The Diamond Secret (12 page)

"You've picked a fine time to worry about all this!" Ivan exploded.

"Perhaps, but I had to mention it."

"Sergei, you're a dreamer! Anastasia is dead. Empress Marie is never going to find her because she is not alive. Nadya's family has abandoned her. If they ever were looking for her, she wasn't that difficult to find, working right there in a tavern in the middle of Yekaterinburg. And just because you're about to be repaid a borrowed sum of money doesn't mean your fortune has been restored to you. We still need that reward money; otherwise we have nothing!"

"But is it right?" Sergei asked, anguished.

"It's right to unite the empress with her granddaughter. The empress is a lonely old woman, and she wants Anastasia back. Nadya was a girl living alone in squalor. She might have married some miner who wandered into the tavern, but now she'll marry a prince, or a duke, or maybe a wealthy American captain of industry."

"And you wouldn't mind that?" Sergei questioned.

Ivan swung around to face him, apparently surprised by the question. "Me? Mind? Why would I mind?"

Sergei cast Ivan an impatient look. "Nothing happened the other night in the forest? There was no kiss?" Sergei pressed.

"No."

He didn't believe it. Something had happened. He could see it in both their faces. "You're lying."

"I'm not," Ivan insisted.

"Why do you pretend to be so cold all the time?" Sergei cried, jumping impatiently to his feet. "It's all right to have feelings!"

"No it's not!" Ivan shouted back. "Not for me. I was friends with the soldiers I fought beside. I loved my country so much I lied about my age to enlist. I was battling Germans on the Eastern Front when I was only fifteen, and I saw my friends die in droves. I believed in Communism as the great hope of Russia until I saw the cold-blooded nature of my fellow Communists. No, sir! This life has knocked the ability to feel right out of me."

"And to think that this morning I was sure you were happy," Sergei said sadly.

"Maybe for a moment. But then I came here and remembered I would be giving Nadya up to the empress in a few days. I can't afford to feel anything for her."

"That's what I've been trying to tell you, you fool," Sergei said emphatically. "What if we
don't
bring her to the empress?"

"We have to!"

"Why?"

"Because it's the right thing for Nadya," Ivan said with resigned sadness. "You saw that photo Dubinsky showed us. She looks just like Anastasia. The empress is bound to accept her. What other chance does she have to live a life like that? If I hold onto her for my own selfish reasons, she will never have an opportunity like this again."

Sergei sat again, folding his arms, certain that all his suspicions had been confirmed. "I see," he said. "I don't know if I've ever heard a truer declaration of love."

CHAPTER FIFTEEN
   

An Explosion of Diamonds

Irina shut the door to her spacious bedroom. It was an elegant room with a canopied bed that matched the fabric of her smooth, glossy damask curtains. Irina indicated that Nadya should be seated on the cushioned chair at her vanity desk. "So, do you love him too?" she asked abruptly.

"Who?" Nadya asked cautiously.

"Ivan, of course! It's clear enough that he's in love with you."

Nadya felt something light and fizzy rising from within her. She hadn't ever felt this way before--she was almost giddy with the sensation. "Do you really think...I mean...Ivan is in love with me?"

"Oh, please. Don't be thickheaded! What man who isn't head over heels would be that overprotective and jealous?"

"Jealous of what? Of whom?"

"Of all the attention you'll be getting when everyone sees what a beauty you are."

"Me? No." Nadya was not being modest or fishing for further compliments; she simply did not see herself as a beauty. Yes, she felt prettier than ever before, but beautiful?

"You are very beautiful, just like your mother and sisters. You've grown to look a great deal like them, in fact, though the last time anyone saw you, you were only on the brink of young womanhood."

"Did you and I know each other?" Nadya asked.

"No. My brother liked life at the palace, but I preferred our country manor. I've seen pictures, though. Do you honestly remember nothing?"

"Nothing."

"That may be just as well considering what...what happened." Irina sat on the edge of her bed and gazed at Nadya with sympathy. Reaching forward, she took her hand. "Thank God the nuns took you in."

"I wasn't in a convent," Nadya confided, feeling she could trust Irina. "First I was in an asylum, then I lived on the street until I found work at a tavern. Ivan and Sergei thought it would be best not to tell the sordid details of my real life." She went on to tell her about everything she could recall of her time in Yekaterinburg.

As she listened, Irina blanched noticeably. "How awful."

"I don't understand how I landed in the asylum," Nadya said. "Do I seem deranged to you?" To lighten the moment, Nadya crossed her eyes and comically twisted her face.

Irina laughed. "Stop that, please! No, I didn't think you were unbalanced at all, at least not until now."

"Well see, there you are!" Nadya said, smiling despite the seriousness of the subject. "Maybe I'm
not
right in the head."

"Anastasia always was known for her joking. Your making light of this only further assures me that you are she."

"I'm not so sure," Nadya admitted. "Though I do have the most frightening dreams."

"It makes sense, in a way, that you might be hidden in an asylum," Irina allowed. "There you were, a young woman wandering around with no idea of your identity. Committing you would probably be the best way for the local police to ensure your safety."

"That makes sense," Nadya allowed. "So you really believe I'm Anastasia?"

"Yes. Don't you?" Irina asked.

"Sergei and Ivan are convinced, and I trust them," Nadya said. "Other than that, I have no way of knowing. Sometimes Grigory Rasputin appears in my nightmares, but so do dragons, gargoyles, and other monsters. I once dreamed I was being chased by Lenin, and I'm pretty sure, from what I've heard, that he never knew Anastasia."

