Interrogate him, more like, and probably lock him in prison while they did so. I was utterly devastated at the prospect. Stefan and I might have our problems but not for one moment did I believe him capable of doing such a terrible thing. He might well be far more anti-gentry than I, a fervent advocate for democracy, and feel some resentment over the loss of his father, but I was quite certain he would never resort to violence. He was as much a moderate in his political views as the Count himself. Hadn’t I heard the pair of them discussing the situation more than once, generally in agreement?
The Countess herself had never shown any reticence in taking revenge. She could have decided upon an alternative way to be rid of her husband, and if Stefan had indeed rejected her advances, as he once claimed, might well be happy for him take the blame. If that were the case, it would explain her meeting with Ivan Lytkin. They could have been plotting together and not involved in a romantic assignation at all. Suspicion was strong in me, every instinct telling me I was right. But how could I prove it? With the country so unstable, anyone could have laid that bomb. Why would anyone suspect her of being the guilty party? She was the Countess Belinsky, after all.
And if she had already spoken to the police, time was of the essence.
The Count had retired, taking Serge with him, as the boy was, understandably, still in a dreadful state. Baby Katya was at last asleep, Nyanushki nodding in a chair beside her. Babushka was in the adjoining room and she and I shared a consoling hug as I took her a cup of hot coffee instead of her usual chocolate.
‘Don’t blame yourself,’ she said, shrewdly guessing the guilt I was suffering.
‘I’ll try not to.’
‘The blame lies with whoever planted that bomb.’
‘It’s been a long day. No reading tonight. You must try to get some sleep.’ I kissed her papery soft cheek, not wishing to explain that Stefan was the one being charged.
With everyone settled for the night I hurried downstairs to talk to him through the door of the laundry room, where he’d been locked up for the night.
‘Are you all right?’
‘I’ll survive.’
I prayed that he would, was not prepared to consider the alternative. ‘I don’t believe you’re guilty, not for a moment.’
‘Thank you for your support, Millie.’ His voice sounded hollow through the wooden panels, or perhaps from the terror he must be feeling. Once the police, or worse, the Bolsheviks arrived, he would be taken straight to the prison across at the Fortress of Saints Peter and Paul, a grim place from which few people emerged sane, if they were fortunate enough to come out at all.
‘I love you, Stefan, and I know that you love me in your heart, so please stop listening to the Countess’s lies. The Count and I were only picking up cake she’d tossed on the floor in one of her tantrums. There is nothing between us at all, beyond my gratitude for his support.’
‘I’m sorry for being such an idiot. You’re right; I do love you Millie, with every ounce of my being.’
Pressing myself against the door, I ached to see his face, to touch him, hold him, show how much I loved him. The longing to kiss him was overwhelming but the door remained locked, a wedge of solid oak between us. I couldn’t reach him, couldn’t get help, and soon the police would arrive and it would be too late.
An idea struck me. ‘Stefan, I think I know where the keys might be. Hold on while I go and look.’
Every kitchen has a small rack or cupboard on the wall where keys are kept, so it wasn’t difficult to find the hook marked ‘Laundry Room’. It was empty. Of course, the Countess herself would have it on her person, and I had no wish to attempt to steal it from her. But there must be another one somewhere, possibly in the butler’s pantry. The search took longer than I’d hoped but at last I found a duplicate key in the housekeeper’s old room. Within seconds of fitting it in the lock, I was in Stefan’s arms.
‘I love you so much,’ he said, after kissing me long and hard. ‘And I do believe you when you say the baby is not yours, but the Countess’s. Come, my darling, we’ll leave together, this minute. We’ll get as far away from this place as we can.’
‘But I need my papers, and to fetch Katya. I can’t leave her with a woman who doesn’t care about her.’
‘Then hurry. We mustn’t delay a second longer than necessary.’ Even as he told me this he kissed me again, as if unable to resist, and I certainly had no objection. It was then that we heard a small hiccup of laughter.
‘I do seem to make a habit of interrupting you two at your love making, or perhaps you unwisely choose the wrong moment or place. Was it you who let him out of the laundry room, Dowthwaite?’
I turned to face the Countess with every scrap of dignity I possessed, desperate to hide the tremors of fear running through me. ‘Why would I leave him locked up when I know him to be innocent? Those charges you made were groundless. Absolute stuff and nonsense! In fact, without too big a stretch of the imagination I could bring similar charges against you, milady. And since Russia is undergoing a revolution against the autocrats, the Bolsheviks might well choose to believe me rather than you.’
She was smiling, my words having made no impression; there was an odd twist to her lips as her eyes focused on something behind me. I half turned, just in time to see Stefan climb through the kitchen window and vanish into the night. It was then that I heard the hammering on the front door.
‘I dare say you’ve heard the news?’ I was sitting with the Count on a low wall by the bridge over the canal with the baby on my knee. We were watching the builders start to clear the rubble from the front of the apartment. Just across from us on the opposite bank were the onion domes of a nearby church glinting gold in the sun, a reminder of normality in a world that had been torn apart.
The Count looked at me with blank eyes, struggling to focus on what I was saying. At length he said, ‘If you mean that Stefan has gone on the run to escape arrest, yes, I was sorry to hear that.’
