The Midwife of St. Petersburg (6 page)

“I wanted to wear something grand tonight,” Natalia said defensively. “Just look at Tatiana. Do you wonder why I borrowed it?”

Tatiana fingered her diamonds. “Mine are nothing compared to that pendant. It must be worth a fortune. How shocking that Aunt Yeva would have such a pendant all these years and never mention it. Why, if I owned that, I’d show it to everyone just to see their eyes pop.”

Karena opened her mouth to defend her mother but hesitated. The
pendant would have paid for a dozen years in the best medical school in Europe and then some.

“I had completely forgotten about the pendant,” she admitted instead. “How did you get it from the safe?”

Natalia sank onto the edge of the bed. “I’ve seen where she and Papa keep the key. I knew neither of them would miss it. They so seldom take it out and look at it.”

Tatiana still held the pendant. Karena frowned and reached to take it from her palm, but Tatiana danced away, laughing.

“Natalia can’t wear it tonight,” Karena said. “It would turn into a scandal.”

“Scandal?” Tatiana’s dark brows rose.

“You know what I mean. Everyone will notice, and Aunt Zofia will write Mother and want to know all about it.”

Natalia jumped to her feet. “Nonsense! Mother won’t be half as indignant as you are. I want to wear it.”

Tatiana held the pendant against her throat, her eyes glowing.

Karena gave Natalia a meaningful stare. Natalia glanced uneasily at Tatiana admiring herself in the mirror, bit her lip, and silently mouthed,
I’m sorry
.

Too late
, Karena mouthed back.

Natalia winced and walked to where Tatiana stood before the full-length mirror. “I’d better put it back. I shouldn’t have brought it in the first place.” She held out her hand.

“Oh, don’t be a goose,” Tatiana said. “No one will suspect you stole it from your parents’ safe. But it doesn’t go with your green gown. In fact, it would look hideous. Here, take my diamonds, and I’ll wear the pendant.”

“Tatiana, I can’t allow—”

But Tatiana had already removed her diamonds and dropped them in Natalia’s palm. She placed the pendant around her own neck, and with
practiced skill, she snapped the clasp. She laughed and danced about the room, avoiding Natalia, who begged for the pendant back.

“Of course, I’ll return it,” she said in response to Natalia’s pleas. “After the ball. Odd, though … I’m certain I’ve seen it before. No, it was a pair of earrings and a matching bracelet of the same design. They belonged to Countess Katya Zinnovy—oh!”

She turned, hands clasped at her heart, and looked at Karena. Karena knew her anger at Tatiana’s outrageous behavior must be visible, but Tatiana seemed oblivious.

“I forgot to tell you the sad news. Dr. Zinnovy was called away tonight on urgent business. His wife, Katya, is ill again. He’s rushed back to St. Petersburg to be with her. Oh, Karena, I’m so sorry. But his son is here. You can meet Fyodor Zinnovy.”

Natalia marched up to Tatiana, throwing her shoulders back. “Here are your diamonds. Return the pendant, please, or I shall never hear the end of it.”

“You won’t let me wear it?”

“I’d better not, Tatiana.”

“Oh, very well. Here—” She unclasped the chain and handed Natalia the pendant, then took her own diamonds to the mirror.

While Natalia returned the pendant to its box, Karena’s thoughts focused on her disappointment over Dr. Zinnovy’s cancellation. Fate seemed determined to thwart her. Would she ever achieve her dream?

K
arena and Natalia followed Tatiana down the hallway until they came to the lighted stairway. Tatiana paused on the brightly lit landing until many eyes were turned her way, then descended slowly for effect.

Karena and Natalia followed two steps behind.

“I feel like the princess’s bridesmaid,” Natalia whispered. Karena tried not to laugh.

The crystal chandelier above them sparkled, pouring forth light. The polished floor gleamed, leading to an archway that opened into the ballroom. The orchestra began to play prelude music for dinner. Karena scanned the hallway.

A group of gentlemen gathered at the bottom of the stairs. Karena recognized the figure in military uniform at once as Colonel Aleksandr Kronstadt. Two men were with him, presumably to escort her and Natalia to dinner. She thought one of them was Dr. Zinnovy’s son Fyodor. Despite her interest in the Zinnovys, Karena glanced at Colonel Kronstadt. His intense, green-gray gaze met hers.

She immediately looked away. Tatiana must surely have noticed.

