Anna and Sergei’s next visit with Dmitri and Eugenia proved even more disconcerting than the last. They had little chance to be alone with Mariana. It almost seemed as if she were being protected from them.
They had come early in the afternoon in hopes of finding the count and his mother gone or occupied with other obligations. Unfortunately, they were at home and refused to leave. A very uncomfortable luncheon was served, and immediately afterward, Eugenia told Mariana to entertain her little brothers while the grown-ups visited in private. Mariana obeyed, although it was apparent she, too, was disappointed at not having more time with her mama and papa.
The elders left the young people and retired to the parlor. Dmitri barely had a chance to close the door when Eugenia began in her harsh, unfriendly manner.
“I believe it is time we had a little talk.” She sat down. Perhaps it was mere coincidence that the chair she chose, with its high, winged back and rich red velvet upholstery, curiously resembled a throne.
When she made no offer of seats to her guests, Sergei, his eyes gleaming with defiance, moved a smaller, plainer chair in place for Anna. After his wife was seated, he pulled another chair up for himself. Dmitri stood by the carved oak mantel, lighting a cigarette and trying to look detached.
“What is on your mind, Countess Eugenia?” Sergei purposely addressed her as an equal. He could tell by her grimace that the presumption galled her.
“I think you know very well,” she replied. “My granddaughter is on my mind.”
“And she is very much on ours also.”
“That is why I must ask, Sergei Ivanovich, what are your intentions?”
“We sensed from Mariana’s letters that she missed her family and that she was not completely content.”
“Why, that ungrateful little—!”
“You had best watch what you say, Eugenia!” warned Sergei.
“How dare you speak in such a tone—”
Anna broke in, her tone more controlled and conciliatory than her husband’s. “Countess Eugenia, I am certain we can discuss Mariana’s welfare in a calm, civil manner. But you must understand that we are very close to her and want only the best for her.”
Eugenia sniffed with disdain. “If you really wanted the best for her, you would not have come here to interfere with her life.”
“We missed her,” protested Anna. “We let her come here under the impression that Dmitri would bring her home more often for visits. And, after only three visits in all the time—”
“That’s what I mean! You care nothing for her if you’d have her mingling with peasants, staying in a dirty, vermin-infested shack. She is a countess, deserving of better.”
“At least in her peasant shack”—Sergei slurred the word with contempt—”she was content and happy. I can’t say the same for where she is now.” He jumped up and glared at Dmitri, who was still smoking, though rather nervously at the moment. “Tell me, Dmitri, can you honestly say she is as happy now as she was when you saw her in Katyk?”
Dmitri met the stark challenge with an uneasy cough as he blew out a stream of smoke. “Well, uh . . . I’d say she has adjusted quite well.”
“Only because she hasn’t wanted to break your heart—she’s too young to realize you don’t have one!”
“Now, see here, Sergei,” sputtered Dmitri, “that kind of tone is uncalled for . . . really.”
Sergei forced himself to calm down. He was losing control—or rather, not submitting control to his Lord. This whole matter was too emotionally charged, both with present difficulties and with lingering bitterness from the past. When he spoke again, his tone was more subdued, but it contained a determined resolve. “I am completely displeased with the way this arrangement has turned out. I permitted it only because it was Mariana’s wish. Now, however, I have decided that if it is again her wish, we will terminate the arrangement and Mariana will return to Katyk with us.”
This bold, impetuous statement took everyone by surprise, including Anna. But she was pleased, too, realizing it was time this fiasco was taken into a firm hand. She had no doubt Mariana would want to return home. What she didn’t take into account was Eugenia’s astonishing and vindictive response.
“Now I am certain you care nothing for the girl’s welfare,” Eugenia said. “For your own selfish appeasement you’d throw away all the comforts and opportunity a girl could possibly hope for. I am forced to remind you that you, Sergei Ivanovich, are not the girl’s father. In fact, you have no authority over her at all.”
Anna and Sergei exchanged looks of utter dismay at this. The woman’s words were painfully true.
But Sergei was not ready to accept defeat without a fight. “Do you mean to tell me, Eugenia, that if Mariana wishes to come back to our village, you would keep her here against her will? Surely even you cannot be so heartless.”
“Young girls notoriously do not know their own minds; they need a strong parent to guide them appropriately.” They all knew she wasn’t referring to Dmitri, nor to Sergei. “And that is why Mariana will never be faced with such a choice.”
“What do you mean?” Sergei eyed the woman suspiciously. He knew now she would not have instigated this confrontation unless she was sure of her position.
“I mean, you will henceforth leave the girl alone,” said Eugenia, a hint of triumph glimmering in her eyes. “No—on second thought, you will encourage her to remain here, to embrace the life that has been handed her on a silver platter.”
“In eighteen years, I have never lied to Mariana, and I don’t intend to begin now.” Sergei reached down for Anna’s hand. “Come, Anna, it is time for us to leave.”
But Eugenia’s next words stopped them short. “Never lied, you say? Then she knows all about you, Sergei Viktorovich?”
Sergei shot a disbelieving look at Dmitri. This faithless act seemed the final blow to their flagging friendship.
Dmitri momentarily roused from his cowardly silence. “Mother! I told you that in confidence.”
