The Amber Keeper (14 page)

I gave a pathetic little smile. ‘Because I’m a silly young girl. But don’t worry, I’ve learned my lesson. I shall take much better care in future.’ This last remark was directed not at Stefan but at quite another person altogether.

Following the incident on the ice, Serge issued another of his furious little threats. ‘If you tell Papa that it was me who knocked you over, I’ll say you lied and have you dismissed.’

I smiled down at him, feeling so sorry for this insecure little boy, thoroughly spoiled by his mother but feeling very much a failure in the eyes of his father, whom he was clearly desperate to impress. Did the Count deliberately ignore Serge in order to punish his wife for being so hard on Irina? What a pair they were. ‘I can’t think what you mean, Master Serge. My feet were quite beyond my control. It was an accident, certainly no fault of yours. Let’s forget about it, shall we?’

‘You aren’t going to tell Papa, then?’

‘Of course not. Why would I? You and I are friends, aren’t we? Why would you want to hurt me?’

There was disbelief and what might have been gratitude in his startled gaze. Nothing further was said on the subject and I kept my expression carefully bland.

Babushka
had also accompanied us to the country, and sent a message with
Nyanushki
asking if I was well enough to continue with our occasional reading sessions.

‘I’m pleased Madame is here. It will be good for her to have a change of scene. And don’t worry, I’ll be glad of a sit-down after all this exercise for my foot. In any case, I’m very fond of the old lady and love spending time with her.’

The first evening I spent with her, reading
The Old Curiosity Shop
, which seemed to be one of her favourites, she was more interested in hearing about my ‘accident’ and if my foot had recovered.

‘It’s fine,’ I assured her. ‘Despite my foolish incompetence.’

Her brow creased in a doubtful little frown. ‘Was Serge involved in any way? As we know, my grandson does have a somewhat roguish sense of humour.’

He does indeed
, I thought. A streak of mischief I neither understood, nor, with my limited experience, was able to control. I had hoped to win him round through friendship, but appeared to have left myself even more vulnerable to his naughty tricks. Nevertheless, I assured
Babushka
that her grandson was not involved, crossing my fingers against the lie, determined to give the boy a chance. ‘I will admit that I haven’t found him an easy child, despite your helpful suggestions. Do you have any more advice on how best to deal with him?’

‘Don’t give in to his demands. He twists his foolish mother round his clever little finger, doing exactly as he pleases, knowing she will never reprove him. It does the boy no good at all. A firm hand is what he needs if he is not to grow up as manipulative and selfish as she.’

I was astonished by the bitter candour of these remarks; she was surprisingly critical of her daughter, but took care not to show it. ‘I do try to be firm, but the boy has a mind of his own,’ I said.

‘I’m afraid he does, and of course he is very jealous of his little sister, believing their father pays her far too much attention.’

‘I did wonder about that. It’s a great pity brother and sister can’t get along better.’ Refilling the old lady’s tea cup, I chose my next words with care, making them sound light and frivolous. ‘She does seem to be her daddy’s girl. Whereas I do sometimes think that the Countess would have preferred another boy rather than a girl.’

She looked at me then with the kind of expression my own mother would have described as inscrutable. ‘There are times when a child is not welcome no matter what its gender,’ she said.

I frowned, in my innocence not fully understanding what she could mean. ‘How sad for the Countess not to have wanted any more children, when Miss Irina is so sweet.’

‘Some matters are best not investigated too closely.’

Inclining my head in polite acknowledgement, I returned to
The Old Curiosity Shop
and continued reading. Whatever secret she was hiding, the old lady obviously had no intention of sharing it.

FOURTEEN

I
had so much to tell Ruth the next time I attended the British and American chapel. ‘I’m not sure I like your friend Stefan very much,’ I said as we sipped tea and ate slices of seed cake. ‘He seems rather militant.’

She gave a little shrug. ‘He certainly has a different view of life than we do, but then he has good reason to.’

‘Really? Why is that?’

‘For one thing, he’s Russian, and we’re English. How can we possibly understand how he feels about things, however sympathetic we might be to his cause?’

‘What cause would that be, exactly?’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t expect
me
to explain. Ask Stefan if you’re really interested.’

I thought about this for a while as Ruth joined in the general chat with the other British governesses. I assumed she meant defending the poor, which seemed a rather risky pursuit judging by what he’d told me. I did sometimes see what might be termed peasants attempting to board a tram, only to be pushed off again by the conductor, claiming they were drunk when they were obviously only fatigued. On one occasion it had been a woman with a child in her arms and I suddenly found myself leaping to my feet, telling the conductor in my bad Russian that the woman was with me. I even paid her fare, for which she was most grateful.

