To Dream of Snow (16 page)

Her wide-panniered skirt flowed with the embroidered feathers, the glow of the jewelled eyes echoed in the emerald and diamond fan-shaped Russian headdress she wore at the back of her powdered head. She knew she was a truly magnificent sight and that none present would ever forget seeing her in the glorious gown. There was added satisfaction in glimpsing the Comtesse d'Oinville's tight-lipped expression.

At the spy-hole Marguerite sighed with satisfaction. She thought of the many hours that she and her companions had spent on the gown – the thousands of long and short stitches, the variety of stem, satin, fly and fishbone ones and the hundreds of French knots. There was also the delicate work with couched gold thread, all of which had created it. Thankfully it had been worthwhile. She knew without doubt that she had established herself as a designer on whom the Empress could rely for an outstanding garment at any time.

As the Grand Duke and Duchess followed the Empress in the procession Marguerite was shocked to see that instead of appearing in Russian uniform Peter was wearing the pale-blue uniform of a general in the Holstein Dragoons. He was the administrator of the German Duchy of Holstein and she had heard how he loved to wear this particular foreign uniform. But tonight it was an insult to the Empress as if he were aligning his loyalty with her enemy Frederick II of Prussia and his German empire in the very heart of Imperial Russia.

Marguerite wondered how Catherine felt about his act of contempt, knowing from how she had talked sometimes that she truly loved her adopted country. Her husband's disloyal obsession with Prussia was surely a constant irritant to her, although she never showed it.

In Elisabeth's wake, Catherine smiled in acknowledgement of the rustling curtsies and deep bows given to her and Peter in their turn, but inwardly she was full of sick dread as to what would happen when the Empress saw what her heir was wearing. He had been late joining the procession and as yet his choice of uniform had gone unnoticed by her. He was in one of his good moods, looking forward to the violin recital he would give later to the assemblage, being quite an accomplished violinist, and he only made the occasional grimace at the Empress behind her back. That day he had received a whole new collection of model soldiers from Prussia, the uniforms accurately portrayed, and had promptly donned his present uniform to be in command of them. It was playing with this whole new battalion that had made him late for the procession and he had had no inclination to change his attire for the Empress or anyone else.

Marguerite watched until the Empress had mounted the dais and sat down gracefully with a glorious spread of her skirt on the gilded throne. Then she returned to tell her fellow seamstresses all that she had seen. She missed the moment when Elisabeth's gaze fell on her nephew for the first time that evening.

Elisabeth, her colour soaring, intense fury blazing in her eyes, threw out her arm to point her finger at him and screeched one word: ‘Go!'

He went happily, totally unembarrassed, and hurried back to his new toys. It was only those among the foreign aristocracy, present for the first time, who felt shocked and uncomfortable. Some wondered momentarily if their eyes and ears had deceived them, for the Empress was treating them to her delightful smile again. It was almost possible to believe that the extraordinary incident had never happened.

Only Catherine guessed that the peacock gown had induced such exultant pride in Elisabeth that it was overcoming all other emotions, even lasting rage.

Marguerite was able to visit Sarah at last. Early one evening when work was over for the day she set off and was passing the Admiralty when she saw that people were crossing the Neva by the bridge. Then she noticed that after four frozen months multiple cracks had at last appeared in the ice and so all foot and wheeled traffic across it had been stopped. Now and again there was a sharp sound like a pistol shot, which startled her until she realized that it was just another splitting of the ice.

She soon found the Warringtons' house, which was painted a pale yellow. Although it was the Russian custom to dine at two o'clock and the English at five, Sarah had written that dinner would be delayed until she arrived. The door opened promptly at her tug on the bell-pull.

Sarah came running into the hall at her entry, her arms held out. ‘My dear, dear friend!' she cried in welcome. ‘We meet again at last!'

‘It's wonderful to see you after all this time!' Marguerite declared warmly as they embraced, kissed each other's cheeks and then caught hands, laughing in pleasure at their reunion.

