Friendship's Bond

by Meg Hutchinson

  Constable Price handed her the sealed envelope but Ann was prevented from leaving by the inspector’s quick, ‘Miss Spencer, would you give me a minute in my office please?’

  ‘Good morning.’ A man dressed in grey pinstripe trousers paired with a knee-length grey overcoat, a high white wing collar and a dark tie rose to his feet. ‘My name is Sir Hugh Gresham. I have been sent to accompany you, that is if you will allow.’

  The inspector answered Ann’s dubious look. ‘Everything is quite all right I assure you, Miss Spencer. Things will be resolved much more easily if Sir Hugh is with you.’

  Deciding this must be usual or the police would not advise her to accompany this man, Ann allowed herself to be ushered out to the waiting automobile. The strangeness of being in a motor car for the first time kept her virtually silent as it sped along.

  How far was it to Stafford Prison? It seemed they had been on the move for hours; the scenery had long changed from the jumbled buildings of town to peaceful countryside. She bit back the question as the car swept between high-pillared gates leading up to a large gracious house, its tall windows framed in cream stone.

  Speechless, Ann stared at the huge entrance hall, its tiled floor set off with exquisite tables and voluptuous statuary. But it was the sitting room she was led into that made her catch the breath in her throat.

  Silver-blue damask draped each window, the folds touching a vast carpet of the same colour. Set around a large ornamental fireplace settees and deep armchairs echoed the same beautiful shade of blue.

  This couldn’t be Stafford Prison! Dazed and not a little afraid Ann watched Sir Hugh Gresham pull a tapestry cord hanging beside the fireplace.

  ‘I’m sure you would like some tea, Miss Spencer.’ He smiled affably then ordered tea and sandwiches from the manservant who answered the summons.

  The cup felt like paper in her hands. China this fine must cost a fortune. Ann’s hands trembled as she accepted the tea.

  ‘Miss Spencer,’ Gresham said, settling into an armchair. ‘Would you be kind enough to tell me everything you know about Alec Romney, how you came to meet him. Was he alone or with someone else? Please, I ask you to think carefully, try not to leave out any detail no matter how insignificant it might seem to you.’

  ‘Is Alec here . . . can I see him?’

  ‘All in good time. Now, if you would do as I asked.’

  ‘It was in St Petersburg, the Ploschad Morskoy Slavy . . .’ Speaking clearly and calmly she related every moment of the time she and Alec had spent together finishing with, ‘And that was when Alec was arrested.’

  He had listened without interruption then as Ann finished speaking said quietly, ‘That accords perfectly with what Alec himself has told us. Now I think you should see him.’

  ‘Alec.’ Ann was on her feet as the door opened and Alec entered the room. ‘Oh Alec, are you all right?’

  ‘Of course,’ he laughed, gripping her in a hug, ‘and you and Grandmother Leah, you are both well?’

  ‘Both happy you are coming home.’

  ‘Miss Spencer, there is something you have to know.’

  ‘Let me tell her.’

  Was there the air of an order in Alec’s words? Ann frowned at the deferential way the older man retook his seat.

  ‘Ann,’ Alec sat beside her, his hand holding hers, ‘I have not been honest with you. I am sorry for that but circumstances forbade it. You see before I left my home my father swore me to secrecy. He felt the nearness of the country’s revolt and feared for our safety, so it was decided the family would leave one by one, each of us at intervals and in disguise as peasants. That way the Bolsheviks would pay no attention; it was the upper classes their sights were set on. I was to be the first followed by my youngest sister Stasie who would go via a different port. But it seems someone, probably a British embassy employee, got wind of my leaving from the Square of Maritime Glory, hence what took place there. The man chosen to see me safe to England was your father but with his death that had to be changed.’

  ‘They trusted me, they trusted me as they would no other man . . . they asked I take into my keeping their most precious possession.’

  The dying words of her father returned to Ann.

  ‘You have to be wrong,’ she said, ‘my father was asked to carry a most precious possession but though I searched his home and even enquired at the British embassy if he had left anything there, I found nothing. Yet on that ferry it was demanded I hand over what I had taken from St Petersburg; but you know I had nothing of value.’

  Alec glanced at the older man then back to Ann. ‘It is you who are wrong, Ann, you had with you the whole time Russia’s most valued treasure.’

  ‘Alec, how can you say that! You must know I would gladly have given anything rather than have your life threatened the way it was.’

  ‘That was why I could not tell you,’ Alec said quietly. ‘You see, Ann, my name is not Alec Romney, it is Alexei Nicolaïevitch, son of Nicholas Alexandrovitch Tsar of all the Russias.’

  ‘The . . . the son of the Tsar!’

  ‘Indeed he is.’ It was Gresham who answered. ‘He is His Imperial Highness Alexei Nicolaïevitch, Tsarevitch and heir to the Romanov dynasty.’

  Ann frowned confusedly. ‘The newspaper reports, they said the entire royal family had been assassinated.’