"I agree that dreams are not reliable." Irina patted Nadya's hand and smiled as if to put the conversation to rest. "If my brother is sure you are the grand duchess, then I am sure. Now you still haven't answered my question: Do you love Ivan?" Irina pressed.

"We've kissed," Nadya admitted. "Just last night for the first time."

"So I was right. But do you love him?"

"He can be very annoying," Nadya considered. "He's also stubborn and sometimes full of himself."

"I noticed," Irina remarked. "But he's very good-looking, and he becomes tender when he's near you."

"Do you think so?" Nadya asked hopefully. There was that light frothy fizz rising inside of her again.

"Absolutely. What's his title?"

"Title?"

"Sergei is a count. My brother is a count. I am a countess. You are a grand duchess. What's Ivan's title?"

The idea of this made Nadya laugh. She couldn't imagine Ivan with a title. "He has none."

"You mean he's just...a...commoner?" Irina said, clearly aghast.

"His father drove the coach for the Imperial Family, and he used to accompany him. That's how he knew Anastasia and why he's so sure of my identity."

"He's the son of a coach driver?"

"I don't see anything wrong with that."

Irina rose and headed toward the door. Her brow was furrowed in thought. "You look tired, Nadya," she said. "Why don't you have a nap before lunch?"

"That sounds good," Nadya said, stretching. "Irina?"

"Yes?"

"You seem worried. What are you thinking?"

"You never said you loved Ivan, and I'm thinking that--in light of what you've just told me--it's probably best that you don't."

It took a moment for Nadya to fully register the meaning of Irina's comment. She should not love Ivan because he wasn't royal? That struck her as so terribly wrong!

Nadya opened her mouth to argue but, instead of speaking, her nostrils flared as she suppressed a yawn. She was tired and her head was beginning to throb. She desperately needed to sleep. She would think about everything when she awoke.

"I will see you in a little while, after you nap," Irina said as she left.

Snuggling under the bed covers in the middle of the day made Nadya feel divinely decadent. It was lovely, like drifting to sleep in the soft petal center of a rose. Somewhere in her buried past there had been a similar room. Where?

As she worked to resurrect this forgotten memory, Nadya succumbed to the luxurious softness of the bed, letting it lull her to sleep.

Nadya is in another sleeping quarters, which is aglow in amber light. Four plain cots stand side by side in a row. The room is empty. Because it is a dream, she cannot tell where she is in the room. Maybe she is in a wardrobe, watching. Perhaps she is outside, looking into the room through a keyhole.

The sinister figure of Grigory Rasputin sweeps in and begins to pace with restless impatience. Nadya chafes with
126
the powerful urge to spring from her concealment and chase him away, shouting with arms flailing, but she doesn't dare. He is too terrifying. He emanates dark menace, almost pulling the light from the room.

After more interminable pacing from Rasputin, the queen, Czarina Alexandra, enters. She shuts the door behind her. "This is not a good place to meet," she whispers, clearly upset. "You're not supposed to be in the girls' quarters. Why are we meeting here?"

"Because it's mealtime, and I knew we would be alone. You had no trouble getting away?"

"I said I had a headache."

"Well?" Rasputin asks irritably. He expectantly presents a gnarled hand with yellowed nails, palm out. "Where is it?"

Alexandra draws a satin bag from the voluminous pleated sleeve of her gown. From it she takes out the most spectacular diamond necklace Nadya has ever seen. It hardly looks real! Three strands of outsize diamonds, each increasing in size as they approach the center, culminate in a rectangular-cut blue diamond of such brilliance that it appears to shine from within.

The czarina places the sparkling gem necklace into Rasputin's waiting hand. "This was my mother's," she says sadly. "It once belonged to Marie Antoinette."

Nadya expects Rasputin to be in awe of his prize, but he seems oddly unimpressed. "A small price to pay to preserve the life of the future czar of All the Russias," he says in a mocking tone.

Then Count Dubinsky rushes in with a tall, thin,
princely personage dressed regally under a cape. "Prince Yuperov and I have come to stop you from making this terrible mistake," Count Dubinsky tells Alexandra. "We had heard rumors that he was demanding enormous payment for helping poor Alexei with his illness. We have been watching him closely for days, and now we have caught him at it."

Rasputin possessively clutches the necklace to his chest.

"This necklace is mine to give as I choose," Alexandra insists.

"The czar may not agree," says Prince Yuperov. "It became part of the Imperial Estate when you were married. If news gets out that you have given the necklace to this charlatan, the people will be outraged. There is much discontent as it is over the amount of Russian wealth being bestowed upon this fraud."

The next thing Nadya knows, there is a scuffle as Prince Yuperov struggles to take the necklace from Rasputin. The necklace flies into the air, and then it shatters in an explosion of sparkling light as the jewels hit the floor.

Rasputin, Prince Yuperov, Count Dubinksy, and even the czarina scramble to snap up the broken strands of glittering diamonds. "We will go to the czar and tell him about this!" announces Prince Yuperov, dashing from the room clutching a portion of the necklace. Everyone rushes out behind him.

Nadya is alone again. From under the last cot, something shimmers like a fallen firefly, and she dares to leave the cover of her hiding place to approach it.

Lying on her stomach, she slides under the cot and scoops out a single diamond that has come loose from its setting. The adults seem to have recovered all the other diamonds but this one.

This misplaced yellow-tinged gem does not possess the showy grandeur of the center blue diamond, but it is spectacular nonetheless, surely one of the larger stones from near the middle of the necklace.

Suddenly a man steps in front of Nadya. It is the scarred man from the train station.

Terrified, Nadya screams.

Nadya awoke screaming. Quieting as she realized it had been a dream, she clutched her head in anguish. Would these awful nightmares ever stop?