‘No. You’re right. We should be thinking, not just rushing about.’
‘I think so, mademoiselle. And, may I stay? I think my master would wish it. You may be needing a messenger. For Warsaw? For Petersburg? Who knows?’
‘You would go?’
‘If you would trust me. My master told me that I was your servant, if you needed me.’
‘But your errand to Cracow?’
‘Oh, that!’ He snapped his fingers.
Chapter 16
‘It’s an odd kind of victory that calls for such heavy reinforcements,’ said Jan as he and Glynde returned from watching the Imperial Guard march through Petersburg on the way to reinforce the Russian army after the battle of Eylau. ‘They’ve been marching past for three days!’
‘Yes, I’m afraid it must mean great losses.’ Glynde was opening a letter. ‘From Granville at last! He thinks the Ministry of All the Talents is done for and the Tories bound to be back in office soon. Then we will see some action.’
‘And Granville back as Ambassador? I must leave you, Glynde. I promised I’d look in on the Richards.’
Left alone, Glynde reread his letter carefully, then looked up, surprised, as a frightened servant announced a messenger from Arakcheyev, the Tsar’s formidable right-hand man.
‘You’re to come to the palace,’ said the man. ‘At once.’
‘So late?’
‘At once.’
‘One moment.’ If only Jan were at home. He bent to scribble a quick note to him: ‘I’ve been summoned to the palace. By Arakcheyev. If I do not return, let the Ambassador know.’
‘Come,’ said the man.
Glynde rang for his valet. ‘I’ve been summoned to the palace. Give this to Mr. Warrington when he returns.’ Had he been afraid the messenger might destroy the note?
‘Yes, sir. The palace, you said?’
‘Yes. Arakcheyev.’ He thought the man changed colour. But there was no more time. He followed the messenger out to the closed sledge that awaited them.
He was ashamed to be afraid as he prowled the little receiving room that looked out over the ice-bound Neva. At last the door opened and the Tsar himself appeared, still in the uniform in which he had reviewed his Preobrazhensky Guard. ‘Forgive me for keeping you so long! No, no!’ He forestalled Glynde’s bow. ‘No ceremony! This is an informal meeting between old friends and travelling companions. It is hardly the weather for chance encounters on the quay, and you are not much of a courtier, Mr. Rendel. So – the mountain has sent for Mahomet. Tell me, what news have you from Lord Leveson Gower? I miss his honest advice. Can we really hope, do you think, for a change of government in England, and his return?’
‘It’s possible. I think he might well wish to come …’
‘Unfinished business? Well, let’s hope he does, for whatever reason. In the meantime, are you in a mood to travel, Mr. Rendel?’
‘To travel, sire?’
‘Yes. I leave, after the anniversary celebrations next week, for Memel, to confer with my friends the King and Queen of Prussia. Can I prevail on you and your American friend to come with me? I mean to travel fast, I warn you. Too fast for the court, which will follow at leisure, if we reach agreement and I decide to stay.’
He’s slipping the leash, Glynde thought. ‘I should be more than honoured to accompany Your Majesty,’ he said. ‘But I cannot answer for my friend Warrington, whose affairs may detain him here in Petersburg, though I doubt it.’
‘So do I.’ Human for once, the Tsar was immensely likeable.
‘It’s too good to be true,’ said Jan. ‘He’s leaving them all behind and taking us? What it is to be an absolute monarch.’
‘You’ll leave your affairs, and come?’
‘I should just about think I will!’
Since the service that celebrated Alexander’s accession and six years of rule inevitably also commemorated his father’s murder, it was not an occasion for unqualified rejoicing, but in the circumstances, the two young men thought it best to attend. They met Prince Ovinski outside the church. Glynde thought for a moment that he was going to avoid them, then he changed his mind, pushed his way through the crowd and greeted them civilly enough.
‘I hope you have good news of the Princess and your son?’ asked Glynde.
‘She is back at Rendomierz. She found the air of Warsaw stifling, she says. I begin to hope that if, as I rather expect, the Imperial Court moves west, come spring, it may be possible to arrange a family reunion. I long to see my son, who is everything that is promising, according to his mother.’ Was there the faintest hint of irony in his tone? Impossible to tell. ‘And you, gentlemen, will you follow the court, if it moves? I think we can expect a great confrontation this summer. An occasion not to be missed.’
