The Amber Keeper

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The Amber Keeper Page 23

by Freda Lightfoot


  ‘Why, didn’t you receive my note?’

  ‘By the time I did, I couldn’t get away.’

  ‘You surely could have sneaked out, if only for half an hour or a few minutes.’

  ‘Without her permission, as you did? Then I’d have lost my job too.’

  ‘So you cared for your job more than me?’ My disappointment at his non-appearance was beginning to turn into resentment, despite the logic in his words.

  As if reading my thoughts he took my hands in his and began to kiss each fingertip in that tender way of his. As always, I melted a little inside at his touch.

  ‘You know I would have come, Millie, given half a chance, but it just wasn’t possible. The Countess kept me within her sight all day and every day, a deliberate tactic on her part to prevent me from coming to you.’

  ‘So she hasn’t forgiven me? Have you asked her to take me back?’

  He looked slightly depressed by the question. ‘I tried, but she really doesn’t like anyone interfering in her decisions, and she’s been even more moody than usual lately. In any case, why would she listen to me?’

  ‘You know very well why: because she adores you, lusts after you.’

  Stefan burst out laughing, a rather hollow sound that echoed deep in my heart, filling me with suspicion. ‘Has she been pursuing you again?’

  He gave a resigned sigh. ‘Don’t ask, Millie, it will only upset you. You are the girl I love. Always remember that.’

  I felt a warmth flow through me at his words. How could I think he would let me down? He loved me, and nobody knew better than I how difficult Countess Olga could be. ‘If you truly do love me, you should threaten to leave yourself if she doesn’t agree to give me my job back.’

  Stefan looked seriously concerned by this request and was silent for some moments before eventually giving a little nod. ‘All right, but I don’t hold out much hope.’

  Hope was something that completely drained away in the days and weeks following. I quickly used up what little savings I’d kept by me for emergencies, and with no wages coming in I was obliged to ask my dear friend Ruth for help. She was able to offer a small loan, but I was growing increasingly desperate. If I didn’t find employment soon, I would have to ask my parents to buy me a return ticket home. My adventure in Russia would be over.

  Stefan managed to escape the Countess’s control and visit me a few more times, but could offer no progress on my request for reinstatement. The Countess apparently refused to even discuss the matter. Close to despair, I decided to call at the flat on the pretext of asking how the children were, and if I could find the courage I’d swallow my pride and beg the Count for his help. It had to be done if I wasn’t to starve.

  I chose a time in the late afternoon when I knew Count Belinsky would be back from the Winter Palace and in his study dealing with estate affairs. Nyanushki welcomed me with open arms and a few tears, rushing to the kitchen the moment she heard I’d arrived.

  ‘Why did you leave, and so abruptly? The children miss you so much, particularly Miss Irina, who cries every day for you.’

  My heart sank at the thought of the little girl’s distress, perhaps thinking I’d deliberately deserted her. ‘It was not my choice. I was dismissed, Klara, you know that.’

  ‘You should have waited. She would have come round. Her ladyship generally gets over her tantrums in time.’

  ‘I’ve been gone a few weeks. Has she ever asked about me, where I am or how I’m surviving without work or wages?’ My question was met with a rueful silence. I hugged the old nanny and thanked her for caring. ‘Now, I need to see the Count. Is he in?’

  ‘Oh, yes, that is a good idea. He will help you.’

  My polite tap on his study door was answered at once, as always. No matter how busy he was, the Count never kept anyone waiting.

  ‘Millie, how wonderful to see you.’ The moment I entered he came striding towards me, his beaming smile so warm and welcoming I thought for a moment he might be about to envelop me in a bear hug. Fortunately, he grasped my hand instead with both of his own, his bright hazel eyes studying my face with grave concern. ‘You look a bit peaky. Have you not been eating well?’

  I laughed. ‘I wouldn’t say the food at the hostel is of the best, but I’ll survive, thank you.’ He patted my hand in that kind fatherly way of his. ‘I’ve been worrying about the children and . . .’

