Chapter 6
It was growing dark when Mensherikovsky informed Tanya that they were approaching Moscow and in just a few hours would be passing through the gates of the city. Tanya’s heart leapt, and she felt strangely frightened.
Since they had left the staging post she had not even seen Nicholas, let alone found an opportunity to speak to him. She wondered to herself why she had risked so much for his sake, for she was quite sure that she did not love him any more than she loved the Prince. For both these men, she had mixed feelings. She felt for Nicholas as she would for a brother in a way, although the memory of that time by the stream could hardly be called sisterly! She blushed even now as she recalled it and thought that the child she had been then was gone forever. Mensherikovsky had done that for her. And yet, in his way, he had been good to her, for he certainly had not been under any compulsion to marry her when she had pleaded with him. She had a vague idea that apart from his desire for her, he regarded her as another treasure to be added to his possessions and yet there was no doubt that his feelings for her were very strong and as long as they remained that way, she should be able to control him. And now they were approaching Moscow, that fabled city she had heard such wild tales of in Sweden. Little had she dreamed then that one day she would enter its gates as a Russian Princess!
The next few hours dragged interminably, but at last, Prince Mensherikovsky turned his head towards her, although she had believed him to be asleep.
‘You should be able to see the city now, we have just topped Sparrow Hills. Look.’
He opened the window for her, and she leaned out eagerly, straining her eyes into the distance. The sun was just setting, its crimson rays picking out the city spread below them. Her eager eyes took in every detail, from the hundreds of golden domes topped by a forest of golden crosses with the white-walled churches beneath to the painted palaces of the Boyar noblemen. The sun on all the gold hurt her eyes for a moment. She saw twisting lanes around square gardens and, dwarfing it all, the citadel of the Kremlin with its three magnificent cathedrals and huge bell tower, its white bastioned walls looming over the town like a bird of prey crouched over its terrified victim. Why such a thought should have come into her mind, Tanya couldn’t say, but it was a strong impression. Nevertheless, she gasped in awe, for she had never seen such a beautiful sight in all her life. She thought that in summer, it must be even more magnificent as she could see bare orchards and parks surrounded by snow. She remembered, suddenly, the quiet little cave where she had spent those pleasant, peaceful years with Sten’ka and could hear again his rich voice, filled with emotion as he described Russia’s greatest city to her. She stayed unmoving, oblivious of the cold wind whipping her hair around her face, her eyes avidly drinking in every detail of the scene before her. She was only called back to reality by Mensherikovsky’s voice behind her.
‘Well, little Tanya, and what do you think of our capital city?’ he asked dryly, his eyes taking in her flushed countenance and sparkling eyes.
‘It’s absolutely beautiful. I’ve never seen anything to compare with it in all my life,’ she whispered.
He gave a short laugh. ‘Paris is much lovelier,’ he replied.
She threw him a puzzled glance.
‘You’re not very patriotic, are you?’
‘No, I suppose I’m not. I have spent so much time in that city that I feel more French than Russian. When you meet some of the courtiers that surround the Tsar, and of course, the Tsar himself, you will know what I mean.’
He left it at that, and she returned to the window until she grew tired of craning her neck and sat back more decorously in the coach, for they were almost at the gates.
‘We are only just in time, they will be closing soon,’ murmured the Prince, then the coach came to a halt. A row of soldiers outside came to smart attention, and their officer saluted respectfully.
‘Pass, Your Highness,’ he cried, and then they were through the gates and bowling along the narrow streets which were crowded with tradespeople, artisans, peasants, and black-robed priests. Tanya stared at the musicians and jugglers, acrobats and performing bears, and at the merchants on horseback, wearing rich fur-lined coats of velvet or brocade and impressive fur caps. The coachman began to lay about him with his whip as they fought their way through the carts and wagons, and the passers-by huddled back, passively sheltering their faces from its cruel lash. As if in a trance, Tanya stared out of the window at a small, dirty, ragged child looking at her with wide eyes. The years rolled back, and she was that child, her arm laid open by the whip, staring at the beautiful, wealthy occupants of the coach. How the tables had turned! She found herself vowing under her breath never again to sink into poverty, never again to have to go hungry and dirty.
