Valerie's Russia (15 page)

Countess Irina shook her head. ‘No doubt I shall hear from him this week but that news is worrying. Is the Archduke dead?’

Sophia nodded.

‘Why is it worrying, Mama?’ Tassya gazed across at her mother looking bright and perky in strawberry pink cotton.

She was walking quite well now and had almost told her mother yesterday. But her plan was to inform them all on her seventeenth birthday, and she was not going to spoil the surprise. There were only three more weeks to go so she could be patient a while longer.

‘Why does it matter what Austria is thinking?’ she said.

Valerie, too, sensed the old woman’s concern, but had only a vague idea who Archduke Ferdinand was, and none at all about a Serb. What a strange name.

‘Because, you ignorant child, the Serbs are all Slavs and detest being ruled by two non-Slavic races – the Austrians and the Magyars of Hungary,’ said the countess.

‘And Franz Ferdinand was assassinated because he was Austrian,’ said Sophia. She leaned back against the pink and silver striped cushions and sighed. ‘Heavens, but it’s hot outside!’

‘His uncle, Franz Joseph, is the Emperor,’ said the countess, ‘but he is an old man and his nephew was going to inherit the throne of the massive Austro-Hungarian Empire.’

Valerie was very aware of her lack of education but, like Tassya, wondered why this assassination should be so important to the outside world.

‘What will happen now?’ asked Tassya, looking at her mother. But it was Sophia who replied.

‘The Austrians are insisting it is Serbia’s declaration of war on Austria-Hungary,’ she said. ‘And Petersburg is fairly humming with talk of war.’

‘But it cannot possibly affect
us
!’ said Tassya.

If war came to Russia it would mean Andrei Odarka going into battle, and she had planned such a wonderful surprise for him. Pyotr had promised to bring his friend down to Mavara for her birthday party, so there
couldn’t
be a war to spoil everything!

‘We won’t go to war,’ said Sophia. ‘This has nothing to do with Russia.’

Valerie felt sick. If war came, Pyotr would be sent to the front and what if he should die? Why was Sophia looking so calm? Didn’t she care about her betrothed?

‘Russia is the traditional protector of the Slavs,’ said the countess hoarsely. ‘If Serbia asks for our help I am certain Tsar Nicholas will have to offer assistance.’

‘It won’t come to war,’ said Sophia firmly. ‘Pyotr says the Tsar will never agree. We are not prepared and besides, a tiny kingdom like Serbia is not worth fighting for.’

‘I hope he is right,’ said the countess, looking at her future daughter-in-law with speculative eyes. ‘Tell me, how is my son?’

‘He is very well,’ said Sophia, smiling and fingering the ruby on her hand. ‘He will be coming down with Andrei for Tassya’s birthday, and sends his love, madam. Let us hope the weather will have cooled down by then. I came away from Petersburg to escape the heat, but find it even hotter down here.’

Rising gracefully to her feet, Sophia walked across to the fireplace to ring the bell set in the wall beside the pink marble surround. The grate had been cleared of ashes and scrubbed clean. She frowned as she studied the empty space.

When Feodor entered in answer to her ring, Sophia told him to tell her maid-servant to bring a fan.

‘And we need a great vase of flowers, Feodor, a crystal vase,’ she said, ‘and masses of blooms. Have them picked and sent in at once.’

Behind her the countess chuckled.

‘You’ll get no blooms in this heat, Sophia. A few geraniums, perhaps, but they are the only flowers surviving in the garden and Conrad told me yesterday that all the water barrels are empty.’ She seemed to find pleasure in thwarting the younger woman’s extravagance.

‘Then I shall have flowers sent here from town. It is only a matter of organization, Countess Irina.’

‘And finance,’ put in the other swiftly.

‘Water can be brought up from the lake – I presume
that
has not run dry?’ said Sophia.

At that moment Vera arrived with a white lace fan, which she handed to her mistress. As Sophia began to fan her face Valerie wondered if the unusual red of her cheeks was caused by the heat, or by annoyance at the countess’s words?

The weather remained oppressively hot and Valerie often remembered the Crimea, and those blissful weeks spent there with the Imperial family. Although that visit had been so much
earlier in the year it had felt like summer down by the Black Sea, with the deliciously cool sea breezes, the light clothing they had worn and the lack of physical exertion.

At Livadia Palace, Valerie had not had to run up and down stairs obeying the demands of a querulous old woman, nor had she been confined for many hours to a hot and stuffy room.

She had suggested sitting outside on the verandah at the rear of the house, or beneath the huge mulberry tree that shaded a wide area of the yard. But Countess Irina preferred staying indoors.

