Love and Splendor: The Coltrane Saga, Book 5 (35 page)

Early the next morning, Travis invited Dani to go with him to view the famed racing stables of Chantilly, knowing she would enjoy seeing the magnificent eighteenth-century stone structure, with stalls for two hundred and fifty horses and four hundred hounds, along with rooms for huntsmen and grooms.

He also wanted an opportunity for the two of them to be alone together.

Dani was properly impressed with the surroundings, said it seemed more like a palace than a stable.

Travis, comfortably attired in a riding habit of red velvet coat and white satin pants, chewed on a cheroot as he reminded her that Chantilly had been a racing center for a long time, but added it wasn’t exactly his idea of a place for a holiday. With a wry grin, he added, “You can guess there’s some art involved.”

Dani laughed. “I’ve heard. The Duc d’Aumale left his magnificent collection to France on the condition that the paintings never be removed from Chantilly or lent for any exhibition. I imagine Kitty is in heaven living with the fifteenth- and sixteenth-century drawings.”

Suddenly, he got to the point. “Why are you and Colt going to Russia?”

She blanched, floundered for an explanation he would believe. “I told you—”

“You told me what you wanted me to know,” he contradicted. “I want the real reason.”

A slow smile touched her lips. “I guess I can’t fool you, can I?”

“No.” Gray eyes twinkled with just a hint of amusement, for he was quite serious. “Tell me everything.”

And she did, from start to finish, including her innermost feelings about Drake, and how humiliated she felt.

Finally, when her heart was emptied, she stood before him to touch trembling fingertips to his cheek. “Poppa, I’m truly sorry I hurt you with all of this. I know how I shamed you, but I have to make my own decisions, my own way in the world. Can you understand?”

Travis wrapped his arms around her, pressed her close against his chest. How he loved this beautiful young woman, so like her mother who’d died in his arms. She was his daughter, flesh of his flesh, a part of his heart, and he never wanted to cause her a moment of pain. “Yes, honey, I do understand,” he whispered huskily. “You’re that much like me, aren’t you? You’ve got to go where life takes you and heaven help anyone who gets in your way.”

Dani gazed up at him, eyes misted by tears of adoration. “I love you, Poppa,” she whispered tremulously.

Travis felt the moisture of the ages in his own vision as he responded tenderly, “I love you, too, Dani…”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Dani found the sea voyage fascinating, exciting and fun. Along with Cyril, she and Colt had been among those fortunate to book first-class passage on a special sailing of the luxurious
White Star Britannic
. Not only was the food, wine, and service superb, their cabins were large and lavishly furnished, containing private bathrooms with hot and cold running water. There was even the brilliance of electric lighting derived from four generators. The sea was surprisingly smooth; no one experienced even a twinge of seasickness and all marveled that they might as well have been staying in first-class hotels. There were many activities on board to while away the days, and all in all, the trip was a joy.

Dani fell in love with Copenhagen—a metropolis of fine old buildings and beautiful spires rising from the copper roofs of churches.

The ship was in port in Copenhagen overnight, so there was ample time for Dani to visit the Royal Copenhagen factory where she was delighted to be granted a commission to sell selected pieces of Flora Danica in her shop. There was even a hint that if all went well she might even be able to acquire an entire set in the future.

Delighted with her success, Dani took Colt and Cyril sightseeing during their remaining time in port. They visited the Amalienborg Palace Square to view the Royal Guardsmen on duty for the Royal House of Glucksborg, with their striking tall bearskin caps. Then they strolled along the lovely promenade “Langelinie” and along the sound to gaze at the beautiful Renaissance palace of Rosenborg, with its beautiful flower beds, majestic trees, and pleasant walks lined with sculpture.

They enjoyed a lunch of Danish
smørrebrød
—open-faced sandwiches of buttered bread topped with a variety of garnishes, such as sliced ham, roast beef, or cheese. For dinner, they opted not to eat onboard the ship but instead sampled the seafood in a restaurant in the Tivoli Gardens, then spent the evening at the Royal Theater enjoying a performance of the Royal Danish Ballet.

