Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Three
I t was after midnight when they arrived home and, as Varenka went straight upstairs, Nicholas took Anna’s cloak and folded it on a chair.
‘I’d like to talk to you, if you don’t mind.’
He led the way to the sitting room and stood aside to let her pass through the door before him. A fire glowed in the hearth and the room was bright and warm, but Anna was tired.
‘Can’t it wait until the morning?’
‘I’m afraid not. You’ll still be asleep when I leave.’
Anna wasn’t in the mood for talking and stood by the fire, tapping her foot impatiently until Nicholas joined her, bringing with him a decanter of wine. He poured out two glasses and handed one to her.
‘I hear you’re planning to leave for Siberia any day now and this is the last chance I may have to talk to you. I’d be grateful if you would be honest with me.’
‘What do you wish to know?’
‘The true reason you’re embarking on this adventure.’
He was watching her carefully and Anna took a sip of claret, glad of its welcome warmth.
‘I’ve given my reasons. There’s no need to go over them again. I don’t understand why you doubt me.’
‘Because I believe you’re still in love with Peter Dashkovy—’
‘Really?’ Anna interrupted. ‘Well, I’ve no intention of discussing that with you.’
‘I’m afraid you must. Captain Dashkovy and my sister remain betrothed. Olga may be in St. Petersburg for now but they still love each other.’
Nicholas was making it up, was Anna’s first thought. She didn’t know why he wanted to upset her, and she turned on him. ‘You don’t believe in love! You’ve told me so a hundred times. The only kind of love you understand is … is … whatever exists between you and your mistress!’
‘You think I am only capable of carnal love, is that what you’re saying?’ There was a warning in his voice.
‘I’m saying that you don’t understand Peter Dashkovy—’
Anna broke off. She didn’t need to explain – it was all there in the letter. Without another word she left the room and ran up the stairs. An oil lamp burned in the passage, but it was dark in the bedroom. She knelt down and reached inside the case, her fingers fumbling blindly to the bottom. She felt the ribbon first and then the paper. She pulled out Peter’s letter and held it to her lips. Hurrying back, she arrived breathless and thrust the letter in front of his face.
‘Read this!’
Nicholas took the letter, glanced over it and handed it back to her. A gust of wind rattled the windowpanes and Anna squeezed the piece of paper in her palm. There was an almost pitying look in his eyes. It reminded her of Sofia’s expression when they had spoken of Peter at home. Then a mask came down over his face and his expression became blank.
‘I visited Captain Dashkovy in prison and suggested he made his feelings for Olga clear to you.’ Nicholas emptied his glass and put it down. ‘It never occurred to me he’d write such nonsense. He’s fond of you, Anna Ivanova, but he loves Olga.’
‘You are forever in my heart.’ In the first rush of joy as she read those words, she had let herself believe Peter loved her. Now doubt crept down her spine in icy waves. Despite the heat of the fire, Anna felt cold to the pit of her stomach.
‘Please sit down, Anna. You look worn out.’ Nicholas took her arm and led her to the sofa, collecting her glass and giving it to her. ‘Drink your wine.’
Anna drank to the bottom. She was tired of Nicholas’s pronouncements and of being reminded of Olga. If only she could tear off the green dress and throw it into the flames! I should never have come here, she thought. I should have kept away from the Bulgarins. Nicholas was determined to break down the last of her reserves and she wanted to get drunk – as intoxicated as her father and Sasha on New Year’s Eve. She wanted to drink until her brain stopped working and her heart was numb. She didn’t care what he thought and she held out her empty glass to be refilled.
‘Not so fast… In a moment.’ Nicholas took the glass away and sat down beside her. ‘I’m not saying this to be cruel. You need to know the truth.’
‘You’re a stranger to matters of the heart, Nicholas Petrovich.’ Anna went on the attack. ‘Pushkin told me you ran away to avoid a duel with Prince Romanov.’
‘Did he now?’
‘He says an honourable man never refuses a challenge over a woman he loves.’
‘Moral maxims are convenient when criticising someone else. However, we’re not talking about me.’
‘Well, it’s time that we did! You despise weakness and emotion – so why are you determined to interfere in my life?’
‘Do you mind if I smoke?’
Anna shook her head and Nicholas opened a silver cigar case. He extracted a cigar, flared a match and inhaled. An aroma of tobacco filled the room and Anna studied his profile from his forehead and aquiline nose to the strong line of his jaw. She noted the creases in his cheeks and laughter lines at the corners his eyes. There had been a time when he had been different, she thought, remembering Varenka’s drawing. It was hard to imagine, but his eyes would always have been striking. Their colour changed with his moods and darkened now as he reached for an ashtray.
