Splendor (46 page)

He turned away.

Marie-Elena stomped her foot. "Do not think to come back and visit me, Sasha, if you are leaving now, like this!"

He did not reply.

Carolyn watched him stride across the lawn, toward the front of the house, not really seeing him, stunned by the entire episode and the thought of the pending battle—and startled to realize that, in spite of what Nicholas had done, she was so very afraid for him. But surely he would survive this battle. Surely he would:

And she was so engrossed that she failed to move back behind the draperies. Marie-Elena turned to go back to the east wing of the house. She saw Carolyn in the window and cried out.

Carolyn's instinct was to seek sanctuary in the classroom, even though it was not the time for her to instruct Katya, but on second thought, she knew that would not be wise. She did not want Katya to witness her mother's temper, or hear anything Marie-Elena might say. She walked slowly back to the east wing, and found herself correct. Marie-Elena appeared, her strides hard and swift, approaching her. Her face was dangerously flushed.

She stopped in front of Carolyn, her hands on her hips. *'And just what do you think you were doing?" she demanded. Her dark eyes ghttered.

Carolyn remained as calm as was possible—outwardly. "I was taking some air."

*'You were spying!"

"No. I was taking air."

"What did you see, exactly? How long were you standing there?"

"I was there but a moment. I saw nothing," Carolyn lied. She felt her own cheeks heating.

"Good." Marie-Elena was vicious. "I suggest that you hold to that denial, dear Miss Browne. I will not have yCu reporting my activities to anyone!"

Carolyn might hold to her denial, but she could not hold her tongue. "And to whom would I report your activities. Princess?''

Marie-Elena's hand flashed out. Carolyn realized the woman's intention to strike her, but was so shocked that she did not move. And just as she had slapped Sasha Vo-rontsky, her palm cut sharply across Carolyn's face. It stung.

Carolyn backed up a step. "How dare you," she said low, trembling. How she wanted to attack the other woman. But she managed to control herself, thinking of Katya. Because of the child, she must not reduce herself to such outrageous, despicable behavior.

"How dare I? I am not the one who has gained employment in this house—only to pursue another woman's husband."

Carolyn inhaled. "I will not even respond to that." But she was guilty, at least to some degree, and she knew it, just as Marie-Elena must have sensed it.

"You slept with him!" she cried. "Do you think I am a fool? I have maids here who report directly to me. Everyone knows you spent the other night in his bed. Miss Browne. So cease your innocent behavior. You are not better than me. If one would discount the difference in our

stations, I would say that we are the same."

For Carolyn, the truth was a blow. And it hit her like cold water in the face. And she groped for a response, for a defense, and said, unthinkingly, "I am sorry. I am truly sorry. But I fell in love with Nicholas. I did not mean for anything to happen. I am not that kind of woman." How pitiful she sounded!

Marie-Elena's glance was disparaging. "Please! Hundreds of women, like yourself, have fallen in love with him . .. and into his bed." She turned on her heel and walked away, then paused. *'l am summoning all of the staff to a meeting in the grand salon in a quarter of an hour." She disappeared down the hallway.

Carolyn stared after her, continuing to shake. Marie-Elena's words cut her to the quick, hurting far more than the unkind slap. Was she merely another conquest? Another victim of his stunning looks, his station, and charm? For that would explain his coldness to her the following morning, the way nothing else could.

Her temples throbbed now, along with the side of her face. Carolyn was not going to join the staff in the grand salon, but on her way upstairs she encountered Taichili, Raffaldi, and Katya, all descending. "Miss Browne, everyone is summoned to the grand salon," Raffaldi said pleasantly. And then his eyes narrowed. "Are you ill?"

"I suppose," Carolyn said, changing direction. Katya reached for and took her hand. Carolyn smiled at her as they made their way through the house.

Carolyn had not realized the staff was so large. Perhaps sixty servants had gathered in the huge room, everyone silent with expectation. Ten more minutes passed after the designated quarter hour before Marie-Elena entered the salon. She clapped her hands, perhaps for silence, but everyone was already hushed, their attention focused on the princess. Carolyn had a sense of dread.

