Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Twenty-Nine
‘W hen did you leave Moscow?’ Maria held Olga’s hand as if she would never let it go.
‘Three weeks ago. My brother arranged for the best horses at every relay. He likes to travel at speed.’
Maria and Katyusha had appeared moments after the arrival of the Bulgarins. During the chaos that followed – the greetings, questions, serving of bread and salt – Anna had to pinch herself to be sure she wasn’t dreaming. All at once, the small cabin was full to bursting. The warmth of Olga’s embrace surprised her, but Nicholas’s glance was cool as he bowed over her hand.
He was courteous to the other ladies but hardly spoke to her. He believes I’m still in love with Peter, Anna thought. No doubt he’s convinced it was my idea to have him brought here so that I could look after him.
Nicholas accompanied Olga as they went through to the next room. He emerged alone a few moments later. His expression was grave as he took Sofia aside. They spoke in low voices and Anna couldn’t hear what they were saying. Nicholas radiated a masculine vitality she thought would intimidate Sofia – but Sofia didn’t appear intimidated. She looked him straight in the eye as she answered his questions, holding her darning in her lap and occasionally smiling.
Anna felt as if an unwanted ghost had invaded their home. Why was Nicholas paying so much attention to Sofia while blatantly ignoring her? His presence made her nervous, and she was relieved when he went off to find stabling for the horses. Now Sofia was resting, and the women gathered around the table.
‘What happened in Irkutsk? Were you tormented by the dreadful General Zeidler?’ Maria asked as she poured out tea.
‘Nicholas dealt with him. There was no delay.’ Olga paused and looked at Anna. ‘Maria told me how you saved Peter’s leg from amputation. God willing, he’ll walk again.’
Her face was strained and Anna answered carefully, ‘It was Sofia who managed it. The rest of us did as we were told.’
‘When did you decide to come?’ Katyusha dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief as she gazed at Olga.
‘I decided on the day we were in Anna’s house. I hoped to persuade the tsar to show clemency—’ Olga broke off, a frown gathering between her eyes as she collected herself. ‘I misjudged the extent of my influence over him. The tsar made promises he never meant to keep. He had no intention of clemency. The truth is I made a fool of myself.’
There was a long silence. Olga sat opposite Anna in her blue riding habit. She had the same mannerisms as Nicholas, but her slanting green eyes with their black irises were even more striking. Her face had changed, Anna thought. There was a softness in her expression that she hadn’t seen before.
‘You mustn’t blame yourself. You were trying to help us all.’ Maria was reassuring.
‘The tsar is obsessed by the Decembrists. Can you believe it– he’s had depositions from the trial bound into volumes and reads them every evening! He particularly enjoys the confessions of the men he executed.’
A chill came into the room and Anna shivered. Despite what she knew already, revulsion and anger rose in her gullet. It was a moment before she could speak.
‘How long does Count Bulgarin plan to stay in Nerchinsk?’
‘A couple of days.’ Olga’s voice was subdued. ‘Would it be a great imposition for me to stay here and look after Peter?’
‘We would be delighted.’
‘Thank you and—’
‘And Nicholas must stay with us!’ Katyusha clapped her hands. ‘We can find lodgings for your driver in town.’
‘Stepan will sleep with the horses. He never leaves them.’
‘And what news of dear Monsieur Pushkin?’ Maria enquired.
‘He’s back in St. Petersburg under the direct supervision of the tsar. Everything he writes is censored, poor man! Nicholas says he’s become the cat’s performing mouse.’
As Olga said his name, her brother returned. He brushed the snow off his boots and shook his cape before hanging it up. He had with him two bags, which he placed on the floor. Opening one of them, he took out a package.
‘May I speak with you, Anna Ivanova?’
It was an instruction rather than a question and Anna gathered herself as she left the table and sat down in the chair Sofia had occupied before. She bent down and picked up the shirt her sister-in-law had been mending.
‘I called on your parents while I was in St. Petersburg. They gave me a letter for you and money for your sister-in-law. They’re worried how she will manage without you.’
His words brought Anna’s head up, but Nicholas’s expression was bland, telling her nothing.
‘What do you mean?’ she demanded, puzzled.
‘They’ve asked me – indeed, begged me – to bring you home.’
‘But how can that be? Surely, it’s impossible!’
‘There are mitigating factors.’ Nicholas leant forwards, warming his hands near the stove, and caught her gaze so she could not look away. ‘You travelled to Siberia to take care of your sister-in-law out of familial devotion. You’re neither married or betrothed to a Decembrist and your actions were born of compassion, not political bias. This, I gather, is the basis of the petition submitted to the tsar – and to which he has agreed.’
Nicholas is my dark angel, Anna thought, and he’s come to collect my soul. There was sarcasm in his tone, but she was shaken by his words. Uncertain how to answer, she stayed silent and felt his gaze on her face.
‘Of course, you may not wish to accept my offer. Unless the situation has changed since my sister’s arrival…’
‘I’m glad Olga has come at last!’ Anna countered hotly.
In an attempt to appear disinterested, she threaded a fish-bone needle with cotton, pricking her finger in the process. I can’t travel all that way alone with Nicholas Bulgarin! He hasn’t forgotten what happened in Moscow. He’ll make my life a misery. What shall I say? This might be my only chance to get home. Oh, if only he and Olga had come later! I promised not to leave Sofia before the baby’s born.
‘I’m sure your parents have made everything clear.’ The mocking light died out of his eyes as Nicholas handed Anna a bulging envelope. ‘I’m here for three days. You can tell me tomorrow. It makes no difference to me what you decide to do. I’m merely delivering a message.’
