As the driver maneuvered the Roskov coach through the busy streets, Karena noticed many Byzantine-style churches. “Kazan once flourished as the capital of the Islamic kingdom of the Tartars until Ivan the Terrible sacked the city in 1552 and made it a part of Russia,” Karena mentioned to Tatiana and Natalia.
The two young women looked at each other and laughed.
Karena smiled at them. “Ha, ha,” she said dryly.
“Don’t allow my ignorance to trouble you, Karena,” Tatiana said. “I failed history in school.”
“You probably failed more than history,” Natalia goaded with a wicked grin.
Tatiana made a face at her.
“Now, if you’d care to discuss history with Alex, you might find a willing audience,” Tatiana continued to Karena. “He loves to debate theology, as well. He has this awful seminary cousin in America who bombards him with letters full of theological discussions. I told Alex he ought to discuss Christianity with Rasputin, but he only gave me a look. Alex is absolutely wonderful and maddening, all at the same time.”
Alex again. Is she baiting me? Karena wondered. From the corner of her eye, she saw Natalia’s warning glance. Karena needed no additional warning.
“I should know more about the Bible by the end of summer,” Karena said.
“The end of summer? Why is that?” Tatiana looked genuinely interested.
“Uncle Matvey’s come from St. Petersburg,” Natalia piped up. “Karena’s doing research for him on a new book about the Messiah.”
Tatiana narrowed her eyes at Karena. “The what?”
“Messiah,” Karena said pleasantly. “The promised Deliverer spoken of in the Jewish Torah, the Old Testament.”
“Oh. A Jewish problem.”
“No, it’s not that way at all—” began Karena, but Tatiana interrupted her.
“If anyone wishes to become truly spiritual,” she said, “Rasputin the starets is the one who can disciple them. He is so gifted by God. Even the czarina depends on him.”
A starets, from what Karena had heard, was a spiritual guide who gathered followers. Many of these men, usually self-proclaimed, were not officially recognized by the Russian Orthodox Church because they were outside the monastic hierarchy, living at times like hermits or traveling monks.
While Tatiana chattered on about Rasputin and mysticism, Karena turned her attention out the coach window. Several ethnic groups of Russians seemed to be represented in Kazan, their street clothing bearing witness from each district. Chinese, Bukharese, and black Africans, all mingled with Russian merchants, peasants, landed gentry, and aristocrats. What an interesting city. It’s going to be a delightful holiday!
The Roskov summer home artfully bespoke aristocracy. Kazan rugs covered the wide floors; golden, hand-carved wood shone with a warm gloss; and eastern tapestries hung on the high cream walls. Silver and crystal glittered from carefully placed lamp stands.
The servants carried Karena’s and Natalia’s portmanteaus up the graceful, winding staircase, and the housekeeper, flanked by two maids, stood at rapt attention as Madame Zofia imparted last-minute orders for the dinner and dancing this evening.
Zofia’s black hair was sleeked and rolled elegantly at the back of her swan neck and studded with a silk net of tiny seed pearls. One large milky pearl was mounted on gold near her lace collar. Her dove gray gown gave the onlooker the sensation that she might have been Princess Zofia Peshkova-Roskova.
Karena’s eye drifted to a painting on the wall of her aunt and uncle. Beside Zofia, Viktor, in uniform with his honey red mustache and deep-set eyes, looked as noble and unsmiling as a Romanov. Karena suspected that was why the great painting was prominently placed. Nearby, in a painting all her own, was Tatiana.
Her instructions complete, Madame Zofia joined the girls at the staircase to walk them to their rooms.
“Two balls in two nights,” Natalia said, awed.
“My dear niece,” Zofia replied as they mounted the stairs, “in St. Petersburg, there are balls every night. One grows accustomed to such demands. If I did not give frequent balls and entertainments while summering here in Kazan, I would be rejected socially and left out when we return to our winter residence.” She smiled. “One looks forward to a quiet holiday in the Crimea.”
Tatiana laughed at Natalia’s expression. Karena only smiled.
“At certain seasons of the year,” Tatiana said, “we dance our way from ball to ball, six days a week, for months. If it isn’t a ball somewhere, it’s the opera or dinners or sleigh rides.”
“One must have very good shoes,” Natalia said.
They laughed, and Madame Zofia put an arm around her waist.
“On the wheat farm, we have none,” Karena said. “Balls, that is. Kiev, of course, is very different, though we do attend the opera as a family. So you see, we are very excited about the dancing. And grateful, Aunt Zofia.”
