The Midwife of St. Petersburg (33 page)

“Then Madame Yeva Peshkova remains in Kiev, I suppose—she and her eldest daughter.”

“Yes, they’re due in a few weeks. It’s terribly hard for Yeva to leave her home and land like this.” Roskov gave a shake of his reddish gray head, tweaking his mustache. “That’s another ugly problem in the family. I’ve appealed to the czar. So has the countess.”

Alex was the one who’d first appealed to his mother to intervene on the confiscation of the wheat lands. There was no answer as yet, but the czar moved painfully slow. Autocracy was a clumsy bear. Alex heard from the
Okhrana that Rasputin was receiving an audience of petitioners in the parlor of his apartment, agreeing to bring certain appeals to the czar and czarina. In exchange for his efforts, the starets accepted cases of famous wines from certain wealthy petitioners.
By now his cellar should be well stocked
.

“Back to business,” the general said, handing Alex the dossier.

The Okhrana, the general told him, was now spying on Rasputin at the request of the minister of the interior and the leader of the Duma. A large dossier on Rasputin’s sins would be placed on the czar’s desk soon, with the plea to send him back to Siberia.

“Perhaps you alone can convince Tatiana that Rasputin’s powers are a sham,” the general was saying. He pointed to the folder in Alex’s hands. “Read this, and then talk some sense into your fiancée.”

Alex clamped his jaw.
“Your fiancée.”
He’d not yet given Tatiana an engagement ring, but the general was squeezing him into a box he couldn’t get out of without serious consequences.

“Show Tatiana what we’ve learned about Rasputin,” the general concluded, “then attend the meeting with her tonight. It will be held at Vyrubova’s place. She intends to leave the ball early. Your report, added to the dossier, will slam the lid on Rasputin’s coffin.”

Alex had his doubts that anything would cause the czar to send Rasputin away. Every criticism heightened the czarina’s hysteria. She believed the safety of her family and Russia depended on him.

“General, I’ve spoken to Tatiana before on the subject, and she becomes incensed. I’ll do my best, sir. Maybe the proof in the dossier will at least plant some doubt. Once she begins to question him, logic should prevail. I’ve heard dreadful rumors about the czar and czarina attending Rasputin’s séances, as well as meetings here at Tsarskoe Selo—meetings that border on fanaticism and immorality. Unfortunately, immorality plays a part in Rasputin’s teaching. According to him, one must sin in the flesh to be free of its hold over the soul.”

“Then the czar must be given proof of these matters, Alex. He must come to see that this scoundrel will bring us to ruin.”

Alex restrained the hot words that stirred in his chest. General Viktor ceased his restless marching and came over to Alex, slapping a firm hand on his shoulder. His eyes reflected a fatherly affection.

“I could have confidence in no one more than you, Alex.”

A
lex left the countess’s mansion with the Okhrana dossier under his arm and climbed inside the family coach.

Within a few minutes, the Roskov residence came into his view. Alex had visited here many times in the last year and a half. He entered through the wide doors and, as usual, asked for Miss Roskova.

“Miss Roskova is with her cousin, Mr. Peshkov, in the drawing room. Miss Peshkova is also expecting you, Colonel Kronstadt.”

So, Sergei was showing himself within the Roskov social circle. It was bold of him. The Okhrana’s “shadow people,” as they were dubbed by those being spied upon, were watching him. He’d managed to slip away from the family manor in Kiev before Durnov could interrogate him, but he wouldn’t escape again if they wanted him. Alex was tempted to let the major-general know he’d heard Sergei’s inflamed rhetoric against the Imperial government, but to do so would be to expose Karena and Dr. Zinnovy as well. Alex had nothing against Sergei personally, nor was there anything to gain by harassing him now. Josef Peshkov had made his decision and was sticking to his confession. Alex imagined Sergei carried a crushing load of guilt—his father was even now at the Peter and Paul prison in Petrograd.

Alex dismissed the servant, saying he would announce himself, and made his way toward the drawing room.

The expansive rooms displayed a cohesive selection of Byzantine-style carpets and other furnishings of the old Eastern Empire. Wooden furniture and exposed beams were hand carved, oiled, and polished. Rich paintings, including one of the Romanov family, were prominently hung.

The drawing room doors stood open, and he heard challenging voices. Were the two cousins badgering each other?

Alex paused outside the wide doorway. Sergei stood, hands on hips, laughing at Tatiana. Alex could see at once that Sergei’s humor held biting sarcasm.