But how involved was Stefan? Just because he sympathised with their plight didn’t make him a revolutionary. Or did it?

Interrupting my thoughts, Ruth whispered in my ear. ‘In point of fact I rather think you like him more than you care to admit. I’ve seen your expression when he’s around. Your whole face lights up, and you can’t take your eyes off him.’

‘That’s simply not true,’ I hissed under my breath, but she only laughed. Were my feelings so transparent? I felt instantly ashamed of nursing secret desires for this good-looking but complex man.

‘Actually, I think he’s rather taken with you, too. What would you say if he were to ask you out?’ she teased.

‘Don’t be silly. It isn’t worth considering. I have enough to worry about with my new job without adding further complications to my life. I’ve certainly no time for romance or to allow myself to be flattered by charming young men.’

‘So you do think him charming, then?’

I blushed. ‘That’s not what I meant. In fact, he’s the absolute opposite at times. I’m saying that keeping the Countess happy takes all my time and energy. She is not an easy woman to please. Can we change the subject, please?’

Our visits to the country estate became more regular after that, and the Countess would frequently send me on some errand or other in search of the impossible. She made no allowance for the fact that in the country it was but a tiny village shop, that I couldn’t just pop along to the Nevsky Prospekt. One afternoon she sent me on just such a wild goose chase for a particular type of expensive chocolate. When I returned with something entirely different, she reacted with a childish show of temper.

‘This isn’t what I asked for,’ she shouted. ‘I don’t care for
biscuits
.’

‘I’m sorry, your ladyship, but the chocolate you requested is not stocked in the village shop.’

‘Then you must insist that they
do
stock it,’ she snapped.

‘I hardly think that likely as no one else in the community could afford to buy such expensive chocolate.’

She gave me a frosty glare, took a bite, grimaced, then held out the half-eaten biscuit to me. ‘You bought it, you eat it.’

‘No thank you, your ladyship.’

‘Do as I say. Eat it!’

I drew myself up to my full height, slight though it was beside hers. ‘You have already bitten into it, so why would I want to?’

‘What you
want
is beside the point.
I
am your
mistress
, and you’ll do as I say.’ The fierceness of her tone, and the precision with which she uttered these words left me no choice. I took the
biscuit
from her hand and ate it, even though it near choked me. She smiled in triumph. As I turned to leave, determined to go before I said something I’d be sure to regret, she issued yet another order.

‘Send Stefan to me. At once.’

‘I’m afraid he’s out, milady, probably exercising the horses.’ In truth I’d no idea where he was, but I’d noticed that he would often disappear unexpectedly, whether into town or country, sometimes for hours at a time. Where he went or what he did, I had no idea.

‘Well, he shouldn’t be with the horses, not at this time of day. I need him
now
!’

‘I will pass on your order when next I see him, but I have no idea when he will return.’

Her eyes narrowed and her fury escalated to such an extent that her normally pale face turned bright crimson. I fully expected her to threaten to sack him the moment he did appear, but instead she turned her wrath upon me. ‘You’re lying, Dowthwaite, no doubt because you’ve taken a shine to him yourself, and you know how he loves nothing more than to make himself available to
me
.’

I struggled to hide my shock at these words as I met the chill of her triumphant smile. Was she implying that Stefan was her
latest
lover? Surely not. Yet he was very good-looking, and there was no doubt she was not a faithful wife to her ever-patient
husband
. Wasn’t the gardener Stefan replaced once her lover, until she
dismissed
him?

Later, when I related this conversation to Stefan, and asked him point-blank if it were true, he vehemently shook his head.

‘Absolute nonsense! I’ll admit the Countess has me constantly at her beck and call, acting as her personal chauffeur and footman, as well as handyman and general gardener. Today she wanted nothing more than for me to take her a tray of tea, for heaven’s sake, as if I were her personal servant.’

‘But that’s what you are, Stefan,’ I reminded him, wondering why she hadn’t asked me to fetch the tea, yet knowing she’d flaunted this supposed liaison with Stefan to make me jealous, presumably as a form of petty revenge for my alleged failure to buy her the chocolate. To my great irritation, she had succeeded.

We were keeping our voices low as the children and I helped him to feed the hens, as they so loved to do. Even Serge would
happily
collect eggs and fill the water troughs.

‘We are all at her beck and call,’ I quietly pointed out. ‘Even
Nyanushki
complains about being given far too many jobs ‒
caring
for
Babushka
, helping with the children, and even acting as the Countess’s lady’s maid while her regular one is away. Her Ladyship is very demanding.’