“And it is the only sensible thing you have done during this entire affair.” Eugenia focused her cold eyes on Sergei. “Yes, I know who you really are, Prince Sergei Fedorcenko. And I tell you that for the child’s own good, I will not hesitate in turning you in to the authorities as the escaped fugitive you are.”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
“Just try me. But beware, if you do, it will never help Mariana, but rather will bring more shame and pain upon the girl than any child ought to bear. And you will end up doing just the opposite of what you intend—you will destroy her only chance at happiness.”
“And you say you care for Mariana!” accused Sergei. “You could not possibly know how to care for anyone.”
“How much have you cared for her all these years, allowing her to be brought up in the home of an escaped murderer?”
Sergei opened his mouth to impart an angry retort. Anna’s head was clearer, and she saw the futility of further argument with the woman. So she spoke before he had a chance. “Countess Eugenia,” she said stiffly, summoning all her strength to keep her tone even and civil, “will you give my husband and me some time to discuss this privately before we make a decision?”
“That is only fair,” said the countess. “Come, Dmitri, let’s step out of the room for a few minutes.”
“I was hoping for a day or two, away from the heat of this present moment,” said Anna.
“I want this settled now, tonight, before the girl’s life is further disrupted,” said Eugenia intractably.
She and Dmitri left the room, firmly closing the door behind them, but not before Dmitri cast a final, pathetically apologetic glance at his one-time friend.
Sergei had begun to pace and fume silently, fury etched across his face in a hard, uncharacteristic scowl. When the doors were shut, he spun around as if he would vent the full force of his ire at his wife.
“How could you be so conciliatory toward her? By the Saints! You don’t plan on bowing to her will, do you? Because I’ll tell you right now, Anna, you’ll not have my support if you do. Never—never!—will I succumb to that woman’s threats!” He crossed his arms and stared at her, panting from the exertion of his outburst.
Anna licked her trembling lips. Sergei had never spoken to her in that hard, angry tone before. The thought of this terrible affair dividing them was overwhelming. Tears rose to her eyes and spilled over, trailing sadly down her cheeks. Only with difficulty was she able to speak at all, much less with any semblance of calm reason.
“Sergei, we must take a moment to think before we act.”
Sergei hardly heard her words. His eyes, softened now, focused on her silent tears; his heart quaked in the knowledge that he had caused them.
“I’m sorry for yelling at you, Anna. You know it wasn’t really directed at you, don’t you?”
“I know, my dear.” She brushed a hand across her damp face. “Come and sit next to me and let’s talk.”
He sat down. “You believe we should give into Eugenia’s threats?” This time he asked rather than shouted.
“Sergei, I think you are too bound up in all that Dmitri and Eugenia represent to be able to look at this situation objectively. Don’t get me wrong, I am disgusted with Dmitri and appalled at Eugenia. Yet we need to look beyond those feelings and consider the other factors.”
“Which are?”
“First of all, just how unhappy is Mariana? Is her unhappiness severe enough for you to risk spending the rest of your life in Siberia?” She paused for a moment, but didn’t give him a chance to respond. Instead, she answered her own question with conviction. “I think not! Perhaps if her life were endangered . . . but it isn’t. Furthermore, I really don’t think Mariana wants to return to Katyk. I’ve had a chance to talk with her only a little, but it sounds to me as if she would like to give this life a chance. She is discovering new things about herself that she would like to continue to explore and develop. True, she doesn’t like Eugenia—who does? But we must consider how long she will have to be under that woman’s thumb. Mariana is eighteen. Boarding school could remove her from Eugenia’s direct influence. Before too long, perhaps, she will marry. But whatever happens, Mariana will be on her own very soon. Even Eugenia can’t stop that.”
“Oh, my wise, sensible wife! Sometimes you surprise even me, your hotheaded husband.” He placed his arm around her and gave her an affectionate squeeze. “I have one question: What if Eugenia does try to stop her? That woman thrives on control.”
“Let’s worry about crossing that field when we come to it. In the meantime, we will be near Mariana to insure that things don’t get out of hand. And, as much as I hate to admit it, I still think Dmitri will defend Mariana when he sees it is necessary.”
“Dmitri is nothing but a milksop these days. I doubt he has any will of his own.” Sergei could not help recalling the old days. When they were boys growing up together, Dmitri defiantly rebelled against his mother’s controlling nature.
“I believe that down deep he has a soft spot for Mariana—otherwise I wouldn’t have let her come here with him in the first place.”
Sergei sighed, remembering his initial irate refusals. Perhaps he, Sergei, had a soft spot for Anna. But his change of heart had as much to do with his own good sense telling him he must accept irrefutable logic. He gazed with pride at Anna. “You wasted yourself by not going to law school, my dear.”
“I found much more interesting things to do.” She smiled coyly at him.
“All right. You’ve won your case. But let’s not overwhelm the good count and countess with our submission. They must understand that they have control for a season only because we choose to give it to them. Our consent comes with provisions—the most important being that we shall have complete freedom to see Mariana.”
Anna nodded, more than glad to leave the remainder of the discussion with Dmitri and his mother to Sergei. All she wanted now was to spend what was left of the day with Mariana.