‘You look quite fierce, Tanya. I trust I am not the cause of your displeasure?’
Mensherikovsky’s voice startled her out of her reverie, and she glanced perfunctorily at him.
‘No,’ she said softly. ‘I was just making a vow to myself, that’s all.’
‘May I ask what?’ he asked curiously.
She shook her head. ‘You wouldn’t understand,’ she replied and turned to gaze out of the window again.
He looked at her frowningly but did not press the matter. He proceeded to point out all the sights of interest, and Tanya strained her eyes in the fading light to pick them out. They passed through the street of the Barbers, where the horses’ hooves were muffled in a growth of human hair all over the street, the result of thousands upon thousands of hair cuttings that had been left where they dropped. She could see the millions of lice crawling through the growth and drew back in revulsion.
They passed through scenes of incredible squalor, where men lay in rows on the ground, most probably drunk, although as the dusk progressed, shops were now closing behind heavy shutters, and dogs barked fiercely from where they were chained.
‘Soon it will be dark,’ remarked Erik and waved a languid hand at the narrow alleys and twisting laneways. ‘It is unsafe to venture out after dark, there are thieves, and some of the dregs of humanity out there now, who do not hesitate to kill for a purse of money or a jewel or two. Every morning there are bodies of those foolish enough to ignore the warnings, and they are carried to a place where the relatives can come and check if they know a member of their family is missing. It’s an uncivilised city, this Moscow of ours.’
Tanya shuddered slightly and stared out of the window with wondering eyes. Eventually, they entered a more prosperous area where the buildings gradually grew larger and more imposing, and at last, the coach drew up before a beautiful, painted palace, which the Prince informed her was her future home.
‘We are now just outside the German Quarter of the city. I have sent a messenger on before us, so our arrival is expected, and a personal maid has been acquired for you. I will take you in and introduce you to the servants, then I must proceed straight to the Kremlin, to report to the Tsar. He is expecting me and does not like to be kept waiting.’
Tanya clutched his arm nervously as they entered, to find a flustered staff lining themselves up in the hall. Apart from the housekeeper, who was also Mensherikovsky’s old nurse, he informed her, and her personal maid Anna, both of whom were free servants, all the others were bonded serfs. Tanya’s ready pity was aroused, and she smiled kindly at the wretched line of peasants. How terrible, not to own even your own soul! She could imagine nothing worse. The housekeeper, a tiny, incredibly wrinkled old lady dressed completely in black, rather overawed her until she smiled, then her little black eyes almost disappeared, and her whole face shone with kindness.
Anna, the maid, was different. Tanya could not help staring a little and almost recoiled from the venomous look of dislike cast at her, before the girl’s eyes became veiled, and she dropped a curtsey. The young woman was a considerable beauty, with a hard, brittle loveliness about her. Her face was a mask of white, her cheeks stained with beetroot, and her lashes spiked black with charcoal. Her teeth were also fashionably black, and her dress seemed a trifle rich for a servant. Her dark glossy hair was piled on top of her head, and Tanya could not help thinking that she looked more like a lady of the court than a servant. She became aware of her tousled head and travel-stained appearance and drew herself up, nodding imperiously to the girl. She saw another flash of hatred. She looked at her husband and saw that he was looking rather amused. She resolved to ask him about the girl at the first opportunity.
‘What have you done with my servant?’ she asked her husband before he left, and he told her abruptly that for the moment he was being kept under lock and key.
‘We will resolve his case in due course,’ he continued. ‘I do not know at what hour I shall return, but I shall most likely be with the Tsar all night. I shall wait on you when I return.’
He bowed over her hand and swept the assembled company with his hard eyes.
‘This is your mistress. You will obey her in all things – all of you.’
