The Seeds of Power Page 13

  ‘She terrified them both, that is all.’ And afterwards, he thought, she terrified me. He had felt he was being savaged by a gorgon, had never known when she might bite him hard enough to destroy his manhood. Yet, to experience that again, with this lovely, innocent creature...And Dagmar had given him her blessing.

  ‘I would like to be that strong,’ Anna said. He turned and grasped her hands. ‘I am so glad you are not that strong, Anna.’

  ‘Why, Captain...’ she smiled. ‘You’re blushing.’

  ‘Anna...!’ Still holding her hands he led her across the room to the settee by the window, and sat down. ‘I will have to rejoin my regiment, very soon.’

  ‘If Dagmar says she will arrange it for you to stay, then you will stay.’ She made no effort to free her hands.

  ‘Would you like me to stay, Anna? Dear Anna.’

  ‘Why, Captain…’

  ‘Would you? If you would, I would ask you to marry me.’

  ‘Marry? Oh, my.’

  ‘Wouldn’t you like to do that.’

  ‘I’ve never thought of it.’ Now at last she tugged her hands free, and half turned away from him; her cheeks were as pink as his.

  ‘I know I am not the son of a prince, or even a count, Anna. But I have every prospect of becoming one, if I make General. All things are possible when we are at war. I do love you, Anna. I adore you.’

  ‘Good heavens,’ she said. ‘Whatever will Dagmar say?’

  *

  ‘This seems a very good selection, Igor.’ Dagmar reclined on her chaise longue. ‘I approve. You may start training these people in their duties immediately.’

  ‘Thank you, Your Highness.’

  ‘And Igor, I wish you to be sure that you train them only in their duties as servants.’

  ‘Your Highness?’ The blood was draining from Igor’s cheeks.

  ‘I have something here you should read,’ Dagmar said, and picked up the warrant which had been lying beside her on the couch. She held it out, and with a shaking hand Igor took it and unfolded it. His trembling increased as he read it, and he fell to his knees. ‘I have persuaded Colonel Vorontsov not to serve that warrant, Igor, for the time being,’ Dagmar said.

  ‘Your Highness, it is a lie.’

  ‘It is not a lie that you created a cell of the Will of the People here on Bolugayen,’ Dagmar said. ‘A cell that was responsible for the death of my father.’ She swung her legs to the floor and sat up. Igor fell forward to grovel, his head on the carpet. ‘When I first realised that, I felt like having you flayed alive,’ Dagmar said. ‘I may still do that, one day. But then, I reflected, you are a good butler, Igor. I need good and faithful people about me in the difficult times ahead. I am sure that now we understand each other, you will be, good and faithful.’

  ‘I will serve you unto death, Your Highness,’ Igor mumbled.

  ‘Of course you will. And just so that you do not forget that promise, I wish you to know that I have arranged with Colonel Vorontsov that should anything, anything at all, Igor, ever happen to me, I will have your wife, your two daughters, and your three sons, all flayed alive, before your eyes. This is regardless of whether you have anything to do with what happens or not. Do you understand this?’

  ‘Your Highness...’ Tears streamed down Igor’s face.

  ‘Good,’ Dagmar said. ‘Our understanding will, of course, remain entirely private, between you and me. Should anyone learn of it, I will regard it as an attempt upon my life, with the consequences I have outlined to you. Now go and wash your face, have a glass of vodka, and send Monsieur Smyslov to me.’

  Igor scrambled to his feet and backed to the door. When he opened it, Anna and Dubaclov were standing there.

  *

  ‘How are you feeling?’ Dagmar asked her husband.

  ‘Much stronger today.’

  ‘I can hardly wait for you to be really well again. There is so much to be done. I am not sure I am up to it.’

  ‘You, Dagmar?’

  She smiled. ‘I will still be happier with you at my side. But there are some things which cannot wait. There is Papa’s funeral. And Georgei’s.’

  ‘But I thought...’

  ‘We could not continue with the ceremony, with the Prince lying wounded. You must be there, my love.’

  ‘Oh. Yes. Right. Then let’s get it done. Do you mean those two coffins have been lying in the house for the past month?’

  ‘I have had them put in the cellar. Still, I agree it is something that should be done.’

