‘I wish it had. You won’t know, of course, that she’s been plotting busily against Speransky. I can’t find out the details of the plot, but I’m afraid it’s serious. There are too many people who want his downfall.’
‘Why do people hate him so much? He’s done so much good, reforming the government – and he works so hard, poor little man.’
‘They hate him because he’s a peasant, risen from the ranks by his own efforts. Lots of aristocrats can’t forgive that – particularly those he’s overtaken on the way up. For the son of a parish priest to become State Secretary – it’s too much to be borne!’
‘Well I like him,’ Anne said stoutly.
‘You like all sorts of odd people,’ he said with a smile. ‘What about those actors you have running tame about your house? Is it true that de Berthier is going to appear at your ball tomorrow dressed as Cleopatra and carrying a live asp?’
‘Oh, don’t,’ she shuddered. ‘I’ve heard so many tales of what he is going to do. Talk about something else! Did you know that Lolya has fallen in love?’
‘She falls in love at least once a week. Who is it this time?’
‘Duvierge. She seems to think he has your seal of approval.’
‘Duvierge? But that was last week!’ He pretended to be alarmed. ‘If she’s been in love with him for two whole weeks, it must be serious.’
‘You had better hope it isn’t,’ Anne said severely. ‘From what I hear, Lauriston himself is hardly safe from assassination. His carriage was stoned yesterday. If Lolya were to marry a Frenchman…’
‘Don’t worry,’ he said with a smile. ‘Duvierge doesn’t know she exists. He’s a thoroughly ambitious young man – and fanatically loyal to Napoleon, too. I have a fancy he’s carrying on a secret correspondence with his Emperor, but I haven’t been able to prove it.’
‘He’s a spy? But surely it isn’t your job to expose him? Surely the Minister of Police, or the Minister of Secret Police–’
‘Anna Petrovna!’ he said, amused. ‘You know perfectly well there are no secret police in Petersburg!’
‘Oh – well,’ she said, colouring a little. ‘At all events, I have agreed to invite him to my ball tomorrow. I hope you approve? I thought the best way to cure Lolya was to give her the opportunity to see he didn’t care for her.’
‘I agree. What she’s denied she only wants twice as much. Like a certain barouche in Landseer’s warehouse, with so much gold plating on it, it would kill a pair of horses to move it ten feet!’
‘Oh, it was that barouche, was it!’ They regarded each other with amused understanding, and suddenly Kirov took her hand under cover of her muff and said, ‘Anna, I must see you!’ She turned her face away a little in pain. ‘Don’t, don’t turn away. My love, the war will begin soon, and who knows what will happen?’
‘You won’t fight?’ she said in alarm, turning back to him.
‘I don’t mean to – but who can tell? If the circumstances – or the Emperor – demand, I can’t refuse. But I shall certainly be asked to advise at the front; I shall have to go away. Anna, I must see you privately – alone. I can’t go on like this.’
‘It’s impossible,’ she said.
‘Not at all. We must be discreet, that’s all. It can be managed.’
Longing and guilt warred with each other. ‘Where?’ she said, despite herself. ‘How?’
‘Tomorrow morning. Yes, I know you have your ball to prepare for! That’s why you have no engagements, why no one will expect to see you anywhere about the town.’
‘But my servants–’
‘You must have a headache, stay in your room with the blinds drawn, forbid your servants to disturb you. They will all be too busy to think about it in any case. Then you can slip out and meet me, very early, before anyone’s about. Wear a cloak with a hood, and keep it drawn forward to hide your face.’
She looked at him despairingly. ‘Nikolai, I hate deceit, and subterfuge! I hate all this!’
‘I know. Don’t you think I hate it too? I want to love you openly – claim you before the world. If you would only come and live with me… Anna, won’t you? We could go abroad–’
‘I can’t leave Rose.’
‘We could take her with us.’
‘Basil would never let her go. Besides,’ she added, ‘you wouldn’t leave Russia now, not now, not on the brink of war.’
‘Yes I would, for you,’ he said, but she knew it was a lie. ‘Napoleon would have you arrested and shot,’ she said quietly, allowing him to save face. ‘Your life would not be worth a day’s purchase beyond the border. There’s nowhere we could go. And there’s nothing we can do.’
He was silent, facing the truth. Then, ‘Only this one thing. Come to me tomorrow, Annushka. Let us have that much at least.’
She shook her head, dumb with misery; oh but she was weak, weak, and she knew she would give in, in the end.
It snowed again in the night, but froze before morning, and the day dawned clear, blue and gold and silver-white like some heraldic device, and breathtakingly cold.
Anne had to take Pauline into her confidence, for how else was she to procure a cloak, or get out of the house unseen? But Pauline, in her quiet way, disliked Basil, and was glad to help her mistress, who had always been generous to her. She provided her mistress with a plain, coarse brown cloak, like those the serfs wore, with a hood,, voluminous enough to wear over her furs.
‘Keep well covered up, madame,’ she said as she fastened it. ‘Today is a day for frostbite. Sunshine makes people careless.’
Anne remembered the words as she sat beside Nikolai in the troika, which he drove himself, as they left the city and dashed into the countryside. She almost felt as though she were dreaming. The sun shone bright and heatless from a deep blue sky, and the dazzling crystal snow rushed past with a sweet hissing sound under the runners, while the harness bells tinkled their sweet, secret language. Before her the necks of the three horses curved as they threw themselves into their collars; their pricked ears bobbed, and their warm breath clouded on the bitter air as they cantered along, and formed icicles on the whiskers of their muzzles.
The whole world was white, with deep lavender shadows, except for the dark brown of tree trunks in the woods to the side of the road. Most of the trees were like fantastic confections of frozen sugar, but here and there, where the snow canopy had slipped and fallen, a branch would spring forth in deep and living green, like something shaking off an enchantment. But the enchantment held her deep, a willing victim. She asked no questions, and wanted no answers; simply allowed the day to carry her forward where it would.
Their destination turned out to be a small inn on an unimportant side road. Anne looked askance as he drew up outside, thinking that a public house was not the best place to be secret. But they were evidently expected. When they stopped, Adonis – almost unrecognisable in his bundling clothes – ran out to take the horses, and when they entered the inn, the hostess greeted them with a quiet smile, and told them dinner would be ready whenever they rang for it. Anne looked at her curiously. There didn’t seem to be any other customers. Business must be very bad, she thought, for even so small an inn to have no customers at all.
Kirov conducted her up the narrow wooden stairs, and into a private sitting room, where he began at once to help her off with her furs. He looked into her eyes, and read the question there.
‘Yes, it’s safe. No, there’s no one else here, and there won’t be.’
‘How can you be sure?’
‘Because I own this place. I’ve told them they are to be closed for the day. They are my own people. They won’t betray us.’