the “surprise” visit still in the programme?’
‘Oh, I think so. Ovinski goes with the Tsar, and I am sure he will urge him to visit Rendomierz as well as his own estates further north, near Vilno. Did you remember to ask Mrs. Richards to warn Jenny Peverel?’ He turned to Jan with the question.
‘Of course. Though I still think it hardly necessary since the Prince must have written to the Princess.’
‘A message from Them.’ Olga had cut across the pleasure gardens one fine September morning to join Jenny and Prince Casimir, who were feeding stale bread to the golden carp in the lily pond. The serf who always attended the little Prince when he was outside the palace was standing, arms folded, some little distance off, watching the scene with a benevolent eye.
‘Yes? Careful, Casimir, don’t throw yourself in too.’ Jenny managed a casual note as she half turned to Olga, still keeping a firm hand on the little Prince’s loose blouse.
‘You’re to tell the Princess. The Tsar is coming to Pulawy on his way to the war. He plans to surprise her with a visit.’
‘The Tsar? Coming here?’
‘Yes. He is to be made welcome, they say.’
‘That’s all?’
‘Isn’t that enough? The tyrant! Coming here. And to be made welcome!’
‘Olga’s cross? What’s the matter?’ The little Prince, who seemed not to like Olga, asked the question of Jenny.
‘Nothing’s the matter with me, Highness.’ Olga made a deep, half-mocking curtsey to the little boy, and left them.
‘I don’t like it,’ said Jenny, reporting the scene to the Princess that evening. ‘I’m sure she knows something more, something that pleases her and would not please us.’
The Prince’s messenger arrived a few days later, bringing the same news. ‘It’s all very well,’ said the Princess, reading her husband’s letter, ‘but I don’t quite see how we contrive to be surprised by the visit, and at the same time have the state apartments swept and garnished, and a crowd of guests here to greet the Tsar. All by accident!’
‘Well,’ said Jenny. ‘They could be here to greet the Prince perhaps? You are surely allowed to be expect
ing him?’
‘You’re right. Stupid of me. It’s … unsettling.’
The Prince arrived a week later and acted as if he had only been away for a few days, taking up life in the palace exactly where he had left off, behaving with his usual impeccable courtesy, and approving all the arrangements his wife had made for the Tsar’s impromptu visit. If the fine September weather held, he was to find his hosts entertaining their friends with a display in the famous Rendomierz water gardens. Workmen were busy checking the elaborate mechanism of the fountains which had not been used since the wedding three years before.
‘It must all go like clockwork.’ The Prince and Princess had joined Jenny by the big fountain of the Three Graces, and he spoke to them both. ‘Czartoryski and I want the Tsar to feel adored and welcomed here in Poland, to understand what an asset we Poles can be in the coming war against Napoleon. He may even have been moved to declare an independent kingdom of Poland at Pulawy, before he comes here, but if not, perhaps Rendomierz will have the honour to be the scene of the declaration.’
‘And who is to be king of this independent kingdom?’ Princess Isobel gave him a very straight look.
‘Oh, the Tsar himself, for the moment. Czartoryski and I are agreed on that. It’s the only way. I imagine Czartoryski thinks the arrangement will be permanent, but he’s been away from Poland too long; he does not understand. The Tsar is a man of high ideals … and … persuadable. I think the sight of you and our little Prince may do what a thousand arguments could not. If not now, then later, after we have given him loyal support in the fighting.’
‘I see.’ But Jenny did not think the Princess quite liked what she saw. It was maddening that the arrival of the Prince had put an end to their close, daily communication She should have foreseen this, but had not quite realised how her relationship with Princess Isobel had changed during the Prince’s absence. Now, badly wanting a chance to talk to her about Olga, she never managed to see her alone. The Prince and Princess’s apartments adjoined each other; the communicating door had been unbolted when he arrived. In his absence, she had joined the Princess while her maid was brushing her hair and getting her ready for bed. It had been their chance to talk over the happenings of the day, free from the Princess’s observant crowd of hangers-on. Now, Prince and Princess retired together. It was as if a stage curtain had fallen between her and them, and she could only wonder what went on behind it, and be angry with herself for doing so.
The great day dawned fine and bright; many of the guests had arrived the night before, but more kept driving up all morning, and by midday the gardens were crowded with people, many of whom Jenny had not met since the wedding three years before. In theory, they only knew that they were come to welcome the Prince back, but a feeling of tense expectation in the air made her wonder just how open a secret the surprise visit really was. Liveried servants were circulating among the crowd now, pouring vodka for the first toast of the day. Nobody had moved yet to help themselves from the lavish collation of cold meat and smoked fish set out on tables on the main lawn. Everyone seemed suspended, waiting …
‘Jenny!’ Prince Casimir tugged at her hand. ‘I have to go!’
‘Oh, no, Casimir!’ A stir among the crowd, the far-off sound of carriages told her that the surprise guest was arriving at last.
‘I’ll take him!’ Olga appeared at her elbow. ‘I don’t want to see that man!’
‘Oh, thank you!’ In her relief, because the Prince had made a point of her being there to join in the welcome of the Tsar, she let Olga take Casimir’s hand and lead him away. Only afterwards, too late, did she remember how Olga had gone around, the last few days, looking as if she was enjoying some secret joke.
No time for that now. A procession of carriages swept round the last curve of the drive. The crowd was suspended, hushed as she moved swiftly to join the Prince and Princess near the flight of marble steps that led down from the carriage sweep to the first of the lawns.