With those last, abrupt words, he departed, and Tanya was left to face the barrage of eyes – some curious, some hostile, most just apathetic. Her natural manner came to her rescue, and she began to issue orders in a calm, authoritative voice. She saw the little housekeeper looking at her searchingly, yet somehow approvingly, as if pleased with what she saw.
‘Please to follow me, Your Highness,’ she said in a soft, strongly accented voice. She threw a stern, intimidating glance at Anna. ‘My lady will not need you tonight, I shall see to her needs myself.’
She then dismissed the rest of the staff and led the way along a bright, airy corridor, through rooms hung with beautiful tapestries and pictures to a lovely suite of rooms at the top of the house. This was the terem, where women once lived out their lives after marriage. Since Tsar Peter had returned from Europe, this custom had been relaxed, as he had been delighted by the courts of France and Germany, where beautiful women were to be seen everywhere. Although most orthodox Russians resisted this, and many wives were still secluded in the terem, reserved only for women, some of the younger nobles were allowing their wives to accompany them into the outside world. Much of this was due in part to the Tsar’s half-sister Sophia, a truly remarkable woman for the age she had been born into. She had managed to become educated with her brother, Fedor, and had thrust herself out into the male-dominated world that was hers. She was credited by some with being the chief conspirator in the bloody Streltsy Uprising that had brought her to power as regent. The Tsar had been just a boy of ten who had witnessed the savagery of the revolt, and it marked him for life. Sophia governed Russia for the next seven years whilst Peter grew up at Preobrazhenskoe on the Yauza River, just outside the city. There he engaged in war games with boys from all classes, and from this collection of stableboys and young noblemen, he eventually created the proud Preobrazhensky Regiment. The Streltsy Revolt had engendered in him a hatred of the Kremlin and even Moscow itself, which eventually led to the creation of St. Petersburg. Sophia’s regency was overthrown, and she spent the remaining fifteen years of her life in a convent.
Tanya smiled at the old woman as she was led into the apartments.
‘It is a beautiful house,’ she exclaimed and was rewarded by another of the little woman’s beaming smiles.
‘Yes, it is very lovely,’ she agreed in her stilted voice. ‘I am Anita Gorov, Your Highness,’ she continued. ‘Most of the household call me Nita. Some to my face, most behind my back. I am Polish by birth and was brought to Russia as a captive, many, many years ago. I eventually married, was freed, and finally became nurse to the Prince and his brother.’
‘Oh, I didn’t know he had a brother,’ exclaimed Tanya in interest.
‘He is dead,’ replied Nita shortly, then proceeded to show her around the rooms, then took her on a little tour of the house whilst her bags were unpacked. When Tanya confessed to being very tired, she insisted on her going straight to bed and promised to arrange for a tray to be sent up to her. She personally helped her to undress and wash, and soon Tanya was seated in front of a beautiful ornate mirror, arrayed in a breathtaking negligee of Paduasoy silk, ruffled and frilled, in a soft pastel green. Nita stood behind Tanya, brushing out her long, glowing hair almost reverently.
‘Such lovely hair,’ she sighed. ‘Never have I seen such rich tresses, not since his Highness’s mother’s. Now there was a beautiful woman!’
‘Tell me about her,’ commanded Tanya.
‘There is little to tell. She died when the Prince was born.’ Her voice was muted, and she sounded unwilling to say more. ‘His father never forgave him.’
‘What a great pity. It is so unfair to blame a child for such a tragedy. He must have loved her very much.’
‘Yes. She had hair that was the colour of the ripe corn of my native Poland. It used to tumble down her back just as yours does, but of course, yours is much richer in colour.’
‘However is the Prince so dark then?’ marvelled Tanya.
‘He favours his father,’ Nita replied shortly and brushed more vigorously.
‘What happened to his brother then? If his mother died in childbirth, he must be the elder of the two. His brother would have been the Prince, I suppose, had he lived.’
Nita looked at her strangely for a moment, then she resumed brushing. ‘What you say is very true. He would have been. Now there was a lovely lad. He had his mother’s looks, so fair and tall, and sweet natured too. Such a pity!’