“My dears, we are delighted to have you with us for two weeks. I wish you could extend your stay until September. I was telling Tatiana only last week that we so seldom see you.”
“They can’t stay until September,” Tatiana said. “Karena is helping her uncle research a new book.”
“Oh, is Matvey writing another book? Splendid. Then you and Natalia should come to St. Petersburg this Christmas season. I’ll badger Josef about coming, too,” she said of her brother. “And he simply must force Yeva to come with him. The last time your papa visited me, he came alone.”
Karena’s mother, because she was Jewish and had married Josef after his first wife died, was uncomfortable with the Roskov family. She felt they had never accepted her. Karena did not know if that were true. She, herself, had always been treated well by Papa Josef’s two older sisters, Aunt Marta and Aunt Zofia.
“Mother’s an old stick-in-the-mud,” Natalia said as they went down the long upstairs hall, their footsteps softened by a golden carpet. The wall sconces burned cheerfully, and not a corner of the hallway held a shadow of gloom.
“She won’t leave the manor for anything except to treat cases of illness among the peasants or deliver a baby,” Natalia continued.
“So dedicated. And our dear Karena is following in her footsteps, all the way to medical college in St. Petersburg,” Tatiana said, smiling.
“I hope I shall be accepted this time,” Karena answered.
They came to an adjoining bedroom. The upstairs maid opened the door from the inside and stepped aside. “Everything is ready, Madame Zofia.”
“Tell Gawrie to have my nieces’ trunks brought up as soon as they arrive from the dock. And tell Katerina to send up tea.” Zofia turned to Karena and Natalia. “We won’t keep you talking long. You must have some quiet and rest before the ball tonight.”
The two bedrooms were done in light pink and ivory tulle and joined together by a large vanity room with mirrors. It contrasted sharply with what Karena and her sister had at the manor.
“Tonight will be so exciting,” Tatiana said. “Karena will meet Dr. Zinnovy, and my other surprise guest will stun everyone.”
Madame Zofia sighed heavily. “After last night’s tragedy, I would gladly annul this ball tonight if I could. Unfortunately—”
“Annul it? Mother, impossible! I won’t hear of it.”
“I know we can’t postpone it. Viktor, too, tells me he has an important official coming tonight. Besides, I know exactly what would happen. If I postponed the event, the scandal of last night would spread even faster.”
Scandal? wondered Karena. The lines around Madame Zofia’s mouth tightened, and a glance toward Tatiana showed an unsmiling face. She began to massage her forehead in a poor attempt at theatrics, and Natalia caught Karena’s gaze and tried not to smile.
“Already there are rumors,” Madame Zofia said. “For Tatania’s sake, I must proceed tonight as planned.”
“What scandal? Or should we not inquire?” Karena asked in a sympathetic voice. She had a strong affection for her aunt and felt sorry for her. Tatiana pushed ahead with her plans with little consideration for her mother. As for Viktor, he probably didn’t care what his daughter did, as long as she married an excellent soldier. Karena suspected Uncle Viktor adored Colonel Kronstadt.
“Perhaps it’s better not to discuss it now,” Madame Zofia said with a concerned glance at Tatiana, who had turned her back toward them and dramatically pressed a perfumed handkerchief to her mouth.
“No no, my cousins should know the truth,” Tatiana said. “Tell them, Mother.”
Madame Zofia fingered the lace on her collar. “We had a monumental tragedy last night.” She lowered her voice. “One of the many young men in love with my daughter insulted Colonel Kronstadt in front of her and the guests. It was dreadful.” She placed a slender hand to her forehead and shook her head, eyes closed, but this time Karena read genuine dismay.
“I can see it still—that red wine all over the front of his white dress uniform and face—to force a duel, you see.” She crumpled her lace handkerchief in her palm. “It was the only way Captain Yevgenyev could break Alex’s composure. Alex, of course, had to accept the challenge or be branded a coward.”
Karena stared.
Madame Zofia heaved a sigh. “So … the duel will take place next month in St. Petersburg.” She paced rapidly. “Oh! Awful! Poor Alex. And the scandal stains Tatiana as well.”
Tatiana, who’d been standing with her back toward them, head bent in a waxen pose, now whirled, full of vigor. “Stains me! I don’t see that. Why should it?”
“Your reputation, darling—”
“My reputation is stained because two very excellent men care enough about me to duel for me? Hah! I like that! See how my mother underappreciates me?” She looked at Karena, then back to Madame Zofia, who wore a pained expression.