When, at last, it was time for the
Britannic
to steam from the Nyhavn waterfront, Dani stood at the ship’s railing and made a silent promise to return one day to experience more of the lovely charm of the wonderful country of Denmark.

Upon their arrival in Saint Petersburg, thanks to Travis having sent messages to influential acquaintances advising that his daughter and son were arriving for a visit and requesting that any courtesies granted them be considered a personal favor, Dani and Colt found themselves in a social whirl from the moment they came down the gangplank of their ship. They were also not neglected by Cyril, who was being extremely polite despite his disappointment over Colt’s presence which had, of course, thwarted plans for seducing Dani.

Dani marveled at Saint Petersburg, capital of the Russian empire. She was fascinated at the way the city was built on water, spreading across nineteen islands, which were chained by arching bridges and laced by winding canals.

Carefully planned under the personal direction of Peter I, the city named for him was molded of huge baroque palaces in red and yellow, blue and white, or pale green. All buildings were painted, no matter how small, and were plastered and ornamented in colors and styles of the south.

Dani loved being there for the winter season when arctic latitudes played tricks with time and light. Nights began early in the afternoon, lasting till the middle of the next morning. Whirling snowstorms and icy winds swept across the flat plain surrounding the city to lash windows and walls of the Renaissance palaces, freezing solid the Neva River, she had been told, from mid-November to April.

Yet, despite the gloomy monotony of winter gray, there were days when the sky would glow silver blue and turn the snowy world to one of sparkling crystal. Dani then would blink against the dazzling glare of the sun.

Despite the mystical, magical beauty of winter, it was said that the loveliest time in Russia was May through June, the time of the poets’ paradise called “White Nights”, when only about forty minutes of semidarkness occurred within a twenty-four-hour period. By eleven in the evening, the day would fade to a milky haze of pearl and silver, mysteriously veiling the landscape in iridescence.

Dani learned that in addition to the charm and gloss, Saint Petersburg was considered to be the center of Russian life, with great opera, ballet, symphonies, and chamber orchestras playing the music of Tchaikovsky, Glinka, and Mussorgsky.

The official language was French, not Russian, and the best furniture and clothing came from Paris.

It was truly an exciting world of glitter and glamour. Dani had lost count of the receptions she attended where officers in blazing decorations on their brilliant uniforms escorted elegant ladies in billowing satin dresses of every color in the rainbow. She had sipped champagne in ornate high-ceilinged drawing rooms, nibbling cold sturgeon and caviar.

Kitty had written to an influential patron of the arts she had met in Paris to make sure Dani was invited to the Bal Blanc, a dance where young, unmarried girls in virginal white dresses danced quadrilles with young, unmarried officers while being watched by cold-eyed chaperones.

Cyril had them invited to the Bals Roses to witness the flashing jewels and blue and green and scarlet uniforms as young marrieds swirled to waltzes and gypsy music.

It was a world where ladies donned their diamonds in the morning, attended a church service, entertained for lunch, walked in the crisp, cold winter air in the early afternoon, then spent the remainder of the day preparing for yet another magnificent ball in the evening.

Yes, in a short period of time, Dani had sampled a large part of the excitement and glamour offered by Saint Petersburg…but was all too aware that something had eluded her.

She had not encountered Drake.

And how could she even look for him without appearing obvious?

She had thought he would be among the glitter and excitement, then reminded herself he had been banned from the Imperial Court…which meant, of course, that others in high society systematically deleted his name from their invitation lists, as well.

So, if he were in Russia, where was he?

This worry plagued her endlessly, her misery intensified by the inability to share her anxiety with anyone.

Again, due to the esteem of having such an internationally revered father, Dani and Colt were provided with residence in the French Embassy, located on the banks of the Dvortsvotsky Most, with a view of the Neva River and situated only two blocks from the Winter Palace of the Czar.

