Toward bedtime, she put away her sewing. Helena brought her a bowl of soup. Camille finished her meal and made ready for bed. Helena wished her a pleasant night and left.
The lamp was out, but the heavy curtains did not block out everything. Light seeped past the edges of the material. All was a study in gray. Camille sat on the edge of her bed, her feet in comfortable fur-lined slippers.
A longing for her husband to return caused tears to form in her eyes, Camille wanted to sleep next to him. Although inclined to changes in mood that defied prediction, she wanted to be close to him. He was her husband, and she loved him no matter what.
Camille decided. Dmitri was not to blame for the event which had taken place. Perhaps it was his Juneau woman. If that were the case, he could be an innocent dupe, passing on information, which another used against her. It was a well-known fact that men could be induced to tell a woman things in bed, they would never utter otherwise.
It must be the case. Camille determined to be more careful with the information she gave him. But, it would not hurt to let him know she was with child. Perhaps, the other woman would see the child's life was important to Dmitri and cease all efforts, until after the birth of the child.
She felt like a spinning top, threatening to fall to one side, then tilting to the other. Was he innocent? Was he guilty? If he was guilty, what offense could be laid at his door? That of having another woman? Yes. Of attempted murder? She hoped not, but could she be sure? And last, was he guilty of lying when he said he loved her?
How often had the sisters explained what a virtue patience was to their charges? Far more times than Camille could recall. She acknowledged the truth of the statement, yet found practice difficult. Now, she must curb her tendency to impatience, and her tendency to rush to judgment.
The baby alone would claim nine months of her time. If all remained calm while she carried the child, it could mean the individual who wished her ill, realized how the child strengthened her position. It was necessary for her marriage to become stabilized during the coming months. If Dmitri no longer expressed doubts about the future of their marriage, perhaps the threat would vanish. What would it prove? His innocence or his guilt?
Camille shook her head in wonder. One evening she had gone to sleep a widow. The next morning, she had awaked to find herself Dmitri's wife. Now, she was pregnant. Her fingertips brushed the silk of her nightgown as she lifted the covers and slid into bed. Life could demolish everything around a person without warning. There were no guarantees. Even wealth could vanish within a few days. One should take what existed at the moment and enjoy it as if it would be gone for good when evening came.
She snuggled into the warmth of the blankets, then pulled them over her head to create a warm little cave. As a child, she had often hidden herself this way. She had imagined herself a French princess or a pirate, hiding in the bayous, stealing from the treasure ships of the Spanish. Would her child play the same games? Had Dmitri entertained himself in the same fashion?
A boy, she wanted a son. She must go to Sitka and light candles in the church. This child must be a boy.
Dmitri returned home three weeks later. Camille was over her attacks of morning sickness, so bringing up the child was unnecessary. She could wait to pick the best time and place for the revelation.
As her husband appeared to be in a calmer frame of mind, Camille decided she did not want to disturb their shaky tranquility. A message arrived the day before his return, inviting them to visit a friend in Sitka. Camille wanted Dmitri to accept the invitation. There were several things she needed to do in the city.
Dmitri, however, was aloof and unapproachable. Camille could not determine if he intended to accept the invitation. He did not come to her during the night. In the morning, he went straight to the mill where he stayed until late in the day. Camille became more agitated as the day wore on.
The household staff felt the tension. Helena and Nita discussed matters in low voices as they prepared the evening meal. They were at a loss to understand any of it. Dmitri had been an even tempered man until his remarriage. Camille was an unknown quantity. However, the girl did not appear to be a harridan. Why on earth was the couple always at odds?
Karin moved a pot away from the heat to the back of the stove. "Perhaps they dislike each other."
Nita folded a kitchen towel into a pad and pulled open the oven door. "Silly goose! They may love each other. That can cause problems you know."
"How so? Alexis and I love each other. We do not carry on so."
"Yes. That is true." Nita closed the door and once again checked the potatoes. "But, you have known each other since you were children. You know what to expect from each other."
She put the lid back on the pot, then placed the bowl of the wooden spoon on a saucer sitting on the table. "When one does not know what to expect from their partner, it can produce situations where quarrels take place for no reason, other than uncertainty."
Helena nodded in agreement. "The mistress is pregnant, which adds spice to the mixture. Her moods will be up and down. One minute it will be tears, the next smiles."
Helena pushed back her chair and rose from the table. "It is time I went upstairs to help her dress. I wish they could resolve their differences. I have not seen Dmitri this upset since Madame Anya's death. It has the whole house in an uproar."
Tatiana stood in the doorway listening. "True. But, it is not our place to discuss these things."
"Tatiana! You gave me a start!" Helena clutched the back of the chair. "It may not be our place, but this is not an estate in the old country where everything is carried back to people interested only in using such comments for harm. We are concerned about people we care for. Dmitri is like your own son. He is the best friend of my only son. Do we not have a right to be concerned about his welfare? I am fond of Madame Camille. They have been acting like two cats, spitting and fighting one another since the day the ship docked, and she disembarked."
