Polonaise (27 page)

‘I'm sure you have cured him. Now, tell me, are you going to oblige me by not mentioning to the Princess what you have noticed?'

‘Oh, I think so. It would only make trouble.'

‘I'm glad you see that. Never forget that where the future of Poland is concerned, we are absolutely ruthless.'

‘Believe me, I won't.' Could it have been he who had so ruthlessly mishandled her, back in the forest at Rendomierz? She did not want to think so, but her eye went down to the ankle that was still a little stiff when it rained.

The journey began to seem endless, and Jenny waited for the inevitable moment when the Princess would realise something was wrong, but one road in this desolate country looked very like another. Their anonymous guide approached her again one evening when she was taking Casimir for a run by the small stream near which they were encamped. ‘I've news,' he told her. ‘The Russian court has moved from Memel to Tilsit to be nearer the seat of operations. You will be able to reach Tilsit tomorrow. I have sent a messenger to Prince Ovinski, asking him to send an escort for his wife. You have only to wait here for them. Make my excuses to the Princess, when she finds us gone in the morning.'

‘You do not propose to stay and face her?'

‘Why should I?'

‘No reason. But please let me thank you, for all of us.'

‘For the little Prince, what would we not do? You'll look after him, Miss Peverel. We count on you.'

‘Thank you.'

‘And, remember, our power crosses all frontiers. We will be watching you in Russia, no more, no less.'

‘I wish I understood …'

‘Don't try, Miss Peverel. If you value your life, don't try.'

When she woke in the morning to find her carriage unguarded, her escort vanished, the Princess was so angry she could hardly speak. And Jenny's explanation did nothing to calm her. ‘You knew last night, and did not tell me!'

‘I was ordered not to. You may not fear the Brotherhood, Highness, but I do. And with cause.' She had never told the Princess about that savage attack on her, back at Rendomierz, and thought this was the moment to do so.

‘They did that to you?' The Princess's hand went up to her own mouth, as if she imagined it disfigured as Jenny's was. ‘And you said nothing!'

‘Highness, I was afraid. And – remember – in their strange, violent way, they are working for what you want: the freedom of Poland. It is not you or me they care about; it is the little Prince, their hope for the future. I wish I understood why they want him back with his father.'

She thought she began to when they approached the little town of Tilsit later that day and Prince Ovinski rode out to meet them. He had aged almost beyond recognition since she had last seen him only a year before. He had always been an immensely elegant, upright rider. She hardly recognised him now, slumped in his saddle, thin, scaly hands clutching at the reins.

But his greeting for his wife was debonair as ever, and he seemed actually pleased that she had brought Casimir, against his instructions. ‘The Prince, my heir.' He said it loudly, making a public statement of it. ‘But we must not be dallying here,' he went on. ‘I cannot tell you how relieved I am to see you, my dear. It is fortunate you have travelled so fast. There is news. Bad news I am afraid. We have lost a battle at Friedland, not very far south of here. Dantzig has fallen, and Königsberg. My master, the Tsar, has given orders that Tilsit be evacuated; the bridge across the Niemen will be burned
this evening. We must cross it first. The Emperor is staying on Prince Zubov's estate and we have his gracious permission to join him there. But we must lose no time. Miss Peverel, may I take an old man's privilege and your place in the carriage? Casimir will be happy to have you travel with him, I know.'

They were almost the last across the wooden bridge that spanned the Niemen and Jenny did not think they would have been allowed to cross if Prince Ovinski had not been with them. Other pitiful wagon-loads of refugees from the approaching French were being ruthlessly turned back, and as the carriage breasted the slight slope of the river, the dull thud of an explosion and a sudden tower of flame from behind them told their own story.

‘Do you get the impression that the Tsar begins to wish he had not brought us?' Jan waited to ask Glynde in the comparative privacy of their tiny room in the overcrowded stable wing of Prince Zubov's palace.

‘Me, most certainly.' Glynde came closer and spoke low. ‘And I hardly blame him. British inactivity has so obviously contributed to these new disasters. If we had only sent ships to help defend Dantzig! And a small detachment of troops 50,000, 30,000 even – might have made all the difference at Friedland.'