‘I wonder just what he meant,’ said Jan afterwards. ‘I must say, I admired the way you dodged the question, Glynde. You’re wasted outside the diplomatic service.’
The Tsar was as good as his word. His small cortège covered the three hundred and twenty miles to Riga in a mere forty-eight hours. Two days later, they were in Memel, where Frederick William of Prussia and his Queen Louise were reduced to holding court, since Napoleon’s armies had captured Berlin and were threatening Königsberg.
They did not stay long at Memel. Sight of Queen Louise, her health destroyed and her beauty tarnished by misfortune, seemed to clear the Tsar’s mind, at least for the time being, of its habitual vacillation. Prussia and Russia signed a new convention at Bartenstein, and all the talk was of battle, of victory.
Emperor and King celebrated Easter together at Bartenstein as the armies massed for the great confrontation. The roads were drying rapidly, but still no word had come from the new English government. ‘It’s enough to make one want to join the Russian army,’ Glynde exclaimed to Adam Czartoryski, who had joined the Tsar’s court from his estate at Vilno, where he was occupying his new leisure in reorganising the University.
‘Don’t do that. I think you would live to regret it. But I agree, it is the greatest pity that your country is not more adequately represented here. And that they have not shown themselves more forward in providing help in this war.’
‘If only the change of government had happened sooner! It couldn’t have come at a worse time. But tell me, have you had recent news from Warsaw?’
‘All of it bad. And not very recent either. Napoleon’s bleeding them white for this new campaign, and giving them nothing but promises in return. From what I hear, this is beginning to be noticed, dissension is breaking out. Between Poniatowski and Dombrowski, for instance.’
‘And Kosciusko?’
‘Sits in Paris and asks for guarantees from Napoleon, like a sensible man. It’s horrible to think that when it comes to a battle, there will be Poles serving on both sides.’
‘Is it true that the Prussians have conscripted the minor Polish nobles in their territory?’
‘The schlachta? Yes. It’s always the small men who get hurt. Mind you, there is something a little comic about a nobleman who wears his sword while he ploughs his one-acre field. But there’s nothing comic about the Bartenstein convention from Poland’s point of view. It’s the end of my hope for an independent kingdom.’
‘I’m surprised you’re here,’ said Jan.
‘I am still the Tsar’s old friend. When he wants me, I shall always be there. I think he is going to need all his friends.’
Every chest in the palace had been opened; every closet explored, and still there was no sign of the little Prince. ‘It’s no use,’ the Princess said at last. ‘We have to face it: he’s been taken.’ She had sent for Jenny to her own rooms, from which Prince Casimir had vanished.
‘The Brotherhood?’
‘I really believe I hope so. You don’t ask how.’
‘No. Olga told me about the secret passage.’
‘Olga knows?’
‘Marta told her.’
‘So we have to assume that the Brotherhood know.’
>
‘If Olga did? You’re right. I had not thought of that. So it is almost certainly they. Surely they’ll never hurt him?’
‘No, but they’ll use him.’ The Princess was crying slow, angry tears, something Jenny had never seen before. ‘Send for Lech. He must be punished. I’ll make him sorry he was born to betray my trust like this.’
‘But…’
‘His instructions were not to let the Prince out of his sight,’ said the Princess implacably. ‘He’ll never disobey me again. I doubt he’ll live to. Not after the beating he’s going to get.’
‘But, Isobel. They were playing … Safe in the palace, as he thought …’Jenny had seen the savage side of the Princess a few times before, and done her best to forget it. ‘Casimir loves Lech,’ she said now. ‘He’ll mind.’
‘He would, perhaps, if he were here. He’s not. Disobedience must be punished, wherever it appears.’ Was it a threat? Jenny rather thought so.
In this bitter weather, punishment was administered in the main hall of the palace. Lech, weeping but unsurprised, had bared his back for the knout. Jenny, compelled by the Princess to watch with her from the head of the great stair, winced, closed her eyes as the first savage blow fell, but could not close her ears. Not a sound from Lech, but a shudder of horror among the servants massed in the hall. Lech was much loved.