‘But what happened to him?’ asked Tanya curiously.
‘We do not speak of it in this house, and I should advise Your Highness to do the same. It would be most unwise to mention this matter in front of the Prince. I will arrange for a tray to be sent up to your room. Is there anything else Your Highness requires?’
Tanya hesitated, burning with curiosity, but unwilling to annoy someone who was quite obviously willing to be her ally. Perhaps she would be able to find out what had happened when she had settled in and got to know the old woman better. She shook her head.
‘No, there is nothing else, Nita. Thank you for your help. I will see you in the morning. Good night.’
The old woman curtsied and left the room, shutting the door quietly behind her. Tanya sat unmoving, staring at herself abstractedly in the mirror, her mind a whirl of mixed emotions. She was still there when a discreet knock sounded on the door, and it opened to reveal Anna’s sullen face. She was carrying a tray, and she crossed the room and set it down beside the bed, looking slyly at Tanya out of the corner of her eye, seemingly disconcerted by what she saw. Tanya got the impression that the girl was disappointed at the sight of her, that perhaps she had been hoping for someone different or plainer. A tiny seed of suspicion entered her mind. Perhaps the girl was in love with the Prince secretly. Immediately she felt sorry for her and gave her a sweet smile.
‘Thank you, Anna,’ she said kindly. ‘I shall not require you further. Sleep well.’
The girl dropped a curtsey so small as to be almost insolent, but kept her eyes lowered. She went towards the door, and Tanya turned back to her mirror. Inadvertently, she caught a glimpse of Anna’s face over her shoulder, and the girl’s expression sent an involuntary chill up her back. Never had she seen such naked hate in one person’s face for another. She shivered, and the face disappeared behind the door. She felt very much like bolting it, although she couldn’t explain why, but was afraid the Prince would wish to visit her, so shook off her forebodings and forced herself to eat the food on the tray. She drank all the wine, wishing to make herself sleepy, for she had the feeling she would be unable to get any rest otherwise. She tumbled into bed and very soon was fast asleep. So deep was her slumber that she didn’t stir when, a few hours later, a shadowy figure entered, stooped over her bed, and, dropping a kiss on her forehead, stole away again.
Tanya awoke to such a cacophony of sound that she felt quite bemused, wondering for the moment where she was. Then she became aware of her surroundings and realised that the din was, in fact, many church bells ringing together in close proximity, the whole house vibrating with the noise. She wondered if they rang this loudly every morning. It was quite late, and she was just about to ring her bell, when the door opened and the Prince entered, fully dressed but a trifle heavy eyed.
‘Good morning, my dear. We let you sleep this morning to recuperate from your long, tiring journey. How do you feel?’
‘Marvellous’ cried Tanya, stretching. ‘And dying to explore. Will you take me around and show me the sights?’
‘I’m afraid there are very few sights really. You would be disappointed. I have to return to the Kremlin, the Tsar has commanded my presence again. However, I have also received a gracious invitation for us to dine with the Tsar tomorrow evening. Soon after, he is leaving on his travels again. You are lucky that he is holding this banquet in the Kremlin – a most unusual occurrence. Nowadays, he holds nearly all his, er, entertainments in the palace that he built here in the quarter for Lefort – whom no doubt you will meet tomorrow. He is the Tsar’s favourite and leads him into every conceivable excess and folly. Actually, I believe Peter hates the Kremlin – always has done, but some whim has made him decide to hold this particular reception there. Do not be shocked by anything you may see or hear. Despite his recent visit to the West, Peter still has a lot to learn about matters of taste and refinement. He has a great love of buffoonery and an uncertain temper.’
‘How did he take the news of our marriage?’ asked Tanya tentatively. ‘I understand he is not very fond of Swedes – does he know I am Swedish? Did you tell him I am also half French?’