I nodded. ‘The police called first thing this morning to question and arrest him, but he escaped just in time. I want you to know milord, that Stefan was not responsible for planting that bomb. He loved Irina, and you too, as a matter of fact. He was ‒ is ‒ your greatest admirer. He would never harm a hair of your head. If anyone should say different, please don’t believe a word.’
He smiled at me then. ‘By “anyone”, I take it you mean my wife?’
Anxious though I was to protect Stefan, I answered with care. ‘I admit I find it hard to understand why she would believe him to be guilty.’
‘My wife’s motivation has always been difficult to fathom, save for her need for attention and money.’ He paused a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face. ‘And revenge. If Stefan has offended her in some way, that could be the reason.’
If the Count guessed that his wife had attempted to seduce her gardener-handyman and he had rejected her, so be it, but I wasn’t about to confirm his suspicions. Silence fell as we watched a boat chug by, stirring up the icy water. Despite the bright sunshine, temperatures had not risen a great deal. The sound of a wall collapsing brought our attention back to the apartment. Staring at the devastation and the cloud of dust surrounding it, our thoughts naturally returned to Irina. The Count quietly remarked, ‘She was my life.’
‘I know.’
‘I shall never stop loving her.’
Emotion choked my throat as I struggled to find the right words, if only it were possible. ‘She adored you too, and enjoyed a good life, if sadly far too short. Always remember that. And you still have a son.’ I had no intention of mentioning the Countess’s claim that she’d been pregnant with Serge by another man when she married the Count. Some secrets were best kept.
‘Serge is a fine young man, thanks to your efforts in dealing with those silly rebellions. Both my children have benefited from your service, as did I when you encou
raged me to take more of an interest in him. I am most grateful, as it seems to have paid off. Our relationship is much improved and I shall continue to do my utmost to be a good father to the boy.’
‘I’m glad. That is exactly what he needs.’
As I listened to the Count continue to sing my praises, an uncomfortable feeling began to grow inside me, for it sounded very much as if he was saying goodbye. Was he about to hand me my notice? It seemed highly likely now that Irina was lost to us and Serge was a boy of fourteen, nearly fifteen, hardly in need of a governess any longer. His next words seemed to confirm my worst fears.
‘I intend to tell my wife that she may have her divorce and a settlement, if a far more modest one than she would like. Our marriage is over, has been for a long while, but now it is time to call it a day. I intend to return to my country estate. Even though it is more of a communal project now, it is where I am happiest.’
‘Where will the Countess reside?’ We again glanced across at the builders who were carefully stacking stone that could be reused and loading the rest of the rubble onto carts to take away.
‘There are other cottages on the estate. She could have one of those. If she chooses to stay in Petrograd the apartment will eventually be restored and refurbished, and she’s welcome to remain there until such time as she finds a place of her own. I hope to take Serge with me to the country, if he’ll come. He seems to love it there. His inheritance will not be what it once was, but I’ll find a way to make a good life for him.’
‘I’m sure you will.’ I paused a moment before asking the question beating in my brain. ‘And what would you advise me to do, milord?’
He gave me one of his kindest smiles. ‘I do know the truth about this little one,’ he said, stroking Katya’s head. ‘I read between the lines when we last talked about her. The birth of this child is part of the reason I’ve called an end to our marriage. Olga is now quite beyond the pale. I’m sure she would claim she had every right to take a lover, but in my opinion none at all to give the child away. You may not be aware of this Millie, but Irina was not Olga’s daughter. She was the child of my mistress Mavra, the lady I told you of.’
‘I rather guessed that,’ I said, making no mention of the gossip that was rife among the servants.
‘I returned to her when it became abundantly clear my marriage wasn’t going to work. Mavra and I were very happy together, despite the difficult circumstances, but then she died in a horrific accident.’
‘What happened exactly?’
‘She drowned while swimming with a group of friends in the River Neva.’
A chill rippled down my spine as I recalled a similar accident almost happening to Irina, on that lovely autumn day all those years ago at Carreckwater. ‘How tragic. Did she go out too far? Who was with her at the time? Was the Countess present?’
‘Oh, yes, there was a large party of us enjoying a bright day of sunshine in early spring. What went wrong is difficult to say. Perhaps the coldness of the water gave her cramp but she unexpectedly got into difficulties. No one noticed until it was too late. My wife was in a boat nearby and did what she could to help, and brought Mavra ashore. How could I not take her child, since darling Irina had been so tragically orphaned? She was my daughter too, and I’d loved her from the moment she was born, if not before.’
I could find no response to this sorry tale as thoughts and suspicions raced through my head.
‘Sadly, my wife never cared for the child, which was only to be expected, I suppose. She was most neglectful, so it was a blessing when you came to work for us. Irina loved you dearly, worshipped you to such an extent that she sought to be like you, as young girls do.’
Tears were filling my eyes, blocking my voice. ‘I loved her too. She was a sweetie.’
‘A mother’s love had been largely lacking in her life until you came along, but thanks to your care all that changed, and she grew in confidence daily. I know now how important it is for a child to feel loved and safe. Having lost Irina, I would hate to see this little one suffer as she did. The Countess may have given birth to her, but she is now your child, and you will make an excellent mother.’