Another blow; another. Lech let out a kind of animal grunt. I cannot let this happen, Jenny thought. I have to do something. She opened her eyes. Blood streaming down Lech’s back … the knout rose for the next stroke. She caught the Princess’s arm. She had not meant to. ‘Highness, no!’ She had not meant to speak either, and most certainly not so loud.
The executioner paused in his stroke, looking up in surprised question at Jenny, at the Princess, and Jenny, even in this moment of crisis, found time to be amazed that he had done so.
‘Do your office,’ said the Princess coldly. ‘And you,’ to Jenny, ‘be quiet if you do not wish to join Lech.’
Jenny opened her mouth, but no sound came. The executioner’s arm went up again. The hall was in silence, suspended. And the front door burst open, knocking down the people in front of it, letting in a blast of cold air and a man in the black robes of a monk, his cowl pulled over his face. ‘Stop!’ He threw back the cowl, revealing a black mask. ‘Prince Casimir is asking for the man.’ He looked up to address the Princess. ‘And for a woman. Olga. If you want the Prince back, you will send them to him.’
‘Seize him!’ It was almost a shriek from the Princess.
‘I do not advise it.’ Nobody had stirred. ‘Touch me, and you lose your chance of getting your son back. He is only a pawn still, Princess. Expendable. There will always be other pawns. He is on his way to Warsaw already. If you want him, you will go there, too, and await instructions.’ He turned to the serf with the knout. ‘Untie him.’ And then, to the silent group of women at the back of the hall. ‘Which one of you is Olga?’
‘Here.’ She stepped forward, with a terrified glance at the white-faced figure of her mistress, frozen at the head of the stairs.
‘Give him your arm. He’s faint.’ As Olga helped Lech to stagger towards the door, the messenger raised his head to meet the Princess’s blazing eyes. ‘We look after our own, Highness. Never forget that. You will hear from us when you reach Warsaw.’
Nobody moved. The front door closed behind the three of them.
‘We leave for Warsaw tomorrow,’ the Princess said at last, quite quietly, and Jenny breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Make the arrangements, Leon. And you, all of you. Get out of my sight!’
Madame Poiret tried to take Jenny’s arm. ‘Come along, dear, and don’t worry. She’s best alone for the moment, poor lady. She’ll be better in the morning; forget it all when she gets the little Prince back. Please God!’
‘Yes. I’m so glad he’s got Lech and Olga. I’m sure they won’t hurt him.’ But what did Madame Poiret know about the Brotherhood?
‘But they might keep him. His captors. If she doesn’t do as they bid. Bring him up as one of themselves. Try and convince her, when she sends for you, that she must swallow her pride and do everything they say.’
‘It will be hard for her. And –’ Jenny faced it ‘– I’m not sure she’ll send for me.’
‘She’s bound to blame you. Because of Olga. Because she’s angry. Because she’s never been crossed before. You must bear it, my dear.’
‘Yes,’ Jenny said bleakly. ‘I must, mustn’t I?’ She kissed Madame Poiret impulsively. ‘Thank you, madame. Now, I think I had better go and look to my packing, in case she wants me to go with her.’
‘Oh, she’ll want you all right. If only to quarrel with. Be prepared for a hard journey, my dear. I shall pray for you.’
‘Thank you.’ Alone in her room, Jenny tried to pack, tried to order her random thoughts, failed in both. Found herself actually missing Olga. If the Princess had given her the chance, she would have told her that she had recognised the Brotherhood’s messenger. He was the young man who had met her in the Greek folly on Prince Ovinski’s estate. He had been masked then, as now, and she had only seen him briefly, but was in no doubt about the voice, the aristocratic presence, the habit of command. He had asked her then if Casimir was Ovinski’s son. Passionately, now, she wished that she had been more positive in her answer. A pawn, he had called little Casimir. Suppose they were to decide he was also expendable?