“Darling—”
“A good many women can’t even get a man to defend them in a brawl, let alone have honorable soldiers fight a duel over them. A duel is customary when a soldier is insulted. I see no reason to believe either Alex or I have had our reputations ‘stained’ in the slightest.”
Tatiana stopped for breath, her handkerchief hanging limp from her jeweled hand.
Karena looked at her in silence. Natalia slowly sat down on the edge of a green velveteen chair.
Madame Zofia went to her daughter, trying to get her to sit down. “Tatiana, darling, you’re all upset. I’m sorry I brought it up, but you must see that while I’m not suggesting you’re at fault—”
“At fault! Of course I’m not, Mother.”
“Even so, your friends—and mine—will talk about this for weeks. And if Alex or Karl is wounded in this absurd duel—”
“It won’t go that far,” Tatiana insisted. “I won’t allow it. Sometimes Rasputin can foretell what will happen. I’ll ask him.”
Karena turned away to conceal her emotions. Her cousin hadn’t always been this way, had she?
“If we go forward, we have not an hour to lose.” Madame Zofia turned to Karena and Natalia. “My dears, do you have proper gowns to wear? silk stockings? slippers?”
Natalia sighed wistfully and looked at Karena.
Karena laughed. “Well, not exactly, but we each brought a dinner dress.”
“Really, Mother,” Tatiana said, “they’re not likely to be hauling French gowns from Uncle Josef’s farm. However, I’ve silk stockings to spare. I was going to give them each a pair as a gift anyway.”
Madame Zofia smiled. “Well, I’m sure you’ll be fine.” She glanced at the clock on the table by the window and threw her palm to her forehead, her gold bracelet shining. “It’s already noon. I wonder if Svetlana was able to order the extra piglet. I must go check. That girl is so forgetful. Ah, here is your tea.”
A maid entered with a tray, and Tatiana moved toward the door. “I must begin getting my hair ready,” she called over her shoulder. “If you need anything, come to my room at the end of the hall.”
“Yes, do,” Madame Zofia said warmly. “I shall see you girls later.”
Karena called her thanks as her aunt moved with stately purpose through the door, muttering to herself. “I’ve simply a horrid notion that Svetlana forgot the extra piglet. Well then, I’ll need to settle on lamb, that’s all there is to it. Everyone enjoys lamb.”
The bedroom grew silent except for the sound of tea being poured into china cups by the round-cheeked maid. Her stiff satin skirts made a scratching sound as she moved. She left quietly, shutting the door.
Karena turned slowly and looked at her sister. Natalia’s face was tired and tense. She groaned, massaging her temples. “I wish I’d stayed home.”
Karena drew in a breath and tucked a strand of loose hair back into the braided coil. “Let’s have tea. We’ll feel better. A nice bath and a brief nap, and we’ll be ready to whirl about the fancy ballroom. At least Dr. Zinnovy will be here. I’m still shocked by that.”
Natalia lifted her head. “I’m surprised Tatiana would trouble herself to arrange the meeting for you. I may be cynical, but my first guess is there’s something in it for her.”
“I hardly think so. She seemed quite genuine about having arranged it.” Karena smiled. “And she did promise us each a pair of silk stockings. I’m going to take complete and selfish advantage of her offer. Imagine, silk.” She pulled up the hem of her traveling skirt, exposing her cotton hose, and made a face.
Natalia laughed. “Come on,” she said. “It will take us all afternoon to get ready.”
Alex returned to the Roskov residence that afternoon and entered his bedroom with a scowl. He had laid out his future with the care of an architect, and now, while the structure was just being raised, he felt the tremors of an earthquake.
He threw his jacket on the bed. “If not an earthquake, then a blizzard!”
“Is something wrong, sir?” Konni, the tall valet who had long been in the service of Alex’s stepmother, came from the next room at the sound of the door snapping shut. Konni had cared for Alex in childhood until he went to cadet school. Even now, Konni usually traveled with him when Alex was not staying in officers’ quarters. Alex had requested his assistance on the journey to Kazan mostly because he was fond of the old gentleman.
“What could possibly go wrong?” Alex asked dryly.
Konni’s face was expressionless as he picked up Alex’s coat and hung it properly until he could take it out to brush it.
“My plans were made,” Alex said, “and now, suddenly, something occurs that threatens to send them crashing down in ruin—if I allow it, which, of course, I will not.”
“Just so, sir.”
Alex sighed and rubbed his face. “The aroma of coffee tempts me.”
