Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Eight
T here was much more Anna wanted to say that she dared not put in writing. The Imperial police opened letters and she must be discreet – especially about Pushkin and the drawings. Might Sofia guess that she and Nicholas had become close? What would she say? Sofia would tell me not to risk my heart, she thought, and she would be too late…
After months of numbing silence, the first sounds of spring could be heard – the slow, intermittent drip of water and, above her bedroom, creaking and crashing as sections of snow and ice slid off the roof to the ground. Icicles clinging to the eaves had begun to melt but it was still raw outside and the windows remained sealed.
In the five days they had been at Davinka, Anna learned many new things about Nicholas. He was clever and he made her laugh. Oh, it was joyous to laugh after the last bitter months. Nicholas encouraged her to be light-hearted as well as serious. His attention gave her confidence and made her feel secure. He urged her to speak her mind, to be daring in conversation even when she wasn’t sure, yet she could talk to him about anything. At times, Anna felt such a powerful connection between them it took her breath away, before an uneasy memory came back her. ‘Worldly women take what they want and escape unharmed…’ Was that what their relationship meant him – a brief interlude in their lives before they both moved on?
Anna pondered the paradoxes of a man with so many conflicting shadows in his character. His physical warmth was so far removed from his cold rationality. He was affectionate and attentive yet, even in moments of passion, she sensed his restraint – as if he had bound his body in the same careful bonds he bound himself. She discovered unexpected sides to Nicholas but nothing of what he felt in his heart. Whenever she came close, he seemed to slip like water between her fingers. Who are you behind entanglements of your soul? she wondered as she lay close to him at night. Does anyone know you? Do you even know yourself?
When the weather was fine, Nicholas took her out in a pony sleigh. They drove from the old manor house through an estate of arable land, following a meandering frozen river to the village. The houses were made of wood and there was a small church surrounded by rowan trees. Anna could imagine it in summertime – the leaves of linden trees dripping with dew, and fields of green wheat. People came out to greet Nicholas and she watched how he spoke to them, noting the way he stood, his gestures and easy smile. Unlike the nonchalance he displayed in Moscow or St. Petersburg, there was a friendliness and warmth in his manner. Anna was conscious he was happy at Davinka – that it was here he felt most at home.
One evening they spoke of Olga.
‘She was only four when our parents died. Olga’s been searching ever since for someone who would never leave her again. That’s why she can’t give up on Peter Dashkovy.’
‘And you?’
‘I was old enough to begin cadet training. Varenka came to live here with Olga, and I returned as often as I could.’
‘Tell me about your parents.’
‘My father was an artist, my mother more of an academic. She wrote books on Russian history. They were good people who died too young.’
They were in sitting in the library after supper and Anna’s gaze was drawn to two portraits that hung between the bookshelves. Nicholas’s father had the same open expression as Varenka while his wife, with her black hair and sea-green eyes, was more enigmatic. She was the one whose grandfather was a Tatar and whom Nicholas resembled most. They could only have been in their thirties when they died. I’ve always taken my parents for granted, Anna thought. I can’t imagine the loneliness of being an orphan. Was it then that Nicholas turned his back on love?
*
It was their last day and Nicholas had invited Anastasia and her husband to visit. Ludmilla tried to persuade Anna to wear one of Olga’s more fashionable outfits but she declined.
‘I prefer my old dresses. They remind me of my friends. When I return to St. Petersburg, I shall wear them in their honour.’
Ludmilla helped her plait and pin up her hair and Anna studied herself in the glass. She was still thin, but the hungry, restless look had gone from her eyes and her face was softer. Nicholas has made me better, she thought as she went downstairs. He’s shown me the person I want to be. I will always be grateful to him for that.
‘We heard you were coming home. John will be distraught to have missed you.’ Anastasia Marinsky stood up, greeting her with a kiss and speaking in a soft drawl. ‘I declare you’re the only woman he’s ever truly loved!’
‘And now I understand why.’ Her husband’s eyes twinkled as he bowed over Anna’s hand.
‘But we were only children. I was barely sixteen!’ Anna protested.
‘At that age, one loves more deeply than at any other time in life.’
Rubin Marinsky was no taller than his wife and good-looking with dark hair swept up at the sides. He had a lively expression and was as friendly as his wife was outspoken.