He stood up, indicating their conversation was over, and Maria asked from the table, ‘What are you two being so secretive about?’
Anna tugged nervously at her earlobe and Nicholas answered for her. ‘Miss Brianski is considering her future. Whether to act according to the demands of love or duty – the usual dilemma of our human condition.’
But I don’t love Peter Dashkovy! Anna wanted to cry out, but the three women were hanging on his words, so she smiled instead. ‘Count Bulgarin brought me a letter from my family. I believe it contains some unexpected news. I’ll tell you when I’ve read it.’
‘Beloved Anna,
There is nothing we hold so dear as our children and since you left Papa and I have been in despair. We never meant to hurt you and beg your forgiveness for whatever it was that made you run away.’ Here a sentence had been scratched out and the ink blotted. Her mother usually wrote in a clear hand, and her distress was palpable. Anna drew in a breath before she read on. ‘We have worked tirelessly for your benefit and the tsar has finally acceded to our supplications. Count Bulgarin is leaving for Siberia next week and has agreed to make arrangements for your journey. Out of concern for Sofia and the baby, Papa sold his four best Orlovs to raise money for them. I enclose 2,000 roubles for this purpose. Please give them to Sofia with our love and good wishes. Don’t abandon us in our anguish, dearest Anna. We pray for you every day. May God in His Mercy bring you home to us safely.’
There was more in the same vein and Anna took the letter to Sofia to read. She was surprised and gladdened by her father’s generosity. Six months ago, Mama’s words would have made me cry, she thought with a qualm of conscience. I should have cared more for their welfare. Are they really so unhappy without me? Sofia will know. She has always guided me. I must put my faith in her. Sofia will tell me what to do for the best.
*
‘You must go home, Anna. This is your best chance to be with your parents again.’
‘But who will look after you? I can go later. Papa can send money for the journey later once your baby’s born.’
‘Your parents have sent Count Bulgarin instead. Besides, Katyusha has attended births before, and Maria and Olga will help her. Your work is done, darling. You brought me safely to Sasha. It breaks my heart to lose you but there’s nothing more for you here.’
‘But all my dearest friends are here.’
‘Michael’s in St. Petersburg and you’ll make new friends. Your parents have been so kind. Please tell them how grateful I am. When Captain Dashkovy goes back to the prison, Olga will move in with Maria and Katyusha will come and live with me. Count Bulgarin explained the situation and you mustn’t worry.’
‘But I don’t want to leave you and Sasha.’
‘You must go back, darling! You have a brilliant career ahead of you.’ There was a glow of pride in Sofia’s face. ‘Count Bulgarin told me so – he greatly admires your art.’
‘I don’t trust Nicholas Bulgarin.’
‘Why ever not?’
‘He’s without moral scruples.’
‘Honestly, Anna! How can you say such a thing?’ Sofia cheeks flushed. ‘Count Bulgarin would be happy to be relieved of the responsibility. It’s only because your parents are desperate that he feels obliged to help them – despite the inconvenience to himself.’
‘You don’t understand. He has a mistress—’
‘I don’t want to know any more!’
Anna looked into her trusting grey eyes with dismay. Sofia had a loyal heart. She wouldn’t allow a word against the people she admired. However hard Anna tried, she would never convince her.
‘I understand, darling.’ Sofia’s thin arm went round Anna’s shoulders. ‘If I didn’t love you so much, I’d persuade you to stay. I’m happy to be close to Sasha. He and this baby are my life, but you have your whole life ahead of you elsewhere. You must live in the sunshine, not die here in the dark.’
*
It was late when Anna collected her drawing book and went to sit with Olga and Peter. They were asleep. She wrapped two shawls around herself and sat on a hard stool, turning the pages of her sketchbook. The drawings of Nerchinsk were stark images, but her picture of Olga and Peter would be different.
She put on a pair of woollen mittens with the tips cut off and wrinkled her eyes to focus in the poor light. It was going to be a double portrait and she must work fast before the stove lost its heat. Using a willow charcoal stick, she sketched in the background and shadows on the walls, then the outline of Peter’s body blurred by its pile of covers. Olga had Peter’s head pressed to her chest and one hand outside the blankets, touching his cheek. Anna etched the downward sweep of her eyelids and curve of her lips. Her face was still beautiful, but there were lines of suffering around her mouth and on her forehead, Anna noted before she moved on to Peter. Rapidly, she marked the sharp silhouette of his nose and jaw, the sunken hollows under his eyes and angle of his neck, placing the top of Olga’s head in a circle that held them both.
There was no time to stop and rework. It was so cold the charcoal ingrained itself in the paper as Anna filled in Olga’s flowing black hair. The way she held Peter was so tender that her heart welled up. Olga truly loves him, she thought. And Peter loves her. It’s as simple as that. She’s his beautiful, brilliant woman. I hated her for taking him from me, but I knew nothing of love. It’s utterly selfless – the giving of oneself to another without reservation. I can’t ask for Olga’s forgiveness. I can only make this small act of atonement.
The stove sighed as a lump of wood fell into the ash. Soon its heat would be gone and she hurried to finish Peter’s hair, lightening his curls so they looked as golden as they had before. The picture wasn’t perfect, but her fingers were stiff and there was no more she could do. Anna cut the last page out of the book. Standing up with a hand in the small of her back, she placed the drawing on the stool.
Tomorrow was to be an early start. She went through and climbed into bed beside Sofia, snuggling close. Sofia’s my guiding light, she thought with an aching heart. She’s my counterbalance, my friend and my beloved sister. I may never see her again. I’ve made so many mistakes. How can I face life without her?