Mensherikovsky laughed. ‘Yes, I definitely emphasised the French part. But do not worry your little head over that. The Tsar is, after all, only a man, and one very susceptible to beautiful women – I doubt very much that he will find any fault with you. As for my marriage, apart from missing the wedding feast, he had little to say on the subject. I must go now, I will send your maid up to you.’
‘No.’ The word was out before Tanya could stop it. ‘No, not her. I don’t want her for my maid. Can’t I have someone else? Someone of my own choosing? I don’t like her, I find her offensive.’
‘Do you now?’ He looked at her reflectively for a moment and frowned. ‘Has she said anything to you? Tell me!’
‘No, what could she say? I just don’t like the way she looks at me, as though she hated me, and would willingly do me a mischief if she could. Why should she hate me? She has never seen me before. May I choose my own maid?’
‘Of course,’ he replied. ‘I think I shall get rid of her. Yes, most definitely. She has become an unnecessary burden. I will send Nita to you instead. Farewell, I shall see you later. Amuse yourself in whatever way you wish. I expect you will wish to look around the city markets, perhaps. You should take guards with you if you do. Only foreign women walk out in Moscow, I should tell you, most Russian wives stay inside.’
Before she could ask him to explain his remarks, he was gone, and Tanya lay back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling with a little frown between her eyes. Nita, observing this a few minutes later when she entered, looked sad.
‘Why do you frown, my lady?’ she asked. ‘It is a pity to mar such loveliness with a frown.’
Tanya smiled at her. ‘Oh, nothing, just foolishness,’ she answered and took the chocolate offered to her. This new fashion, set by the court of France, was one that the Prince had retained from his sojourn there, and Tanya had begun to enjoy this little luxury. In fact, she was sure she would never tire of any of life’s luxuries. She knew only too well what it was like without them. Sometimes she would look back upon her simple, uncomplicated life with Sten’ka and feel a little ashamed of herself. How quickly she had acquired a taste for soft living. She shrugged these memories off impatiently and jumped out of bed.
The morning passed pleasantly enough, exploring the house further and choosing a new maid from the line of giggling young peasant girls lined up for her inspection. She chose a shy, pleasant-faced girl, with long flaxen plaits braided up over her head and bright kind eyes. She was obviously quite overcome by the honour that was to be hers and stammered her thanks, curtseying rapidly. Her name was Veda, and she followed Tanya to her room in a kind of daze, answering her questions shyly. She was Russian by birth and had been a serf all her life. Tanya felt a great pity for her and resolved to see if she could persuade the Prince to free the girl. She spoke to Nita who produced a plain blue dress for Veda to wear, and a white apron. Tanya could not bear to see the drab, brown cloth of the usual peasant garb; it reminded her too much of what she had once had to wear, day after day.
Veda was soon back, her face flushed, her healthy young skin glowing with pride. Tanya left her hanging gowns and tidying her bedroom and began to walk down the corridor, feeling hungry now, and wondering what time lunch would be served. Suddenly, she was startled by a hand reaching out and grabbing her arm viciously, the nails digging into her skin. She gave a gasp and tried to pull away. Then she saw that her aggressor was Anna.
‘So you’ve lost me my job, have you, you bitch,’ she snarled, her eyes spitting venom, her hands clenched like claws. ‘Well, you little fool, it won’t last. It’s me he loves, not you. I’ve been his mistress for over a year. I was sure he was going to marry me. I’d have made him. If only I had become with child, I know he would have. Then you come along. I’d like to see you dead at my feet, do you hear?’ her voice rose to a scream. ‘He loves me, me! I was right for him, we understood one another. And now he turns me out, on your say so. Well, you haven’t seen the last of me. I’ll pay you back, Swedish slut,’ she spat at Tanya, who felt the saliva run down her face. A blind, unreasoning rage took hold of her, and she struck at the girl with all her strength. Anna staggered back, a red patch, forming on her face.
‘Get out of this house, whore,’ panted Tanya furiously. ‘Don’t let me see your vile face again. My husband could never have loved you. Your body, perhaps, but not you. As for his marrying you – ha! You don’t really believe he’d marry that far beneath him. Now get out.’
