Sonia’s head jerked, and she stood up. “His...?” she looked past the butler at Alexei, and gulped: Duncan was behind him. “Alexei!” She hurried forward to embrace him, and to her consternation he held her arms to keep her away from him, and kissed her on the forehead. “Why didn’t you let us know you were coming?”
“We wished to surprise you,” Alexei said, and released her, stepping past her to embrace his children, who abandoned their game to greet their father.
Sonia looked at Duncan, who did take her in his arms for a kiss. “Sorry to turn up like this,” he said. “But am I glad to see you. Here.” She frowned at him, uncertain what he meant. “Trish around?” he asked.
My God, Trish! she thought. But she couldn’t let her oldest friend down. “She’s out at the moment. She’ll soon be back.”
“Oh. Right.” It was his turn to be surrounded by children.
Alexei came towards them. “Shall we go inside? You chaps carry on with your game.” He led the way. “You are having unseasonably fine weather,” he said over his shoulder.
“It is pleasant, isn’t it,” Sonia agreed, following him, Duncan behind her. He knows, she thought. He knows something. Oh, my God! What to do? Keep calm, for a beginning.
Alexei went into the winter parlour, where a fire glowed in the grate. Dmitri was pouring champagne. “It is snowing further south, would you believe it?” Alexei asked. “The train was held up while they cleared the tracks. Thank you, Dmitri, that will be all.”
“I will inform Madame Rykova of your arrival, Your Highness.”
“Yes. She can make me up a bed in one of the guest apartments. Show Rotislav which one it is, will you. Duncan?”
Dmitri was looking to one and the other in consternation, while Sonia could feel the blood draining from her face; she had to sit down before she fainted. “Oh, tell Morgan to put me in with Mrs Cromb,” Duncan said. Dmitri hurried from the room.
Sonia opened her mouth to demand an explanation, then closed it again. She just could not speak. Certainly not in front of. Duncan, whom she hardly knew.
“May I ask where Patricia is?” Alexei inquired.
Sonia drew a long breath. “She’s out.” She looked at Duncan.
“And Nathalie?”
“She’s out, too. With Patricia. They’re out together.” Alexei handed her a glass of champagne. She certainly needed it. “Are they shopping?”
“Ah...yes. I think so. We were going to leave tomorrow, to come home. I was, anyway.”
“Were you?” Alexei sat down, opposite her, throwing the tails of his coat across his thighs. Duncan remained standing, awkwardly.
“Korsakov has come, and gone,” Alexei said.
“Korsakov? Oh!”
“You did not know he intended to visit Bolugayen?”
“I...” but she dared not lie; she had no idea what Korsakov might have told him. “He did write to say he would like to visit, to see Aunt Anna, but he didn’t specify a date. I did not think it concerned me.”
“Obviously it did not, as he wished to see Aunt Anna. May I see his letter?”
Sonia’s head came up. “I do not read your correspondence.”
“As I do not correspond with unattached women, there is no reason for you to do so.”
Sonia felt her cheeks burning. “I say, old man,” Duncan muttered.
“You may leave, if you wish,” Alexei said.
“Well...” Duncan looked at Sonia. He too was flushing.
“I would like you to stay, Duncan,” Sonia said.
“Oh. Ah...” He refilled his glass, and sat down, well to one side.
“The letter?” Alexei asked.
“I burned it.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Do you burn all your correspondence?”
“I burn correspondence for which I cannot see any future use, yes.” Sonia had regained her nerves. Things were obviously far worse than she had feared, but she was not a coward. She decided that the best, the only defence, was attack. “May I ask why you are interrogating me as if I have committed some crime?”
“I am trying to find out just what you have committed,” Alexei said.
“That is an insulting remark,” Sonia snapped, beginning to get angry.
“It is addressed to my wife. Will you answer me a straight question? Have you had an affair with Captain Korsakov?”
“That is also an insulting question,” Sonia said. “No, I have not.” But she could feel herself blushing.
“I see. Well, then, will you answer another question?”