She seemed to take pleasure in moaning about the hammering and banging of the workmen, as well as the discomfort of the one room that she and Valerie shared until the suite in the west wing was completed.

The countess only consented to being brought downstairs when Sophia came to visit, so for once Valerie looked forward to the beauty arriving at Mavara.

Tassya she seldom saw and Valerie regretted their continual enmity. She had tried talking to her, but Tassya no longer accepted her friendship and lived a secret life with Dunya downstairs.

When Sophia visited, Tassya showed interest in her company, like her mother, and the two appeared to get on well. But the moment Sophia returned to St Petersburg, Tassya withdrew once more into her private world.

Valerie was sure her legs were improving and remembered how Tassya had vowed to surprise them all on her birthday. If this small miracle did occur, perhaps Tassya would be friends with her again?

She missed Pyotr dreadfully and longed for his strong, masculine presence. If she were in his arms, hearing his loving voice, feeling his body against hers, she could face the world with confidence. But on her own in this dusty, noisy, house with
only the company of an ailing embittered woman, Valerie was continually fearful.

What would happen if war came to Russia? What would she do if Pyotr was sent away to the front and she was left at Mavara with Tassya and Sophia and Countess Irina? What would become of her if he should die?

A
t the end of July Pyotr returned accompanied by Sophia and Andrei Odarka, as he had promised his sister.

When the group from St Petersburg arrived at Mavara, Valerie was overjoyed to see his tall figure leaping down from the carriage. Both he and Andrei were still wearing their white summer uniforms with gold buttons and braid and epaulettes glinting in the sunshine. But as they were eager to change into light attire, they went swiftly to their rooms promising to join the ladies shortly on the verandah.

Conrad had met them at Kamenka railway station and he and Feodor helped to carry the luggage upstairs. Vera went with them to see to her mistress’s unpacking and Sophia joined the countess and Valerie on the verandah.

She looked fresh and lovely in a cream muslin frock edged with honey-coloured lace. Her shiny black hair was curled into ringlets reaching to her shoulders, and her wide-brimmed straw hat sported a honey-coloured ribbon with a bunch of velvet primroses clustering on its brim.

Was this the same straw hat redecorated to match each outfit? Or did Sophia possess as many different hats as she did dresses? Valerie could not control a twinge of envy.

‘It is good to be down here again,’ said Sophia, walking along the verandah to peck at Countess Irina’s cheek, then sitting beside her on one of the cane chairs. ‘After we have had tea I
shall have a look around. I hope the men have almost finished now.’

The countess’s suite of rooms was complete and she and Valerie had moved into the west wing to space and comfort. They had a bedroom each, linked by a sitting room decorated in apricot and leaf green, and a small bathroom next to the countess’s room.

Despite all this indulgence, however, Countess Irina was not happy. Tucked away over the west wing she felt isolated and no longer part of the household.

‘We will need more servants,’ she said. ‘Feodor cannot manage with so many extra rooms to clean, and Valerie has much further to walk with our meals and the errands she does for me.’

Valerie’s heart lifted in gratitude. So the countess
had
noticed what she did.

‘We will employ many more servants, do not worry, dear madam,’ said Sophia.

At that moment Tassya was wheeled through the open glass doors by Dunya, and her chair placed beside Sophia’s. Valerie was at the end of the verandah, but she didn’t mind the far corner as it allowed her a good view of everyone else.

Tassya had insisted on being rushed away when the noise of arrival had been heard in the courtyard. She wanted to make sure her hair was neat and she looked pretty for Andrei. Tomorrow was The Day and she could scarcely wait to show them what she had achieved. All due to Father Grigorii. Then Valerie would have to acknowledge that he was a true man of God, and her brother and Sophia would realize he was a miraculous healer.

Valerie, looking at Tassya’s crisp lavender-blue cotton frock, with matching ribbons in her hair, longed for another dress. A best one, which she could wear on special occasions like
tomorrow. Even Countess Irina had asked for her faded, mushroom-coloured moiré to be brought out from the cupboard and made ready for her daughter’s birthday.

All her hopes were pinned on Pyotr, and their future life together. But how could she ever see him alone?

The room she now occupied was reached through Countess Irina’s bedroom and the linking sitting room, so there could be no nocturnal visits from him unless he played Romeo and appeared at her window from the top of a ladder.

Tassya, who caught sight of Valerie’s small smile, wondered what was passing through her mind? She shouldn’t have secrets. This was Tassya’s birthday and all the attention should be centred on her.

‘We are having a picnic down by the lake tomorrow,’ she announced loudly, ‘and Mother is coming in the trap, and Conrad and Feodor and the other servants are bringing the cart filled with food and drink.’

‘How nice,’ said Sophia. ‘But not during the day, Tassya, it will be far too hot.’