Tatiana nodded. "True enough. And I am sometimes too strict. No harm will come of this and I must agree with you, Dmi worries me. How long can they go on like this?"
Helena patted her shoulder. "Perhaps the child will bring them some stability. But I must go up to Madame. I hope she intends to tell him about the child soon. I would not wish him to hear the news from any other source. Be sure Anya does not learn of it before Dmitri does. She could say the wrong thing."
The women glanced at each other and nodded. This was not a secret Anya should be privy to. She was too young to be discreet. Helena then left the kitchen.
Camille stared into the eyes of her reflection in the mirror. Perhaps his heart was still in Juneau with the woman. Once again, Dmitri was shutting her out. Camille shivered, and her fears threatened to overwhelm her again. Trying to quell the anxiety looming over her, she took a deep breath.
They had not parted on the best of terms. He could still be angry with her and with good reason. She had not been acting like an adult should toward him. Reacting to his every change of mood helped neither of them. So he was angry, he always seemed to get over it in time.
She must remain reasonable and refuse to argue. It was not good for the child for her to be upset. Camille folded her hands in her lap. Things had changed between them. She had other considerations beside Dmitri now. The child must take precedence.
Helena glanced at Camille's set face in the mirror. The girl seemed to be preoccupied with her thoughts, serious ones. The older woman finished tying a ribbon around the tumble of dark curls.
"Finished, Madame." Helena stood back and inspected Camille as she rose from the dressing table. The heavy dark brown silk gown was a good frame for her pale skin. Camille's own lack of color created an air of fragile beauty. It would be unthinkable for any man to ignore her. Perhaps, this look of delicacy would give Camille the upper hand, when she and Dmitri were alone tonight.
The evening meal was quiet. There was little said on both their parts. Camille excused
herself as soon as possible. He gave her no opportunity to reach out to him. Her resolve weakened, Camille sat in the rocker and cried. At first, the tears flowed down her cheeks in silence. After a few moments, she sobbed.
***
Dmitri slipped into his dressing gown and lit a cigar. They would make the journey to Sitka. Camille would meet some new people. It was possible a diversion could help to lighten the pressure the last few months had exerted on both of them.
Now that Vanessa had a business in Juneau, she would be too busy to demand his constant attention. It had required effort to get her established. But, Vanessa was an avid pupil. She would make an excellent mining claims broker. He had expected it, she was an intelligent woman.
On his return, a major break down at the mill required his attention. Alexis managed to jury-rig the carriage back together after it failed. It should last for a few weeks. While he and Camille were in Sitka, he would order the parts necessary to repair the whole carriage. Once he decided to step into what existed of the social community in Sitka once more, Dmitri put his doubts aside.
While lounging in a chair before the window, he watched the day slip into twilight. The tide of summer had turned, and the days were shorter. The colors of the evening sky and the darkness of the night sky reminded him fall was on the way.
Years ago, before the purchase, this time of year in Sitka marked the start of the social season. Invitations to various parties and functions would have flooded them the moment they arrived in town. His mother always maintained one must party well in the fall to get through the boredom of winter.
In the long years since his mother’s passing, the Bressoff family had been absent from most local festivities. Then the Americans purchased the territory, and many people returned to the mother country. Sitka, as a town, almost ceased to exist.
Dmitri knew he had become something of a recluse. He traveled a great deal for business reasons. During his travels he often attended parties where most of those attending were strangers to him. Often, although he wished to remain in his room undisturbed, he could not avoid someone's "little gathering".
The island was his refuge from the frantic pace of the continent. He was aware it would have been easier to manage his business interests from some city such as London, New York, or even San Francisco, but the difficulties involved, only forced him to plan for the future more than most.
Part of his success was his knack for predicting trends and events. Dmitri laughed. Few realized his deep rooted longing for the forest, deep bays and tranquility of his home, forced him to become the prophet they thought him.
It was time for his hibernation to come to an end. Camille needed laughter and gaiety. Anya needed to learn how to behave in polite society. It was time he re-entered the social whirl he had shunned for so long. There were a few people left in Sitka he knew. They would go there for a visit. He would tell Camille of his decision.
Dmitri rose and put out the cigar before opening the door to Camille's room. He discovered her sitting in the rocker in the growing darkness, crying.
"Camille?" He took her damp face between his hands.
"Whatever is wrong? Please, let me help you."
***
His gentle touch, along with the concern Camille heard in his voice, helped her to regain control over her emotions. Camille wondered if her first assumption was erroneous. Perhaps Dmitri was not ignoring her but preoccupied with other matters.
"I think I felt alone and melancholy. Perhaps it was a fit of home sickness for my aunt."
Her hands in his, Dmitri urged her to her feet so he could embrace her. "We will go to Sitka. You would have liked it in the old days. It is not the same now, but it is still a beautiful place. Perhaps we will go sightseeing about the island. That should cheer you up."
Camille clung to him. One hand stroked the golden curls on his chest. He did not understand. This cheered her up. She felt safe within his arms. Here, even the incident in the forest, took on the quality of a simple nightmare.