‘Ten years ago, I knew a young woman. Her name was Natasha. The first time I saw you I was reminded of her. She was beautiful, warm-hearted and innocent.’
Anna kept her gaze on Nicholas’s long fingers as he tipped a column of ash from his cigar. He took one more puff then threw it on the fire.
‘She convinced herself that she was in love with me. One day she came and declared her love openly. I underestimated the extent of her passion.’
‘What happened?’
‘I told her I was fond of her but only as a brother. I broke her heart. She died six months later.’
‘How? Why?’ Anna asked, catching her breath.
‘She drowned – whether by suicide or accident, no one knows. Love kills in a thousand ways.’
Despite her misery, Anna’s heart wrenched for the poor girl. No wonder Nicholas held himself responsible. This had been on his conscience for a long time. She gave him a sideways glance, but the emotion that stirred him moments before had gone from his face.
‘Worldly women understand the true nature of men. They take what they want from us and escape unharmed.’ Nicholas was blunt. ‘A man changes his woman according to his needs. I don’t know if Dashkovy ever loved you, but it’s Olga he needs now.’
Angry words rushed to her lips and Anna bit them back. It’s not true, she thought, but she wasn’t sure anymore. She couldn’t go on like this, believing in Peter one moment and doubting him the next. It would send her mad. Why hadn’t he had the courage to admit to her that he still loved Olga? He should have been honest. Her jaw trembled and she gritted her teeth to steady it. The letter was still clasped in her hand. She crumpled it into a ball and threw it on the flames. Her admiration and love had sustained her for so long. It had given her hope during the last dark weeks. But the brightness that shone around Peter was dimming, evaporating into thin air.
‘One day someone will love you for your beauty and spirit, Anna Ivanova.’
Nicholas was trying to mollify her but she had heard enough. Between them, the Bulgarins had destroyed all that was precious in her life. The damage was done. She would never get back what she had lost this evening. But it would not change her direction. She would think only of Sofia and the baby. Sofia had never let her down and she would not abandon her. It was clear to her now and she stood up.
‘Goodnight, Nicholas Petrovich’.
‘You have many admirers,’ Nicholas said, as though she hadn’t signified the conversation was at an end. ‘You’re not tainted by association with the Decembrists and can marry anyone you want. Don’t throw your life away for an empty dream.’
‘You needn’t concern yourself with my future anymore. I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to Siberia to take care of Sofia and the baby.’
‘Then that’s what you must do.’ Nicholas came to his feet. ‘If your mission is to look after your sister-in-law, I won’t try to stop you. We should say goodbye tonight.’
Anna took a step back and he smiled. ‘Don’t run away, Annushka. I’d like us to part on good terms.’
He moved to stand closer and cupped her face in his hands. His lips touched her cheek lightly – a touch that shivered along her nerves. ‘If you want me to stop, tell me now,’ he whispered. The buttons of his coat pressed into her breast and Anna was too stunned to resist. He brushed her lips from side to side with his own, until the texture of his skin made her lips glow and burn. ‘And now? Shall I go on?’ The suggestion behind his words sent a quiver around her insides. His thumb traced the outline of her lips. Then his mouth came down on hers.
Anna’s arms crept around his neck and Nicholas kissed her, softly at first, then more intensely. The ground seemed to shift beneath her feet as a shiver rippled over her scalp and down her spine until every inch of her body seemed to tingle. She felt her knees weaken as a hot rush of desire surged through her. His lips slid down her throat and he pressed them hard against the muslin over her breast, burning through the thin material to her skin. Anna was swept by passion she had never experienced before. She felt unknown parts of her stirring and the running swell of her blood. Her eyes closed as her tongue flickered against his mouth, tasting wine on his lips.
She wanted him to go on – to kiss her like this forever. And then a log broke in the grate, and the longing that had sprung up swiftly receded. As her mind cleared, humiliation clutched her heart. He’s testing me. He wants to prove I never loved Peter, she thought, and began pushing against his chest. At once Nicholas lifted his head and looked down at her.
‘To remind you of what you’re leaving behind,’ he said and smiled slightly.
In the depths of his eyes, a flame of light glimmered for a brief moment. Anna was tempted to slap him across the face. Shame and fury engulfed her, but she restrained herself.
‘You presume too much, sir! I’m not susceptible to your advances, nor do I need your counsel. I pray God never to set eyes on you again.’