Zadruga

by Margaret Pemberton

  Natalie had wept unashamedly, pressing her tear streaked face against Bella’s soft fur. There would be no marriage now between Sandro and Olga, no alliance between the once mighty Romanovs and the House of Karageorgevich.

  From the war fronts the news had never been so optimistic. In August British forces broke through the German lines in France and the Kaiser began to talk in terms of ending the war. In September Allied forces, among them the Serbian army under Alexander’s command, launched an offensive against the Bulgarians and sent them hurtling into a massive retreat. The Bulgarian government requested an armistice and on 29 September, in Salonika, Bulgarian peace delegates agreed to the cessation of all hostilities between Bulgaria and the Allies.

  In October came the most wonderful news of all as reports reached London that Alexander had marched his troops once more into Belgrade.

  In the chaotic, wonderful weeks that followed no news, not even the news of the German surrender, filled Natalie with as much joy and euphoria.

  ‘And Julian will soon be home,’ Diana said to her ecstatically as all over London – all over Britain – church bells rang.

  Natalie forced a smile. She wanted Julian home with all her heart but her longing to see him again was mixed with unspeakable dread. When they were reunited she was going to have to tell him about Nicky. It was something she had never intended doing but she now had no choice. She had missed her period and was intuitively sure that she was carrying Nicky’s child.

  Chapter Seventeen

  It seemed that every day there was momentous news. Royal crowns began to fall like confetti; the Kaiser abdicated; King Ferdinand of Bulgaria abdicated; Emperor Karl abdicated and with his abdication the Habsburg Empire, mighty for over a thousand years, finally disintegrated.

  Nicky was ecstatic. ‘Four new nations have been born,’ he said to Natalie as they walked across a flag-bedecked Piccadilly Circus. ‘Four! Just think of it, Natalie! Half of Europe is being given a completely fresh start. Austria has declared itself a republic, the Czechs and Slovaks have united, the Hungarians are now a separate nation and Croatia… Croatia is free!’ Jubilantly he circled her waist with his hands lifting her off her feet, whirling her round and round.

  Passers-by smiled indulgently. Young men were returning home from battle fronts in their droves and joyous public reunions were commonplace.

  Despite all her inner anxieties, Natalie laughed back at him with sheer joie de vivre. Not only was Croatia free; so was her beloved homeland. Sometime over the next few weeks, perhaps even the next few days, Nicky would travel with other London-based supporters of the Yugoslav Committee to Belgrade in order to establish a National Assembly under Alexander’s regency. When she had spoken with Julian she would either travel to Belgrade with Nicky or, if he was already there, join him.

  ‘Now that Montenegro and Bosnia-Herzegovina have also voted for union with Serbia it’s important the unions are ratified as soon as possible,’ Nicky continued, setting her back down on the pavement and beginning to walk towards Regent Street again, one arm still securely around her waist.

  At the mention of Montenegro a pensive expression entered Natalie’s eyes. King Nikita had been one of the many kings to be forced into abdication and when she had read the news in The Times she had found herself thinking of Zorka, the aunt she had never known but to whom her mother had been so devoted. Zorka had been King Nikita’s eldest daughter and she couldn’t help but wonder what Zorka would have thought if she had known that one day her father would be dethroned in order that Montenegro could be united with Serbia and that her son, as Prince Regent, would rule over that union.

  ‘Why is it important that the unions are ratified as soon as possible?’ she asked, dragging her thoughts back to the present, her hip pressed close against his as they walked along the crowded street.

  ‘So that we are in a strong position to prevent our Allies carving up our borders to suit themselves,’ Nicky said dryly. ‘Mercifully Prince Alexander is already in Belgrade and Ante Trumbich and other Yugoslav Committee members are already on their way there. They won’t allow any time to be wasted…’

  Natalie was no longer listening to him. She was wondering how long it would be before Julian returned home and she was wondering if her decision to speak to him about the baby, before she did so to Nicky, was quite as sensible as it had first seemed.