“The coffee is here, sir, waiting as usual.” Konni went into the adjoining room and returned with a silver serving tray
“This ruinous occurrence, sir … Do you speak of a woman?”
Alex scowled in his direction, undoing the buttons on his shirt. “Now why would you ever think that? Since when does a woman, even a charming young woman, ever ruin a man’s sensible plans?”
“Just so, sir,” Konni said, not fooled at all. “I saw her alight from the coach. Most charming in her red hat.”
“That red hat! And now I can’t get her out of my mind. Miss Karena Peshkova has supplanted Tatiana. How could I have allowed it?” Alex tossed his shirt onto the bed and groaned. “Her eyes, Konni, blue as a periwinkle. And a mouth that needs to be kissed.”
Konni made a clucking sound of sympathy as he poured Alex’s coffee. “And completely the opposite of Miss Tatiana, I should say. While one is dark, the other is fair. While Miss Tatiana is strong-willed and assertive, Miss Peshkova shows sweet discernment and proper sense—”
“That will be enough. If I hear any more of your wisdom, I shall break down and weep in my coffee.” He took the cup from the tray. “How do you know she’s sweet? She might, beneath that aura of fairness, be a pickle.”
“A guess, sir. A girl with a red hat is always sweet.”
“A brilliant deduction.”
Konni lifted a note from the table and carried it to him on a small salver. “From Miss Tatiana, sir.”
Alex opened it and read the brief note. “Rasputin,” he muttered.
“I beg your pardon, sir.”
“The magnanimous Crow sisters are bringing Rasputin to meet the guests tonight, and I am blessed to be among the chosen few. From what I’ve heard, Konni, he’s a boor. It bothers me that Tatiana is so taken by him.”
“Yes sir, I quite understand. And all the more distressing when your military advancement is based upon marrying her.”
Alex glared at him. “You make it sound like I’m about to take on a liability.”
“Oh, no sir! Miss Tatiana is very beautiful.” Konni looked as innocent and saintly as ever.
“This marriage arrangement is deceiving no one.” Alex tossed the note onto the table. “Tatiana has her reasons, as I have mine.”
“And now, sir, there’s the duel to be fought. A very worrisome matter.” Konni frowned slightly.
“That couldn’t be helped,” Alex said. “Yevgenyev’s malice goes beyond Miss Roskova. This is a personal grievance.” He sank into a chair and propped his feet up. Konni refilled his cup.
“I must say, Konni, I was a little surprised to discover Miss Peshkova and her sister were Tatiana’s cousins. She’s not mentioned them before.”
“With good reason, perhaps, sir.”
Alex put a hand behind his head and leaned back. He’d been on business for General Roskov all afternoon, and he was not looking forward to the evening.
Weariness, however, was not his only reason for contemplating how he might quietly escape the ball. The next two weeks could, if he allowed it, develop into a situation he wished to avoid. Alex finished his coffee and scowled at the cup. He pondered the moment of awareness that had occurred when he spoke with Karena Peshkova and marveled at how easily his plans could to be put in jeopardy by the arrival of a lovely girl with a red hat.
“The question, Konni, is what do I do about it, if anything?”
“You have my sympathy, sir. Ambition is a harsh taskmaster. Pardon me for saying so, but you are not the only one who wrestles with it. Miss Tatiana also seems an ambitious woman.”
“If I were smart,” Alex told Konni, “I’d pack my bag now and make some excuse to rejoin the Sokolov twins in St. Petersburg.”
Konni looked at him soberly from across the room, then went to the wardrobe and took out the travel bags. “I could always claim you came down with the Russian grippe, sir.”
“English grippe.”
“As you say.”
Alex drummed his fingers on the arm of the leather chair. He looked up at the ceiling and considered his options.
“I have never been a coward when it comes to women,” he said, “and I won’t start now. Who knows? By the time the clock strikes midnight, this attraction may have disintegrated. I’ll come home from the ball with a clear mind, amused to think I even considered her.”
“It often happens, sir. Then again, it might turn out the other way. In which case, you won’t come home amused, sir, but smitten to the core by a poisoned arrow—straight to the heart. Then, sir, there’s no hope.”
Alex narrowed his gaze. “You’re most graphic, Konni. Yes … it could happen as you say, but I won’t allow it to happen to me. She’s just a girl. A little girl with braids.”
“Just so, sir.” Konni replaced the travel bags and closed the wardrobe doors.
Alex was sure he’d seen old Konni’s lip twitch with secret amusement.