  ‘You are an amazing woman, Dagmar. You have got to be about the most pragmatic person I have ever met. Don’t you feel any grief at all, for your father and brother?’

  ‘Of course I feel grief. But do you expect me to weep all day, and wear black all the time? I am not some peasant woman. I am the Princess Bolugayevska. Now there is something else that needs attending to: Constantine Dubaclov wishes to marry Anna.’

  ‘Good heavens.’

  ‘I have given my permission in principle. But of course the actual decision must be made by you.’

  ‘She’s your sister, Dagmar.’

  ‘She is your responsibility, as Prince Bolugayevski.’

  ‘Oh, come now. I’m not really the Prince. I may hold the title, as your husband, but...’

  ‘I have written St Petersburg with the news, and my letter has been endorsed by the Governor of Poltava. Bolugayen must have a prince, and he must be, in our circumstances, the husband of the eldest surviving daughter. You will have the power, Colin. And I will be at your side to see that it is properly used.’

  ‘I don’t doubt it for a moment.’

  Dagmar ignored his comment. ‘So, will you receive Anna and Dubaclov, and give them your blessing?’

  He considered. ‘I do not really care for Dubaclov.’

  ‘I think he will make Anna an excellent husband. And she needs a husband.’

  ‘You mean you wish to be rid of her?’

  ‘On the contrary. I wish to be sure she remains here. I would like us to offer Dubaclov a position, here on Bolugayen. I think we are going to need all the loyal people we can get, over the next few years.’

  ‘And you reckon Dubaclov will be loyal to us?’

  ‘Of course,’ Dagmar said.

  ‘Now tell me what has happened to Jennie Cromb.’

  Dagmar frowned. ‘You know she was involved?’

  ‘I cannot believe that. She made no move to help Vassily at the graveside. You have not let the police take her, I hope? I would be extremely concerned about that.’

  Dagmar considered him for several seconds, then smiled. ‘There is nothing for you to concern yourself with, my love. I have put Jennie in a safe place, where the police will not look for her.’

  ‘Where?’

  Dagmar hesitated only briefly. ‘I have sent her over to the Jewish village, in the care of Dr Fine. She will be safe there until this business blows over.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN - THE PRINCE

  The late Prince Alexander Bolugayevski and his only son were buried a week later. Several notables from Poltava came out for the funeral including both the Governor, Baron Lebedeff, and his wife, as well as Colonel Vorontsov—with a large escort of policemen. Afterwards the guests gathered in the mansion for luncheon.

  ‘Well, Prince,’ Lebedeff said, raising his glass of champagne. ‘Here is to a prosperous life. I assume you are remaining here?’

  ‘I don’t have anywhere else to go, Baron,’ Colin confessed. ‘I’m still technically a prisoner of war.’

  ‘Yes,’ Lebedeff commented. ‘But I wonder for how much longer. You have heard the news?’

  Colin frowned at him. ‘What news? I have heard little these past six weeks.’

  ‘You do not know that Sevastopol has fallen?’

  ‘By God! No, I had not heard that. How did it happen?’

  ‘Very simply, it was stormed by the Allies. The French were the main factor. The British assault was beaten off. But the French carried ou
t a considerable feat of arms. They attacked entirely without warning, and in several different columns, but yet every column acted at exactly the same moment. It has been suggested that every battalion commander had checked his watch against every other’s, and thus they all were in complete unison as regards time. I personally cannot credit this.’

  ‘It could be done,’ Colin said. ‘Synchronisation of time. Now there is a development.’

  ‘It has never been done before,’ Lebedeff grumbled. ‘However, they captured the Malakoff Tower, which was the dominant aspect of the fortifications, and then forced their way into the city. Casualties were enormous. I believe the Allies lost ten thousand men.’

  ‘And the Russians?’

  Lebedeff made a face. ‘The figure is being put as high as thirteen thousand. There can be no doubt that we have received a most resounding defeat. Already there is talk that the Tsar has sent out peace feelers. Do you know, Russia has never been defeated in any war? Certainly not one fought on Russian soil. Not even Napoleon I could do that. Now this upstart Napoleon III is doing what the great man could not.’