"We are going to Moscow," Marie-Elena cried enthusiastically. "And 1 wish to leave in two hours, no later. That means that one and all must begin packing up our

belongings immediately. Wagons and coaches must be readied. I think we shall drive through the nights, so that we may reach Moscow as soon as possible. Is that qXqmT '

Carolyn stared at her, wondering if she was demented. There was going to be a battle not far from Moscow. Whatever could Marie-Elena be thinking? And then it flashed through her mind that SaSha Vorontsky was going to be quite close to the city.

"Very good," Marie-Elena said, satisfied. "In two hours, then, we shall leave. I suggest that everyone get to work inmiediately."

The staff dispersed, rushing from the room. Carolyn found herself standing there holding Katya's hand, Taichili beside her, and Raffaldi. Marie-Elena began to leave. Carolyn glanced at Taichili, but the other woman's mouth was pursed. Wasn't anyone going to object? "Princess!"

Marie-Elena turned, her expression cool. ' T suppose you wish to tell me that you are terminating your employment?"

Carolyn's pulse raced. "Your Highness. I mean no disrespect. But the prince ordered us to remain here, for safety's sake."

She smiled thinly. "Niki is not here. But I am. And we are going to Moscow."

Carolyn stared, and said harshly, "Rumor holds that there will be a major battle on the morrow. Your Highness. Surely it will not be safe to travel anywhere even remotely close to the fighting."

Marie-Elena smiled, her eyes brightening. She sailed forward and took Katya's hand from Carolyn's. "That is just it. Tomorrow, or shortly after, there will be a battle, and afterward, Moscow will be gay and festive like before the war! It is going to be wonderful! There is no city like Moscow when it is the season. After tomorrow, when we will have our first victory of the war, the city will be filled with revelers, to celebrate what may very well be the end of the war! It will be so exciting! We cannot possibly stay here and miss all the fun."

"Will the war really be over?" Katya asked.

"I think so," Marie-Elena cried. "Our soldiers are far superior to Napoleon's, everyone knows that, and now we shall finally have the chance to prove it to the world. Come. Come help me choose which gowns to bring. There are going to be so many parties." Marie-Elena whirled, taking Katya with her. And when the pair was gone, the salon was silent.

Absolutely astounded, Carolyn faced Taichili and the tutor. "This is madness! The prince will be furious when he finds out. And this could be dangerous—or am I mistaken?" How she wanted to be told that she was mistaken!

"What do you know of this battle?" Raffaldi asked, yet he did not seem very perturbed. He seemed, crazily, as excited as Marie-Elena.

Quickly, Carolyn told them what she had overheard, although she did not tell them from whom the information

came.

"It will not be dangerous," Raffaldi said, patting her shoulder. "By the time we reach Moscow, the battle will be long over, dear Miss Browne. For even if we travel through the nights, it takes at least a week to make the journey. And we are not going to drive into the midst of a battle! The princess is very clever. Moscow will be in the mood to celebrate. Have you ever been to Moscow, Miss Browne? It is an engaging city, truly."

Carolyn stared at him as if he had grown horns. "And if the battle is lost? What if Napoleon wins-^-and proceeds to march on Moscow, Signore? Would it be safe for us to be there, then?"

"You exaggerate. He cannot win. We have never chosen to engage him yet. He shall soon see how fierce the Russians are." He grinned. "And I am an outsider, telling you this. I am going to my flat to pack. I suggest you do the same, unless you are returning to London?" With that, he left the room, smiling.

Carolyn confronted Taichili. "And you? Have you been

seized with this madness, too? Is the air suddenly foul? I do not understand!"

But Taichih was not smiling. "Miss Browne, I do hope the princess and Raffaldi are right in their predictions of victory and success. But that is neither here nor there. The prince is absent, the princess is present. She has ordered the household to Moscow. And to Moscow we shall go."

Carolyn stared, her heart sinking. Of course, she did not have to go. But she thought of Katya in her mother's care, so close to the fighting, and she shuddered. She knew that Taichili was right. There was no choice.