‘I doubt that,' said Jan. ‘The Russian troops fought like tigers, everyone says. It was the command that was so disastrous. But it does seem significant that when they retreated …'

‘Ran away.'

‘Ran away from Tilsit,' Jan agreed, ‘the Tsar let Granville go off to Memel instead of keeping him at his side. After all, it is to the Russians not the Prussians that Granville is accredited. It seems extraordinary that when he is here at last to offer the new British government's support he should not be kept at the centre of things.'

‘It does make one wonder what may be afoot. Do you know Napoleon refused to see a Polish delegation the other day? Fobbed them off with Marshal Davout. Not a good sign, I think.' He moved away to peer out of the window. ‘Someone else is arriving. Where in the world will they find to lodge?' And then: ‘Good God! The Princess!'

‘Come to join her husband?' Jan crossed the room at a stride. ‘The Prince said nothing about it yesterday.'

‘He said nothing about anything. No more pleased to see us than the Tsar. She's more beautiful than ever.' Ovinski had appeared and was helping his wife down from the carriage.

‘If possible.' They watched in silence as the Prince and
Princess paused in the crowded courtyard of the palace, as if waiting for something, the Princess apparently eager to be gone, the Prince delaying. ‘I wonder,' Jan went on as a smaller carriage drew up behind the one from which the Prince and Princess had emerged. ‘Yes, by Tophet, it's the boy!'

‘And Miss Peverel. She's not changed.'

‘The child has.'

‘Yes, into a boy, as you say.' The little party moved towards the porticoed main entrance of the palace and disappeared from the two young men's sight. ‘I wonder if the Prince sent for them?'

‘Surely the Princess would not have ventured on the dangerous journey from Warsaw otherwise?'

‘But would he have risked her and the child by doing so?'

‘Not to mention Miss Peverel,' said Jan. ‘Are we going to brave the Tsar's indifference and join his soiree this evening?'

‘I think so, don't you? He has not actually asked us not to.'

‘And Adam Czartoryski may have some news.'

‘I wonder. The Tsar is not much more friendly to him than he is to us these days. And that's hardly surprising, if it is true that his friend the King of Prussia was negotiating with Napoleon before the disaster at Friedland about a handover of what was Prussian Poland.'

‘So much for poor Adam's dreams of an independent, or even semi-independent Poland! If I were he, I believe I'd ask leave to return to the university he is building at Vilno.'

‘Abandoning hope? It would not be like Czartoryski. Besides, I think he's genuinely fond of the Tsar, maybe hopes to save him from any too disastrous mistake.'

‘Good luck to him,' said Jan.

They met Adam Czartoryski at the entrance to the great hall of the Zubov palace, where the Tsar held his informal evening receptions.

‘What's the news, Adam?' Glynde felt a stab of pity at the sight of his friend's drawn face.

‘I'm the last to hear it these days.' He kept his voice low. ‘But there is talk of a meeting between the two Emperors. If it happens, God help us all!' He looked past them, raised his voice, forced a smile. ‘Prince Ovinski, may I congratulate you
on the safe arrival of your wife. And here are some old friends of yours and hers.'

‘We met last night.' Ovinski favoured the two young men with a curt nod. ‘Yes, it is a great weight off my mind that my wife and heir have reached me safely after their hazardous journey. I hope to present Prince Casimir to our master in the morning.' He gave the three of them another nod and made as if to move on.

‘May I ask where you are lodged, Highness?' asked Glynde. ‘I would like to pay my respects to the Princess.'

‘She is hardly in a position to entertain, sir. You must know that we are none of us luxuriously housed.'

He moved away and Glynde gave an angry little laugh. ‘The rebuff courteous. Think of Granville's descriptions of how the Queen of Prussia keeps up the spirits of her little court in great discomfort at Memel!'

‘She's had long enough to learn the meaning of exile,' said Adam Czartoryski. ‘And dealt with it gallantly, though I am afraid it has told both on her looks and her health. But I know my master is still her very good friend … I just wish …'

‘Poor Adam,' said Glynde later. ‘How can he wish good for that unlucky exiled Queen of Prussia, when he knows that her good must be Poland's misfortune?'