  ‘. . . wondering if they are managing without you? No, they ask all the time where Baryshnya is, and when you will be coming home. They miss you, Millie. What on earth possessed you to leave like that?’

  So he had no idea. ‘Didn’t the Countess explain?’

  He frowned and, gently leading me to a chair, invited me to sit. ‘I shall order coffee and biscuits, and then you can tell me the whole story from the start.’

  It was not a tale I enjoyed telling since I was obliged to admit to attending the demonstration without permission, even though the Countess had made her rules on the subject of time off clear from the start. ‘I thought it would be just a simple protest march about the price of bread on International Women’s Day. I need you to believe milord, that I am not in any way a revolutionary.’

  At this he put back his head and laughed out loud. ‘I never thought for one moment that you were, Millie, and I cannot imagine why my wife would accuse you of such.’ The laughter did not last long as his brow creased with anxiety. ‘There is talk that Lenin may return to Russia soon. Vladimir Ilyich Ulyanov, as he should rightly be called, has been living in Europe for some years, avoiding Russia out of fear for his own safety. But with the Tsar under arrest and the country in chaos, it is believed he may take the opportunity to return and lead the Bolsheviks to power. This would be welcomed by some sections of the populace, if not perhaps the more moderate. Whether he will succeed remains to be seen, but there is talk he is colluding with Germany.

  He gave a rueful smile. ‘I am aware that Russian politics is of little interest to you, dear Millie, but what I’m trying to say is that we could be moving into dangerous times, in which case I would wish to be certain that you are safe. Also, my wife is unwell, not at all herself these days for some reason. So with things the way they are, I have agreed to her taking yet another holiday. A little time out of Petrograd might be no bad thing.’

  Keeping my eyes lowered, fearful they might reveal the hope that had lit within me, I responded with a smile of my own. ‘I’m sure her ladyship will be delighted to hear that. She does love her holidays.’

  ‘Indeed, so long as you are there to care for my children. You know, Millie, how very important they are to me. You will stay, won’t you? Please don’t disappear again: we need you. I need you.’

  I looked up at him then, took in the untidy tangle of his brown hair as he kept running his fingers through it, and the tight line of his jaw. I’d never realised before what a very good-looking man he was, with his square intelligent face and powerful shoulder muscles, no doubt as a result of all the work I’d seen him do on the land. There was a gentleness to those hazel eyes and a caring quality about him that could not fail to touch any heart. He had certainly touched mine, as I knew that not only did I admire this man, I trusted him, perhaps with my life if what he’d just told me was true. With my own father many thousands of miles of way, I looked upon this man very much as his surrogate. Clearing my throat, I chose my next words with care. ‘I would be only too happy to return to my former post, but the Countess may not agree.’

  The gentle face hardened. His eyes narrowed and his wide mouth firmed with fresh resolve. ‘I’m sure you are aware that my wife and I have not been getting along too well lately. Not that we could ever claim to have enjoyed a good marriage, which was one of convenience, if truth be told. I wished to marry a young woman called Mavra Obelensky, but wasn’t allowed to as she had no money.’

  ‘Oh, that is so sad. You must have loved her
very much.’

  ‘I did what I considered to be my family duty, although my efforts to please my father came to nothing. He was very much a selfish autocrat, hard on his tenants, once evicting a recently widowed woman who had three children. I vowed never to be like him.’ The Count ran a hand through his hair again in a distracted sort of way, then quickly got to his feet. ‘Nothing quite turned out as I’d expected, especially where my marriage was concerned. But best not to look back. Since the past cannot be changed, where is the point in dwelling upon it? I believe in accepting the cards life deals you and focusing on the future.’

  ‘Quite right, sir, and at least you did enjoy some happiness with Mavra, however short.’

  He gave me the kindest of smiles. ‘I did, and thank you for listening. I still find it painful to talk about her. May I, Millie, offer you a piece of advice?’

