Read The Ice King Online

Authors: Dinah Dean

Tags: #Romance

The Ice King (7 page)

Irina made him a creditable little curtsey, took his hand and went with him towards the salon, telling him all about her Christmas activities, which reminded her to thank him for his gift. Tanya walked on the other side of the child, so that when Nikita threw open the doors and they entered the room together, they made a charming little group; tall, distinguished man, slim, smiling woman, and pretty vivacious child, which made Countess Maria give a wistful little sigh as she thought how well two problems might be solved, if only.. .

Prince Nikolai went to kiss his cousin in greeting and stood by the fire talking to her, while Tanya seated herself on one of the small sofas between the windows, where the candles in a girandole provided a good light for her work, for it was such a dull day that it was already virtually dark outside.

She had not yet had time to pounce out a design on her piece of linen, but it required hemstitching first in any case, so she busied herself with that, noting unobtrusively that Boris Kalinsky had arrived while she was upstairs and was sitting with Marisha at the far end of the room, deep in what appeared to be a serious conversation. He caught the girl's hand at one point and held it far longer than convention would approve, but far from disengaging herself, Marisha was smiling at him and talking in a much more lively fashion than usual. Tanya hoped her was not flirting with her, for she recalled a few oddments of conversation which made her believe that would be unfortunate.

Fedor came in a few minutes later with two or three of his friends and soon engaged Prince Nikolai in discussion about a horse that he had been to see and was thinking of buying. Two of the young people suggested a game of Boston, so Marisha fetched a pack of cards and sat with them at the loo-table, with Boris making the fourth. Other callers arrived, some of them friends of Count Alexei, and presently Prince Nikolai wandered over and sat down beside Tanya.

“I trust you are enjoying your visit to Petersburg," he said in his courteous, lifeless way.

“Very much indeed, I thank you," she replied.

The Prince glanced at her work and commented, "You are clever with your needle, I see."

“It's a gift for Maria Nikolaevna," Tanya replied, more for something to say than because she thought he might be interested. "I would like to give her a little memento, for she's been extremely kind to me."

“I'm sure the enjoyment of your company is sufficient recompense for that," the Prince said.

Tanya was not sure whether that was intended as a compliment, and so she could not reply. She went on sewing her hem, and saw with slight consternation that the last dozen or so stitches had become very uneven. A quick glance at Prince Nikolai's face showed her that he was watching her hands with apparently close attention, and although there was a perfectly proper distance of at least eighteen inches between them, she once more experienced that half-frightening, not altogether unpleasant awareness of his nearness to her.

He looked up suddenly and their eyes met; Tanya pricked her finger on her needle. Fortunately Irina, who had been quietly playing with her dolls, suddenly remembered something she wished to know, and came across to them. She put one hand on Prince Nikolai's knee, and when she had his attention, asked in an urgent, but fortunately quiet voice:

“Cousin Nikolai, is it true that you danced four times with Cousin Tanya?"

“I believe so," the Prince replied gravely.

“Wasn't that rather a lot?"

“More than usual, I suppose," the Prince replied. "But you see, I like to dance with Cousin Tanya, so I always ask her four times."

“Madame at my dancing class says that more than three isn't proper."

“Normally that would be so, but Tanya Ivanovna will only be here until Lent, so we must make shift to allow her to do twice as much of everything because she has only half the time.”

Irina had to think that out, but apparently she accepted it as reasonable and returned to her dolls.

There was silence for a moment, and then Tanya, who had regained her composure during this interlude, stole a look at the Prince's face. Their eyes met and they regarded one another thoughtfully. Tanya's eyes were wide and clear, with gold flecks shining in her hazel irises. Prince Nikolai met their gaze with equanimity.

“That was a somewhat rash statement," she observed. "Perhaps you didn't mean to say 'always'?"

“I seldom say anything I don't mean, and I only said `ask'. You are not bound to accept.”

Tanya knew very well that it was not considered good manners to refuse an invitation to dance, but she found the Prince a little unnerving, so she concentrated on her sewing.

“You do that a great deal more neatly than many ladies who affect an interest in stitchery," the Prince commented.

“If one sets out to do a thing, one should at least try to do it well."

“You would have agreed well with my father," he said in a dry, sarcastic tone.

“I would not expect anyone to excel at everything!" she protested.