‘Pani.’ One of the maids scratching at her door: a welcome distraction. ‘Leon says I am to look after you, now Olga is gone.’ She came forward, a young girl, fresh-faced, golden plaits hanging to her waist. ‘I thank God for you, Pani Jenny.’ She bent to grasp and kiss Jenny’s hands. ‘I am Lech’s sister. You risked your life for him, I think.’
‘I didn’t mean to,’ Jenny said, incurably honest. ‘I just … I’m so glad about Lech. That he’s safe. You’re his sister?’ She smiled at the girl. ‘What is your name? You don’t look much like Lech.’
‘Marylka, pani. No, it’s lucky. I think the Princess has forgotten that Lech and I are kin, and no one will remind her. Of that or of anything else. I was a child of the tunnel, you see.’
‘A what?’
‘You must know about the tunnel, pani? The secret passage to the family apartments? The way the poor little Prince was taken?’
‘Yes?’
‘You knew about Marta? That she was –’ she coloured ‘– kin to the Princess?’
‘Yes?’ What now?
‘It was not only the Princes who sent for serfs, pani. The Princesses did, too. My father, and Lech’s, was chief huntsman. Such a handsome man, until the vodka got him. He’s dead many years, rest his soul.’ She crossed herself. ‘His wife, Lech’s mother, was kind to me, brought me up as her own. Well, she was paid for it, so long as the old Princess was alive.’
‘The old Princess?’
‘The Prince’s sister. My mother. She never married. That’s why I had to be smuggled out through the tunnel. While she was alive, she was good to me. Had me taught French and a little Russian. Promised me a dowry. Just think, pani! I’m the little Prince’s cousin! Poor little man. But they’ll be good to him. They told me to tell you so. If his mother does what they tell her. Goes back to Warsaw. Stays there. They’ll look after you, too. They told me to promise it.’
‘You mean?’
‘I told you, pani. I’m to look after you, now Olga is gone.’
They reached Warsaw without a word being spoken between the Princess and Jenny. It was a horriblejourney, with the roads beginning to thaw and damp snow falling, and Jenny, banished this time from the Princess’s luxurious carriage with its built-in fittings and regular supply of hot bricks, wondered if she would have survived its rigours if it had not been for Marylka’s loving care. As it was, she arrived suffering from a heavy feverish cold and longing for her bed. But the Princess had arrived already, and Jenny was summoned instantly to her presence.
‘You’re to go and fetch him.’ Princess Isobel
was at her writing-desk. ‘Here are the written promises they demand. You are to give them my word on them.’
‘Should I know what they are?’
‘So they say.’ She was hating this. She put a hand on the paper she had just signed. ‘Not to try for vengeance. Not to question Casimir about them. Not to harm anyone involved in the business. Which includes you, you’ll be glad to hear.’
‘Thank you,’ said Jenny.
‘Don’t thank me. Thank them.’
‘Where must I go?’
‘To the White House, in the grounds of the Lazienki Palace. They will be awaiting you there. With Casimir, Lech and Olga.’
‘Olga?’
‘So they say. But I won’t have her. I don’t care what you do, how you do it, but don’t bring her back with you. The Brotherhood can find themselves another messenger.’
‘Yes.’ No need to say they had already done so.
‘You’re not well enough,’ Marylka protested, as Jenny wearily struggled back into her furs.
‘I’ve got to be.’
‘Then let me come with you.’
‘No, I must go alone. Just one footman, They said.’
‘I don’t like it.’
‘Nor do I. But there will be Lech on the way back. And the footman will be armed, of course.’ She had never been to the Lazienki Palace, where once Stanislas Augustus had held court, but knew that it stood isolated in its own gardens. No place for a woman alone. ‘They’ll protect me,’ she said to comfort herself as much as Marylka. ‘If they want Casimir to get back safely.’
‘I hope so.’ She fastened the wadded hood snugly under Jenny’s chin. ‘You should be in your bed.’
‘I wish I was.’ She was hot now; presently, she would be ice-cold again.
The Princess’s town carriage was awaiting her outside in the street. The footman held the door open for her.
‘You?’ It was Paul Genet’s messenger. ‘How in the world?’
‘Bribery,’ he said cheerfully. ‘The master told me to look after you, if you needed it. I reckon you do. I’m well armed, and can use them.’
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