“Rasputin?” Sergei said. “So he is our hope, is he? Heaven help the world of fools.”

“How dare you laugh!” came Tatiana’s clipped words.

“Why do I laugh?” Sergei took a turn around the room as if pondering. “All right, since you wonder, I’ll tell you. To be honest, though, I doubt if you or your silly women friends can swallow the truth without choking. I laugh because women of the nobility who have everything but wisdom will turn to this peasant and sup with him. I laugh because when he tells you to lick sticky jam from his grubby fingers as an act of humility, you are stupid enough to do it. I laugh because you actually think this fool is from God—as if God would have someone half-drunk on vodka most the time. Oh, don’t turn purple about it. Yes indeed, you will kiss his dirty hands, call him
Teacher
and
Shepherd
, and say he’s good and wise and—worst of all—
holy
.”

She gasped, stunned by his words. Sergei grinned. “Rasputin is an absurdity that women with an ounce of discernment could see through in a flash. But women such as you—educated, rich, and otherwise intelligent—have no discernment at all. They blindly and devotedly follow a fool, and that even includes the czarina! Dirty Rasputin cannot even help
himself. He’s drunk several times a week. Yet the women of nobility flock about him with their little elite band of disciples, claiming to be ‘seekers of light.’ ‘Oh, Razzy! I adore you!’ he mocked in a high-pitched voice. ‘Razzy, Razzy, kiss me, my wise peasant teacher.’ ”

Tatiana’s dark eyes flashed like a summer squall. Her palm connected with his cheek.

“You arrogant coward,” she breathed, stepping toward him as he stepped back, still grinning wickedly, though his cheek was blushed.

“Kiss me, Razzy, kiss me,” he goaded.

“Do you think I don’t know how you allowed your father to be arrested and sent to the mines to protect your own skin?” Tatiana sneered.

Sergei’s smile vanished. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It is you and your vulgar Bolshevik friends who have no discernment. Count Kalinsky was assassinated this morning. It wouldn’t surprise me if your best friend, Lenski, was involved. Oh, don’t look surprised, as if you didn’t know. Your little sweetheart Ivanna might have been with him hurling dynamite.”

“Leave Ivanna out of this,” came his warning voice.

Tatiana smiled now. “Ah yes, I do know. My father’s in the Okhrana, my dear cousin, and I know oh so much.”

“Snooping where you’ve no right, eh? It suits you perfectly. And what do you think you have discovered?”

“About Ivanna Lenski? Nothing, but about Karena? Oh, you’d be surprised. Tell me, little Bolshevik cousin, how old were you when your
sister
was born, eh?”

He frowned. “What’s come over you? What are you talking about?”

“That pendant Yeva has, the one with all those treasured jewels, do you know where she got it?”

“Pendant?”

“The one from Dr. Zinnovy! And I’m going to get possession of it
somehow and prove it. Countess Katya will know if it belongs to her set with one glance.”

“You’ve gone mad. I don’t know what you’re yowling about. All it takes is the light shined on your Razzy, and you and the other females go nutty. The czarina is nutty too, if you ask me.”

She stepped closer to Sergei and waved her jeweled finger under his nose. She pursued him across the room. “I know about the silly peasant girl, too, who died giving birth to your illegitimate daughter.”

Bitter gall showed on Sergei’s face now. His grin was gone, and there was nothing but hatred in his brown eyes. He flipped his dark hair back from his forehead.

“You reactionaries!” he scorned. “If Russia is destroyed, it won’t be by revolutionaries like Lenski. It will happen because of people like you. You love your lies. The czar and czarina kiss the hands of a drunken peasant and call him their ‘eyes and their ears.’ While you, Tatiana, you and your rich and noble and stupid little friends fall at his dirty feet and believe he has the answers!” He gave his mirthless laugh again. “And you think Russia can remain strong? Lenin is right. The fruit on the tree is rotten! All we need to do is wait and shake it hard. Our culture will come tumbling down to be trampled underfoot!”

Sergei turned on his heels and stalked from the sitting room. He stopped short upon meeting Alex leaning in the doorway, dossier in hand.

Sergei gave him a measuring look as if he wondered whether he was going to have a fight on his hands. He narrowed his gaze. “Who are you?” he demanded.

Alex dipped his head in a small bow, a smirk on his lips. “Colonel Aleksandr Kronstadt, Okhrana.”

