Anne could not prevent herself from laughing at the absurdity of his opinions. Was this the man Shoora had said was toasted as both handsome and clever? He had not even the penetration to see what Vera Borisovna really thought of her daughter-in-law. She laughed, and Basil took the compliment to himself.
‘You see how I amuse you? Dear mademoiselle, you and I go very well together. I think we shall see a great deal of each other in Petersburg.’
‘And what will your sister think of that?’ Anne asked unkindly.
‘My sister? What can you mean?’ he asked, his cheeks growing a little pink under their sallowness.
‘I mean, dear sir, that she is looking at us this moment, and to judge by her expression you will not be seeing anything of me in Petersburg.’
He looked hastily round, and then turned back to lean perilously over Anne, so that she began to think the eyes, if they did drop out, would fall down inside her bodice. ‘Dear mademoiselle, have no fear! I have not yet told her that your father was an admiral. All will be well, I assure you!’
And as Anne continued to laugh merrily at almost everything he said, he was well pleased with the beginning of his campaign, and was ever more impressed by her intelligence, which was demonstrated by her ready appreciation of his wit.
At the end of their dance, she curtseyed and escaped, and managed to slip through the crush to one of the doors to draw a breath of fresh air and let the last of her laughter shake itself free.
‘You seemed to be getting on very well with your last partner,’ murmured the Count into her ear. She looked round and found him standing at her shoulder, resting his hand on the door-frame above her head; and, looking up into his smiling face, felt a sense of peace and contentment stealing over her. His presence was all she had needed to make the evening perfect.
‘I found him vastly entertaining,’ she said.
‘Oh? Well, he is said to be a very charming young man,’ the Count said, observing the glint in her eye. ‘
“Charming young man” isn’t quite the description I would use.’
‘Really? What then?’
‘I think–’ she pretended to ponder. ‘Yes, I think “egregious ass” fits him rather better.’ The Count snorted with laughter. ‘Really, how can he have won such a reputation for wit? And his sister for beauty? Is she as like him in intellect as she is in looks?’
‘Another moment, Anna Petrovna, and I shall suspect you of being jealous. It doesn’t do to tilt at reputations, you know.’ He glanced over his shoulder. ‘Damn, here’s that young Tiranov boy, looking for you to dance with him, I don’t doubt. I’ve been waiting all evening to talk to you – he shan’t have you. Come, step outside with me for a moment. He hasn’t seen you yet.’
He stepped behind her to shield her from view and propelled her gently out on to the terrace, and then tucked her hand under his arm and strolled with her along the walk. Anne matched her steps to his, blissfully happy. He had sought her out – said he had been waiting all evening for her. She had nothing more to wish for.
‘So what was Basil Andreyevitch telling you that was so very amusing?’ he asked.
‘He said that if he took me up, he could make me the toast of Petersburg.’
‘Did he? Curse his impudence! What else?’
‘That you could not do it for me,’ Anne said, glancing up at him, ‘because your taste in horses was famous, but not in women.’
‘Ha!’ The Count’s mouth curled into its closed, cat-smile. ‘What else?’
‘That I was not handsome in the common style,’ she said, smiling now. They reached the end wall and stopped, and the Count felt in his pocket and took out a cigar.
‘Do you object to the smell?’ he asked.
‘No, I like it,’ she said. ‘I used to light Papa’s for him.’
He took a moment to cut his cigar, light it, and get it drawing. Then, blowing a plume of fragrant smoke high in the air, he turned to look at her, leaning on the balustrade and studying her with a humorous but intent look. ‘Well,’ he said at last, ‘egregious ass or not, he was not entirely mistaken.’
‘About what?’ Anne asked. She rested her forearm on the stone sill, and tilted her head back to look at him, and felt her throat tighten as she met his shining, laughing eyes.
‘He could make you the toast of Petersburg, for one thing. He has great influence amongst the young people of fashion. God knows why!’ He gave a bark of laughter. ‘But you should not dismiss him too lightly,’ he added seriously. ‘It would be a good thing for you – a great thing, perhaps.’
‘Why should I want to be a toast?’ Anne said dismissively.
‘Because, little sceptic, you might make a good marriage through his recommendation. You might marry someone of position and wealth, and be fixed for ever.’
‘I don’t want to marry,’ she said.
‘You say that now,’ he said, ‘but you may think differently one day.’
She shrugged. ‘And what else was he right about? That you couldn’t do as much for me?’
‘I would not,’ he said, and she flinched inwardly at the changed emphasis. ‘It wouldn’t be in my best interests’, he added quietly, ‘to help you leave my household, now would it?’
‘And what else?’ she asked unsteadily.
‘That you are not handsome in the common style,’ he said, looking at her searchingly now. ‘In fact, you are quite uncommonly beautiful, Annushka, only he is too much of an ass to see it.’ And he put out his hand, and brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. Anne felt as though the whole night were holding its breath in the fluttering silence that followed. ‘Don’t leave us too soon,’ he said at last. ‘I am selfish to ask it, but I should miss you very much if you left, even to marry someone as good and great as Basil Tchaikovsky.’
‘I don’t want to marry,’ she said again, but this time the words did not, perhaps fortunately, reach the air. After a moment, the Count turned to lean on the balustrade and look out across the river, drawing again on his cigar and blowing the haze-blue smoke into the luminous sky. Anne turned too, and leaned beside him, close enough to feel the warmth of his body against her bare arms, and they stood in companionable silence staring at the dark line where the trees curled against the sky. Presently the moon rose, and lifted itself above the trees to sail clear: a full moon, white and transparent as a lemon-drop.
Chapter Ten
In October, when the frosts came, riming the drifts of fallen leaves and blackening the late buds on the roses, the Kirovs left Schwartzenturm and went back to St Petersburg. The Danilovs took their departure too, for Moscow, taking Sergei with them, but the Dowager Countess decided to stay with her son and daughter-in-law for a while longer in order to visit old friends in Petersburg.
‘I might stay with you until Christmas, perhaps,’ she said, as though conferring a great favour. ‘I still have a large acquaintance at Court; and I ought to pay my respects to the dear Empress-Mother.’
At Schwartzenturm the double windows were fitted, the shutters put up, the furniture and lustres bagged in hollands, the carpets rolled, the plate and china packed carefully away. Only a skeleton staff would remain, living in the white tower, until the house was needed again. The rest of the indoor servants, along with the family and their luggage, made part of the huge cavalcade that set off for the short journey up the wide, bone-hard road to Petersburg.