Stanislaus made his preparations for the party. Being invited to attend with the Bressoff family filled him with anticipation, as he would be seeing Anya. He smiled at his reflection in the mirror after shaving. Stanislaus knew he was out of fashion by not sporting either mustache or beard. It did not matter as he would never be in fashion.

He was far too tall and far too broad of shoulder to be looked on in polite society as "fashionable". His wavy light brown hair did not lie nicely on his head unless he pomaded it down as if glued. Applying the preparation was far too much bother.

Turning sideways in the mirror, he glanced at the shoulder seams of his 1evening suit. The tailor had finally gotten his measurements correct. Nothing seemed to be strained. The suit was a necessity. For day to day matters, he preferred the sack suit. Those he would be dealing with in the business arena would not have the luxury of being choosy regarding his appearance. Stanislaus would have much preferred a wool shirt, jeans and boots.

In evening dress, he felt somewhat like an over decorated floosy. But it was something he would endure in order to partner with Anya at this gathering. A waltz with Anya would be more than enough payment for having to be oh so polite, to some people he had little or no regard for.

Dmitri and Camille were a different matter entirely. Stanislaus had always regarded them more as an aunt and uncle than employers. The Count and his father had been fur hunters together when both very young men.

Camille had gone out of her way to give him the best education of any child in the village. After the horrible confrontation with Ooskada when Ooskada attempted to kill Camille, Dmitri did everything possible for him.

To his mind, he had only been doing what Dmitri asked, protecting the family. The knife wound from Ooskada left only a small scar. Something which did not bother him in the slightest.

Stanislaus was in San Francisco at the request of Dmitri. He would be taking a job with a branch of the Count's company. Finally, he would be putting the knowledge he had been soaking up for years, into practice. That part of the assignment he was looking forward to. Dmitri did warn him there would be an occasional social function to attend. Stanislaus did not look forward to the obligatory socializing. But waltzing with Anya, was an opportunity he prized!

 

"Come now Father. This is just a little backwoods gathering in the Wild West. How on earth do you think it could have any bearing on my career?"

Charles Keetering stood combing his hair in the hall mirror. He supposed he had to attend the silly party. Attending the small gathering being given by a school chum was his preferred entertainment. It was a private party as well, but in a much less exclusive atmosphere. He fully expected there would be some ladies there of less than stellar virtue and therefore, a great deal more fun.

"You have not changed your mind regarding the position in the US legation in Russia?" His father inquired.

"Certainly not! I am quite looking forward to it. It could well be a springboard to a lucrative political position."

"Since you are such a scholar, as well as an expert on Russian matters, then I should not need to tell you a very important person will be at the party."

The younger man raised one eyebrow in a well practiced gesture of inquiry.

"Count Dmitri Bressoff is to be there. And I understand his family, including a daughter, is attending as well. You might find the daughter interesting. Marriage to a member of the Russian aristocracy would be a plus."

"I am not interested in chaining myself to some flat faced, blonde hulk of a woman for the balance of my life, no matter what her antecedents!" Charles informed his father.

"My source tells me the Count is very wealthy. I was given to understand the girl is quite lovely." The elder Keetering responded to his only son as he checked his watch.

The young man turned back to the mirror to pat his chestnut hair. With the finger of one hand, Charles made sure his mustache lay properly. "Well, where has the good Count been keeping this marvel of young womanhood secreted?"

"In Alaska, my boy. They are only in San Francisco on a visit to his wife's family. They do have a home in Sitka. He owns an entire island along with several estates in the Mother Land."

Charles shot his cuffs out, before checking to make sure his cuff links were properly aligned. "It all resembles a fairy tale, but we shall see. Let me warn you however, if the lay of the land is not good, I intend to make an early escape."

"You have an agreement." The older man nodded his head. "I assume we will be taking separate transportation?

"Indeed Father." He made a quick bow, then motioned for his father to proceed him.

Charles dallied somewhat allowing his parents to reach the party before him. If he gave his mother at least a half hour, she would be able to point everyone out to him in short order. He would decide his course of action from that point.