“I observe that you are aware of his aims in educating me," Prince Nikolai said in the same tone, but with an added note of bitterness. "Presumably someone has hastened to acquaint you with the rest of my history?”

Nettled, Tanya replied in a spirited but quiet voice, "I was informed of it from the same source and with the same kindly intent as you, no doubt, learned mine!”

She sounded absurdly stilted in her own ears, but she was annoyed at the implication that Countess Maria had been gossiping about him.

Prince Nikolai looked decidedly taken aback. "I'm sorry. If you refer to Maria Nikolaevna, then I deserve your anger. I, more than anyone, should be aware of her kindness. You are right to reprove me, and she was right to tell you. If we are to be better acquainted, it's as well that you should know the reason for my peculiarities. Please forgive me."

“I shouldn't have flared up at you so." Tanya was contrite, and surprised at herself for setting him down so. The words `better acquainted' lingered in her attention for a moment, setting up a little ripple of feeling — surprise? — disquiet? —excitement? It probably meant no more than the obvious expectation that they were likely to encounter one another quite frequently while she was here.

“May I make a peace offering?" He took from his pocket a small object which he placed in her hand. It was a mouse carved out of rose quartz.

“Oh, how exquisite!" she exclaimed.

“A relation of your friends at the Ruschev Palace, I expect," he said, sounding quite human after his earlier formality.

Tanya stroked the silky stone and examined the detail of the finely carved eyes, ears and whiskers, and then, with a sigh, held it out to him.

He shook his head. "I mean you to keep it, if you will.”

Tanya was overwhelmed. "Oh, but it must be valuable! You are very kind, and it's very beautiful, but I'm afraid it wouldn't be at all proper for me to accept it.”

He raised his eyebrows. "I see nothing improper in presenting a small pink mouse to a lady. I must admit it's a little unusual to find a lady who would wish to have such a creature, but it is only a mouse, not a diamond necklace! Besides, no one will know unless you tell them.”

Tanya looked at him, startled to find that he was actually joking and that there was a tiny spark of humour in those normally expressionless blue eyes. "Thank you
very
much!" she said. "It's the loveliest thing I've ever had. How kind you are!"

“If you call me 'kind' once more," said Prince Nikolai severely, "I shall depart at once for Sevastopol, and remain there until you have left Petersburg!"

“Irina would not be at all pleased!" Tanya replied a trifle breathlessly and at random, finding the discovery that the Prince had a sense of humour rather disconcerting. The clock on the mantel struck three at that moment, and the Prince rose to his feet. "I'm due at the Palace in halt an hour, so I must take my leave," he said. "I look forward to seeing you tomorrow," and he went before Tanya could enquire what he meant.

She watched him walk in a leisurely but purposeful manner across the room, pausing to confirm with Fedor an appointment to see the horse which interested him, to exchange a few words with Count Alexei, to pay some small compliment to Marisha, to kiss Irina's hand with proper ceremony, and to make his farewell to Countess Maria. Finally, he went out of the door with a pleasant acknowledgement to the footman on duty. Tanya had a peculiar feeling of mingled deflation and relief, and thought to herself that it was very strange how pleasant it was to talk with the Prince. Yet how selfconscious he made her feel, almost as if some invisible physical property in him could reach out to her and set her nervous and circulatory systems awry — rather like the crackling of one's hair and the odd sensation to one's skin before a thunderstorm. It was disturbing, and yet not exactly unpleasant.

The game of Boston had ended and the players were chattering about something or other. Boris got up and strolled over to Tanya, and took the place vacated by Prince Nikolai. "I'm desolated not to have seen you for so long," he murmured, kissing her hand and gazing at her with anguished devotion.

Tanya slid the mouse into her reticule and laughed. "Really, Count Boris! It must be quite eighteen hours since we parted!"

“A lifetime!" he sighed.

Tanya laughed again, and Boris abandoned his affectations and grinned cheerfully.

“I can only stay a few minutes," he said. "We poor fellows in waiting lead a dreadful life, you know, always dashing off to one Palace or another to drink gallons of china tea and stand about for hours waiting for Alexander Pavlovich to do something or other. So tedious, when one might be in interesting company."

“Isn't the Czar of all the Russians interesting?" Tanya asked, half-seriously.

Boris wrinkled his nose. "Extremely, but not feminine," he said drily.