Sergei paled, then rallied. “Now look here, Kronstadt. I don’t want to take you on, but I will if you want it.”

“The last time I wore my white dress uniform, I had wine thrown in
my face,” Alex said, bored. “Let’s wait until I have dirty battle fatigues on, shall we?”

Sergei frowned and glared.

Alex arched a brow. “Or I could just arrest you this moment. You ran off from the Peshkov manor before Major-General Durnov could interrogate you about Grinevich. We’re still looking for one of those who landed a few kicks to his ribs. Would you know anything about that sort of violence?”

Sergei licked his lips. “No, it wasn’t me. I swear it wasn’t.”

Alex straightened, putting his height to his advantage. “You behaved like a fool tonight, mocking Tatiana the way you did. I might agree with most of what you said about Rasputin, but your goading was immature.”

“I don’t need your lectures where my cousin’s concerned.”

“You’ve a lot to learn, Sergei. I’m afraid your growing pains will be agonizing.”

“Am I free to go or not?”

“You can go. But we’ll be seeing a lot of each other, like it or not.”

Sergei squinted at him. “What do you mean by that?”

“Where is Karena?”

He scanned Alex curiously. “In Kiev, with our mother. They’re due here in a few weeks, though my mother wrote Natalia that they’d be staying with Uncle Matvey. Why do you ask about her?”

Tatiana stormed up. “Because Alex is falling for her, that’s why.”

Alex looked at her evenly. “You’re terribly upset, Tatiana. Better sit down and calm yourself. We need to have a talk.”

Sergei watched him with sudden interest, then flashed a smile and looked toward Tatiana. “So Karena’s won him away, has she? Doesn’t surprise me. She’s twice the lady you are.” He turned and marched out.

A terrible silence pervaded. Tatiana held her hands in fists at her sides.

“A Bolshevik. I knew it all along. You should arrest him and let poor Uncle Josef go.”

“Please sit down, Tatiana. We need to discuss matters in a sane and sensible way. I don’t want a yelling match like two children fighting.”

She turned and flounced over to the divan and sank into it, folding her arms and glaring at him, eyes smoldering.

Alex closed the drawing-room doors and turned to face her. She bounced back up, stormed over to a cupboard, and drew out a bottle of burgundy. She was reaching for a glass when he walked up, caught her wrist, plucked the bottle from her hand, and put it back.

“I don’t like women who need alcohol to face their mistakes.”

She showed surprise and stared at him. She appeared to calm down, and after a moment of silence, she brushed past him to stand with her back toward him, folding her arms again.

“Well?” she challenged. “You heard everything I said about Karena and Dr. Zinnovy. Go ahead and rebuke me.”

He walked over to her, took her arm, and turned her to face him. “You promised me in Kazan you’d leave this alone. Why are you stirring it up again?”

“You’re infatuated with her. Admit it.”

He searched her face. Anger flashed in her eyes, and he could see the pulse beating in her throat. “You’re right. I am infatuated.”

“You admit it!” she fumed.

“Yes. I’m sorry if this hurts you, but I’m not sorry my path has crossed with Karena’s.”

She sucked her breath in. Like an adder, her palm was ready to attack the second time that evening. He expected it and caught her hand, holding it.

“You’re not ready for marriage, Tatiana. Like Sergei, you need mellowing. You’re a firebrand ready to burn yourself out. You need time—and some hard lessons.”

“And you’re the expert. You have all the answers, all the mature responses.”

“No, I’ve learned a hard lesson just recently. I’m thankful I recognized it before I allowed a mistake to happen that would ruin our lives. Marriage is a commitment established on love and values, not on career and inheritance. We’re not meant for each other, Tatiana. It would end in tragedy sooner or later. We’re not in love with each other, and you know it as well as I.”

Her face reflected unexpected shock. “Oh, Alex, I do love you. You don’t know what you’re saying. You can’t mean that you want to end our relationship.”

“I don’t think we’ve ever had a relationship. We’ve had a selfish agreement, and it’s time to admit it. We’re not engaged officially, so stop pretending we are.”

“Wait till Father hears this,” she warned. “You’ll be ruined in the military. Is that what you want?”

He ignored the threat. “Your father sent me here to talk to you about Rasputin. Do you see this dossier? It contains accurate information on his habits and character. It will be turned over to Czar Nicholas by members of the Duma. You’d be wise to sit for twenty minutes while we go over this.”