  ‘With a little help from the British, surely?’ Colin suggested. His brain was tumbling. From his sick bed he had written again, to his parents and Cardigan as well as to the War Office, bringing them up to date on his situation, but had still not received a reply. Or at least, not been shown one. He had reflected that his situation was prevented from reaching a critical stage because he was still a prisoner of war. But if there was to be peace...what was he going to do? If there were times when he actively disliked his wife, and he knew he could never love her, she seemed to be prepared to give him all the riches of the earth...in exchange for a subaltern’s pay. And a change of nationalities, to be sure.

  Lebedeff seemed able to read his thoughts. ‘You would be a fool to give all this up, Your Highness.’

  Colin glanced at him. ‘Do you know what it entails, Baron?’

  ‘I know what it means, Your Highness. Enormous wealth, enormous prestige...oh, I know your wife has gone through a difficult period, but...’

  ‘What do you know of that period, Baron?’

  ‘Absolutely nothing,’ Lebedeff said, hastily.

  ‘Not even the name of the man?’

  ‘Good heavens, no. It happened before I came to Poltava. In any event, I gather it was the most closely guarded secret one could imagine. Not even the servants knew of it.’

  ‘How can you be sure of that, Baron? If you were not here at the time?’

  ‘Simply because, Your Highness, servants gossip. It is what they are best at. And the Bolugayevski servants go into Poltava often enough. But not a word of it has ever been spoken. Of course, you can always find out by asking your wife.’

  Colin gave a short laugh. ‘Do you suppose she would tell me?’

  ‘I am sure you could persuade her.’

  ‘By beating her, you mean? But if I did it sufficiently to force her to answer my questions she would probably have me locked up.’

  ‘How may that be, Your Highness? You are the Prince Bolugayevski. Or you will be, once your letters patent arrive. They will certainly be here in a month. And as they were requested by the Princess herself, in the most glowing terms, well...she must wish you to rule here.’

  ‘And that will put me even beyond the anger of my wife?’

  Lebedeff laughed. ‘You say the quaintest things, Your Highness.’

  *

  ‘I think that went off very well,’ Dagmar said, when the last of the guests had departed, ‘and you were just magnificent, my darling. But you are looking tired. I think you should go to bed.’

  Colin had no objection to that. ‘You must be getting pretty fed-up with nursing an invalid,’ he remarked, as she helped him undress; since the shooting and the arrest of Vassily she had not replaced his valet, and had tended him entirely herself.

  ‘I enjoy it,’ she said. ‘But of course I wish you to get well. I wish to have sex with you, and in a month or so that will be impossible for a further six months.’ She kissed him. ‘And there is the trial. Both Vorontsov and Lebedeff are anxious to have that completed before, well...Vassily is not very well. I’m afraid Smyslov’s men beat him rather badly when they arrested him. Well, he deserved it, killing his own father, but it would be a shame were he to die before he can be hanged.’

  ‘Why do I have to be present?’

  ‘You do not have to be present, you are the Prince Bolugayevski. But I thought it would be splendid for the Prince Bolugayevski to give evidence. It will show everyone that we have the welfare of the entire community at heart, that we uphold the dignity and the majesty of the law...and it will introduce you to the public, who at present are hardly aware of your existence.’

  ‘What about Jennie?’

  ‘I think it would be best for Jennie to keep a very low profile for a while longer; she can come to no harm over in the Jewish village, and Dr Fine assures me that she is well looked after.’

  He watched her come towards him, breasts and hair trembling, lips smiling. She wished to arouse, and no man could watch Dagmar Bolugayevska without being aroused, even if, at five months, she was just beginning to swell. Yet every time she did this to him he hated himself, and her. He had not meant to raise the subject, despite Lebedeff s suggestion, but it came out before he could stop himself. ‘May I ask you a question?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘To which I would like an absolutely truthful answer.’

  ‘You shall have it, my darling.’ She crawled into the bed.

  ‘Will you admit that you chose me as a husband because you were determined to have a husband, and there was no Russian of any social standing who would marry you?’

  She made a move. ‘It is unkind of you to put it so bluntly, but since I have promised to answer you truthfully, yes, that is correct. Not that I have regretted my choice for a moment.’