‘In the evening.’ Tassya nodded. ‘And we’ll fish for cray fish. Valerie, I hope you will join Dunya in her fishing. She is very good at it.’

Countess Irina tutted as her daughter burst out laughing.

‘I will gladly help Dunya,’ said Valerie, wondering what the hilarity was about. ‘But she will have to show me what to do. I’ve never been fishing before.’

As Tassya roared with laughter again, joined this time by her maid, Pyotr and Andrei came out onto the verandah dressed in their light blouses and baggy trousers.

‘What’s all this merriment about?’ asked Pyotr, walking over to kiss his mother then moving round behind her cane chair and resting his hands on the back of it.

This way he was standing close to his betrothed, but could
get a good look at Valerie at the same time. It was disconcerting to see that she had grown even thinner and appeared drawn in the face so that she looked much older than her nineteen years. Compared to the glamorous Sophia, his little Varinka was as worn and wrung out as an old dishcloth.

She needed money spent on her, he thought, new clothes, and a kinder way of life. Valerie Marsh was no servant, but a lady of quality. Yet here at Mavara her life had reached a very low ebb.

Pyotr frowned as he saw the same dress she had worn the last time he was there, and the same she had worn at Tsarskoe Selo. Well, he was going to do something about that now.

The marriage settlement had been finalised, both he and Sophia’s parents had signed the various documents, and the date of their wedding had been planned for 17 September. The dowry money would be his after that date, but until then a small amount remained in his bank and he was going to make sure that Valerie received enough to keep her going until the autumn.

Andrei could escort Sophia back to St Petersburg whilst he stayed on in the Ukraine for a few more days. He would go over all the finances of the estate with his mother and, at the same time, find a suitable abode for his Varinka.

Valerie, watching Pyotr’s face, saw the light of triumph in his eyes and caught her breath. Your future is secure, my love, he was telling her. Trust me. And she could have shouted aloud with relief and delight.

‘Our laughter, dearest brother, was about the cray-fishing tomorrow,’ said Tassya. ‘Valerie is going to help Dunya with her catch. Is that not amusing?’ She was giggling again, eager to gain his support.

‘Help Dunya?’ For a moment Pyotr stared in amazement, first at his sister, then at her maid. ‘Did you hear that, Mother?’
He turned his gaze on the countess and walked round to sit on the end of her cane couch. ‘Did you know what she intended?’ His eyes were ablaze with anger.

‘Gracious me, what is this all about?’ Sophia was as surprised as Valerie by the sudden air of tension on the verandah.

‘I would not have allowed it,’ said the countess, stretching out to touch Pyotr’s hand, which was clenched tightly on his knee. ‘It was only a joke, Petya. Tassya is becoming a little over-excited about her birthday.’

‘Over-excited? I call it downright rude.’ He glared at his sister, whose giggles had faded to a pout.

‘It would have been fun to watch, Petya, especially for you and Andrei,’ she said.

‘Valerie is not a servant, Tassya. Although by the look of her, and by the way you and Mother have behaved towards her, she seems to have been treated exactly like one,’ said Pyotr.

‘For goodness sake stop this bickering and tell me what this cray-fishing is all about!’ Sophia closed her fan with a sharp click then reached forward to hit Pyotr’s thigh with a light downward stroke. ‘Tell me, Pyotr Silakov!’

Valerie stared, surprised by the antagonism between brother and sister, and the confusion of Countess Irina. She was grateful to Pyotr for coming to her aid, but cray-fishing seemed a very mild activity compared to what she normally did every day.

‘Years ago,’ said Pyotr shortly, looking at Sophia, ‘when we were much younger, Dunya used to go into the lake naked and search for crayfish lying in the mud at the bottom.’

‘And I thought you would enjoy that also, Valerie,’ said Tassya. ‘You told me once you couldn’t swim so think how cool and refreshing the water would be on your hot body.’

The blood rushed to Valerie’s face. This was another way of punishing her for what she had said about Tassya’s adored Father Grigorii.

‘I didn’t realize that such a childish prank was your idea of party entertainment, Tassya,’ she said. ‘But I am grateful to Pyotr for enlightening me and will not be accompanying you tomorrow, Countess Irina,’ she told the flustered woman.

‘Now, now, Valerie, do not take offence,’ said the countess, leaning back in her seat and placing a hand on her palpitating bosom. ‘It was a naughty thing for Tassya to say, but no harm was intended. I cannot possibly manage without you and
of course
you must come to the picnic. It is a special day for my daughter and we must
all
go down to the lake and celebrate with her.’