After providing his invitation to the servant at the door, Charles went in search of his mother. As expected, she was in close proximity to the punch bowl. Mrs. Keetering had already taken stock of the partygoers.

"Well Mother, where are the distinguished Count and his offspring to be found."

"Now Charles!" His mother grimaced at his bored tone. "There, the tall blonde man with the eye patch is the Count. The woman on his arm, is his wife. His daughter is dancing with the very large gentleman, over there."

Not having much interest in the Count, Charles looked for the girl. When the large man twirled her around, Charles suddenly knew he was going no where else until he had made her acquaintance.

This was a fairy tale and he had discovered a real life fairy. It did not matter to him that she was taller than most of the other women in the room. She was slim and delicate. The aqua color of the gown was the perfect foil for the lovely mass of dark red hair. He had a deep urge to discover the color of her slightly almond shaped eyes. Her face was heart shaped which added to the overall impression of a fairy or pixie.

The man she was dancing with was head and shoulders above her. He was massively built. Charles dismissed him as nothing, but bone and muscle. The two of them were laughing. If her partner were not so large, he would attempt to cut in. Charles restrained his first impulse, deciding to wait until the next dance to approach her.

Stanislaus was as happy as it was possible to be. He and Anya had actually danced three times. He believed he had surprised her with his level of competence. They had been making light conversation when Stanislaus had the distinct impression he was being watched.

Glancing around, he noted the man in the area near the punch bowl. Indeed, he was watching Anya. The intent look on the face of the chestnut haired man reminded him of a predator. Stanislaus had a distinct urge to place Anya behind him, out of sight.

Whoever the man was, Stanislaus took an instant and deep rooted dislike to him. Anya did not notice his intense scrutiny. Stanislaus knew the next dance would find Anya in that one's arms and not his. The evening had suddenly gone sour.

Camille and Dmitri had danced a few waltzes but none of the two steps. They were watching Anya sparkle and shine. She and Stanislaus were obviously having a good time.

It was Camille who pointed out the young man to Dmitri. "Over there Dmitri." Camille lifted her face toward him as she tapped her chin with her fan. She tipped the end of the fan toward the punch bowl.

"That young man has been staring at Anya and Stanislaus for the entire dance."

Dmitri turned to get a good look at the individual Camille indicated with her fan. "The chestnut haired fellow?"

"The very one." Camille wondered who he might be. Leontine would likely know. "Let us find Leontine. She will surely know who this young man might be."

They strolled around the edge of the dance floor until Dmitri spotted Samuel and Leontine. Camille used her fan to shield her question from prying eyes.

"Leontine. The young man standing beside the lady in the blue dress, might you know who he is?"

"Where? Oh, over there! That is Charles Keetering. His mother is next to him. Why do you ask?" Leontine inquired.

"He has been staring at Anya in entirely too obvious a fashion. What do you know of him?"

"Anya should be quite alright with him. He comes from a good family. His father is an attorney. His mother serves on several charity boards."

Dmitri's eye was on Anya and Stanislaus. As the dance ended, the Keetering fellow cut across the floor at an angle with the clear intention of cutting the couple off before they reached the spot where Dmitri and Camille had been standing. He watched, as Keetering with one hand in his pocket, stuck his other hand out toward Stanislaus. He was clearly cutting in.

Stanislaus looked around the crowd and caught Dmitri's eye. The look on his employee's face told Dmitri what he had suspected for some time, was true. Stanislaus was in love with Anya. Anya however, did not return his affection in the way the boy would have wanted.

She looked on him as a big brother, her protector and friend. Dmitri felt a pang of sorrow for Stanislaus. It was hell to know the one you adored did not feel the same about you.

Camille watched the small vignette unfold. Anya had turned into a beautiful young woman. Camille wondered if she truly knew her own heart. For a moment Camille deeply regretted coming to San Francisco. But, there was nothing to be done about it at this point. Leontine needed her and that was that. Whatever came of tonight, the wheel of fortune was spinning. Anya's words came back to her. Indeed, something momentous had happened.

