An Innocent in Russia

by Barbara Cartland

  It was quite a comfortable one and she was glad that she had brought several books to read.

  She would have liked to have taken more books for the voyage, but her aunt’s lady’s maid who had helped her pack had insisted on filling her travelling case to the brim with clothes.

  “You don’t know what you’ll be needin’, miss, goin’ to them foreign parts,” she had said ominously. “From all I hears, it’s always snowin’ in Russia.”

  “Not at this time of the year, I hope,” Zelina had said with a smile.

  “You can’t be certain, miss,” the maid had replied.

  She obviously looked on Russia as an outlandish place and Zelina was inclined to agree with her.

  Then she told herself that she had to be sensible and, if she had to visit Russia, then she must learn about its history and, of course, appreciate the treasures that every book told her she would find there.

  But however hard she tried to force herself into being excited at what lay ahead, she was still apprehensive and worried.

  The wind increased during the night and by the morning, when the ship was not pitching and tossing, it was rolling uncomfortably.

  Fortunately Zelina was a good sailor and, finding her cabin to be rather hot and stifling, she put on her travelling cape and went up on deck.

  There were very few people about and she realised that it would be dangerous to walk for any distance. She therefore stayed watching the white-crested waves from the shelter of a doorway.

  The sea looked magnificent and Zelina was not concerned, except that she might get wet from the spray breaking over the deck.

  She stood there for a long time and then, as she turned to go inside, she almost bumped into the man with the moustache who had been staring at her last night from the centre table in the Dining Saloon.

  “Good morning, pretty lady,” he said. “You’re obviously a good sailor!”

  “Good morning,” Zelina answered politely, noticing his small black moustache for the first time.

  She tried to pass him.

  However, he stood in her way and then stated,

  “I looked for you last night after dinner but you’d disappeared.”

  Zelina wondered what she should say next to avoid being friendly with him.

  She thought it would seem too pompous to say that they had not been introduced. But she knew that he was the type of man her father would not have considered a gentleman and that she should certainly not encourage him in any way.

  Moreover, she was aware that he was looking at her in the way that had made her feel uncomfortable the night before and she tried to move forward, saying as she did so,

  “Excuse me, I wish to go to my cabin.”

  “What’s the hurry then?” he asked. “Come and sit down somewhere and tell me about yourself.”

  “I am afraid I am too – busy,” Zelina replied and again tried to pass him.

  He would have stopped her, but at that very moment one of the other passengers came through the outer door and, as he pushed by, Zelina followed him and escaped.

  When she reached her cabin, she found that her heart was beating faster and told herself that it was stupid of her to be upset.

  She thought it strange that her aunt had not sent a lady’s maid with her. Her mother and father had never allowed her to travel anywhere unaccompanied and unchaperoned.

  However Aunt Kathleen had told her that the Russian Embassy was arranging the whole voyage and Zelina had imagined in that case they would provide some sort of chaperone for her.

  She supposed now that, while she was in a British ship, she would hardly come under their jurisdiction and she would have to wait until she reached Stockholm before the Russians took over.

  She found horrifying the idea that all through the voyage she would have to avoid the man with the moustache.

  Then she asked herself how he could hurt her and she knew that now that she was grown up and on her own, she must learn to handle people without relying on her father as she had always done in the past.

  Nevertheless she felt very young and lost and, only by reading the books that she had brought with her and forcing herself to concentrate on reading, could she forget her feelings.

  They ran into an even rougher sea before luncheon and in consequence there were few people in the Dining Saloon. Amongst those missing was the man with the moustache and Zelina gave a sigh of relief when he did not appear.

  This time she had the foresight to take her book with her and noticed that Lord Charnock at the far end of the Saloon was also reading as he ate.

  Because his eyes were on his book, Zelina was able to watch him for a little while and thought, as she had before, that he looked aloof and inhuman.

  She guessed, because of the despatch cases that had been carried aboard with him, that he had something to do with the Diplomatic Service and she wished that she could talk to him about his work and ask him about Russia.

  ‘If Papa was with me, it would be so easy,’ she reflected, ‘and I would like to hear more about the political situation in the country.’

  Because she was thinking of Lord Charnock, she was looking at him and, as if he was suddenly aware of it, he raised his head from his book and looked directly at her.

  Quickly she looked away, but the mere movement of her head had attracted his attention and, although she was unaware of it, the sunlight coming through one of the portholes glinted on her fair hair and gave her what appeared in the distance to be a golden halo.

  Vaguely at the back of his mind Lord Charnock thought that she looked attractive and then he wondered that such a young woman should be travelling alone on the ship.

  It was merely a passing thought and he was just about to look down again at his book when it struck him that the woman in question must be the Countess’s niece.

  He had not actually looked at her when the Countess asked him to take care of her during the voyage because he had been so annoyed by the request.

  Now it struck him as rather strange that the girl should be travelling alone and he then wondered why she should be going to Russia.

