Anna stood back to admire the shimmering Christmas tree.
When the candles were lit tonight, it would rival even the trees of the Imperial Court. How her mistress had managed it on the shrunken finances of her new household, Anna could not imagine. But she was glad Princess Katrina had done so, even if they had to trim back someplace else.
The year had been a difficult one. It was time for a festive celebration. The fear and oppression fostered by all the unrest and rebellion was gradually lifting from the city. Residents breathed a little easier and ventured out of their homes with a renewed air of security. That alone gave reason to celebrate.
Misha had told her recently that many ministers and governmental officials were dispensing with their Cossack guards. Anna was glad that the streets of St. Petersburg were safe once more, although Anna could not avoid conflicting feelings over the cause for the change. Governor-general Melikov’s relentless crackdown on subversive and revolutionary elements within the city had resulted in many arrests. She could not help worrying about Paul. The news had it that Melikov was primarily after ringleaders rather than rank-and-file followers. But where Paul might fit into the underground hierarchy, she hadn’t an idea. All she could do was pray daily that he would escape the government’s ever-spreading net long enough to come to his senses.
In spite of her concerns about her brother, the peace and relative tranquility of the city were certainly welcome. It went far to dispel the gloomy atmosphere settling upon Anna’s personal world.
For herself, she could and would survive Sergei’s absence with tolerable equanimity. She was, after all, more accustomed to his absence than his presence. The change to the new environment of the Remizov household had been more jarring to the daily ups and downs of her life than Sergei’s reassignment.
But the occasional letters, which reached her via Misha’s hand, were not encouraging. When writing to her, Sergei did his best to put a brave and stoic face on it. But she could tell he was miserable. And not just from their separation, but from the horrible conditions at his new outpost.
Most frustrating of all was her helplessness. All she could do for him was remind him every time she wrote that her prayers were with him.
Katrina’s melancholy, so much closer at hand, was more pressing to Anna at the moment. The physician gave his assurance that the princess’s moods were nothing more than a natural consequence of her condition. For the most part, Anna supposed he was right. But she knew it went deeper than that.
She could not blame it all on Dmitri. On the other hand, she knew that a change in his present behavior would go far to lift Katrina’s spirits. He had continued for months to spend more and more time away from the estate on so-called army business. It was obvious to all that the epithet was no more than a thinly masked way of saying he was out carousing with friends who happened to wear the Russian army uniform. Anna sensed, however, that his unseemly conduct did not mirror whatever was troubling his expertly veiled mind.
He had arrived home very late one night, as had become his habit, early in the month. The princess had long since abandoned the hope of waiting up for him, and had retired. Anna had not been able to sleep, and had finally risen and was on her way to the kitchen to prepare some tea for herself. Crossing the entryway, she heard a fumbling with the latch on the front door. Knowing it to be Dmitri, she quickened her step to avoid an encounter.
But it was too late. The door opened the next moment.
“Anna . . . Anna,” she heard behind her. “Is a maid’s work never done?” His tone was slurred, the content of his business that night all too apparent.
“No, Your Excellency,” replied Anna, turning to face him. “I just could not sleep.”
“Well, I am glad it was you I ran into and not . . . someone else.” He swayed unsteadily on his feet. “People do talk, you know.”
He leaned clumsily toward her and gave her a conspiratorial wink. “You can keep a secret, though, can you not, Anna?” he said.
“Yes, Your Excellency.”
He laughed. “Except in life-or-death situations, eh, Anna?”
“I—I don’t understand.”
“You told Katrina’s secret about me, to save her from the clutches of that maniac, remember?”
“Yes, sir, I do.”
“You saved her life and you brought us together. We have you alone to thank for our marital bliss. A regular cupid, you are!” His tone, harsh and caustic, gave a sarcastic twist to his words.
“Your Excellency, let me get a footman to help you up the stairs.”
“Shame on you, Anna! I’m steady as a rock.”
