Polonaise (17 page)

‘I am afraid it has all been too much for the Princess,' he said, as he approached them. And then, as Prince Ovinski stepped forward. ‘No, Prince, I am younger and stronger than you. She is my hostess and my responsibility. Just show me where to take her. I am afraid your ornamental waters will have to wait for another day.'

After that, his visit was almost miraculously successful. He could not do too much for the hostess who had swooned so touchingly in his arms. He even postponed his return to Pulawy, telling Czartoryski that they could await a reply to the messenger he had sent to the Prussian court just as well at Rendomierz.

‘It's another of his sudden passions,' said Glynde rather wryly to Jan, back in their little house in the guest village. Had he hoped or feared a chance to talk alone with the Princess? Either way, monopolised as she was by her royal guest, he was most certainly not going to get it.

‘Yes.' Jan sounded anxious. ‘All very well, so long as he never finds out how she fooled him. He wouldn't like that. And it was touch and go. Casimir's hand was on the lever, with Olga watching from the grotto window to give him the word, and that serf who goes with him everywhere, standing looking on and grinning all over his face. I pretended to see nothing, of course. Just picked up Casimir, told the girl his mother wanted him, carried him off.' He smiled. ‘Not a cent's worth of fear in that child!' A total stranger, but he thought it a great game, rode me like a horse all the way to the palace.'

‘That's a remarkable little boy,' said Glynde. ‘And the image of his mother.' Had he been relieved or disappointed to see no trace of himself in the boy he was sure was his own?

‘And with her brains, too. A small Polish eagle who will fly far.'

‘Please God.'

Rendomierz had never been so festive. Day after day, the Tsar rode out with the men; night after night Prince and Princess entertained him with one ‘impromptu' concert or dramatic entertainment after another.

‘Monsieur Poiret says he is going to bed for six weeks when this is over.' Jenny had happened on Glynde and Jan knocking balls about in the vast billiard room on a day when a light, drizzling rain had kept the men at home.

‘Poor man, I don't wonder. And after all the years of idleness, too.' Jan missed an easy shot. ‘It's no use, Glynde, you could beat me with your eyes shut. Or half your mind, which is what you've been using today.'

Glynde laughed. ‘Forgive me! I was wondering how long this charade would continue.' And if he would ever get a chance of a word alone with the Princess, who walked, always, between the Prince and their guest.

‘Charade?' asked Jenny. ‘What do you mean?'

He moved over to close the door. ‘What does the Tsar mean, is the question. He's been here almost three weeks now, courteous, delightful, the perfect guest, listens to everyone, smiles at everything. Says nothing.'

‘Or rather, says a great deal.' Jan was stacking the billiard cues. ‘None of it to the purpose. If one could only get a word alone with the Princess. I would give a good deal to know what she thinks of it all. You must know, Jenny. Has she hopes for Poland?'

‘Miss Peverel wouldn't tell us, even if she knew.' Glynde smiled at Jenny, and her heart lurched.

‘But I don't know,' she said. ‘I'm just as much outside of things as you two.'

‘Except so far as little Casimir is concerned. You play a very important part there.' Glynde moved to reopen the door. ‘And here he is to prove it!' They could all hear the child's voice
now, calling imperatively for Jenny. ‘He's wonderfully lucky to have you.'

‘Why, thank you!' Blushing, afraid of tears, she was glad to be distracted by Casimir hurling himself at her and demanding a story.

‘Back in the nursery.' She picked him up, spoke angrily to the serf who now appeared. ‘You know the Prince is not allowed in the public rooms alone.'

‘Forgive me, pani!' The girl looked terrified, as well she might. ‘Don't tell? We're all topsyturvy above and belowstairs. It's the farewell dinner, you see, and so little notice.'

‘Farewell?' Jan pounced on it. ‘The Tsar is going?'

‘Yes, in the morning. But not the master.' The girl rather looked as if this had been bad news for the household.

‘We'd better get packing.' He turned and explained quickly to Glynde what the girl had said. ‘So, no chance of that word with the Princess.'

‘No. And not much joy for the Poles, who have built such hopes on this visit.'

‘Unless he makes an announcement tonight?'

‘Of a Kingdom of Poland? Don't delude yourself, Jan. If he'd been going to do it, he'd have done it when he came; got the good of it.'