Konni disappeared into the other room, and Alex leaned his head back against the chair and shut his eyes, hoping to sleep for an hour before going downstairs.
His plans for the future were too important to let slip from his grasp. If he must change them at all, he would do so only if he knew the military would not reward him with the future he wanted. In that situation, he might consider joining Michael in New York.
He stretched like a lazy lynx. What was another beautiful young woman? Brunettes, blondes, redheads—what did it matter? There were many such women. Karena Peshkova was simply one more. Tatiana was enough for any man. After two weeks, the girl with the golden braids and red hat would be a vanishing memory. She would return to Kiev, he to St. Petersburg. The war would come, and this brief episode would fade, carried along with the winds of time.
Alex drifted off sleep.
The afternoon was filled with last-minute preparations. Karena enjoyed her soak in the tub, then arranged her long, fair hair into the latest fashion with assistance from the able hands of Madame Zofia’s personal maid. Having accomplished that intricate task, and well satisfied with the effect, Karena put on her modest peach and ivory dress with lace trim. This was her best evening dress, the one she wore to the opera in Kiev when Papa Josef took the family once a year to see Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake.
As Karena stood for Natalia to button the clasp at the back of her neck, the bedroom door opened and Tatiana breezed in, smiling.
“Silk stockings, darlings!” She dropped two new pairs on the large, satin-covered bed.
“Ooh, delightful,” said Natalia, picking up a pair.
Karena admired Tatiana’s gown. It was a splendid creation of wine and black velvet. Tatiana appeared aglow with satisfaction, convincing Karena that she had news.
“He will be here tonight, after all. This was quite a feat on my part, I can tell you. I can hardly wait to introduce you to him.”
Karena was so excited she hugged her cousin. “Tatiana, this is wonderful! I’ve talked briefly with him before, but I’m sure he’ll not remember me. I usually see him from afar.”
“You’ve met him before? But when?” Tatiana asked, pulling away to stare at her.
“In Kiev, when I’ve gone on medical errands.”
“Oh, I see. Well, I suppose I should not be too surprised. By now, his reputation would have grown.” Tatiana glanced in the mirror and straightened the diamond brooch worn just below her shoulder. “The czarina adores him. The czar, too, for that matter. Everyone will hear how he’s come to my ball. They’ll be so envious. The news will burst like a firecracker all over St. Petersburg.”
Karena looked up from smoothing a final wrinkle from her dress, confused. Is Dr. Zinnovy truly that influential?
“It was the Crow sisters who introduced us. He’s the talk of society in St. Petersburg. Many there would die to have him at their parties, but I won out.”
Karena realized her mistake. “Then you are not discussing Dr. Zinnovy.”
“Zinnovy? Oh, you thought I meant the doctor.” Tatiana smiled. “No, of course not. I was speaking of the starets.”
Karena’s enthusiasm melted, but she forced herself to look interested for the sake of her cousin.
“Everyone in St. Petersburg is discussing Rasputin. It couldn’t be otherwise with the czarina relying on him. He’s graced of God.”
Graced of God. The words caught Karena’s attention.
“Not that I am his disciple yet, but Mother is beginning to take him seriously, thanks to the czarina’s good friend, Anna Vyrubova. Anna introduced the czarina to Rasputin. The Crow sisters are bringing him. They know everything there is about holy men. They are going to arrange a table talk tonight.”
Karena wrinkled her nose. “Whatever is a table talk? A religious study of some sort?”
“I don’t know exactly. As I say, I’m just learning. But the Crow sisters are experts at this sort of thing. They’ve been traveling with Rasputin on some of his pilgrimages. You know—cooking, washing him—”
“Washing him?”
Tatiana shrugged and smoothed her hair before the gilded mirror. “I don’t know what that means, but it’s all holy, you can be sure. Anna Vyrubova can tell us everything we want to know. Anna is Rasputin’s main disciple. She saw Rasputin heal the czarina’s son. Think of it.” She turned to Karena, a spark of shrewdness in her dark eyes. “The little czarevitch, Alexei, has a blood disease, you know. A bleeder, they say.”
“A hemophiliac, you mean,” Karena said. She’d spent many hours studying her mother’s medical textbooks. Madame Yeva had attended the Imperial College of Medicine and Midwifery in St. Petersburg. Karena had already decided that once she’d gained her legal certificate in midwifery, she would seek as much information as she could on various diseases and their cures. If little else, she could keep a journal of all she learned and use it among the peasants in her village.