  Next he told himself that it was not his concern and, if she was anything like her aunt, he had no intention of even speaking to her.

  However, he noticed that, as soon as she had finished her meal, she picked up her book and walked quickly out of the Saloon.

  ‘At least she is a good sailor,’ he surmised.

  Lord Charnock spent that afternoon working. Then, as it was impossible to walk round the deck because of the rough sea, he spent a short time on the bridge with the Captain, a privilege accorded to him because of his importance and that he was extremely interested in ships and was considering buying a yacht of his own.

  By dinnertime the waves had subsided a little and a following wind was moving the ship quickly towards the shelter of the Danish coast.

  When he had changed into his evening clothes, just as he would have changed whether he was at home or at Buckingham Palace, Lord Charnock went down to the Dining Saloon knowing that he would be offered much the same menu as he eaten the night before.

  There was still a distinct shortage of other diners, but Zelina on entering the Saloon five minutes earlier could see with a sense of foreboding that the man with the moustache was back in the same place that he had occupied the night before.

  Some men friends were with him, but there were no women and they were obviously treating any queasy feelings that they might have from the movement of the sea with wine.

  Zelina did not look in their direction, but she heard them shouting at the waiters to bring bottle after bottle and halfway through the meal a Steward came to Zelina’s side to say,

  “Mr. Adamson, miss, asks if you’ll take a glass of wine with him.”

  “Mr. Adamson?” Zelina repeated not understanding what she was being offered.

  Then, as the Steward glanced towards the centre table, she knew exactly who he was.

  “Please than
k the gentleman and say the answer is ‘no’,” she said firmly.

  “Thank you, miss.”

  The Steward relayed her answer and then to Zelina’s consternation Mr. Adamson rose somewhat unsteadily to his feet and shouted,

  “If you won’t join me, I’ll drink to you, pretty lady! Good health!”

  The ship rolled as he spoke and, while much of the wine in his glass splashed over onto the table, the other men laughed uproariously and put up their hands to support him.

  Zelina, feeling that the whole episode was intolerable, picked up her book and ran from the Saloon.

  After she had locked herself in her cabin, there came a knock on the door.

  “What is – it?” she asked apprehensively.

  “It’s the Stewardess, miss.”

  She went to the door and unlocked it.

  “A Steward from the Dining Saloon tells me you left without finishin’ your dinner, miss. Is there anythin’ I can get you?”

  “How kind of you to think of it,” Zelina answered, “but I have had quite enough.”

  “He tells me a gentleman was bein’ impertinent, but then you mustn’t worry, miss. They always drinks too much when the sea gets rough.”

  Zelina did not know what to reply and after a moment the Stewardess said,

  “If there’s anythin’ you want later, miss, you just let me know.”

  “Thank you, but I am going to bed,” Zelina replied.

  She locked her door and, having climbed into bed, finished her last book.

  It was then that she realised that she would have nothing to read for the next two days, but she felt sure that there would be some books available on board.

  *

  The next morning Zelina rose very early and went to the Purser’s Office to enquire if there was a library on the ship.

  She was told that there were a number of books in the Writing Room, but to please be careful about returning them as a large number went missing on every voyage.

  “Even the most respectable people become thieves when it’s a question of a book,” the Purser informed with a smile.

  “I expect what happens is that they get halfway through one and cannot bear not to know the ending,” Zelina suggested.

  The Purser agreed, thinking that when she smiled Miss Tiverton was the prettiest girl he had ever seen in his whole life.

  “Are you all right, miss?” he asked. “I hear that one of the passengers was being cheeky in the Saloon last night.”

  Zelina thought that the ship was rather like a small village where everything was known the moment it happened.

  “I am all right,” she replied, “but perhaps it might be wiser for me to have dinner in my cabin if it is not inconvenient.”

  “I am afraid you’ll find it rather uncomfortable and cramped,” the Purser said. “But don’t worry, I’ll have a word with the gentleman in question and tell him to behave himself.”

  “I would not wish you to do that.”

  “You leave everything to me,” the Purser declared in a fatherly manner. “We’re here to look after our passengers and see to their comfort. If you were my daughter, I’d be worried about you travelling alone.”

  “It is the first time I have done so,” Zelina replied.

  “Well, if you are at all upset by anything, you come and tell me,” the Purser answered, “and what happened last night, I promise you, will not happen again.”

  “Thank you very much,” Zelina smiled at him.

  Because he had been so kind, she felt a new warmth inside her as she went in search of the Writing Room.

  There were two large bookcases filled with books, most of them appearing to be rather dull. But there was one book on Russia, which she took from the shelf to carry back to her cabin.

  It was a short book but very interesting in describing various parts of the country, the Churches in Moscow and the many Palaces of St. Petersburg. Unfortunately, because it was so short, she had finished it by five o’clock in the evening.