‘He might have been thinking it over,' said Jan, obstinately hopeful. ‘And he's been closeted with Adam Czartoryski all afternoon. That has to be promising.'

‘Has Prince Adam said anything?' The Princess asked her husband, who had joined her in full dress for the evening.

‘There's been no chance. But he looks remarkably cheerful. I really do allow myself to hope … And much of it thanks to your influence with the Tsar. The dress is excellent… Will you wear the Ovinski diamonds tonight?'

‘I had thought the Sobieski emeralds.' She stood by the cabinet, opening their morocco case.

‘No, the diamonds.' It was courteous but deadly firm. ‘You are to queen it tonight.' He moved over to shut the door into the dressing-room. ‘And, apropos, I think we should be planning another Prince.'

‘Another …?'

‘Prince. And, this time, may I have the privilege of being the only possible father? I am glad,' he went on smoothly, before she could speak, ‘that you have not tried to use that tunnel of yours this time.'

‘The tunnel?' She looked up at him, aghast.

‘You really did not know it was being watched? Satisfactory. And I'm glad that no disaster has had to befall either Mr. Rendel or Mr. Warrington, my two very good friends. That being so, and I cannot tell you what a relief it is to me, may I count, in future, on fathering my own heirs?'

‘You knew?'

‘Naturally, I knew. I may be an old man, but I am not absolutely a fool, still less without experience. And, luckily for you, for us all, I also had the wits to understand your motive. I'm just sad you had so little confidence in me. I may be old; I am not precisely in my dotage. I wish I thought you could prove to me that that charming child Casimir is my son.'

She looked up at him, the diamonds hanging from her nerveless hand. ‘I am so very sorry. I had no idea …'

‘That I knew. Just so. That is why I thought I had better tell you. Now that I have decided I can trust you in the future.'

‘You've had me watched?' She was taking it in slowly.

‘Not you, my dear, the tunnel.'

‘And if someone …'

‘He would have been killed. Let me do that for you.' He took the necklace from her shaking hand and fastened it round her neck. ‘We must go down. The Tsar is not a man to keep waiting.'

‘No. Yes.' She looked up at him. ‘I'm sorry,' she said.

‘I really believe you are. A misunderstanding … A pity. We will not discuss it again.' He looked around the luxurious apartment. ‘We will pretend it did not happen.'

‘And Casimir?'

‘May be my son.'

She was white as her dress. ‘If we should have another?'

‘We will cross that bridge when we get to it. Come.'

Chandeliers glittered; champagne flowed; Monsieur Poiret's music echoed from room to room. The Tsar took the Princess's hand to lead her in the first polonaise. ‘You are pale, Princess. I have been an exhausting guest?'

‘Oh, no, sire. It has been the most immense pleasure.' Looking up at him, she thought it almost true. Impossible not to like this tall young man who bore the burden of empire so seriously. ‘I shall pray for you, sire, if I may.' she said impulsively.

‘In Polish? Dear lady –' He broke off. ‘What is that tune?'

‘It's a Polish marching song.' She recognised it with a pang of horror; hoped the Tsar would not.

‘Played by Napoleon's Polish Legion?' He smiled down at her reassuringly, bending towards her. ‘Paler than ever, Princess? No need. I may be Tsar of all the Russias, but I am no tyrant, as you must know by now. I only try to serve God, like everyone else. I wonder,' he paused for a moment, listening to the music as it rose to a dramatic climax. ‘An omen, perhaps? I have an announcement to make, later; one that will give you pleasure. I am glad to make it here, in your hospitable house, where I have been so lovingly served. What's that?' A stir on the grand staircase; a mud-stained messenger was pushing his way through the crowd.

‘Despatches for the Tsar! From Berlin.'

‘No.' The Tsar spoke as Adam Czartoryski moved forward to intercept the man. ‘A message from my sister, Queen Louise, at last. I will read it myself.' He did so, fast, once, then more slowly. Turned to the Princess. ‘Dear lady, I must leave you! It is a cry for help from a dear friend. The monster, Napoleon, has violated Prussian territory. Now they must throw in their lot with ours. With them on our side, we will defeat the Godless tyrant once and for all. A new era will dawn for the world, a time of peace, of the worship of God, of goodwill among men.'

‘And your announcement, sire,' asked the Princess, desperately daring. ‘Will we hear it before you go?'

‘Ah, dear lady, that must wait.'