“First tell me that you believe me.”
“I will tell you that when you have answered my second question.” Sonia glared at him.
“Have you visited this staretz, Rasputin, here in Petersburg?” Sonia bit her lip. If only she could stop flushing. “I can, of course, inquire of the servants, and others,” Alexei said. “I should not like to have to do that.”
Sonia sighed. “Yes. I have been to Rasputin’s house.” She gave a little shrug. “I was taken there, by Nathalie. She appears to be a great friend of the staretz.”
“I am sure she is. You may, of course, remain in this house until I have made all necessary arrangements.”
“You...” she could not believe her ears.
“I say, old man,” Duncan protested. “I think you’re jumping the gun. Did Patricia go with you, Sonia?”
Sonia bowed her head. “Yes. I think I am entitled to be asked what happened there.”
“What happens when women visit Rasputin is too well known, and too obscene, to be inquired about,” Alexei said.
“Nothing happened,” Sonia said. “I will swear it, if you wish. We were introduced to the staretz, and we did not like him. I did not like him, anyway. So I…I...we, left and came home.” She was short of breath.
“Well...” Duncan began.
“Say that you believe me,” Sonia said to Alexei.
“It is a matter to be considered. I shall...” He turned as the door was flung open.
Nathalie was as dishevelled as ever, but she was smiling in total triumph. “Alexei! How nice of you to visit Petersburg.” She looked at Duncan, frowning.
“Duncan Cromb, Your Highness,” Duncan ventured. “We met in Port Arthur, twelve years ago.”
“Of course. Anna’s son. And you now are Patricia’s husband. Patricia!” she called over her shoulder. “Your husband is here.”
“Duncan?” Patricia hurried into the room, and Sonia saw that she too was somewhat dishevelled. “Duncan!” Patricia said again. “You know I hate surprises.”
“Yeah. Well...” he looked at Alexei.
“It was my idea,” Alexei said. “May I ask where you have been?”
Patricia looked at Nathalie, who continued to smile. “We have been to the staretz.” She turned her smile on Sonia. “He asked why you did not come with us, this time, my dear.” Sonia could think of nothing to say. She wanted to hit the woman.
“You’ve been to this character?” Duncan asked his wife. “Why?”
Patricia pouted. “He’s exciting. And life is so dull.” Duncan was clearly at a loss for words.
“May I ask what happens when you visit this man?” Alexei asked, his voice deceptively quiet. He was apparently unaware that he was contradicting his earlier attitude.
“He is a holy man,” Nathalie said. “We go there to be absolved from our sins.”
“What sins?”
“Well, if we have no sins, he allows us to commit some, and then he absolves us.”
Alexei joined the ranks of the speechless, but only for a moment. “You mean you commit a sin with this man to allow him to absolve you.”
“That is what I mean, yes.”
Duncan stared at Patricia with his mouth open. Alexei looked at Sonia. “Rasputin has never touched any part of me but my hand,” Sonia said in a low voice.
“Ha!” Nathalie commented.
Sonia stood up. “And if you claim otherwise you are a liar,” she
said.
“Well, really! I am the Princess Dowager of Bolugayen. How dare you speak to me like that.”
Alexei felt in his inside breast pocket and produced the folded Sheet of paper. “Did you send this?”
Nathalie glanced at it. “Certainly not.” But there were pink spots in her cheeks.
“Patricia,” Duncan ventured.
“Oh, really, Duncan, it was just a giggle.”
Duncan licked his lips. “I would like to speak with you, alone.” He went to the door and opened it. Patricia hesitated, then shrugged and went through it. Duncan followed, closing the door behind him.
“I wonder if he will beat her?” Nathalie enquired.
“I would like you to go to your apartment, and wait for me there, Sonia,” Alexei said.
Just as if he were her father, Sonia thought. But she could not have a scene in front of Nathalie. She went to the door and opened it.
“Are you going to beat her?” Nathalie asked.
“I am going to get to the bottom of this matter, and deal with that scoundrel,” Alexei declared.
