The Seeds of Power Page 26

  As usual, Jennie waited in the downstairs hall of her house to receive the Tsar. He was attended by several bodyguards, but these were dismissed at the door; he knew he was safe once inside his mistress’s house, because her butler and all her male servants were members of the Okhrana, the secret police. Jennie sometimes found it difficult to determine whether they were there for their monarch’s protection, or to make sure his latest toy did not stray.

  But there was no overcoming her sense of impermanency. Even this house, which she had been assured was hers in perpetuity, whatever her future relationship with the Tsar, remained nothing more than a transient camp site to her, for all the wealth of rich drapes and exquisite furniture, the expensive wines, the crockery and cutlery which was far superior even to that on Bolugayen. She was here simply because Colin wanted her to be.

  As for the Tsar himself...she arranged her features into a smile as the butler removed Alexander’s civilian hat and coat; she went forward with her arms outstretched, as he liked best. Usually. Today his embrace was perfunctory, and then he was leading her up the stairs to the bedroom without his usual stop at his easel. She followed him through the door, closing it behind her. Everything was as he liked it to be, the roaring fire in the grate, the decanter of wine and the two glasses, the chaise longue on which he liked her to lounge, naked...but today he sat on it himself. She poured two glasses of wine, gave him one. ‘Is something the matter, sire?’

  He sighed. ‘What exactly is Prince Bolugayevski to you?’

  Jennie could not stop herself frowning as she tried to guess what was coming next. ‘I was employed by his uncle in England, and then I became his serf here in Russia.’

  ‘But he saved your life when you were charged with murder?’

  ‘Yes, sire.’

  ‘So, is the link merely gratitude? Or something stronger.’

  ‘I have never been his mistress, sire. I have told you this. The link has always been gratitude. It is stronger now, because my cousin is married to his sister-in-law. May I ask what has happened?’

  The Tsar waved his hand. ‘There has been trouble in Poland. Warsaw. Trouble! There is virtually open warfare! Civil war...A rebellion. It is very upsetting.’

  ‘And you blame the Prince?’

  ‘I suppose in a way he is to blame. It was his being shot that sparked the whole thing off.’

  ‘Shot?’ Jennie knelt beside him. ‘Prince Bolugayevski has been shot?’ Alexander nodded. ‘Is he...?’ She bit her lip.

  ‘He is very badly hurt. As to whether he will survive, my brother’s report says it is uncertain.’

  ‘Oh, my God! Sire...’ She drew a deep breath.

  ‘Would you give me permission to go to him?’

  ‘Certainly not.’

  ‘But...’

  ‘You can carry gratitude, if that is all you feel for him, too far. I need you here.’

  Jennie bit her lip again, and bowed her head, while his fingers sought her buttons. She sometimes thought he enjoyed undressing her more than making love to her. But it was difficult for her to be enthusiastic. ‘We both have too much on our minds,’ the Tsar said.

  ‘I am sorry, sire.’

  ‘Things will look brighter in a day or two,’ Alexander said. ‘I will return then. Do not bother to come down.’

  It was the first ripple ever to have affected their relationship. Jennie went to the window to watch him leave. As he walked his horse to the gate, a phaeton with its roof down, remarkable in view of the cold, clattered by on the street. The driver drew rein to raise his hat to the Tsar, and the two women in the car also inclined their heads, and leaned forward to speak with the Emperor. Jennie frowned as she studied them through the steam that was their breaths. They were both well wrapped up in fur coats against the February chill, and also wore fur hats, but she recognised the Countess Alexandra Dolgoruka immediately. Beside her was an extremely beautiful girl, far more attractive than her...cousin? Their features so closely resembled each other that it had to be. The Tsar was certainly attracted. He remained speaking with them for several minutes, and then rode beside the phaeton until it was lost to sight.

  The next morning a letter arrived, bearing the Imperial crest. Jennie opened it with a slowing of her heart. My dearest Jennie, the Tsar had written, upon reflection I have come to the conclusion that my attitude yesterday was quite wrong. I appreciate how much you feel you owe Prince Bolugayevski, and thus I can understand your concern at his misfortune. I therefore give you my permission to travel to Warsaw to be with the Prince, and play your part, hopefully, in restoring him to health. You may remain in Warsaw for as long as you wish, and should you so desire, you may return with him to Bolugayen, as soon as he is able to travel. Assuring you always of my esteem. Alexander.