  ‘But would I not be right in assuming that the man you would most have liked to marry is the father of your child? Your first child.’

  A watchful look came into Dagmar’s eyes. ‘I have told you that was not possible.’

  ‘Because he was married, or because your parents would not have permitted it?’

  Dagmar gave a somewhat savage smile. ‘Both.’

  ‘That is what I supposed. But now, both your mother and father are dead, and you are the Princess Bolugayevska. You have very kindly bestowed the executive power of this family on me. But have you made no effort at all to contact your first lover, to find out if he is free? You were certainly free, to divorce me and marry whomever you chose. Perhaps he would have done the same. Then your first lover could be Prince Bolugayevski, instead of me.’

  ‘It was not possible,’ Dagmar said. Her lips twisted as she spoke. ‘My first lover is dead.’

  *

  Prince Bolugayevski! It was impossible to get the concept out of his mind, even if it was equally impossible to accept the reality of it. The most powerful man in Poltava, and for a thousand miles around! Colin MacLain, Subaltern in the 11th Hussars, twenty-one and a half years old! Then his decision was made! To remain here, and be a Russian, and perhaps rise in the service of the Tsar. But an enemy of his country! No, not this Tsar. This Tsar by all accounts was a man who wanted only the best, for his people as well as his country.

  He sat up. Beside him, Dagmar breathed deeply. She was a woman who considered that all life was there to be manipulated. But in doing that, she had given him the power to do some manipulating himself. He got out of bed. He could not dress himself, without a great deal of effort which would undoubtedly wake Dagmar, so he inserted himself into a dressing robe, quietly opened the door, and stepped outside.

  Once out of the room, he was surrounded by stealthy sounds as the servants went about their business of readying the house for the appearance of their master and mistresses. But did not only their master matter? His sense of power grew with every minute. He had the wildest desire to display it and enjoy it. H
e was drunk with the thought of it.

  He went down the grand staircase. At the sight of him, all the footmen and maidservants, busily sweeping and dusting, paused to bow. He nodded to them, and went past them out on to the front porch. Girls were weeding and gardeners pruning, watched by Igor. ‘Good morning, Igor,’ he said.

  The butler had not heard him approach, and nearly fell over as he bowed. ‘Good morning, Your Highness.’

  ‘What time does Monsieur Smyslov come up?’

  ‘Usually about ten, Your Highness.’

  ‘Very good. Have a horse saddled for me.’

  ‘Now, Your Highness?’

  ‘Now, Igor.’

  He returned up the stairs and to his bedroom. Dagmar was sitting up. ‘Wherever have you been?’

  ‘I have been speaking with Igor. I wish to go for a ride.’

  ‘It is too soon. You will hurt your shoulder.’

  ‘I am a cavalryman. Every day I do not ride is a lost day.’

  She made a move. ‘You realise I cannot come with you...?’

  ‘I would not expect you to. But tell me this: do you have a meeting with Smyslov every day?’

  ‘Yes. It is necessary, if I am to keep my finger on the pulse of the estate.’

  ‘Of course. But it will no longer be necessary for you to attend it. I will see to it from now on. As of this moment, your sole concern is being a mother.’

  Dagmar opened her mouth as if she would have protested, then changed her mind. ‘As you wish, Your Highness,’ she smiled.

  He kissed her forehead. ‘You did say you wished me to rule, my love.’

  *

  Igor and a groom waited with Colin’s horse, and assisted him into the saddle. He walked his mount out of the yard and down the slope to the town; he knew he could hardly do more than walk, for fear of hurting his shoulder, but it was so good to be again in the saddle, and out in the open air, and...lord of all he surveyed. It was harvest time, and the serfs, men and women, were streaming out of the town to the fields. All paused to bow and salute their master. All his. Every last one.

  Then he thought of Jennie. Banished to the Jewish village.

  He wheeled his horse to return to the palace; he was not strong enough to ride to the village, nor could he spare the several days it would require. In any event, the Prince Bolugayevski did not do things like that. He would send a messenger, requiring that the woman be sent to him. Then he saw a horseman approaching, and drew rein. There was something familiar about the heavy, black-bearded man, who now doffed his hat as he came closer. ‘Good morning, Your Highness. I trust you will forgive this intrusion?’