‘It’s uncommonly selfish of you to keep such a treasure to yourself, Nicolay,’ Anastasia teased Nicholas. She wore a tight-fitting, blue riding habit, her hair arranged in a mass of copper curls under a hat trimmed with feathers that fluttered every time she moved her head. ‘We’d have come to call before had we known Anna was here.’
‘I’m sorry we’re leaving tomorrow,’ Nicholas replied. ‘I want to arrive in St. Petersburg before the roads turn to mud and slush. I hope Anna might return to Davinka one day. I promise to give you more warning next time.’
‘Nicolay’s the best of friends, as long as you go along with what he wants.’ Anastasia winked at Anna. ‘Do you know we bought your father’s beautiful Orlovs? They weren’t cheap, I must say!’
‘Nonsense. Take no notice of Anastasia.’ Rubin’s face relaxed into a smile as his gaze rested fondly on his wife. ‘They’re an excellent addition to our stud and we were fortunate to acquire them.’
Papa has been generous, Anna thought. The Orlovs were his pride and joy and he sold them to provide money for Sofia and the baby. I was wrong to judge him and Mama so harshly.
‘Nicholas’s going to explain everything that he’s doing with his estate. We’re keen to follow his example,’ Anastasia said, drawing off her gloves and placing them on a table. ‘But first you must tell us about Siberia.’
Anastasia and Anna sat down as Ludmilla poured tea and handed round sweet cakes. The sun was shining and broken rays of light came through the windows, dancing on the polished furniture.
‘Siberia is primitive in many ways, but it’s a land of freedom.’ Nicholas spoke first. ‘There are no serfs and little respect for the tsar. For all their poverty, the people are strong and self-reliant. They understand the dignity of man and value their rights. I admire them.’
Nicholas would have liked Anton, Anna thought. He represents everything that’s best about Siberia. They come from different worlds but they’re both strong, independent men.
‘And how are your friends, Anna Ivanova?’
Anastasia’s question interrupted her thoughts and Anna put down her cup.
‘They’re very brave, but their exile is cruel. The women bear hunger, illness and deprivation for the sake of their husbands. Instead of being rewarded for their loyalty, they’re punished – degraded and stripped of their rights as citizens.’ She paused, her fingers twisting in the cuff of her sleeve as she went on. ‘The tsar wants to destroy all memory of the Decembrists. In the eyes of the law, their wives no longer exist. My sister-in-law’s baby will be born a serf and registered illegitimate. It’s a travesty of justice and humanity.’
Anna was unaware of the effect to her words. When she finished, there was silence and she looked at Nicholas for reassurance. He said nothing but there was a glimmer of admiration in his eyes.
Ludmilla gave a stifled sob and Anna leant over and pressed her hand. ‘We mustn’t despair. Their sacrifice will not be forgotten. We’ll fight for them until the tsar’s persuaded to relent.’
‘We haven’t suffered as you have, but we’ll help you.’ Anastasia came to her feet. Her height gave her authority and all eyes turned to her. ‘Please tell us what we can do. But take care, Anna Ivanova. The tsar’s furious with Princess Zinaida for giving a farewell party for Maria Volkonsky. So much so, she’s been obliged to leave Russia.’ She gave an indignant toss of her head. ‘John keeps us au courant with news from Moscow. He sells our horses to the nobility and hears all the gossip. Also, he’s a friend of Michael Pavel.’
‘Captain Pavel?’ It was Anna’s turn to be surprised. ‘I didn’t know. I must write and tell him I’m coming home.’
‘There’s no need. According to John, Captain Pavel has been informed by your parents and given leave from his regiment. He will be in St. Petersburg to welcome you home.’
‘A distinguished reception committee awaits you, Anna Ivanova,’ Nicholas remarked drily. ‘So, what else has happened in my absence? Have they announced a date for the coronation?’
‘The day is set for August. The tsar and tsarina arrived in Moscow for a preliminary visit last week.’ Rubin handed his cup to Ludmilla to refill and remained standing as he sipped his tea.
He gazed thoughtfully around the room before he turned his head and looked directly at Nicholas. ‘The court’s a labyrinth of warring factions, and the imperial family’s the worst of them all. I’m told the tsarina tries to keep the peace, but they’re all at each other’s throats. You know, of course, that Princess Elizaveta Romanov has separated from her husband…’