"Good evening sir, I am Charles Keetering. I have not had the pleasure of being introduced to you and your lovely companion." Charles thrust out his hand.

Stanislaus had no choice but to politely respond. "Stanislaus Rakov. My companion is Anya Bressoff."

Charles took both of Anya's hands in his. "I am so very pleased to meet you."

Stanislaus reluctantly walked away. Keetering had captivated Anya.

Dmitri watched Keetering preen as he turned on the charm. Anya was immediately smitten, Dmitri stifled a groan. San Francisco was not going to be a good experience.

Camille's gaze flitted from Stanislaus to Anya and back again. Keetering had Anya back on the dance floor as soon as the music resumed.

Stanislaus quickly made his way over to Dmitri and Camille. The young man mumbled it was time he was going. He pled the necessity of having to rise early for work. Camille squeezed Dmitri's arm as they watched Rakov leave the field. Keetering had him outgunned and he knew it. He had lost her.

Anya felt her world had suddenly taken on unlimited dimensions. Charles spun and twirled her to the music. She was not sure if she would ever recover from this totally enchanting night. Attentive, he assured her she was the most beautiful woman at the party.

Charles fetched glasses of punch before escorting her to the garden. There, he carefully draped her wrap around her. The young man inquired if it would be possible to call on her the following evening. Anya agreed. He was a dream come true, her every fantasy come to life. Anya left the party head over heels in love.

Charles Keetering left the party with Anya's address tucked safely in his inside pocket. It had not taken any effort at all. It was time to enjoy a bit of hell raising with his friends. Anya Bressoff was his territory now. If no terrible secrets emerged regarding her background or health, a wedding could well be in the offing.

She would do well as the mistress of his house and mother of his children. The absolute best would be if she could be an adequate bed partner too. In the event she was not, there were other places for a man to find what he wanted.

At this moment, he felt an urge for a bit of fun. All the waltzing had given him a need which required release. Quite sure the private party put on by his friends was still going, Charles was determined to attend. He would give everyone a good laugh. Charles Keetering had chosen his bride.

Having already looked in on the children, Camille sat on the side of the big bed her hands in Dmitri's. "Did we really witness Anya falling in love this evening? Is that what happened tonight?"

Dmitri shook his head. "I wonder about the young man. Regardless of Leontine's assertions to the contrary, there is something about him ....He does not appear genuine."

Camille leaned against Dmitri's shoulder. "It was as if he were acting a part in a play. Unfortunately, Anya has no doubt he is her dream come true."

Dmitri sighed. "Leontine needs you. She is a bit old to be carrying a child. It could be hard on her. If it were not for her, I would pack up. We would all be on the next vessel north."

"And likely without Anya. She would not go easily and ......"

Dmitri shook his head. "Come, dearest, all the worrying in the world is not going to make a difference tonight. We need to rest."

The very next day a large bouquet of roses arrived for Anya. In the evening, Charles made an appearance. The following day it was a carriage ride and the day after that, a basket of fruit arrived. Evening found Charles paying another visit to Anya.

Dmitri came to hate the sound of the name, 'Charles'. Camille attempted to talk with Anya regarding their mutual likes and dislikes, trying to discover if they were at all compatible. All Anya could talk of was his plans for the future.

"Leontine, it is "Charles is going into the diplomatic corps". He is planning to enter politics after that, followed by, she will have the "most wonderful wardrobe"...I am sick of the sound of his name!"

"What is it about him you find so repulsive? He is of good family, an only child, so there will be no need to divide the inheritance when the time comes. His father has made a good living. The man has a reputation as a very good attorney. Why do you and Dmitri dislike him so? I just do not understand."

Camille wrung her hands together while glancing over at her two younger children. She and Leontine were speaking French so there was no necessity to make sure they were out of earshot.

"She is obsessed with him! I just do not believe she is in love with him."

"Come Camille. We both know love is infrequently a part of a good marriage."