“Imagine,” Tatiana said, “actually healing poor little Alexei. Yet Rasputin already has enemies at court. There are some in the Duma trying to convince Czar Nicholas to send him back to his village of Pokrovskoe. The czarina will never allow that to happen. If anyone wishes to be included in her inner circle, they’d best embrace Rasputin or expect to make themselves enemies of the Romanovs. I, for one, will embrace him.”
So that was their motive for arranging Rasputin’s reception tonight. News of the Roskov family receiving him as their honored guest would find its way into the private chambers of the czarina. But what did Madame Zofia and Tatiana expect to gain from the czarina’s favor?
“Who would have ever thought Siberia would give the Romanov family and holy Russia such a gift from God as Rasputin?” Tatiana asked, her eyes meeting Karena’s in the mirror.
Karena looked at her, troubled and uncertain. “Do you really believe that?”
“Of course. Why not? Anna is a witness. She was there in the czarevitch’s bedroom when Rasputin healed him.”
Karena wished to avoid controversy as much as possible—after all, she was here as a guest. She was also aware that she didn’t know enough about the Bible to be able to refute such a belief. “If it’s true, then it would be most thought provoking,” she finally said. “However, Sergei says—”
“Sergei says, Sergei says.” Tatiana’s eyes flashed with quick temper. “Your brother is a cynic. A Bolshevik, as well. Oh yes, he is—don’t protest. You’re always defending him. He’ll end up in the Siberian mines someday soon if he doesn’t keep a civil tongue about the czarina. That street disturbance in St. Petersburg would’ve brought about his arrest if my parents hadn’t intervened with the czar. There Sergei was, shouting on the street with the revolutionaries supporting the factory workers’ walkout.”
“But he’s not a Bolshevik,” Karena said firmly. “He became involved by accident.”
“He is a revolutionary. He was expelled from the university and sent home last month.”
Karena was surprised. “How did you know? Papa Josef tried to keep it quiet.”
“You forget my father is a general in the Okhrana. The czar’s secret police know everything. With all the assassination attempts on Czar Nicholas, they must stay vigilant.”
While Tatiana’s father was in the Okhrana, she had no right to private information. Karena only knew about Sergei because he had confided in her about the trouble he was in with Papa Josef. How had Tatiana heard? Surely Uncle Viktor would not discuss his highly secretive work at the dinner table with two women as talkative as his wife and daughter.
Tatiana’s mouth turned. “No, I didn’t snoop in my father’s records, though that would be easy. He brings home files. Especially anything to do with friends and family. He wishes to protect us all, you see. No, it was Alex who asked me about Sergei. He was riding with the Cossacks at the time. They’d been sent in to break up the demonstration. He saw Sergei there and mentioned it to me just this afternoon.”
Karena remembered Kronstadt was now in the Okhrana. “Why is he inquiring about Sergei?” she asked cautiously. Sergei’s part in the factory demonstration posed no threat to anyone. He’d even been permitted reentry into the university this September.
Tatiana gave her a once-over. “He wanted to know if you shared your brother’s interest in the Bolshevik Party.”
“Sergei is highly opinionated about everything, and the gathering lured him. He was punished, and it’s over now. And you know very well I have no interest in either Marx or Lenin.”
Tatiana smiled. “Of course I do. Let’s not discuss it anymore. Come. It’s time we went down. Where’s Natalia?”
“Coming,” Natalia called from her bedroom. She hurried out a moment later holding a pendant on her palm, her face flushed pink with exasperation and excitement.
“I can’t close the clasp.”
“Here, let me.” Tatiana reached for the pendant. There was a flash of red and white, and Tatiana’s breath caught. Karena stared at the glimmering jewels, an unusual ruby and diamond pendant in the form of a tulip, an emerald at the stem.
“It’s stunning.,” Tatiana breathed, transfixed.
Karena looked sharply at her sister. “Natalia! That belongs to Mother. It was her aunt’s from Finland. She didn’t allow you to take it, did she? Why, I’ve only been permitted to see it once.”
Natalia lowered her eyes, her cheeks crimson. “It’s kept in the safe. I borrowed it. Don’t worry so, I’ll return it. Stop looking at me like that, Karena.”
Karena couldn’t help herself. “Mother doesn’t know you borrowed it?”
“No. She wouldn’t have let me take it, and you know it.”
“Natalia,” Karena began, then lapsed into silence. She didn’t want to embarrass her sister before Tatiana any more than she already had.
“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?