  *

  ‘The Prince is very weak, you understand,’ said Dr Winawer. ‘I am not sure I should let you see him at all, mademoiselle. But if you are sent by His Majesty...’

  ‘Which I am,’ Jennie pointed out. ‘Tell me, will he recover?’

  ‘Oh, certainly, providing there is no infection. What he is suffering from now is principally loss of blood.’ The doctor opened the door, and the two nuns seated inside the bedroom hastily rose as the tall, auburn-haired woman entered. Colin’s eyes were shut, but he breathed evenly. ‘The Prince was fortunate,’ Dr Winawer said. ‘The shot was fired from a distance, and struck the lower chest. He has broken three ribs, but they will mend. As I have said, his principal problem is loss of blood. But that too he will recover, given time. It is very gratifying that the Tsar should send a representative.’

  ‘Yes,’ Jennie said, and sat beside the bed. ‘Have they found out who did it?’

  ‘Indeed, it was one of the Cossack regiment which was supporting him. Some people say it was an accidental discharge of his carbine. But it is difficult to be certain.’

  ‘Has the man not been arrested and interrogated?’

  ‘Sadly, no. He was immediately shot and killed by the man beside him.’

  ‘Then it was not an accident.’

  The doctor shrugged. ‘We shall never know. The man who killed him claimed to have acted instinctively.’

  Jennie watched Colin’s eyelids flutter. ‘Leave us.’

  ‘But mademoiselle...’

  ‘Leave us,’ Jennie repeated. The doctor went to the door. And take the nuns with you,’ Jennie commanded.

  For a few seconds Colin stared at her, uncomprehendingly. Then he muttered, ‘Jennie?’

  ‘The original bad penny,’ she smiled.

  ‘But . . . the Tsar?’

  ‘I think the Tsar has found a new toy. Thus I must seek a new employer.’

  His hands moved, feebly, and she caught his fingers. ‘I did you a great wrong,’ he said.

  ‘You gave me a great experience, Colin. You have nothing to reproach yourself with. Now your only business is to get well.’

  ‘To have you here...’ His head turned. ‘But...’

  ‘Anna could not come right now,’ Jennie said gently. ‘She returned to Bolugayen last September. Do you not remember?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said, vaguely. ‘She wrote to me that she was returning, and I have had a letter since. But will she not come?’

  ‘I doubt the news has reached Bolugayen as yet,’ Jennie said. ‘You know what the mails are like, in winter. Now you must rest.’

  Will you stay?’

  ‘I will stay, Colin, for as long as you wish me to.’

  *

  Because of the pain, Dr Winawer kept Colin sedated with laudanum most of the time. Thus Jennie would sit by his bed and watch his face, holding his hands, waiting. At least she had the certainty that he was going to get well, Dr Winawer’s certainty. She herself was terrified at every return of the fever, every onset of delirium. As now. He moved restlessly, twisting his head to and fro, muttering, but she could not make out what he was saying.

  She got up, dampened a cloth in the basin on the table, and laid it on his forehead.
His movements quietened, and she sat down again, but when she went to move the towel his hand suddenly closed on her wrist. His grip was surprisingly strong, and she made no effort to free herself, waiting for his fingers to relax. Instead they moved up her sleeve. ‘Colin,’ she whispered. It is Jennie.’

  He did not seem able to hear her, and his hand moved higher yet to her shoulder. She found herself trembling as the fingers then slipped down, to stroke her breast. ‘Colin,’ she said. ‘Anna is not here.’

  He sighed, still holding her breast. ‘Jennie,’ he muttered. ‘Oh, Jennie.’ His eyes remained closed, and he was clearly delirious. But in his torment he had spoken her name! Jennie unbuttoned her blouse to let his fingers drift inside.

  *

  The next day she sat beside his bed to read him the Gazette. This morning he was perfectly awake and lucid. ‘Dr Winawer says it will be several weeks before you are well enough to sit on a horse,’ she said. ‘But you really are looking so much better than I had expected. The report we received in St Petersburg was that your life was in danger.’

  ‘I imagine that was the Grand Duke exaggerating,’ Colin said. ‘Like all weak men, he tends to overreact to bad news. But several weeks...did that news reach Bolugayen?’