‘We never did discover where the Princess is staying.' Jan never pretended to find the complexities of central European politics anything but tedious. ‘A continent run by a lot of cousins,' he had summed it up to Glynde. ‘I sometimes think Napoleon is doing them a favour by getting rid of the old, rigid boundaries, and all the formalities that go with them.'

They heard from Granville Leveson Gower next morning, still from Memel. In a quickly scrawled note, he let them know that he had set off a few days earlier in hopes of rejoining the Tsar, only to be informed, after covering fifty English miles of bad road, that the Tsar had moved and was still not permanently settled. He had returned to Memel, to keep up his attendance on the unlucky Queen of Prussia and wait for more certain intelligence.

‘The Tsar don't want him,' said Jan. ‘He's putting him off.'

‘That's about it. There must be some truth in these rumours about a projected meeting with Napoleon.'

Jan laughed. ‘Do you remember when you went on insisting on calling him Bonaparte?'

‘That was a long time ago. Before all his victories. Shall we see if we can find where the Princess is lodged?'

‘Do let us.' For them, still, there was only one Princess.

They found her at last lodged in a gardener's cottage and not liking it much. ‘The serfs on my estate have better quarters.' She apologised for their entertainment.

‘No matter.' Glynde held her hand a shade longer than he should. ‘It is you we are come to see, Princess. And –' he looked about him ‘– our friend Leveson Gower tells us that the Queen of Prussia is hardly better lodged than this.'

‘Really?' The Princess smiled, and his heart gave the old leap. ‘Then who am I to grumble? I am only a little anxious for my child, worn out by the perils of our journey, and now forced to sleep in what is hardly a cupboard, with Miss Peverel for company. The Prince builds such hopes on him … He means to present him to the Tsar today.'

‘The hope of Poland,' said Jan.

‘Mr. Warrington,' she turned to him eagerly. ‘I do beg you to forget that foolish phrase. I'm sorry you ever heard it, but you must see that now, particularly, when the fate of Europe hangs in the balance, is no time to be saying such things.'

‘Only among friends,' said Jan.

‘Thank you!' Her smile for him was as ravishing as ever, and Glynde felt a sudden spasm of jealousy. Jealous of Jan? Absurd. ‘But as a friend,' the Princess went on, ‘I must beg you to be immensely careful what you say. My husband tells me we are on a powder keg here. Anything may happen. Anything!'

‘He thinks the Tsar will meet Napoleon?' Glynde asked.

‘He is very much afraid so.' She put her hand to her mouth. ‘I should not have said that. Forget I did. Please?'

‘It's forgotten.' Glynde smiled at her. ‘Let us talk of other things. Tell us of your journey, Princess. It must have been fraught with danger, for you and for the child.'

‘And for Miss Peverel,' said Jan. ‘How is Miss Peverel, Highness? And the child?'

‘Both well, thank you. As to the journey – I am sure I do not need to tell you what the roads were like. You must have
encountered much the same kind of thing on your way here from Petersburg. I've told my husband that next time I make a long journey I shall be sure to do it in winter, when the roads are hard.'

‘I doubt you will be able to wait so long,' said Jan. ‘You can hardly intend to stay here much longer than the Tsar does.'

‘You're right, of course. And only God knows what he means to do next. Ah,' she turned with obvious relief at the sound of voices outside the cottage. ‘Here come my son and Miss Peverel. They went with my husband as far as the palace to see if they could pick up any news. Casimir wanted to see the Tsar's Guard. He's army-mad, you know.'

‘At four?' asked Jan.

‘Such a well-grown four! You'll see.' She turned, smiling, to the door as it was pushed open, a little timidly, Glynde thought, and Casimir appeared, followed by Miss Peverel. ‘There you are, my darling! Give your mother a kiss!' And then, as he hesitated. ‘Any news, Miss Peverel? Look! Here are some old friends of ours. I don't need to introduce them, I know.'

‘Goodness gracious!' Jenny smiled, blushed and held out a hand to each. ‘Mr. Rendel! Mr. Warrington! You are the most amazing travellers. You came with the Tsar, did you?' There was something in her voice, a note of – what?

‘Yes,' Glynde told her. ‘He was so good as to bring us with him from Petersburg.'