  ‘Nicky…’ she began hesitantly.

  ‘… and before Christmas the Kingdom of Serbs, Croats, and Slovenes will be official,’ he concluded, grinning across at her.

  She wanted to tell him about the baby but as his near-black eyes, brilliant with exultation, met hers she couldn’t bring herself to do so. Julian was the one who must be told first. He was the one who was going to be devastated by the news and even more devastated by the decision she had made to return to Belgrade with Nicky.

  A bus trundled past them bearing the mock sign ‘To Berlin: Fare 1d.’

  She had thought and thought about the situation she was in and she couldn’t see any other solution. She had married Julian for no other reason than to save her parents the distress of being parted. Julian knew that and had happily accepted it. He had told her categorically that he didn’t intend applying for a posting to Belgrade and, now that the war was over and there was nothing to stop her returning home, she knew his decision was one with which she couldn’t possibly live.

  She had to return home. All through her childhood she had lived as an exile and all through her childhood she had vowed that, when the day finally dawned when she stepped on the soil of her homeland, nothing would persuade her voluntarily to leave it. And she had not voluntarily left it. She had been forced to leave because of a whole series of unfortunate events, events that were now history.

  She looked across at Nicky’s profile, at his olive-toned skin and high Slavic cheekbones. They were both South Slavs; both Balkan. Nicky would be rewarded for his years of loyalty to the Yugoslav Committee members with a position in the new National Assembly. As his wife, and as a Karageorgevich, she would be actively involved in the organization and development of the new kingdom. Belgrade would be their home and the child she was carrying would be born there.

  The happy drift of her thoughts came to a sudden and sickening halt as they always did when this point in her reverie of the future was reached. What of Stephen? She couldn’t possibly leave him behind. For the hundredth time she tried to think as to what Julian’s reaction to the problem would be. She was almost sure that he wouldn’t try and deprive her of Stephen. He was too generous-hearted a man to behave in a manner that would cause not only intense suffering to her, but to their child also. Perhaps he would suggest that Stephen visit him once or twice a year?

  As she considered the possibility she began to feel optimistic again. She might even be able to accompany Stephen on his visits to Julian. Though they wouldn’t, of course, be able to be lovers any more, they could still be friends. She couldn’t imagine not being friends with Julian. It was impossible. He had saved her from four tedious years of living in Geneva with her mother; he had been her comfort and her solace; he had never let her down and that he would do so now was unthinkable.

  He came home the week that Alexander, as Prince Regent, officially announced that Serbia had ceased to exist as a separate and independent entity. His words when he had done so had been stiffly formal, as the occasion demanded, but emotive.

  I am convinced that by this act of union I am fulfilling my duty as a ruler. I am carrying out that for which the best sons of our blood, of all three religions, all three names, on both sides of the Danube, Sava, and Drina began to work during the reign of my grandfather, that which corresponds to the desire and views of my people and so, in the name of His Majesty King Peter, I proclaim the unification of Serbia with the lands of the independent State of Slovenes, Croats, and Serbs in a single Kingdom of the Serbs, Croats, and Slovenes.

  Natalie had read a report of his speech in The Times, tears running down h
er face. Everything so many hundreds of thousands of people had dreamed of for so long had finally come to pass. Sandro was no longer merely Prince Regent of a land-locked Serbia, he was Prince Regent of a country whose borders exceeded even those of Tsar Stephen’s medieval empire. Though dynasties far mightier than the Karageorgevich dynasty had fallen as a result of the war, the Karageorgevich dynasty had not even tottered and now it was greater than it had ever been before.

  She had looked at a newspaper photograph of Sandro and been proud. She had also been shocked. He was no longer the Sandro she remembered. Instead of the handsome young man who had laughed easily and often with her, he was prematurely middle-aged and sombre. She reminded herself that the photograph had been taken at a solemn moment, when laughter would have been grossly out of place, but looking down at his face she knew that wasn’t the reason for his totally changed demeanour.