  ‘But of course.’ I was standing before him once more, aware I shouldn’t be seated in his presence if he was not. ‘I would welcome any advice you could give me.’

  ‘I may be wrong but I suspect a fondness is growing between you and Stefan. If that is the case I would advise you not to reveal this attachment to my wife. She is a jealous, vengeful woman who craves attention, with a dangerous desire to possess what she believes should rightly be hers. It is not beyond the bounds of possibility that she dismissed you in order to clear the path for her own pursuit of this young man.’

  I was stunned by his words, so startled by his shrewdness and prescience that I could think of no suitable response.

  He turned back to his desk, a signal our conversation was drawing to a close, and his tone became brisk. ‘So far as your employment is concerned, you have my personal assurance, Millie, that my wife will make no protest whatsoever, once I have pointed out how badly she needs your assistance.’

  And so it came about that I returned to the hostel only to collect my things, and by tea time I was sitting in the schoolroom with the children and Nyanushki, Irina cuddled up beside me and even Serge grinning from ear to ear, enjoying a wonderful celebratory reunion.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  So when were you planning to tell your husband, milady?’ We were on the train travelling south, occupying an upper bunk opposite each other, with Irina fast asleep beside me. I was finding sleep impossible due to loud conversations going on all around us in the overcrowded train, so I thought it as good a time as any to force my mistress to face reality.

  The morning we’d left she’d sat on the edge of the bath with her head in her hands, having spent the previous half hour throwing up. ‘Something must have disagreed with me. It will pass.’

  ‘Of course, milady,’ I’d politely responded, wondering how much longer she hoped to keep up the charade. I’d watched this performance for the better part of a week, and young and naïve as I was in most other matters, it was pretty clear to me what the problem was. It would explain why she’d been feeling below par lately, and was constantly in a foul mood. The moment had come to confront her with my conclusions.

  My impudence was rewarded with one of her fierce glares. ‘What do you know? You are but a young girl.’

  ‘It’s fairly obvious, considering the morning sickness you’ve suffered.’

  ‘Well then, now you understand why I was so desperate to get away. I’m nearly five months gone so can’t disguise it for much longer, and Vaska must never know, so keep your prattling mouth shut, Dowthwaite.’

  I fell silent, a sensation of anger on the Count’s behalf consuming me. I remembered the terrible row that had taken place between them before we left, when he’d walked into his wife’s boudoir while we were packing. If he had any suspicions about the cause of her alleged illness, he gave no sign of it as he attempted to do the right thing for us all in difficult circumstances. His expression had been sombre as he’d outlined his plans.

  ‘The entire city is in the hands of the revolutionists, including all transport. The telephone isn’t working either, so I’ve decided to go to our country estate near Luga as I’m concerned over what might be happening to my property. I am, after all, responsible for the zemstvo hospital there, and the local schools. Also, with most of the men at the front it’s mainly the women who have been left working the land so I must make sure they can cope. However, as agreed, you may take your holiday, Olga, if that is what you wish. France is still out of the question, so it will have to be the Crimea again. Serge will come with me.’

  ‘No!’ It was the most heartfelt cry I’d ever heard from her, followed by floods of tears.

  The Count appeared entirely unmoved. ‘Only by keeping my son with me can I be certain you will return. I have arranged for the carriage to be brought round at six tomorrow morning to take you to the station. I trust you can be ready by then?’ He’d half glanced at me as he asked this question, knowing that most of the packing fell on my shoulders, although for once my mistress was taking a personal interest in the task, almost as if she believed she might not be returning. I’d quickly inclined my head, but before I could say a word the Countess exploded with rage.

  ‘How dare you attempt to control me in this way! Serge is my son, and should stay safely by his mother’s side.’

  ‘This is not about his safety as he’ll be perfectly fine on the estate. This is about you and me and our disastrous marriage. Were I to agree to grant you a divorce, which I’m not inclined to do as I will not allow you to steal my son from me, we can make no decisions while this current political instability continues. Nor do I want him anywhere near your lover.’