  ‘It would have been sent on, although I have no idea how long it will take to get there; the roads are very bad. I only reached Warsaw so quickly because of the train.’

  ‘I imagine, once she receives the news the Grand Duke Constantine has been spreading about, Anna will come here, come hell or high water.’

  ‘You must not fret about it. In any event, I doubt she will risk leaving Bolugayen.’

  Colin frowned. ‘Smyslov could manage the place. Or even Alix…’

  ‘When last did you hear from Anna?’ Jennie was also frowning.

  ‘It was just after Christmas.’ Suddenly he was agitated. ‘Why, is there something wrong? Tell me!’

  ‘Did she not write you about Alix?’

  ‘Alix? Has something happened to Alix?’

  ‘I am exciting you. It is not good. I will tell you when you are stronger.’

  ‘You will tell me now, Jennie. Or I will not grow stronger.’

  ‘Alix was arrested by the police. Just after you left St Petersburg.’

  ‘My God! What for? And why was I not told?’

  ‘Do not fret, my dearest Colin,’ Jennie said. ‘It has all been sorted out, well, for the time being, at least.’

  ‘Tell me what happened.’ Colin’s frown was back. ‘Did you say, Dubaclov?’

  ‘You must remember Dubaclov,’ Jennie said.

  ‘I remember Dubaclov very well,’ Colin said. ‘And you say he rescued Alix from the police? He hates Alix. He hates all of us, except possibly Dagmar.’

  ‘Perhaps he has changed.’

  ‘Not Dubaclov. If he got her away from the police it was with an ulterior motive.’

  ‘You are agitated,’ Jennie said, and gave him a glass of water.

  Colin drank greedily. But he would not leave the subject. ‘Did Anna not comment on it? It must have bothered her as well, because she never mentioned it in her letters. Obviously she did not wish to worry me.’

  ‘Which was very thoughtful of her,’ Jennie agreed, now with just a hint of sarcasm. ‘However, there is a reason for Dubaclov’s action, as Anna understands. It appears that after bringing Alix home, and Anna had thanked him and taken Alix up to bed, he remained with Dagmar for virtually the rest of the night. And since then she has been seeing him quite regularly. It is causing a certain amount of gossip.’

  Colin tried to sit up, and she had to ease him back on to the pillow. ‘My God!’ he said.

  ‘Well,’ Jennie said. ‘If they wish to get together, why not let them? It may ease some of Dagmar’s feelings towards the rest of us. You’re surely no longer jealous of her?’

  ‘You do not understand,’ Colin said. ‘Dagmar would never have sex with a man like Dubaclov just for the pleasure of it. There has to be an ulterior motive. And Dubaclov transferred to the Cossacks some time ago. I read it in the Gazette. My God! The Cossacks! There was a fresh detachment arrived in Warsaw just before Christmas. They were part of the covering force the night I was shot.’

  Jennie frowned. ‘You can’t be serious.’

  ‘I am very serious.’

  ‘You think Dubaclov planned your murder?’

  ‘I think Dagmar planned my murder, Jennie.’

  ‘Where is Dagmar now?’

  ‘Why, she was in St Petersburg when I left, as I say, seeing Dubaclov quite regularly.’

  ‘And waiting for news of my death.’

  ‘Then we must certainly send a correction, and quickly.’

  Colin glanced at her. ‘I wonder,’ he said.

  Jennie sat beside him. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘If I am right, and Dagmar did plan my murder, and discovers that the assassin failed, she will merely plan another assassination attempt. She has no doubt been planning this one for the past seven years.’

  ‘You will need proof, Colin. And if this assassin is dead...’

  ‘The only proof can be supplied by Dagmar and Dubaclov themselves. I think we must let them do that for us, Jennie, or they will be a menace to us for the rest of our lives. What of Anna and Alix?’ he continued.

  ‘You do not suppose Dagmar is going to harm her own sisters, do you?’

  ‘Well...I am quite sure she hates them, Anna, at any rate, as much as she hates you and me.’

  ‘That may be. But she is in St Petersburg, and Anna and Alix are in Bolugayen, and Anna is protected by my deposition. Dagmar cannot affect things there. But it will be very interesting to see just what she does do, assuming I am very seriously hurt, maybe dying.’