<^ Thirty ^

THEY had traveled for six entire days, obtaining fresh horses in the small villages they had passed through, leaving behind forests of firs and pine and spruce. They had crossed too many rivers to count, and the surrounding countryside now consisted of flat hills, barren and faded because of the autunm chill. Firs still appeared from time to time, but silver birch trees dotted the land. As it had not rained in over a week, they had made good time, and would hopefully arrive in Moscow the following day before nightfall. . It was almost evening. Their entourage consisted of five horse-drawn wagons, one of which contained the dozen servants chosen to accompany them to Moscow, the others laden with trunks of personal belongings and supplies of food. A single covered carriage led the convoy. Carolyn sat in it with the princess, Taichili, Raffaldi, Katya, and Marie-Elena's favorite maid, a fair young woman in her thirties who had accompanied her mistress from Baden almost a decade ago.-

Carolyn was awake, everyone else had fallen asleep. A riverbank had appeared in her view on the carriage's right, and she stared at the slow, muddy waters, watching what appeared to be a lynx slinking along the far side. She had been determined to put her anxiety aside, and thus far, there had not appeared to be any cause for concern. They had hardly passed a soul on the road from St. Petersburg. The

villages were sleepy and quiet, as villages should be. But the faces in them, mostly the old and the young except for the women, had been friendly and curious. One would hardly think that the land was at war; in every village where they stopped they had asked about a recent battle but no one had heard of Borodino or any other engagement. Perhaps Sasha Vorontsky had been wrong.

Carolyn hoped so. And she could not help thinking about Nicholas. In Moscow, they would not be very far from him. Just before leaving, she had managed to send a brief mes- _ sage to him, explaining that his wife had ordered their departure for Moscow. Surely, once he learned of their whereabouts, he would come to visit his family. And then what? Carolyn's stomach curdled with dread. She could not bear to be confronted by his coldness again.

Inwardly, she still cried. And she thought of his love-making, of every single instance of it, both the frantic passion and the tenderness, and she thought, surely she was mistaken, surely there was an explanation, there just had to be.

Suddenly the carriage halted.

Carolyn tensed, as the coach's other occupants began to awaken. She leaned across Katya, to stare out of the window, but she saw nothing but bright blue sky. Katya also gazed outside. "Why have we stopped?" the child asked.

"I'm not certain," Carolyn began, and then she stiffened.

Hoofbeats had suddenly sounded. Loudly, rapidly approaching, and it could not be one rider, but half a dozen or more. Carolyn stiffened, glancing around the carriage at everyone else, and saw that one and all were as anxious as she. Quickly she stuck her head through the window and her heart plummeted. Perhaps a dozen soldiers were cantering in their direction.

Carolyn jerked back inside. "Soldiers," she said tersely.

Marie-Elena was white. "Ours, I hope?"

"I have no idea, they are still too far away to tell." Six pairs of eyes met and held.

Katya broke the tension filling the coack. "If they are French, what will happen to us?"

Carolyn took her hand again. "Nothing, dear," she said with a cheerful smile. "We are ladies, and we shall be allowed to pass on." But her heart beat hard with dread. All she could think of was how ladies could so easily be overpowered by enemy soldiers. She shuddered to think of what her and the other women's fates would then be. And then their carriage halted.

Horses and uniforms surrounded them, sending up huge, enveloping clouds of dust. And when the dust settled, Carolyn glimpsed familiar green and gray, and she slumped against her seat. The soldiers were Russian, thank God. And in her next breath, she prayed, God, she did, to see a familiar face—Alexi or even Nicholas. But the young man's face that was peering through the window, a dark plumed helmet atop his head, his brass buttons glinting on his chest, was not familiar. His tone was crisp as he addressed them in French, swinging open the door. He bowed briefly, his gaze inmiediately finding Marie-Elena.

"Madame, I am Major Verenko," he said crisply. "I must ask you what you are doing on this road."

Marie-Elena extended her hand. "Major, I am Princess Sverayov, and we are on our way to Moscow."

"Princess, I am terribly sorry, but you cannot continue on this road. Why are you traveling to Moscow? The city has been evacuated. You must change your course^" the flushed, begrimed officer said.

"Moscow has been evacuated?" Marie-Elena exclaimed. "But why? Surely Napoleon is not advancing undeterred upon her?"

Carolyn reached for and held Katya's hand, her mouth dry.

"I am not here to discuss the war or the evacuation, Princess," he said. "But the city's residents were ordered to leave by the authorities."