‘Thank you for your faith in me, milord.’ A huge sense of relief swept over me, the very real fear that I might lose Katya beginning at last to dissipate.
‘However, to help you cope with the inevitable expenses of raising a child, and because she is my wife’s offspring, however much she might deny it, I have created a trust fund in her name to secure her future.’
‘Oh, milord, I don’t know what to say, or how to thank you.’ I was regarding him in awe, his generosity leaving me quite speechless.
‘By rights I dare say we should seek legal confirmation, adoption and so on. But in the current climate that could take years. It would be far better if you took her far away from here, somewhere safe, and I know the very place. You will recall Carreck Place, once occupied by my late cousin . . .’
‘. . . late? You mean Lord Rumsley is dead?’ I interrupted.
‘I’m afraid so. A heart attack, I believe. His wife, son and daughter have moved to America, where they are happily residing in Boston.’
‘They’ve left their home in the Lake District?’ I could hardly believe what I was hearing. Perhaps I had assumed that nothing bad could ever happen back in England, as we seemed to be the ones suffering, caught up in a revolution. His next words took me completely by surprise.
‘Lord Rumsley never actually owned Carreck Place: I did. Or rather, I provided the funds for my cousin Charles to buy it. The man was an idiot, but family, you understand? Now I wish to give it to you, or at least to the child of my foolish wife.’ Kissing Katya’s cheek, he smiled down at the baby. ‘She deserves some recompense for being so abandoned. The house will be hers for life, and yours too, with a trust fund in her name to maintain it. What happens after that can be decided upon later, depending on which of us is still around by then.’
I was shaking my head in disbelief. ‘I couldn’t possibly accept it.’
‘Yes, you can, for little Katya’s sake.’
There were tears in my eyes now as I looked down at the baby sleeping contentedly in my arms. ‘I shall do my best to be a good mother to her. I love her already more than life itself.’
‘Of course you do. The house is standing empty. Go and revive it and turn it once more into a loving home. Find Stefan and take him with you.’
The Count smiled at my blushes, giving my hand a gentle pat. ‘I assume you and he will get together in the end. Find him, Millie, and leave together. Don’t stay in Petrograd a day longer than you need to. It isn’t safe. I ask just one favour: do not tell my wife any of this, not until you are safely established in Carreckwater. Perhaps not even then. There is safety in silence.’
There was a warning note in his voice and I found myself nodding, understanding completely what he was telling me.
‘Now I shall go and break the news to my wife that she is about to become a free woman.’
THIRTY-ONE
Leaving her grandmother in peace, Abbie went in search of Aimée, panicking slightly when she couldn’t immediately find her.
‘No sweat,’ Fay said. ‘She’s out on the lake with your father.’
‘Wow, really?’
‘I suggested he make some effort to get to know his new grandchild, give her a little more attention. He looked quite surprised by my suggestion, and a little bit thoughtful, but it seems to be working. He’s taken her and Jonathon out in the boat to teach them how to fish.’
‘Oh, my goodness, that’s wonderful!’ Her thoughts at once turned to the Count and Serge doing exactly the same thing, remembering how their relationship had developed as a result, and her heart warmed with affection for her father and for her sister-in-law. ‘You really are brilliant!’
Fay gave a wicked grin. ‘Still not quite there with
Robert, but making progress.’
‘Then I suggest you give me some advice, too, on how to handle my brother. Perhaps over a glass of wine?’
The two women were happily sitting chatting, baby Carrie playing at their feet, when the fishing party returned. It was very plain to Abbie, by the way Aimée giggled as her grandfather lifted her out of the boat, then happily took his hand to come over to them, that progress was most certainly being made there. Her daughter had clearly captured his heart.
Abbie’s mind was whirling. She understood now how the family came to be living in Carreck Place, and thought this might be the moment to reveal her own little secret.
‘I think Mrs Brixton has some fairy cakes and orange juice waiting for you in the kitchen,’ she said. And as the two children ran off, whooping with delight, she cast a sideways glance at her companion. Fay instantly picked up the message that she wanted a moment alone with her father and, announcing that Carrie too would enjoy some cake, hurried after them.
Taking a breath, Abbie turned to her father. ‘Dad, I’ve been meaning to say that I’ve been to see the solicitor.’
‘Ah, I rather thought you might.’
‘I needed John Kirby’s advice on extending the overdraft and it all came out.’ Pitching her voice low and carefully non-accusatory, she asked, ‘When were you planning to tell me that Mum had left me the shop and business?’
Letting out a heavy sigh, he came to sit beside her on the bench. ‘It’s hard to say why I put it off. I just couldn’t bear to speak of it for a while. It’s true that Kate had badly neglected the business in recent years and was in debt, with a large overdraft she’d never had before. But we do still have money coming in from land we let out to local farmers, which helps to maintain the house. Things aren’t quite as bad as Robert made out, although I know nothing of his personal financial situation. However, your mother’s decision came as something of a surprise, of which I didn’t entirely approve.’
The Amber Keeper Page 30