Tatiana made the introductions. “Karena, this is Dr. Zinnovy’s son,
Fyodor. And Natalia, this is Count Philipov’s son, Misha. Gentlemen, may I present my cousins, Karena and Natalia Peshkova.”

Karena turned her attention to the young man bowing to her, his soft chin pulled into his wide neck. His soft blue eyes looked sleepy. He seemed nothing like his father.
Perhaps he takes after his mother
, she thought, though she’d never seen her.

“I am sorry to hear of Countess Zinnovy’s illness,” Karena said. “I hope it isn’t serious.”

“The countess is often ailing. It’s one of the reasons I’m studying medicine.”

Her interest was snagged immediately. “I’ve admired your father’s work from afar. I can see why you wish to follow in his steps.”

A momentary silence followed. Fyodor’s cheeks turned a ruddy color, and Karena realized she’d made a blunder. His mouth tightened, reminding her of King Henry VIII in a painting she’d seen of the English monarch.

“Everyone,” Fyodor said stiffly, “admires my father.”

Karena was at a loss over how to respond. She glanced at Tatiana for help, but her cousin remained silent.

“And how are your studies in St. Petersburg progressing?” Alex asked him, his tone nonchalant.

Karena breathed easier, attention having shifted away from her.

“If the staff knew what they were doing, my studies would be going exceptionally well. But there is bickering, jealousy, and pride among the doctors on the teaching faculty.”

“Oh? How unfortunate.”

Karena glanced at Kronstadt and was sure he was merely pretending interest with Fyodor who continued to explain that his struggle with grades was due to problems with the professors.

“If my father was not director, I’d transfer immediately to the Imperial College of Medicine and Midwifery in Moscow.”

Natalia spoke up. “Midwifery is my sister Karena’s specialty.”

Fyodor looked at her with forgiven interest. Karena sensed Alex was watching her as well.

“Is that so, Miss Peshkova?” Fyodor asked politely. “Well, Moscow and St. Petersburg both have the finest training in Russia. Which school will you be attending?”

“I’m hoping to enter St. Petersburg’s in September. This is my third attempt. The quota for new students was full last year and the year before. I’d hoped Dr. Zinnovy would be here tonight. I was going to ask about prospects. Not that he’d know my personal status, of course—but he’d know how crowded the new term looked.”

“Why, I’d hardly expect enrollment to be overcrowded,” Fyodor said. “I’m sure you’ll be accepted.”

“Well, it’s not so simple, I’m afraid. There’s only a two percent opportunity allotted to openings for—for certain people.”

An awkward silence followed. Karena wished she hadn’t been so open.

“Oh, I see,” Fyodor said. “Yes, yes, there is that law, isn’t there.”

“You’re Jewish, Miss Peshkova?”

The question came from Colonel Kronstadt. She turned toward him, wondering what she’d see in his gaze.

“My mother is Jewish,” she explained, perhaps a little too defensively, feeling embarrassed with all eyes turned upon her.

She could read little in his gaze except a thoughtful consideration that told her nothing of his feelings.

“Poland?” he asked.

“Finland. But I’ve an uncle from Poland. He once taught history at Warsaw University until—” She caught herself before explaining further. It would be an error to mention Uncle Matvey had once been arrested for his politics.

Tatiana laid a hand across her forehead. She looked up at the ceiling
in her usual manner of frustrated agony. “This conversation is becoming distasteful. It’s little wonder you’ve been treated with small interest at the Imperial Medical College, Karena. One doesn’t go about blaring trumpets and telling everyone you’ve an uncle who isn’t loyal to Czar Nicholas.”

Karena felt her flush deepen. “Professor Menkin is absolutely loyal to the Romanovs—”

Ignoring her, Tatiana moved between Alex and Fyodor, looping her arms through theirs. She looked first at one young man and then the other, her small white teeth showing in a dimpled smile.

“Alex … Fyodor, have you heard my exciting news? We’re having a surprise guest coming tonight after dinner. Before the dancing begins, some of us are going into the great-parlor where he’ll speak to us.”

Karena shook with anger and embarrassment. Tatiana might just as well have called her a silly little fool in front of the men.
Oh! Sometimes I could squeeze that neck of hers!
She was tempted to turn away and go up to her room, but she didn’t want Tatiana to think she could be defeated so easily. Why had Tatiana reacted that way? Why had she even invited her to Kazan if all she saw in her was someone with whom she must compete whenever they were with guests?

Why shouldn’t I be honest with Fyodor? I am not ashamed that Mother is Jewish. And Uncle Matvey is one of the most intelligent men I know
.