‘And such a drama queen, always making a fuss and screaming at the Count for some alleged failure on his part. He simply walks away when he’s heard enough while she throws priceless porcelain vases after his retreating figure. Why he puts up with her I cannot imagine.’ Stefan shook his head in disbelief as I scooped out the old straw and replaced it with fresh, fascinated despite myself and wondering how he’d managed to learn so much about her.

‘She does love to mock people and make their lives a misery, even
Babushka
, who really is a dear old lady who makes no fuss at all. Unlike her gentle mother, the Countess is completely profligate, with no idea of the value of money. So where were you this morning when you were absent without leave?’ I asked.

‘I don’t believe I have to answer to her every demand,’ he said, neatly avoiding my question. Then he leaned close to whisper his next words, his warm breath tickling my ear. ‘I have discovered why she dislikes the little girl.’

‘Really?’

Half-glancing over his shoulder, Stefan pulled me to one side, out of the children’s hearing. ‘Irina is not her daughter at all. She is the child of the Count’s mistress, a woman he once wished to marry but was forbidden to do so by his parents.’

I stared at him in stunned surprise. So this was the subject
Babushka
had not wished to examine too closely, or at least was determined to keep secret, since she must know the truth of it. ‘How do you know?’

‘I pick up a lot of gossip in the kitchen among the other
servants
.’

‘Would that explain why she is not faithful to the Count?’

‘Oh, she was never that. It was an arranged marriage based on politics, land and money, not love in any shape or form. Even on their honeymoon, if you can call it that, she was apparently engaged in an affair with the groom. The story goes that the Count tried to make the marriage work, but soon grew tired of her antics and returned to his first love. Irina was the result.’

‘Hence the reason Countess Olga resents her so much. Poor little Irina.’ I looked across at the child, hunkered down chatting to a hen as if it were her best friend. ‘How very sad. She is such a little sweetie who surely deserves a good mother to love her.’

Stefan gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze. ‘Any love that child gets can only come from you, and her father, of course.’

Blinking back a sudden rush of tears as I recalled
Babushka
hinting at the very same thing, I nodded. ‘You’re right, and I’ll see that she does. Thank you, Stefan.’

His hand slid down my back to my waist, sending a little shiver of longing through me at his touch. ‘Love is important in life, don’t you think?’

I looked up into his face, saw how his eyes scanned mine before focusing on my mouth. ‘I think I’d better take the children inside now to get them ready for lunch,’ I said with a smile, and beat a hasty retreat, quite forgetting that he still hadn’t answered my earlier question.

‘Why are you leaving us,
Baryshnya
?’ Little Irina was sitting up in bed gazing up at me, her blue eyes filling with tears.

I quickly hunkered down to gather her in my arms. ‘I’m not leaving. Wherever did you get that idea from?’

‘
Mamochka
says you can’t stay in this house another minute.’

I frowned, wondering what on earth I’d done wrong now, and whether the Countess really was about to hand me my notice. I felt sick at the thought. Despite the difficulties in pleasing her, I was growing so fond of her children that the thought of losing them was extremely painful, if rather unprofessional. Surely it couldn’t simply be that she saw me as a rival for Stefan’s attention and wanted him all to herself? Wasn’t that what she’d accused me of?

‘How do you know all this, Miss Irina? Have you been listening at doors again?’ I knew her for a secretive child, who loved to hide under tables or behind doors to listen in on grown-up conversation.

Putting her hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle, the little girl nodded. ‘I was under Papa’s desk. He’d been playing a game with me after tea, and then
Mamochka
marched in and he whispered to me to hide. So I did. Papa was very cross and said he would make sure you stayed. He knows that you love us, you see. You do love us, don’t you,
Baryshnya
?’

‘Of course I do, sweetheart.’

‘Even Serge?’

‘I love both of you equally, and I love this job, so I have no intention of leaving. Not unless I have to,’ I quietly added.

She put her arms about my neck and gave me a warm hug. She smelled of the lavender oil that had been in her bath water, and the jam she’d eaten with her scone at supper. ‘I love you too,
Baryshnya
. You will stay, won’t you? I don’t want you to leave.’

‘Neither do I.’ The voice from the door of the schoolroom caught me by surprise as it was Serge, and this was the last remark I would have expected from him. He sauntered in, hands in pockets attempting to appear unconcerned and quite casual, but there was a tightness about his young face which was very telling. ‘I don’t go in for all this love stuff like my silly sister, but starting over again with another governess would be a nuisance.’

‘Yes,’ I agreed quite seriously. ‘I can see that it would be, Master Serge. I do hope you won’t feel it necessary to do so.’