  The Count didn’t normally make a habit of arguing with her, generally choosing to walk away and avoid conflict, but this was one occasion when he clearly meant to stand firm. As he turned to leave she leapt at him, grabbing his sleeve to yank him around and slap his face with the flat of her hand. It was quite a crack but he showed no reaction, seemingly impervious to her bullying. ‘Don’t ever walk away when I’m speaking. Dimitri, my lover, would make a much better father than you ever have.’

  Sadly, he shook his head. ‘I may not have been the best of fathers, shut out as I was by your possessive nature and jealousy, but I hope to rectify that by spending more time with my son in future. We’ve been enjoying going fishing together, and thanks to Millie’s efforts he has overcome his fear of horses. I intend for us to pursue other country sports, as well as involve him in the running of the estate. Take good care of Irina while you are away. See that no harm comes to her.’ He looked up, including me in this plea.

  ‘She will be well taken care of, milord,’ I assured him.

  ‘Thank you, Millie,’ he said, with his ready smile.

  ‘Damn you, Vaska. You haven’t even given me sufficient funds for this holiday, although you know I am unwell and need care.’

  He let out a heavy sigh. ‘Money was ever your god, Olga. But you have plenty of your own money so hardly need any of mine, which I prefer to use to help people who are truly in need.’

  ‘I am in need. You know that I have very little left.’

  He laughed. ‘That is the irritating thing about money, is it not? Once you have spent it, it has gone. I should warn you that even if I eventually give in to your demands and agree to a divorce, you would not receive a large settlement. I’d rather give away every rouble and kopek I possess than see you waste it on your fripperies and many lovers.’

  On that startling note this time he did walk away, without a backward glance. The Countess picked up a crystal vase that was close to hand and flung it after him. It hit the closing door, smashing into a thousand shards of broken glass.

  At dawn the following morning we’d set out for the station in the carriage, a trail of carts carrying the Countess’s many possessions following on behind. Her mother, dear Babushka, chose not to accompany us, the journey being too much for the old lady. She elected instead to go with her son-in-law to the country estate, which was just as well in t
he circumstances. I rather suspected the old lady knew far more about her daughter’s state of health than she was prepared to admit, but really had no wish to be confronted with the reality of it. Nyanushki also stayed behind to care for her, and for Serge too. Stefan’s services, too, were required to drive the Count to the country.

  So the dreadful Olga and I were alone, apart from Irina and a handful of servants. It was not a prospect that appealed, and the weeks ahead stretched before me like an empty desert.

  If the Countess’s future plans included the hope of marriage with her lover, she was soon to be disappointed. At first when we arrived in Yalta everything was as normal. The Countess went out every day, visiting her lover at his hotel and socialising with their friends. Irina and I happily occupied ourselves with lessons, playing in the gardens or on the beach, although it was a little too cold for swimming at this time of year.

  But then one day she came home in a terrible temper, slamming doors, shouting and stamping her feet before bursting into tears. Yet another show of hysterics. What a madam she was. Stifling a sigh I went to fetch her a glass of vodka, which was generally required at these moments of stress. ‘What is wrong now, milady? Has someone upset you?’

  ‘He has gone.’

  ‘Who has?

  ‘Dimitri, who else?’ she screamed as tears flowed, although they seemed to be more out of anger than genuine distress. ‘I received a letter yesterday from Vaska, again insisting there would be no divorce. I showed it to Dimitri, explaining that even if my husband did finally grant me one, there would be little money.’

  ‘Oh dear, was that wise?’

  ‘Clearly not, as he’s left me, disappeared, vanished like a puff of smoke on a cloudy day.’

  ‘So what will you do? Where does that leave you?’

  ‘Stuck in this awful marriage. Apparently I’ve little choice but to make the best of things and carry on.’ And giving a loud wail, she sank down onto the Persian rug, lay on her back and began to drum her heels like a two-year-old engaging in a tantrum.

 

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