For a moment, Tanya thought Anna was going to attack her, then she seemed to remember where she was, and she let go of Tanya’s arm. She could feel the blood trickling down, where the girl’s nails had dug into her flesh. Anna cast a venomous look at her.
‘I’ll get even for that,’ she grated, then she was gone, running away towards the servants’ stairs.
Tanya drew a shaking hand across her forehead and leaned back against the wall. The incident had shaken her more than she realised, and she felt ashamed of herself for losing her temper with a servant. She should have been calm and reasonable. But how could one be calm and reasonable in such circumstances? At least, she understood the girl’s hatred of her. In her eyes, she had supplanted her, taken her place. She felt her anger rising again, this time directed at Mensherikovsky. How dare he allow his mistress to be made her personal servant? She wondered whose orders had given Anna the job but guessed the girl herself had probably had some influence then and had arranged things. Now she understood the look of amusement on her husband’s face, when he had seen Anna curtseying to her new mistress. How dare he laugh at her? Why hadn’t he put the matter right, instead of leaving things as they were? Her hunger forgotten, she hurried to her husband’s apartments. His valet was there and turned a surprised face at her tempestuous entry. He told her that his master was due back at any moment and respectfully left her. She paced up and down the room, whipping herself up into a rage. However, it was about half an hour before the Prince entered the apartment, by which time she had magnified the incident out of all proportion. Mensherikovsky stopped short at the sight of his wife, his brows lifted.
‘Ah, Tanya, my dear. To what do I owe this pleasure?’
‘Don’t try and soft talk me,’ she fumed. She thrust her arm out towards him.
‘Do you see that?’ He looked at her arm, and saw the dried blood on it. ‘Do you know who did that? I’ll tell you. Your mistress, your whore, that’s who! How dare you, how dare you foist your harlot on to me! She attacked me, told me you were going to marry her before I appeared on the scene. Ha! You would have made a fine couple.’
He stepped towards her, gripping her wrist tightly. ‘Did she hurt you?’ he asked harshly.
‘No, but I hurt her. I slapped her so hard. She spat at me – me, Tanya de la Verrière. Let go of me. Let go, or I shall slap you too.’
Anger flared in his eyes for a moment; then he pulled her roughly towards him, twisting her arms behind her cruelly. She cried out and struggled furiously, so angry she scarcely knew what she was doing.
‘This is how I love you best,’ he cried exultantly and, bending his head, kissed her passionately. She struggled again but gradually her struggles lessened, until with a moan of surrender, she threw her arm around his neck, returning his kiss. He let go of her other arm and, lifting her up against him, carried her over to the bed.
‘My lord,’ she whispered. ‘What if someone should come in? It is the middle of the day.’
‘I don’t care,’ he answered, fumbling at the laces of her gown. ‘I do as I please in my own house, and no one would dare enter my chambers without knocking and receiving my permission. Damn these laces. Damn all women’s fripperies. Why do you have to wear so many clothes?’
Tanya laughed softly and helped his eager fingers to unlace the bodice. He gave a moan at the sight of her white breasts and buried his face between them, kissing her hungrily. She threw her head back as the now-familiar feeling of languor overcame her, and the delicious warmth spread through her body. Sometimes she felt quite ashamed at her own sensuousness, at the feeling that this was what she was made for. Then all thoughts fled as she felt his hands caressing her, and for a few sweet moments, there was only the two of them in all the world. She heard a voice calling out strangely, as though from far away, and only afterwards did she realise that voice had been hers. This man might not hold her heart, but her body was a complete slave to him. He awoke in her such ecstasies, still so newly discovered that she could not resist him. It was at moments like this, when they lay exhausted in one another’s arms and he seemed vulnerable and young that she felt the most tenderness for him. She kissed his eyelids gently, wiping away the sweat from his face with her hair, which had escaped from its bondage and cascaded down her back. He opened his eyes and looked at her with an expression almost of pain.
‘I love you too much,’ he groaned. ‘No