“Ah, yes," Tanya nodded sagely, "that must make a difference."

“How well you understand me!" Boris made effective use of his dark eyes again.

“I hope I do," Tanya replied seriously, and deliberately looked towards Marisha. Boris followed her glance and said equally seriously, "It's a long wait, but not too much longer, I hope. She'll soon be seventeen.”

Tanya felt decidedly relieved, and thought what a very pleasant young man he was. She found herself thinking much the same about Vladimir Karachev a little while later, when that gentleman arrived and ousted Boris in his usual forthright way by telling him to go and flirt with someone else.

“Why should I?" Boris objected.

“You know you prefer little blondes," the Colonel replied. "And in any case, I'm your superior officer."

“Were, you mean, and that was ages ago."

“Three years he was in the Army, and never rose above Ensign," the Colonel informed Tanya, "and his path across Europe was littered with little blondes! Go away and play!" The last was addressed to Boris, who saluted Prussian style and went back to Marisha in his usual agreeable fashion.

“It's where he really wants to be," Vladimir said hesitantly, eyeing Tanya a trifle anxiously.

“Yes, I guessed as much," she reassured him. "He's a very agreeable flirt, but I do hope that she understands that it doesn't mean anything. She's very young."

“I think she decided to marry him when she was about ten," Vladimir replied, "and she should know him by now. He only does it to pass the time, and never with her."

“And how do you pass your time?" Tanya asked.

“Playing soldiers."

“Playing?"

“What else, in peace time? Not that I'm in favour of war, though! The trouble is, I'm the younger son, and in my family one boy in each generation goes into the Army." "And your brother didn't wish to?”

 


Not at all. Vassily is
very
fastidious! He likes to travel in comfort, not on his own feet! He's the scholar of the family —always has his nose in
a
book — he's the only man I've ever seen reading poetry on a battlefield!"

“How did he get there, if he isn't in the Army?" she enquired.

“It was in 1812 — he joined for the campaign. He'll always put himself to a
little
inconvenience if he thinks it's necessary."

“Have you been in the Army very long?" Tanya asked.

“Since I was eighteen, or six, according to which way you look at it. Cadet College here in Petersburg for twelve years, then commissioned Ensign. The usual thing."

“You seem rather young to be a colonel," Tanya commented.

Vladimir looked selfconscious and touched his St. George. "That helped," he replied, "and quite a lot of luck. I got in the way when someone fired a pistol in the general direction of the Emperor once, and he thought I did it on purpose.”

Tanya wondered if she would ever hear the true story behind the modest disclaimer, but decided on reflection that if she did, it would certainly not be from Vladimir. They talked for a little longer, and then Vladimir drew out his watch and said he must be going as he was due to he on duty at the Fortress.

“I trust I'll see you at the Palace tomorrow?" he asked as he stood up.

“I don't know," Tanya replied. "Which Palace, and what is happening?"


The
Palace. New Year's Day." Vladimir replied obscurely. "I expect Nikolai Ilyich brought the tickets." And with that he kissed her hand and departed, leaving her none the wiser.

Tanya did indeed see him, and Prince Nikolai, at the Palace the next day. It was the custom for the Emperor to open the galleries of the Winter Palace and the adjoining Hermitages to the public on the first of January each year, and it appeared that everyone in St. Petersburg of every social class tried to obtain
a
ticket and go to wander in a great crowd through the enormous buildings, to admire their beauty and see the magnificent collection of pictures and
objets d'art,
to eat the refreshments provided, and dance in the great galleries.

The Kirovs went during the afternoon, and it seemed to Tanya that they walked for miles and miles among the biggest crowd of people she had ever seen. At times the sheer number of them quite frightened her, but they were not closely crowded, and they were all very orderly and good-humoured, peasants and soldiers, aristocrats and shopkeepers, coachmen and dandies, ragged workmen and fashionable ladies, all thoroughly enjoying the opportunity to see inside the Little Father's great house, and even, Tanya discovered, to see the Little Father himself. For as the Kirovs passed near the head of the great Jordan Staircase, they saw a little group standing to one side watching the slowly-moving throng, and among them was a very tall, fair-haired man in the uniform of the Semenovsky Guard, with a number of diamond-studded orders and the blue ribbon of the St. Andrei. He was smiling benignly at the people going past, and nodding affably in reply to the greetings and blessings which they called out to him.

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