Whips cracked, postilions shouted, the first carriage stopped at the top of the steps and a lithe young figure jumped down as the doors opened, sunlight gleaming on golden curls. ‘My dear friend,’ he paused for a moment at the top of the steps, smiling down at the Prince and Princess, ‘I am come to beard you in your country den, and make the acquaintance of your Princess.’ He was down the steps while they were still in full bow and curtsey. ‘You never told me how beautiful she was!’ He bent to raise the Princess and plant a fraternal kiss on her cheek. ‘I am delighted to find you at home, ma’am, and among your friends – and mine, I hope.’ This, louder, as he turned to greet the reverently silent crowd.
Is he going to make a speech? Jenny thought, appalled. How can he, here on Austrian soil? But the next carriage had drawn up behind the Tsar’s, which she saw with amusement was merely an open calash, nothing like so impressive as the Prince’s. The Tsar turned back. ‘I have brought some old friends of yours to be my introduction, Princess.’ He had her by the hand and led her back to the bottom of the steps, the Prince following with a close eye on his wife, Jenny thought. The first man who alighted was a handsome stranger, but her heart gave a curious, uncomfortable jump – he was followed by Glynde Rendel and Jan Warrington. The Tsar was presenting all three of them. ‘My good friend and minister, Prince Czartoryski; Mr. Rendel, Mr. Warrington, both of whom you know.’
‘A delightful surprise, sire, as is this whole unexpected visit.’ The Princess’s colour was high. ‘Would you care to take a walk in our park? We were about to show our guests the water gardens for which Rendomierz is famous in a modest way.’
‘Famous indeed, and rightly so.’ He made it a personal compliment. ‘I long to see them.’ And then, an afterthought, ‘But where is the Prince, your son? I have heard fine things of him from his father, fortunate man, and looked forward to meeting him.’
‘Jenny?’ Princess Isobel turned to her with the question. And then, ‘Sire, may I present my friend and companion, Miss Peverel.’
‘An Englishwoman? One of my new allies!’ He had a great gift, Jenny thought, for making one feel the only important person, for the moment. Answering his kind questions about her family in England, she was intensely aware of Glynde, talking to the Princess. And at the same time, at the back of her mind, was a growing anxiety about Prince Casimir. He and Olga should be back by now.
But the little group was moving off towards the water gardens, the Tsar graciously acknowledging the salutations of the crowd as he went, bending his handsome head this way and that, pausing from time to time to greet an acquaintance like an old friend. He had given his arm to the Princess; the Prince was talking to dark-haired, handsome Prince Adam Czartoryski; inevitably Glynde and Jan were on either side of Jenny.
‘You really are a surprise,’ she said.
Glynde laughed. ‘I did think you seemed not entirely unprepared.’
‘No, they’ve been working on the water display like madmen all week. It’s not been used since the wedding; some of it not for longer than that. Dear God!’
‘What is it?’
‘I’ve remembered something! But it’s not possible. She couldn’t … They wouldn’t …’
‘Stop it!’ Glynde’s voice was sharp. ‘Pull yourself together, Miss Peverel, and tell us what it is you fear.’
He had stopped, turned to face her with the question. ‘No, we must keep up with them,’ she said breathlessly, ‘be ready to do something, God knows what. Do you remember the joke fountains?’ she asked. ‘The Princess’s father’s idea of humour; she never uses them. The statues in the long yew alley, between the Pool of the Graces and the ornamental water. Fountains come out of their mouths. The Prince used to have them switched on when a guest was halfway down the walk. Trapped by those thick hedges. Go on, or go back, he was soaked to the skin, a laughing-stock.’
‘You can’t think!’
‘Imagine what it would do to this visit, to us all! The Tsar would look a fool. He’d never forgive that. And, there’s wor
se. I think it may seem that Casimir did it. He might even have done so. He’s into everything. And, I saw him there with Olga, my maid, one day last week.’
‘Where is the water controlled from?’
‘The grotto at the top of that hill.’ She pointed. ‘It’s a long way.’
‘I’ll go,’ said Jan. ‘You do your best to detain the Tsar.’
‘How?’ Glynde and Jenny looked at each other. It is not easy to detain an absolute monarch. But the group ahead were pausing now to admire the Three Graces, who were pouring silver streams of water from their cornucopias on to a central female figure.
‘I have always thought my father intended it for Poland,’ the Princess was telling the Tsar as they caught up and mingled in the little group. Much too close together to chance any kind of warning.
‘You are sure he did not intend it for his daughter?’ asked the Tsar, smiling down at her as if she were the only woman in the world.
‘Oh, no, sire, I was a squalling infant then, a bitter disappointment to him: a girl.’
‘And now you are the mother of a Prince. But where is Prince Casimir?’
It was a chance, and Jenny took it. Colouring to the roots of her hair, intensely aware of the busybody she must seem, she took a step forward, made her deepest curtsey, and said, ‘I am beginning to wonder if he has not run away to play in the grotto.’
Dead silence for a moment, while the Tsar looked through her as if she was most absolutely not there, then turned to the Princess again. ‘I really sometimes believe that I suffer just a trifle from deafness. Shall we set forward down this handsome alley of yours? I have heard that the fountains at the bottom of it are the most beautiful of all.’ He offered his arm once more to the Princess.
But as the two Princes loomed forward at Jenny, as if to erase her from the Tsar’s sight, the quicker-witted Princess looked up at him appealingly. ‘Sire, forgive a mother’s anxiety for her only son. Casimir is not allowed in the grotto; it’s not safe for a child. Will one of you gentlemen very kindly go and look?’
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