As if to prove his boast, Dmitri lifted a foot and held out an arm in an effort to demonstrate his balance. He reeled backward, toppling over.
Anna stepped quickly forward. She could hardly have kept him from crashing to the floor, but grabbing her shoulder with one hand and bracing the other against the nearby wall, he managed to keep himself upright. Steadying himself, he kept a firm grasp on Anna’s shoulder. Then he turned, pressed closer, and attempted to focus his bleary-eyed gaze upon her. Anna’s heart thudded uncomfortably within her. Surely the count would not forget common decency in his drunken state!
“You know, Anna,” he said, his voice almost earnest, “you are a devilishly pretty girl.”
He took her chin in his hand and studied her as if for the first time. “Very beautiful indeed . . . I can see why Sergei fell in love with you.”
Anna gaped in stunned silence. Perhaps it should not have been so surprising that Sergei had told his best friend. After all, she had confided in Misha. But for it to come out now, like this, so unexpectedly! She was so taken aback that she could force no response.
Dmitri grinned. There was no maliciousness in the smile, but rather an almost brotherly sympathy.
“I am sorry,” he said sincerely. “I didn’t mean to . . . well, I see I have embarrassed you. . . . I won’t say another word. I don’t know what came over me.” He let go of her shoulder and fell back against the wall. Then the grin faded, and with it his inebriated joviality. He let out a deep breath. “You must think me a drunken sot—a fool.”
“Please, Your Excellency,” Anna insisted, “let me call a footman.”
“You are a good girl, Anna. You really are. You will always watch over the both of us.”
“I will do what I can, Your Excellency.”
“Katrina is fortunate to have you. You’ll always take care of her for me, won’t you?”
“Of course, Your Excellency.”
“I am sure she did better in choosing a maid than she did a husband.”
“That is not true, Your Excellency.”
“Do you dare call your master a liar?” he said, raising one eyebrow. “Ah, but it is true,” he sighed. “Sad but true, as they say. I did so want to make her happy, but . . .”
He paused and shook his head. “You know,” he went on after a moment, “I once boxed a bear. I really did. For a meager twenty-ruble wager, I climbed into that cage and boxed the hairy creature. I felt not an ounce of trepidation, either. Nor did the fact that I was more than half drunk have anything to do with it. I once rode two stallions together at full trot for half a vesta. And I tottered on the ledge of a third-story window in dead of winter and swallowed a bottle of rum. I—”
He stopped, shaking his head once more. “Anna . . . do you want to know the truth? I have never been afraid of anything in my life, until now . . .”
“Your Excellency—”
“Anna, I am quite drunk. Would you . . . would you point me in the direction of the stairs? I will be able to make it from there.”
“Yes, sir.”
Anna did as he had requested, watching him tensely as he made his shaky way to the top of the long flight.
But she found herself unable to relax even when he had reached the top safely. As she continued on her way to the kitchen, she found no small consternation still bubbling about inside her. Except for her talk with him about Basil Anickin prior to the wedding, she had never had any further personal contact with the husband of her mistress. Why had he now suddenly revealed such an intimate and vulnerable side of himself? And why to her? She was no confidante. What could it do but cause additional tension in the household?
It set her mind greatly at ease when she encountered the count the following morning. He made no intimation whatever about the previous night’s interlude. The look on his face gave not the slightest hint that he even remembered it. He had probably been too drunk to remember.
She knew Katrina was utterly unaware of her husband’s insecurities. Any of his acquaintances would have insisted that Count Dmitri Remizov possessed not an insecure bone in his body. The trouble was, very few people ever truly knew him.
Anna found herself wishing for Sergei’s presence all over again, though for different reasons. He would be capable of helping his sister understand her husband better.
But he was a thousand miles away. It was probably no accident that Dmitri had chosen only a timid maid to receive a brief glimpse of his innermost self. The secret of his vulnerability was safe in the heart where also dwelt the love of his best friend.