‘I've so enjoyed your letters,' Sarah enthused, ‘but it's not like being together and chatting together. Come into the drawing room and sit down. Tom sends you his apologies, but he is very busy at the moment and is at a meeting that will keep him until late. Tell me, how have you adjusted to life here? Have you found this winter very long? I know I have! Don't you think I look well now?'

‘Indeed you do!' Marguerite declared happily, thinking that Sarah had put on a little weight and did look well, although there was – and probably always would be – a fragility about her and a delicacy of colouring that gave her a vulnerable look as if she were made of porcelain. ‘And this evening I've seen that the Neva is beginning to crack, which means that the winter you have found so wearying will soon be at an end.'

‘That's splendid news! There's so much I want to ask you and to talk about.' Then Sarah shook her head slightly and her eyes suddenly brimmed with sentimental tears. ‘After all you did for me I see you as a sister, Marguerite. Say that is how it will always be between us.'

‘I couldn't wish for anything better.'

‘That makes me so happy!' Spontaneously she sprang up and gave Marguerite another hug. Then she sat down again, wiped her eyes and, with a smile, chatted on. ‘You must forgive my tears. As you will remember, I do get very emotional at times. Tom is so tolerant. I don't know how he puts up with my highs and lows. But I don't want to talk about myself. I heard from a fellow countrywoman next door to us about the peacock gown that the Empress wore at that grand ball. Although my neighbour wasn't there to see it herself, her daughter was present in the company of a Russian beau and had described how beautiful it was. I told her that I was sure that I knew who had designed it. I'm right, am I not?'

Marguerite nodded, smiling. ‘Yes, you are.'

‘I'm so glad Tom and I will be living in St Petersburg now. I shall be able to hear about all your achievements. He will soon be busy with a new layout for a section of the park at the Palace of Oranienbaum, which is quite a way from here on the shores of the Gulf of Finland. The Empress seems to have palaces all over the place.'

‘I know she has quite a number.'

‘That's not all,' Sarah continued excitedly. ‘In Moscow he showed the Empress some designs for a special garden on a section of the roof of the new Winter Palace that is soon to be built. Under glass and with heated stoves in winter a variety of flowers would bloom all the year round!'

‘What a splendid project!'

Before they went in to dinner Sarah showed Marguerite around the house. It was noticeable that, although she had many small objets d'art, which she had bought when living in France, she was happiest in having around her again all the items that were originally from her first home with Tom after their marriage. It had not been far from Windsor Castle, where he had been working and becoming quite well known for his creativeness.

‘You have managed to give this very Russian house quite an English look to it,' Marguerite commented with interest, ‘even though you've only been here a very short time.'

Sarah nodded happily. ‘That was my aim. I wanted this house to look like home. Did you realize that the footman who took your cloak is from England? His former employer recently died. In addition, I've an English lady's maid, who came to me in Moscow, and best of all' – she clapped her hands together like a child – ‘I've an English cook! Now Tom can have his favourite roast beef which he so enjoys just as if we were really home!'

Over the tasty dinner served with an excellent wine Sarah confessed to suffering agonies of homesickness when they were in Moscow. Even now she was missing her parents more than ever and also her married brother David, who was an officer serving with the Royal Navy. Just speaking of her family made her dab at her eyes.

‘David has such a pretty wife named Alice. She has a baby every time he has shore leave, and I miss seeing the little ones. But now I have you here,' she added with a brave attempt at a smile again, ‘I'll not be as lonely as before.'

‘But you always have Tom with you.'

‘He is out so much! In Moscow he was ever at the Empress's beck and call.' She sighed. ‘Now he's going to Oranienbaum and will only get home occasionally.'

When they returned to the drawing room they sat opposite each other as Sarah made tea for them both in an English teapot, adding the tea leaves from a canister before pouring the hot water from a dainty silver kettle on its own stand.

‘I suppose you must have learnt some Russian by now?' she said inquiringly as she handed a cup to Marguerite.