  For a moment Alec held his breath as though struggling against overriding emotion, then with a supreme effort said, ‘All of the people taken to Yekaterinburg were as reported shot dead, but the one they thought was me was Mikhail Derevenko, the son of Dr Vladimir Derevenko who together with Professor Fiodrof was doctor to the royal family. They lived with us in the royal palaces of St Petersburg and Moscow; they accompanied us in the summers we spent at the royal residence of Tsarskoïe Selo. Mikhail and I were of the same age, we shared the same colouring and stature, so much so that often when I was bleeding or too ill to stand with my father at some official function Mikhail would take my place. He took it when I left to go with your father and as a result gave his life for me. Had I known . . .’ Alec paused, emotion once more threatening to overcome him. ‘Had I known what would happen I would never have left my family.’

  ‘The same ruse was used for Stasie,’ Alec went on. ‘Mikhail’s sister Anya exchanged places with her. Brother and sister for brother and sister. We thought it a grand game, better than we played in any of the royal palaces, this was a real adventure, one to tell the family about when we returned home. I know my father would not have allowed the children of Dr Derevenko to substitute for us had he the slightest notion things would turn out as they have.’

  ‘And your sister Stasie?’ Ann asked the question gently.

  ‘Is safe.’ Gresham smiled. ‘Her Imperial Highness the Grand Duchess Anastasia Nicolaïevna was brought safely to this country several months ago.’

  ‘But I still don’t understand.’ Ann shook her head. ‘How come you are here and not in prison?’

  ‘Sir Hugh?’ Alec looked at the man seated opposite.

  ‘The governor of that establishment is a close acquaintance of the Prime Minister,’ Gresham explained. ‘One evening while dining together he told the PM about a young lad held on suspicion of murder, a lad who claimed to be Russian. The PM confided the same to the highest man in the land.’

  The King! Ann’s insides tightened. The King had been told about Alec!

  ‘He ordered an immediate release adding that the boy must be brought here in strict secrecy where he could be questioned thoroughly; and to every question put to him he replied with instinctive accuracy, even details that could be known to none but the closest and most trusted family relatives. His Majesty is therefore convinced of the truth of his identity.’

  ‘I’m sorry I could not confide in you,’ Alec smiled, ‘but the risk to yourself was too great.’

  ‘We will find them, take what she carries and both will die . . .’

  The words screamed above the shrieking wind by a man trying to sna
tch Alec from the rowing boat lowered from the ferry returned to Ann as did the final words of the gypsy.

  ‘Kalo RAI, the Dark Lord searches for another . . .’

  It could only mean Alec! But this time the Dark Lord would be cheated of his prey. Looking at the boy with whom she had shared so many dangers Ann thought, I did what you asked, Father, I kept your promise for you.

  ‘Miss Spencer,’ Sir Hugh Gresham intervened, ‘what you have heard in this house must never be told to a living soul. There are still factions in Russia who would stop at nothing to see the Tsarevitch dead.’

  ‘Ann can be trusted completely,’ Alec put in. ‘She would never betray the friendship we have.’

  Ann squeezed the hand which held hers, the movement saying what words could not.

  ‘As you may understand,’ Gresham went on, ‘the Tsarevitch cannot return with you to the home of the woman he calls Grandmother Leah. He must stay now with his relations here in England where he will be guarded day and night. Suffice to tell that lady and any who ask after Alec that during his time in Stafford Prison he was claimed by his relations.’

  ‘But why did they not look for him sooner?’

  ‘The answer to that,’ Gresham went on, ‘lies in the fact that he was not aboard the steamer bound for England. When that was discovered it was thought he might have somehow mistakenly boarded the ferry plying between St Petersburg and Finland. But when that ferry sank in mid-channel leaving no survivors the trail went cold.’

  Taking Ann’s other hand Alec said quickly, ‘I hope this clears up the situation and though any hope of being with you and Grandmother Leah must be abandoned I know that the bond of friendship that we share will never be broken.’

  Chapter 38

  On the journey to Wednesbury in the motor car with Sir Hugh Gresham, Ann silently went over all that had transpired.

  Alec had said he wanted only to be an ordinary boy. She had smiled at this, saying he could never be an ordinary boy. He was Alexei Nicolaïevitch, heir to the Romanov dynasty.

  ‘You are Russia,’ she had said, ‘and when the bitterness is past and the wounds healed and the sorrows of that great nation are assuaged, then Russia will open her arms to you and carry you home.’

  As she alighted from the car at the path leading to Leah’s smallholding, Ann’s heart flipped when she passed the spot where Thomas Thorpe had thrown her to the ground and attempted to rape her. But the horror of that was over; never again would she come face to face with him. At the same time she must come face to face with Edward Langley. She must explain to him that what he thought of her was not true. She had not of her own wish lain with Thomas Thorpe. Chances were Edward would not believe her, would not even wait to listen to her explanation. Nevertheless she would try.

  She proceeded along the narrow path and yards from the gate of Leah’s house stopped at the sight of the tall figure. Daylight glinted on hair the colour of ebony.

  Edward. She stood as if rooted to the spot but he was already running to meet her.

  ‘Edward,’ she said, ‘I have to tell you—’

  ‘No.’ Edward cut her short. ‘There is only one thing I want to hear from you. Do you love me? Will you be my wife?’

  Caught in his arms Ann knew her journey was truly ended.

  From now on she would live in the love of Edward, of Leah and of the young lad she had left behind in that grand house; she would be content in the knowledge friendship’s bond would never be broken.