"Leontine, my apologies. I will make them at the beginning of this conversation, as I know I am going to say some things, which will ultimately hurt you. I do know love is most necessary. No human can live without love. Do you now love Samuel? Did you both finally find common ground? Did love spring from it? I know without your sacrifice neither of us would be where we are today. But if Dmitri did not love me, I could not live!"

Leontine sighed. "We do have a sort of love. I am not sure when it developed or what exactly changed, but we do have a deep affection for each other. I think this pregnancy, late as it may be, actually is a product of that affection."

"I am so glad to hear it. I have always felt a bit guilty that in order to save us, you had to pay such a steep price."

"Oh, Camille! Never that! Do not feel guilty. I knew Samuel and I thought alike when I first met him. As the years have gone by we have come to a good place in our lives together."

Tears welled up in Camille's eyes. "Thank God for that! I have prayed for you to find happiness for many years. I am so blessed with Dmitri, I wished the same for you. That is one reason why I am not happy when I picture Charles and Anya together. I do not believe he really loves Anya as she should be loved. It is like he is a collector looking for a fine piece to add to his possessions."

"Put that way, I begin to see a bit of what you mean. She is such a volatile, sensitive little thing, perhaps she needs more than I ever did that way."

"That is it exactly! She needs to be needed, not put on a shelf to be admired. Anya will wither without love."

"Since we are speaking about love. Perhaps you would like to elaborate on what you almost lost." Leontine looked at Camille questioningly.

Camille rose from her chair and turned away from her aunt. She would need to explain somewhat. After a moment, she again seated herself opposite Leontine.

"I was afraid we would return to that. There are some things I am never going to tell you, my dear. Some things are past and need to stay in the past. I see no need to open old wounds.

But, the nuns almost ruined my marriage. I had no idea how to love my husband. I had not the slightest notion of how to please him, or myself. At times I would unbend, then feel guilty over doing so. When Dmitri would come to me after I had given in to what the nuns called lust, I would feel guilty over having behaved in such an immoral manner and I became untouchable. I nearly drove us both insane."

Leontine took both Camille's hands in hers.

"I am so sorry cher! I have to confess to you, I have not had a problem with that aspect of marriage. In fact, I must be honest, Samuel and I did come together prior to marriage. The night before, but we did so. We have always been perfectly content with that portion of our relationship."

Stunned, Camille could only stare at her Aunt. Camille began to laugh. "Am I the only one in the world who believed all I was told? Surely not."

"Of course not, cher. If you recall, there were girls becoming nuns all the time. They most certainly believed. Sometimes, it is difficult to separate the reasonable from the unreasonable. Since I am older than you, I saw more of the way the world really was, before the war."

Leontine was silent for a moment as she looked down at her hands. "I did not tell you, but the nuns took you in as a charity case. They fully expected you would be taking vows and become a nun. I led them toward the idea knowing, I would not let that happen."

"Camille, I need to ask your pardon. After the first year, when your Momma and Jean died," Leontine took out a handkerchief and dabbed at her brimming eyes. "I was so afraid something would happen to you. You were too small to defend yourself and I did not have the strength to defend both of us. Some of those men thought nothing of assaulting a child."

Leontine's took a deep breath and reached out to brush Camille's cheek with her fingertips. "I thought if you did not remember, then it did not matter. I was wrong. So I will tell you of one night, in the house in the French Quarter. The one we shared with my friend and her sister, do you recall?"

Camille shook her head. "There is a great deal I have no memory of."

Leontine nodded. "Oui and I thought it was for the best. It appears I was mistaken. Drunken men broke in and ...we all had to fight them off with whatever came to hand. But one of them had you and was....he tried....he was the last to go down. He was so drunk we had to hit him in the head repeatedly with a pot to stop him. I took you to the nuns the next day and begged them to keep and protect you."

Putting her head on her arms, Leontine began to sob. Camille rose. Standing next to Leontine, Camille hugged her aunt. "No, no cher. You did the very best you could. It was a horrid time. You got us out of New Orleans! If not for you I would not have Dmitri. There would be no Dmi, no Lexie. It is over and done with, cher."