Sonia caught his arm as Alexei strode out of the parlour.
“Alexei, please. What are you going to do?”
“Deal with that rogue, for a start.”
“You cannot. Alexei, he has the ear of the Tsaritsa!”
“Is that supposed to concern me?”
“Alexei, you cannot call out a staretz!”
“I would not waste the time. But I am entitled to horsewhip any man who has debauched my wife.” He shrugged her hand away.
“Alexei, he has never touched me. Do you wish me to go down on my knees to swear that?”
“The servants are listening, and watching,” Alexei told her. “We will discuss what you will do, when I return.” He strode towards the porch, where Dmitri, having overheard the conversation, was waiting with both coat and whip.
“Alexei!” Sonia shouted, “I am begging you. Horsewhip me, if you must. But do not go there.” Alexei went out of the door.
“Well?” Duncan demanded.
Patricia went across the sitting room, opened the bedroom door, and threw herself across the bed, rolling on her back. “Are you going to beat me?” she asked.
“Oh, good lord, Trisha.” Duncan sat beside her. “Do try to grow up. Did you sleep with this lout?”
Patricia stretched. “How vulgar you are. One does not sleep with a staretz, Duncan: it is against his vows.”
“But not against yours.”
She had closed her eyes. Now she opened them again. “It would not have been an act of love.”
“Am I that unsatisfactory?”
“Darling?” She held his hand. “You were not here. It began as an adventure. Everyone goes to Rasputin. How was I to keep away? Especially when Nathalie had told him of me. Well, of us.” She sat up. “I think it is Sonia he really wants to get his hands on.”
“Get his hands on! My God, the things you say.”
“The truth! Are you so afraid of the truth? He wanted to, well...feel me up.”
“And you let him?”
“It was an act of admiration. And stimulation as well. And it could not be a crime.”
“Because he absolved you. An utter rogue and charlatan.”
“He is a staretz.”
“The sort of fellow who puts one off religion. Oh, Trisha, how could you?”
“Oh, dearest heart...” she put both arms round him and kissed him, used her strength to push him flat, and rolled on top of him.
“Trisha,” he protested. “Suppose someone came in?”
“No one has any business coming in,” she said. “Duncan, I did not mean to...well, have anything to do with Father Gregory.”
“Father Gregory!”
“That is his name, you know. I went, and Sonia went, because Nathalie wanted us to. As I said, she had apparently boasted of having the two most beautiful women in Russia both under her roof. So he wanted to meet us. Well, I was flattered. I expected nothing more than a meeting.”
“You did not know of his reputation?”
“Rumours. There are always rumours. Perhaps that made it more exciting. But I was quite sure I could cope with any holy man from the steppes.”
“Only you couldn’t.” He rolled her off him, but remained in her arms, as she was now in his.
“His eyes,” she said dreamily. “I do believe I was hypnotised.”
“You? Hypnotised?”
“When he stares into your eyes, anyone’s eyes, believe me, you lose all will-power. You wish only to please him. And you believe him, that whatever you do, whatever he makes you do, he will absolve you of the guilt.” Her eyes had been half shut. Now she opened them wide. “That is a very difficult proposition to resist.”
“So what exactly did he make you do?”
“He made me do nothing. He...well, as I said, he unfastened my blouse and put his hand inside. And he felt my bottom.”
“My God!”
Patricia squeezed the front of his trousers. “But the thought excites you. Do you know what he made Nathalie do? He made her, well...perform fellatio.”
Duncan sat up. “And Sonia?”
“Oh, Sonia would have nothing to do with him. When he tried to touch her, she walked out.”
“Thank God for that. Now listen.” He turned on his knees beside her. “You must tell Alexei that. You must make him believe that.”
“He won’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I think he is beginning to regret ever marrying her.”
“You can say that, about your own brother, and your best friend?”
“Sometimes it is necessary to face facts. And then there is the Korsakov business.”
“You’re not going to tell me Sonia actually did have an affair with that fellow?”
“No. She did not.”