  ‘Will Winawer support you? And the nuns?’

  ‘Winawer, like most men, will do anything if he is paid enough. I think the same thing can be said for the nuns. I am not asking them to lie. It is simply a matter of not sending any further reports to St Petersburg, if the first one was that gloomy.’

  ‘And me? I came here to be at your side. To nurse you back to health.’

  ‘You will remain here, attempting to do just that, too overcome by grief at the thought I might die to write any letters.’ His hand moved on hers. ‘Would you not be overcome by grief at my death?’

  She kissed his fingers. ‘I would join you in death, dearest Colin. I would have nothing more to live for.’ She raised her head, flushing, to meet his gaze.

  ‘Have I really been that much of a fool?’ he said thoughtfully, and raised his head as there was a knock on the door.

  The nuns were trembling with fear, and indignation. ‘Your Highness, there are men...’

  They were pushed aside by the uniformed captain, who had four men at his back.

  ‘Prince Bolugayevski?’

  Despite Jennie’s attempt to restrain him, Colin struggled to his feet. ‘What do you mean by bursting in here like this?’

  The captain produced a sheet of paper. ‘I have a warrant here for your arrest, Your Highness.’ He glanced at Jennie. ‘And for the lady.’

  *

  ‘The Princess is here, Your Excellency.’ Igor Bondarevski hovered in the doorway of Anna’s sewing room.

  Anna frowned at him. ‘Dagmar? Now?’

  ‘It is definitely the Princess’s crest, Your Excellency.’

  Anna handed her tapestry to Olga, got up, and went on to the gallery. In early March the snow was still thick on the ground, and Bolugayen had, as usual, been cut off from the outside world for some weeks. Further north the weather must be far more severe. Yet here was Dagmar, getting down from her troika in a flurry of fur and stamping into the hall, flicking snow from her boots. ‘I did not expect you back until Easter, at the least,’ Anna said. ‘Wasn’t the journey awful?’

  ‘The journey was awful,’ Dagmar agreed. ‘But I felt I should come home.’

  ‘You mean Her Majesty no longer asks you to tea?’ Anna inquired.


  ‘I had tea with Her Majesty the day before I left St Petersburg,’ Dagmar said. ‘However, I have never lacked a sense of duty. Have you enjoyed your five months as chatelaine of Bolugayen?’

  ‘I have endeavoured to do my duty,’ Anna said. ‘I would have enjoyed it more had Colin been here with me.’

  ‘Yes,’ Dagmar said with some satisfaction. ‘However, I doubt he will be returned before the summer. What is left of him.’

  Anna frowned at her, while an icy hand seemed to clutch at her heart. ‘What is left of him? What do you mean?’

  Dagmar addressed Igor. ‘What are you standing there for, fool? I wish tea.’ She stalked to the foot of the great staircase, and looked up it, at Olga and little Catherine, and at Yevrentko and the two boys, who had all emerged on to the gallery to see what the excitement was about. ‘My husband has been very badly wounded, in Warsaw.’

  ‘Oh, my God!’ Anna cried.

  ‘Papa!’ Peter shouted, running down the stairs; Dagmar scooped him into her arms. Olga clapped both hands to her throat. Catherine began to cry. Georgei remained stony-faced, while Yevrentko looked terrified.

  ‘I must go to him,’ Anna said, herself hurrying for the stairs.

  ‘I would think that a considerable waste of time, as you would not be allowed to see him,’ Dagmar told her. ‘He is also under arrest, on a charge of treason. Together with his other concubine, Jennie Cromb.’

  Anna, already halfway up the stairs, stopped and turned to glare at her sister. ‘Arrested? Colin? With Jennie? Jennie was never his mistress.’ It was more important to her to establish that than find out the truth of what was going on.

  ‘I do not suppose you are aware that there has been an attempt on the life of the Tsar. Colin and Jennie are implicated.’

  ‘You are a lying bitch!’ Anna shouted.

  Dagmar’s face was cold. ‘I must warn you, little sister, that I have had enough of your airs and your insults.’

  Anna went back down the steps towards her. ‘And you suppose you can come here, with your lies...’

  ‘Ah, Igor,’ Dagmar said. ‘Put the tea in the small parlour. Now go and fetch four of your men, and at the same time summon Monsieur Smyslov.’