"Oh, but it was so wonderful before the war. The estate, the garden, the horses, our place in New Orleans and all the fun we had. You were too young to really know what was destroyed by the war. I sometimes dream of it as it was then. But, I had to let it go! Ah Camille, we should have cleared this out long ago."

Camille rubbed her Aunt's back, and murmured soothingly. Now, the last piece of the puzzle lay in place. Dmitri needed to know. Their first year of marriage had nearly destroyed both of them. Now, all the old ghosts could be truly banished.'

Dmitri and Camille lay in the big bed. Camille stroked one leg gently up and down his. Her fingers idly played with the still golden curls on his chest. Her head lay on his shoulder and she was more than content.

"Leontine and I had a very long overdue talk today."

"And?" He asked softly.

Camille moved her hand to his heart. She felt it beat strongly beneath her fingers. Oh thank you God, thank you that he loves me! "There was much I have wiped from my memory."

Dmitri tightened his hold on his wife as he kissed the top of her head. "You do not need to talk about it, if you do not wish to."

"Do you know I love you more than I can ever begin to tell you? I know how we started and to be here now, the way we are. You are my husband, lover and friend. I do not wish to be parted from you for even an hour." Her warm breath drifted across his skin.

Dmitri sighed as he cuddled her closer. "I long for you when I am away. I understand, love. Nothing, no one, can ever take your place in my life. You are all I want and need. It is why I call you moy sladkiy, my honey, you are the sweetness in my life."

"So, I can tell you of my conversation with Leontine today. You will now know all. But oddly, I remember almost nothing about those years. I remember being with the sisters....but..."

Dmitri listened as Camille related the conversation in the garden. He was very quiet for a time. Only by the tension in him did she know he was awake and thinking.

Then he spoke. "Poor Leontine! I am glad you do not recall that particular horror. I wonder how many women suffered. Women and children, the sick and old, are always the ones who bear the worst burdens in war. You both suffered. I am sorry you had to experience it. But I am glad she found a way to rescue you both, so you can now be here with me."

Dmitri thought about the difficulties, which had faced the first Russian settlers. "When I think about how my own father came to Alaska. Several times he nearly died. Poppa worked hard to carve out a place for us here. It was not easy. The last thing he expected was to inherit. With two brothers before him, it did not occur to him that he might become Count Bressoff."

"Dmitri that is another matter. I know there was difficulty with the Russian estates before we left the island. Have you settled all?"

"Here we are again, woman! Business in bed." He grumbled.

"The perils of marrying a woman with a brain. Now." Camille flipped the bed covers partially over them. Dmitri pulled them the balance of the way across. "What is the present situation?"

Far in the distance, Dmitri heard a fog horn. San Francisco would be a bit cool tonight.

"It is late, so I will give you a synopsis. The last manager of the estate was cheating everyone. Those who were working on shares and myself. All my relatives have left. There was no one I could trust to manage the land. I felt the only recourse I had was to simply let the farmers sell their produce on the open market and close the estates. I have deeded the land to the peasants and I am not sorry to be free of it."

"I doubt your course of action will endear you to either the cousins or the remaining aristocracy." She observed.

Camille wondered how he was so readily able to let go of what had belonged to the family for hundreds of years.

"It is all crumbling around them. I fear Russia is to follow France's path. I see nothing, but chaos. From what I was given to understand, my cousins took everything of value. I gather they felt it their due. I could care less, it never was my home. I have never really felt for the land there, what I feel for Alaska. My father made what we have in this land the center of his and my world. The old Russia is dying. But, here, in this United States, we are a young, growing country I am proud to be a part of."

Camille smiled in the dark. "Well, I do admit to being of two minds as to the Union. I have reservations about having been forced to stay a part of it. But, it is done. The South and that way of life is over. Not that I really knew much of it. Hearing Leontine talk of it today, did affect me more than a little, however."

"Hummm." Dmitri yawned. "We are here, this is now. I intend to continue to make a life and living for those I am responsible for in this new world."

He yawned again. "Let me sleep, woman. I need to be up and about early."

They cuddled beneath the covers in their warm little nest as the gray fog crept up out of the bay.