Karena refused to slink away. She glanced about for Natalia and vaguely recalled that she’d wandered into the next room with the talkative son of the count. Karena lifted her chin and stood her ground, pretending interest in Tatiana’s conversation with Alex and Zinnovy that deliberately excluded her. Karena noticed the pathetic smile on Fyodor’s face each time Tatiana turned to smile at him, including him in her attentions, her fingers holding onto his arm.

He looks like a lovesick calf
, Karena thought. She could have laughed but found her heart felt sorry for him. She sensed that he wanted to be
liked for himself instead of his father’s renowned name in medicine. Tatiana was merely using him for some reason of her own that wasn’t clear.
He doesn’t see that she has no more genuine interest in him than in a dandelion
. Karena didn’t know what Alex’s response was because she steadfastly refused to look at him, nor could he say anything with Tatiana talking and laughing constantly.

“I think,” Colonel Kronstadt said with affected gravity, apparently relieved, “that was the dinner announcement we just heard.”

“Yes, shall we go in?” Tatiana said. “You must prove yourself cheerful company tonight for the general’s sake, Alex. My poor father is in a worse mood than you are. You too, Fyodor,” she added with a quick smile thrown his way.

As though he were a big-eyed spaniel in need of a pat on the head
, Karena thought.

Tatiana, dividing herself unselfishly between Alex and Fyodor, her arms still looped through theirs, was beginning to lead them away captive when Alex turned back toward Karena.

He wore a faint smile. “We must not forget Miss Peshkova,” he said smoothly, releasing Tatiana’s hold and extending a hand to Karena with a light bow. “She might be sorry she left Kiev and board the first steamer to the train station.”

Karena smiled and took his hand, ignoring the glimmer of displeasure in Tatiana’s eyes. His warm hand closed about hers and placed it on his arm, and his reassuring touch made her heart beat faster.

“I shall hardly run away, Colonel.”

He looked into her eyes. “No, on second thought, I don’t think you would.”

L
ight cascaded from a mass of white tapers in golden chandeliers. The large dining table, covered with ecru lace, sparkled with silver and crystal.

Alex noticed a change in Tatiana. It was unlike her to be silent. Perhaps she was agitated because he had escorted Karena into the dining room. Following her gaze, he realized Tatiana was watching not the Peshkova girl but the medical student seated beside her. Now why would the moody Fyodor occupy her thoughts?

Alex leaned toward her. “Not feeling well, darling?”

“Oh. Oh, yes, quite well.” She smiled at him sweetly. “Why do you ask?”

He lifted a brow. “You’re too quiet.”

“Am I?” she laughed. “I’m saving all my energy for the dance.” She paused. “I hope you won’t mind if I dance with others tonight? Fyodor, for instance … I would like to lead off with him. Do you mind?”

Alex stifled a grin. “Dance to your heart’s content. Just watch your wee toes. He may be good with a scalpel, but don’t trust him to do the light fandango gracefully.”

She laughed again. A moment later she sobered and murmured, “Alex, do you think Fyodor is as handsome as his father?”

“I’ve not given the matter much thought,” he teased, “but—”

“Oh, bother!” she grabbed her napkin from her lap and touched it to her velvet skirt. “I’ve spilled a dash of wine. I need to go up and get my lady to clean it.”

Alex stood, pulling back her chair. “I’ll escort you.”

“There’s no need, Alex. Do stay and enjoy your meal. I won’t be long.”

Alex looked down at her chair before reseating himself and noticed her linen napkin. He picked it up. It was unsoiled—there’d been no wine spilled.

Karena was conversing with Fyodor, and her sister with the count. The entire table of guests appeared occupied with those seated near them. A minute later, Alex left the dining room.

In the foyer, a few serving people were moving quickly about. The butler hovered nearby, keeping a watchful eye on the dinner party. Alex looked over at the grand staircase. “Did Miss Roskova go up?”

“She did, sir, just a moment ago.”

“Where is her room?”

“Down the corridor to your right, sir. The end of the hall.”

Alex went up the stairs. He found the second floor quiet except for the faint murmur of voices and music that drifted up from below. Tatiana’s bedroom door was shut. He tapped. There was no response. From down the corridor he heard movement in one of the rooms. He walked there and found the door ajar. He saw enough to know that this was the room assigned to Karena or her sister. Tatiana stared into the open box in her hands, so entranced that she didn’t hear him enter as she removed its contents.