Though small and modest, their rooms were quite comfortable. Colt had a place to the rear of the first floor, with an outside entrance so he could come and go at will, while Dani was more protected, as intended, in a small suite on the second floor with a balcony overlooking the Neva in one direction, the Moika River visible the other way.

Dani loved to stand on the balcony and look toward the Winter Palace, truly a sight to behold. The grandiose edifice was in the baroque style, easily the largest and most splendid building in Saint Petersburg. Each of the palace’s four façades had a character of its own. The eastern had a canopy on pylons, its projecting wings forming the main courtyard which opened into the city toward the shipyard, called the Admiralty. The western, ornate with baroque cupids’ heads, lions’ faces, and scrolls, looked to the Summer Palace in the distance. The northern, facing the Neva, was quieter in style but had a double tier of white columns to impressively effect light and shade. The southern, and main, façade had three arched entrances with Corinthian columns of pure white Italian marble. On the roof were over one hundred and seventy-six sculptural figures interspersed with vases.

Dani had a special reason for standing on her balcony this particular evening, trembling with excitement. In a few hours she would actually enter that majestic place. She and Colt had been invited to a ball given by the Czar himself, Alexander III.

When she had told Cyril of the invitation, he had insisted that she take him along as her escort. “Despite my business and social connections,” he bitterly, admitted, “I’ve never been to a royal ball, and after all the invitations I’ve gotten for you, it’s the least you can do for me.”

Darn was grateful for his kindness and regretted having to say no to him. “The invitation plainly states Colt and I are invited together, just the two of us. I’m truly sorry, Cyril.”

He had become quite indignant. “Well, I don’t understand how you managed to get such an invitation. It’s probably a mistake. Your father probably doesn’t even know the Czar,” he added testily.

Now, tonight, Dani was too excited to worry over Cyril’s hurt pride.

When the invitation had arrived, personally delivered by a bearded Cossack soldier in scarlet tunic, black fur cap, boots, and shining saber at his side, Dani knew she had to have a very special gown for the occasion. She had gone to Saint Petersburg’s reigning fashion dictator,
Madame
Kerensky, the
couturière
who designed for the wife of the Czar, the Empress Marie Feodorovna.

The dress subsequently created especially for her was of cream silk, embroidered in blue and silver. Then she had spent a large sum on a blue velvet ribbon adorned with diamonds and pearls, which she had entwined in her reddish-brown hair.

Colt had procured a carriage for the evening, and from three blocks away, they could see the pleasure dome flooded by light. When they arrived at the grand entrance, Dani handed her newly purchased white ermine cape to an attendant, and they then ascended the wide white marble staircases; which were covered with thick carpets of gold and red velvet.

They found themselves amid great columns of malachite and marble and jasper supporting high gilded ceilings, from which hung immense gold-and-crystal chandeliers that dripped with diamond-cut prisms.

Along the walls were baskets of orchids and palm trees in large pots framing huge gilded mirrors.

At intervals along the corridors were stationed troopers of the Chevaliers Gardes, wearing white uniforms with silver breastplates and silver eagle-crested helmets. There were also Cossack Life Guards standing at attention in scarlet tunics.

Dani and Colt whispered together in speculation that there were probably three thousand guests in attendance. Diamonds and rubies and emeralds glittered in the sparkling lights of the chandeliers. The rooms were awash with a sea of colors of every shade. There were officers everywhere—generals wearing medals from the Turkish wars, young Hussars in full dress with tight elk-skin breeches. Then there were the austere court officials, dressed in severe black and gold-laced uniforms.

At precisely eight thirty, an expectant hush fell on the room as people stepped back to allow a man carrying an ebony staff, embossed in gold with the double-headed eagle of the Czar, to walk to the center of the grand ballroom. He then tapped the staff three times on the marble floor.