  The Sandro who had been her friend before the war, no longer existed. The burden of seeing his country ravished by the enemy, the dreadful trek he had undertaken when ill, across the Albanian and Montenegrin mountains to the Adriatic, the pain he must have suffered on hearing of Olga’s murder at the hands of the Bolsheviks, had all taken their toll. It was no wonder that he now looked sombre and grave. With terrible intuition she knew that for Sandro, the days of teasing and laughter were over and would never come again.

  Though the war had also taken its toll on Julian, there was nothing sombre in either his demeanour or his expression when he walked into the Fielding town house, calling her name.

  She had been in the nursery, kneeling on the floor and trying to piece together the rails of a train set while Stephen had his afternoon nap. At the sound of his voice she leapt to her feet, pieces of rail track scattering around her. With a disquieting sense of déjà-vu she raced along the corridor to the head of the stairs, just as she had done when he had arrived home on his last leave. Then, though, she had not been the mistress of another man. And she had not been pregnant. Pushing both thoughts to the back of her mind she ran down the stairs towards him, wings on her heels.

  He hurtled up the stairs two at a time, meeting her on the first landing.

  ‘Natalie! For Christ’s sake! Natalie!’

  His arms closed round her. She could feel his heart slamming against her own; smell the nearly forgotten odour of khaki and the faint, more dearly familiar smell of lemon cologne.

  She tried to speak and couldn’t. Now, and only now, she acknowledged how fearful she had been that this moment would never arrive and that, instead, a telegram would be delivered telling her that he was dead, as millions of others were dead.

  With eyes shining she clung to him, seeing the liberal flecking of grey at his temples and not caring, caring only that he had returned safe and all in one piece.

  ‘Natalie …’ he said again thickly, almost reverently, and then, his face transfigured by joy, he lowered his head to hers and kissed her with all the released, pent-up passion of three long, lonely, crucifying years.

  When she had realized that she was pregnant she had made up her mind that on Julian’s return she would tell him the news immediately, before he even attempted to make love to her. That way she would be behaving as honourably as was possible, under the circumstances.

  With his mouth hard and sweet on hers, and her arms hugging him tight, it no longer seemed quite as easy a plan of action as it had first appeared.

  He lifted his head from hers, grinning down at her. ‘You haven’t changed,’ he said, feasting his eyes on her heart-shaped face and the night-black curls springing free of her chignon and curling riotously at her temples. ‘I told your father you wouldn’t have changed.’

  ‘Papa!’ Gold-green eyes widened in stunned disbelief. ‘You’ve spoken with Papa? Where? When?’

  ‘In Salonika, before I boarded ship for home. He was also about to board ship, but for Corfu.’

  ‘What did he say? Was he well? Has he been injured? Is he going to take Mama and Katerina straight back to Belgrade?’ Questions tumbled from her. ‘Did he ask after me? Did you tell him about Stephen? Did you tell him how much I missed him?’

  ‘He was as well as can be expected after the ordeal he’s been through,’ Julian said gently.

  She looked at him fearfully, aware for the first time of his own deep exhaustion, exhaustion his grin and passionate embrace had temporarily disguised. ‘Has he been injured?’ she asked again. ‘Has the war made him old?’

  Julian thought of Alexis, haggard and rake-thin. ‘I don’t think he’s been injured in any way that is permanent,’ he said truthfully. ‘Like all of us, what he needs is plenty of good food and rest.’

  With his arms still around her he looked down into the empty hall. ‘Where is everyone? I expected a brass band at the very least.’

  She giggled, feeling the years of separation sliding away into oblivion.

  ‘If I’d known you were coming home today I would have arranged for one. Your father is probably asleep in his study. Your mother and Diana are out, I don’t know where.’

  She couldn’t help satisfaction creeping into her voice. She was glad that they were out; glad there was no-one to intrude on their reunion.

  ‘I must go down and see Pa,’ he said, still keeping both arms firmly around her. ‘But before I do, I have news for you.’