‘Yes, I have recently increased the number of Russian seamstresses assisting me to eight and I encourage the exchange of languages.'

Sarah sat back triumphantly with her tea. ‘Then I shall teach you English as well! Then when Tom and I are home again some time in the future you shall visit us and I will have found a delightful man for you to marry!'

Marguerite flung back her head and laughed. ‘Then start my lessons at once!' she joked. ‘What was the name of that English dish we had this evening?'

‘Shepherd's pie!'

Marguerite repeated the words very accurately before adding with amusement, ‘English shepherds must live very well if that was an example of their diet.'

Sarah laughed, shaking her head. ‘The meat was lamb. That's the reason why the dish has that name. But let's try some other words.'

The impromptu lesson continued, Marguerite genuinely interested in learning, for she had discovered from the amount of Russian she was mastering that she had an ear for languages. Then Sarah paused in her teaching, hearing Tom's voice in the hall.

‘Tom has come home sooner than expected!' she declared joyfully. ‘I begged him to try to get away from the meeting in time to see you.'

Marguerite was totally calm as they awaited his coming into the room, feeling quiet anticipation. But when he opened the door, even without turning her head, she felt a curious current pass through her. It was as if she had become totally aware of him with every nerve and fibre of her being, no matter that her mind battled with equal strength to reject it. When he greeted her, bowing over her hand, she saw again all that had caught at her heart the first time she had sighted him. Yet most dangerous of all was the guarded look in his eyes and the reason for it exploded in her mind. He had felt the same insane attraction for her in that Riga hostelry as she had felt for him and that had not changed for either of them.

‘Good evening, Marguerite,' he said evenly. ‘How are you?'

‘I'm well indeed.' She kept her outward composure. ‘What a comfortable home you have here! Sarah has shown it all to me.'

He smiled at his wife, sitting down beside her on the sofa. ‘Yes, now that we've hung the pictures from home, placed some items of our well-travelled furniture and set out our books – as well as everything else we've taken around with us from place to place – it does begin to feel like our own home.'

Marguerite hoped her voice would not reveal the tension within her. ‘But Sarah has told me that you're going to be some distance away from St Petersburg for a while.'

‘Yes, I have work to carry out in the park of the Palace of Oranienbaum. The Empress is anxious that the park should not be neglected, which is why it has been included with everything else I'm doing for her. Her coffers will settle the account, but this particular palace is the one that she gave to the Grand Duke and Duchess as a marriage gift. I have been to view its setting extensively already. I'm pleased to say the park retains a natural rustic beauty in some of the more distant areas, which I shall maintain. There are also some splendid groves of trees that will be left untouched. I never compete with nature when I consider it impossible to improve on her work, although naturally there is always some tidying up to be done.'

‘It sounds just the sort of lovely, quiet place that I should like for myself.' Sarah looked up at him lovingly as she held out her hand and he took it between both his own. ‘You must take both Marguerite and me there to see it when everything is done.'

‘At the first opportunity,' he promised. Then he glanced across at Marguerite. ‘I hope you will keep Sarah under your watchful eye again all the time I'm away.'

‘I'll do that with pleasure.'

He asked her how she found life at the Palace and somehow conversation flowed until the evening passed and it was time for her leave. Tom had his own carriage brought to the door for her. It was as he handed her into it that his fingers held hers slightly longer than was necessary and he gave them a moment of deliberate pressure. She took her seat swiftly and through the glass saw his intensely serious expression and the deep look in his eyes. Alarmed, she turned her face away and at the same instant the carriage moved forward.

All the way back to the Palace her mind grappled with the desperate situation that had arisen. There was no doubt Tom loved his wife, which was obvious in his whole caring attitude towards her. Yet now she recalled how his gaze had lingered on her significantly in those few last moments at Riga before he had carried Sarah away. He had allowed himself those few seconds to absorb her into his memory, never expecting to see her again. It was far from the first time that men had been instantly attracted to her and it had been tiresome at times, but never dangerous as it was now, when her own feelings were involved.