“Well, that is something else of which you have to convince Alexei.”
“But she wanted to,” Patricia said. Why do you think I brought her to Petersburg? So she couldn’t go through with it.”
“And landed her in deeper trouble than ever. God, what a mess. As for you...”
“Aren’t you going to punish me? She fluttered her eyelids.
“Yes, I am going to punish you,” he said. “We are leaving for Bolugayen tomorrow. And once Alexandra gets there to be with Mom, we are leaving Russia and going back to England. This place is no good for you.” Patricia pouted, briefly. “But before we go,” Duncan said, “you have got to sort out Alexei and Sonia. Only you can do it. You have got to make them believe in each other again.”
“I’ve told you, I don’t think even I can do that.”
“You must try.”
Another quick pout, then she smiled, and held his hands, and drew him to her. “Let’s worry about them later. Duncan, I’ve learned so much, these past few weeks. Duncan, would you like me to show what I have learned? We’ve never done that. Don’t look so shocked. You would like me to, wouldn’t you? And I do want to.”
“Is it always as crowded as this?” Alexei asked the chauffeur, as the Mercedes edged its way into Rasputin’s drive.
“Always, Your Highness.” The chauffeur cleared his throat. “Have I Your Highness’s permission to speak?”
“Yes. What is it?”
“May I recommend...well, Your Highness, this man is really very powerful.”
“He is a staretz from the steppes,” Alexei said. “And I am the Prince of Bolugayen. Wait for me here.” The chauffeur bowed his head, and Alexei stepped down. The waiting drivers and chauffeurs looked at him with interest. As he was not a regular visitor to St Petersburg none of them recognised him, but they could tell at a glance that he was an aristocrat, and instinctively stepped out of his path. He marched up to the front door and banged the ornate knocker.
“You won’t get in that way, Your Honour,” ventured one of the watching men. “That door is only opened for the Tsaritsa.”
Alexei wa
s so taken aback he actually asked a question of an inferior. “The Tsaritsa comes here?”
“So they say, Your Honour. But if you wish to get in to see the staretz, you must use the side stairs.”
Alexei stepped past the men and looked at the side stairs. Then he went up, the riding crop tucked up against his arm. At the top he threw open the door and stepped into the antechamber, again paused in consternation, at the sight of all the women.
They were equally surprised, and several stood up, no doubt fearing he might be their husband, Alexei deduced. But several recognised him. “It is Prince Bolugayevski!” The whisper ran round the room.
Anton the major-domo advanced. “May I inquire your business, Your Honour?” He refused to concede a higher rank than that to an intruder.
“My business is with the monk Rasputin,” Alexei said.
“Indeed, Your Honour? Is it a petition?”
“It is not a petition.” Alexei stepped forward, and Anton hastily barred his way.
“You must wait your turn, Your Honour.”
“I am the Prince Bolugayevski,” Alexei announced. “And I wait for no man save the Tsar and the Grand Duke. And I find you exceedingly insolent. Stand aside.”
“I will have to see if Father Gregory can receive you, Your Highness,” Anton said.
For reply, Alexei pushed him to one side. Anton made to grab his arm, and Alexei turned, picked up Anton by belt and shirt front, and threw him several feet. The women screamed, and now all were on their feet, retreating against the wall as Anton struck a chair and went over with it, hitting the floor with a reverberating thud. Alexei opened the inner door and went in, leaving the door ajar. And for a third time in a few minutes checked in consternation, while the women, crowding into the opened doorway behind him, gasped.
Rasputin sat on the settee facing the door, a naked woman on his knees, while he caressed her stomach and between her legs. At the interruption, the woman gave a squeal of terror, and slid off his lap to kneel on the floor, hastily gathering her discarded clothing. “Jutta Svenkarska!” The whisper ran through the watching women and back to those unable to get a view.
“She has nothing on!” The whisper grew.
Rasputin stood up. He looked more irritated than concerned at the intrusion. “Do you have business with me?” he enquired.
The Red Tide Page 8