  ‘Good news?’ Her heart leapt. ‘About Papa?’

  His eyes laughed down into hers. She could see flecks of gold in the pupils; see her own face reflected back at her.

  ‘Your father is arranging for your mother and Katerina to travel by sea to Nice. We are to meet them there.’

  She gasped and if he had not been holding her so securely, would have fallen. ‘When? How soon? Why is Papa arranging for a reunion in Nice? Why hasn’t he asked us to travel to Belgrade and to meet with Mama and Katerina there?’

  He said smoothly, ‘Because Belgrade is still in chaos and will be for several months. Not only that, travelling overland through Europe is a virtual impossibility. There are no reliable rail services yet and the roads are thick with soldiers and refugees returning to their homes. If there is to be a speedy family reunion it’s going to have to take place somewhere we can all reach comparatively easily.’

  He tensed, waiting for her reaction. The last thing he wanted to do was to spoil their own reunion by being forced to tell her that no family reunion would ever take place in Belgrade, that she would never set foot in Belgrade again as long as she lived.

  Alexis had left him in no doubt of it. ‘Alexander’s policy is to ensure the world is convinced of the Serbian government’s innocence in the Sarajevo assassinations. A little over a year ago Colonel Dimitrievich was court-martialled and executed. Officially the charge was plotting a mutiny in the army but Alexander let it be known that the chief reason for the court martial was Apis’s known involvement with the Black Hand and the Black Hand’s strongly rumoured involvement in the Archduke’s assassination.’

  Julian had sucked in his breath, both shocked and reluctantly admiring of Alexander’s ruthlessness where his country’s honour was concerned.

  Alexis continued heavily, ‘In all the investigations that will now take place into the event that triggered off the war, Alexander is determined he and his government will emerge blame-free. That being the case, and knowing that somewhere in the Habsburg archives there will be a copy of Natalie’s extradition order and a statement from the officer who saw her with Princip, he can afford to take no chances.’

  His face had been anguished and his voice had cracked as he had said, ‘He has declared her to be persona non grata. She can never return home again.’

  Natalie smiled sunnily up at him, accepting his explanation totally. ‘When do we leave? Can we take Stephen with us? Will Katerina have Peter with her? Will Papa be there as well? What…’

  The front door opened and Lady Fielding entered the house. She gasped as she saw the kitbag on the marbled floor and Julian kissed Natalie swiftly on the mouth, relu
ctantly, released his hold of her and hurried downstairs.

  Natalie remained on the landing, her thoughts in such confusion she could hardly sort one from the other. She was going to see Katerina and her mother again! They would be able to tell her in detail, and far more satisfactorily than they had been able to do in letters, everything that had happened to them during their four and a half years separation.

  Hard on the heels of her joy came an agonizing dilemma. How could she now tell Julian about the baby she was carrying? He might not even accompany her to Nice once he knew. Even if he did accompany her, her mother would instantly realize that something was seriously wrong between them. And what if Julian told her what it was? Panic bubbled up in her throat. Her mother would have to know sometime, of course, but for her to know now would ruin their precious reunion.

  As Julian accompanied his mother into his father’s study, she frowned down into the again empty hall. For her mother’s sake she couldn’t allow their time in Nice together to be spoiled. Choice had, again, been taken away from her. Her confession to Julian would have to wait until their return from Nice. Which meant that despite all her good intentions her reunion with Julian would have to be a sexual one.

  An emotion suspiciously like relief flooded through her to be followed almost immediately by fresh anxiety. What if he noticed the difference in her body? What if he guessed? She ran the palms of her hands down over her perfectly flat stomach. She wouldn’t begin to show for months yet. When she had been carrying Stephen she hadn’t begun to show until she was over four months pregnant.

  With that anxiety taken care of her thoughts turned to Nicky. She wouldn’t now be able to tell him about the baby until after she returned from Nice and had broken the news to Julian. She gave an exasperated sigh. All she wanted was for life to be trouble-free and, instead, it persisted in being infuriatingly complicated.