‘Sorry, Valerie,’ said Tassya quickly. Once they had raised their glasses to toast her, she intended flinging back the rug and stepping out of her chair. What a sensation that would be! And she wanted as big an audience as possible to witness the miracle. ‘You must come, Valerie. Mother is quite right and I apologize for offending you. But it was only meant as a joke.’

‘I think it should be a double celebration,’ said Andrei suddenly. He, too, had found Tassya’s plan offensive and wondered if he had been mistaken in thinking she was a sweet and innocent girl. Perhaps her disabled state had fostered a black side to her normally gentle nature? ‘We must celebrate Tassya’s birthday, of course, but we should also show our gratitude to Valerie for all she has done for the family these past months.’

‘Hear! Hear!’ said Pyotr, grinning at his friend and thankful that the praise had not come from his own lips.

Sophia frowned and Tassya sniffed, but remained silent. Andrei had not found her idea as amusing as she had hoped. Countess Irina, however, agreed wholeheartedly. She was not going to lose Valerie Marsh under any circumstances, so a little praise would not go amiss.

‘That is settled then,’ she said firmly. ‘We will all go down to the lake tomorrow evening, and the cray-fishing will be done entirely with rods and nets.’

Everyone smiled at her words except Valerie. She would join the others and take part in Tassya’s celebrations, and if they wished to praise her it would make a welcome change. But that did not detract one jot from her longing to get away and she prayed Pyotr would find a moment to seek her out. She wanted to know what he had in mind for them both. Perhaps tomorrow whilst the others were fishing, they would find a few minutes to speak to each other?

‘What is happening at Tsarskoe Selo?’ Countess Irina drew everybody’s attention to a more ominous topic. ‘Will Russia go to war, Petya?’

He shook his head. ‘Austria has declared war on Serbia, and Tsar Nicholas has returned from his holiday on the Imperial yacht and summoned his ministers to the palace. He has also ordered all military districts along the Austrian border to be mobilized—’

‘Then it
is
war!’ cried the countess. ‘Oh, my God, when do you go to the front, Petya?’

‘Now, Mother,’ he said, leaning forward and catching hold of her hands, ‘do not get so agitated. It is not war, and the Tsar has only done this as a precautionary measure.’

‘You didn’t tell me,’ said Sophia. ‘You said everything was fine at Tsarskoe Selo.’

‘And so it is,’ said Pyotr. ‘We are not prepared for war and have neither the rifles, nor the artillery, to take part in any major conflict.’

‘Only the men,’ said Andrei quietly.

‘Oh, don’t go
on
so!’ Tassya’s excitement had dwindled at the sight of so many long faces. ‘Tomorrow is my birthday and we should be thinking about that and all the happy things in life – not war, and bloodshed, and destruction.’

Andrei, who had been leaning against the verandah railing, straightened his long body and went to stand beside her chair.

‘We will have a splendid time tomorrow, little Tassya,’ he said, placing his hands on her shoulders and bending to give her a quick hug. ‘I cannot wait to see this surprise you have promised us. It is not Valerie Marsh cray-fishing, I presume?’

At once Tassya was smiling again.

‘It is far more exciting than cray-fishing, Andrei.’ She was elated by the affection in his voice, and by the warmth of his hands on her body.

But Valerie, who was watching her and Andrei, as well as Pyotr and Sophia opposite them, felt the cold fingers of premonition close around her heart. They were together, couples who belonged to each other. Whilst she was an outsider, who belonged to no-one.

Pyotr had promised never to leave her, and she believed him. However, if war came and he was sent to the front she would have no right to him as a wife, or mother, or sister would. She would not be informed if he were injured or, God forbid, killed.

She could wait for weeks and weeks knowing nothing and who would inform her? Whom would she dare to ask for news of him?

In peacetime she and Pyotr could make a love-nest for themselves and form a secretive yet enduring relationship that would last all their lives. But if war came to Russia, Valerie Marsh would be a nobody – a foreigner, without money, and without any claim on the man she loved.

Pyotr, glancing across at her strained face, guessed at what was passing through her mind and longed to hold her, to tell her that everything would be all right. I am yours now and forever and we will be together, I promise, my Varinka. Then Sophia’s hand came down on his heavy with the weight of her ruby ring, and her voice drew his attention.

‘Do you think we should bring the marriage day forward,
dearest Petya? Perhaps we should marry early next month? If war
should
come, you will be called up at once and we might not be together on the 17 September?’

‘There is no need to rush,’ he said reassuringly.

All the necessary arrangements had been made in St Petersburg and he was not going to be forced into an earlier marriage. There was only one month to wait, after all, and a great deal to be organized before then. Like his mother, but for very different reasons, Pyotr was not going to lose Valerie. But time was needed in which to sort out her new abode.