Perhaps that was all it had been, a hunter from the village could have mistaken her for quarry and been afraid to acknowledge what had taken place. There was no reason for anyone on the island to hurt her, she must have mistaken the situation. Camille laid her head on Dmitri's shoulder.
The silence was peaceful. Neither of them wished to disturb the fragile balance which existed. Dmitri knew they must move forward in time, but he wanted to fix this moment in his memory. It would be good to know they could find contentment with each other.
It could be the arguments only meant they were like two animals carving out separate territories. Once all the boundaries were in place, the arguments might grow smaller and less frequent. This moment was precious, peace between without disquiet was rare. Dmitri brushed a kiss across the top of her dark head. Camille rubbed her cheek against his skin.
Their lovemaking that night was subtle. Each minute, blended into the next. Kisses and embraces were less physically demanding. Dmitri whispered endearments as they explored each other in the darkness. Camille responded to Dmitri in a different way. They spent the night in her bed, cuddled together like two children.
The following days, were uneventful. Their quarrels ceased. They often sat in the study, Camille sewed, while Dmitri carried on the endless correspondence so necessary to his business. There was an unending river of it, which must be attended to no matter what.
Now and again Camille would glance in his direction, reassuring herself with his presence. A few times, her glance met Dmitri's and a smile of pleasure lit his face. Unsure of Dmitri’s reaction to her pregnancy, Camille kept her news to herself. She thought to tell Dmitri about the child on the way to Sitka.
A week after his return, the Arctic Tern once more set sail. Dmitri and Gregor guided the ship into the deep water of the Inside Passage while Camille and Helena watched from the bow. Camille found sailing to be far more pleasant than the rolling motion of the steamships.
The journey relaxed her. The slower pace and lack of an engine were satisfying. No acrid smoke filled the air. But the wind caused the rigging to make various noises as the vessel sped along.
If the wind changed direction, the schooner steered to a new course. When the wind or their course put the shit at a disadvantage, it was necessary to do what Dmitri called tacking to get past a difficult spot. Camille enjoyed the experience.
They anchored for the night in a small cove. After dinner, she and Dmitri spent a quiet hour on deck. He pointed out the northern constellations for her as they snuggled together beneath a fur robe. When they retired to the small stateroom, Camille again put off telling Dmitri of her condition. Tomorrow would be soon enough. She was not showing yet, so there was no great hurry.
Once in Sitka, and caught up in the excitement of meeting Dmitri's friends, Camille shied away from speaking with him of serious matters.
Fedor and Olga Pirov were about Dmitri's age. Both seemed delighted to meet her. By the end of the afternoon, Camille and Olga were well on the way to being friends. Madam Pirov was an intelligent woman, with a good sense of humor. Her husband was a heavy set, dark haired man, who seemed very reserved next to his wife. The tall blonde woman bubbled over with laughter. She and Camille sat in the bedroom, admiring the gown Camille planned to wear.
Made of scarlet silk, a narrow band of embroidered gold flowers graced the hem. There was a matching pair of slippers, along with a delicate ivory fan threaded with ribbon to match.
"I think you will wear out your pretty slippers tonight." Olga smiled. "Dmitri will have a difficult time keeping the men away from you."
Camille blushed. She turned her head away before replying. "Please, Olga, do not tease me."
"What an adorable sweetie you are!" Olga's laugh brought a smile to Camille's flushed face. "You must realize what a beauty you are?"
Camille's smile faded, and she stared at Olga. "The sisters always told me I was comfortable looking, but they did not say I was beautiful."
/>
"Perhaps they meant to keep you from being vain my dear. The truth is you are ravishing."
Olga shook her head at Camille's stunned look. "Now, I hope I did not upset you. Just take a short rest. We have a few hours before the other guests arrive."
"I shall. I am tired. Thank you."
Olga gave Camille a quick hug and left the room. Camille took off her suit before lying on one side of the large bed.
***
Later in the evening, Dmitri sat in a chair beside the marble topped boudoir table, watching her. She looked like a child in her sleep. Vanessa's face crept into his thoughts.
The two women were as different as night and day. He realized Vanessa meant to use her body to enslave him. Camille was ignorant of the power she could wield. Someday, he would have to break with Vanessa. For now, however, he liked things as they were.
He finished dressing with Gregor's help and had come in to check on Camille. Dmitri intended to wait in the study with Fedor. Soon Helena would come up to wake her. Dmitri had a present for Camille, one he wished her to have before the dinner party. He sat next to her on the bed and leaned over to tease her awake with little kisses. When her arms twined around his neck, Dmitri sat up. He looked at her with a smile.
"Come along, sleepy head. I have a surprise for you moy supruga." Dmitri helped her to push the pillows up behind her. Then he kissed both of her hands.
"Wait here." Dmitri went to the table and returned with a carved wooden box. With a grin, he placed it on her lap.
Dark eyes wide with surprise, she glanced at him before opening the box. "Dmitri!" She whispered, as she looked into the chest. Jewels of all kinds and shapes glowed in the lamplight. They were in various settings. The variety was astounding.
Behind the Raven Mask Page 25