‘And so he goes.' The Prince had joined his wife much later, after the banquet had drawn to its dreary conclusion.

‘I can't bear it,' she turned to him for comfort, forgetting their painful previous talk. ‘He as good as said he was going to announce an independent Poland, and now, one message, and he's off –'

‘To tilt at another windmill. It's a pity you're not his only
Dulcinea, my dear, but there it is. And now, we have business of our own to attend to. Send away your maid; I'll be your attendant tonight.'

‘I wish Granville were here. He might have some idea of what's going on.' Glynde turned to Jan as they rode away from Rendomierz in the Tsar's train.

‘The Princess looked pale this morning.'

‘It must have been an exhausting visit for her.' Maddening beyond belief to have had to ride away without a single private word with her. He had caught Jenny that morning, asked her quickly: ‘The Princess, how is she?'

‘I wish I knew,' Jenny had said. ‘She looks like death this morning.'

And so did Jenny, he thought, and found himself wondering what life must be like for her, so far from home: ‘Miss Peverel –'

‘Yes?'

‘If ever you were unhappy here, wished to go home … If I could serve you in any way … We are old friends, are we not?'

When she smiled, he noticed the slight twist to her lip, found himself remembering that day in the forest. ‘I like to think so, Mr. Rendel,' she said. ‘And it's good of you to ask, but my life is here, with the Princess. And Casimir.'

‘You'll look after her!'

‘In so far as she will let me.' And with that he had to be satisfied.

The Tsar moved on from the Czartoryski palace at Pulawy to Natoline, the country home of another powerful Polish family, the Potockis, just outside Warsaw. Lavishly entertained, he was charming, agreeable, diplomatic as ever, and said nothing positive.

‘He really is a genius at hiding his feelings,' said Glynde. ‘Natural enough I suppose, after growing up between a mad father and tyrannical grandmother.'

‘Czartoryski looks black as thunder,' said Jan. ‘Whatever is happening, it's not good news for Poland.'

‘What is?'

They reached Berlin to a hero's welcome for the Tsar from
his ‘brother and sister' the King and Queen of Prussia, who had been thrust towards his side when Napoleon's General Bernadotte marched through their territory. The secretaries were soon at work drafting a treaty between Russia and Prussia, while all the world turned out to honour the friend who had so nearly been an enemy. While the diplomats argued and the armies gathered, the Tsar seemed happy to dance attendance on Prussia's beautiful Queen Louise. And when he did leave Berlin at last, early in November, he still did not go straight to his army, but paused to visit his sister Marie, wife of the Crown Prince of Saxe-Weimar. He stayed with her several days, enjoying the talk of Goethe and Wieland and the other men of letters who illuminated the Weimar court. It was there that news reached him of one of Napoleon's lightning movements.

‘Ulm has capitulated? The French are in Vienna? Kutusov is retreating?' Glynde repeated the catalogue of disasters. ‘Why didn't Kutusov stay to help the Austrians defend Vienna?'

‘Maybe after Mack's shameful capitulation at Ulm he did not look on them as very reliable allies,' suggested Jan, who had brought the news.

‘Fair enough,' Glynde groaned. ‘The Austrians do seem to have let Napoleon fool them up hill and down dale. Both Mack at Ulm and the Austrian General at Vienna who let himself be persuaded not to destroy that vital bridge over the Danube. God knows why.'

‘He's been sent in irons to Königsberg, for what that's worth.'

‘
Pour encourager les autres?
I wonder if it will. Well, one good thing, we are off tomorrow, at last, to join Kutusov at his headquarters at Olmütz. I devoutly hope that Granville has heard the bad news, and contrives to meet us there, rather than heading for Vienna, as he wrote he intended, and certain captivity.'

‘Or even death. Another “suicide” like Pichegru and that unfortunate Captain Wright.'

‘Or barefaced murder, as with the Due d'Enghien. But Granville has a great deal of sense. He'll never walk into the lion's mouth.'

They were both immensely relieved when Granville Leveson
Gower arrived at last at Russian army headquarters at Olmütz in mid-November, and were spellbound by his tale of adventures since he had left Petersburg early in October, expecting to meet them at Pulawy. He had got as far as Minsk, the capital of Lithuania, when he learned that the Tsar meant to meet the Emperor of Austria at Vienna and set out for there, only to learn when he reached Brunn, fifty miles from the city, that Napoleon had taken it.