  She thought that this would be a good time to take in some fresh air. Although she had no idea how men like Mr. Adamson behaved, she knew that there was a smoking room on board, as it was marked on the plan of the ship that was in her cabin and she had the idea that he and his rowdy friends would be sitting there together.

  She therefore went on deck on the other side of the ship and sat looking at the sea and breathing in the fresh air.

  Even though it was cold she felt that it was invigorating and only when she thought that she should be changing for dinner did she go inside.

  *

  Lord Charnock had also thought that late in the afternoon would be a good time to take some exercise and, having walked the deck for nearly thirty minutes, he was ready to return to his cabin.

  He was an active man and when he was on dry land he rode every day of his life.

  He preferred galloping over his own Parkland at Charnock Park, where he had a stable of outstanding horses, many of which he had bred himself.

  In London he rode very early in the morning when Hyde Park was not crowded and, rather than the fashionable Rotten Row, he preferred the less frequented parts where he could give his horse its head.

  He hoped that he would have time to ride in Russia, feeling that otherwise he would be stifled in overheated Palaces. At the same time he was well aware that the distance he would have to travel to get from one place to another was the equivalent of several miles’ walk in England.

  He sighed as he thought of how many corridors he would have to traverse and the many long-winded interviews he would have to endure.

  However optimistic Lord Palmerston might have been, there was every likelihood that his mission would be a failure.

  Then he told himself that he seldom failed. In fact it was a word he disliked and was sure that it should not be in his vocabulary.

  Nobody looking at him with his enigmatic, indifferent expressionless face would have realised that, underneath the façade he offered to the world, Lord Charnock had a great sense of adventure.

  He loved the cut and thrust of diplomatic intrigue, which was as thrilling to him as was a battle to a dedicated soldier or a kill to a big game hunter.

  On this trip to Russia he was pitting his own brains against the brains of the most skilful and perhaps the most sinister men in the whole world of international Politics.

  There were indeed thousands of questions that every Diplomat wished to know about the intentions of the Czar and, because he was such an unpredictable character, it was extremely difficult even to guess what line he might take towards a number of other European nations apart from his intervention in Turkey.

  When Lord Charnock thought of what lay ahead of him when he reached St. Petersburg, he was almost appalled at the enormity of the difficulties that he had to face.

  Then with a faint twist of his lips he told himself that, however devious or unpredictable the Russians might be, he would eventually get the better of them, if only because some inner strength gave him the power to do so.

  It was not a subject that he could talk about, but he was aware that he had a perception that often revealed to him what another man was thinking or, better still, what he was hiding.

  It was not a power he used every day, but in an emergency it was there if he called upon it and it was a reassurance which he thought to himself was more comforting than was a massive reinforcement of troops to a General battling against superior odds.

  He had left the deck and was walking along the corridor to his own cabin when he heard a sudden scream.

  For a moment he thought that he had been mistaken and then he heard the scream again.

  As he looked round and wondered where it had come from, he realised that he was now outside the Writing Room.

  Then he heard a woman s voice screaming,

  “Go – away! Leave me – alone!”

  “That’s something I have no intention of doing, pretty lady!”

  As the man�
�s voice spoke the last two words, Lord Charnock remembered that he had heard them spoken at dinner last night.

  He had not missed the noisy toast shouted across the cabin by a drunken man and it was only as the woman he had addressed had run up the stairs that he had realised that it was the Countess’s young niece.

  It had flashed through his mind then that he should do something about it, but, when she disappeared, he told himself that the best thing to do was to pretend that he had not seen what had happened.

  Now, without thinking or considering that he had no wish to be involved, Lord Charnock opened the door of the Writing Room and walked in.

  One glance told him at once what was going on.

  Zelina was standing with her back to the bookcase struggling against the man with a black moustache who had toasted her last night and who was now obviously attempting to kiss her.

  The noise Lord Charnock made opening the door made him turn his head and in that moment Zelina was free of him and she ran across the room.

  “Please stop – him!” she begged Lord Charnock in a terrified voice. “Please – don’t let him – touch me!”

  Lord Charnock was looking at the man in a way that would have made one of his own class quail.

  “Get out of here!” he called out in a voice that sounded like the crack of a whip. “I shall report your behaviour to the Captain and advise him to have you confined to your cabin for the rest of the voyage!”

  Mr. Adamson opened his mouth to speak and then he thought better of it and walked past Lord Charnock without looking at him.

  Only when the door was closed behind him did Zelina, who was trembling, say,

  “Thank you, my Lord, thank you – he – frightened me.”

  “Sit down for a moment,” Lord Charnock advised her.

  Because she felt that, if she did not do so, she might actually fall down, Zelina obeyed him.

  She sat on a hard chair and, when her face was raised to his, he saw by the darkness in her eyes and the trembling of her hands that she was indeed very scared.

  Lord Charnock sat down beside her and asked,

  “Why is your maid not with you? Surely you are not travelling alone?”

  “I-I am – alone.”

  She saw the surprise in his eyes and added,