Polonaise (47 page)

‘I hope so. You will go and see Monsieur Talleyrand too?'

‘He'll come and see me.'

‘Her mind was made up,' Glynde told Jenny next day. ‘No use trying to dissuade her. And, truly, I believe it might be for the best.'

‘The best for her, at any rate. I'm so confused! What ought we to be wishing, you and I?'

‘Not victory for Napoleon, that's one thing certain. The question is, can he stop now, or will he have to be stopped? If only there was any news! But the Princess seems to have learned nothing in Warsaw.'

‘No. It's frightening how totally a whole people can be kept in the dark. If Bignon won't say anything even to the Princess … I wish you'd hear from Jan Warrington.'

‘So do I. But with preparations at such a height on each side of the border, it's hard for messengers to get through, even the Brotherhood's. What does Marylka say?'

‘She's frightened. She thinks there has been trouble among Them again.'

‘I suppose that stands to reason. If the Princess can't make up her mind what line to take, how should They?'

‘They are surely better informed.'

‘If They can trust their informers. Every third person is probably a spy these days. Or a double spy. I do hope you are immensely careful what you say.'

‘I say nothing to anyone but you. Well, there's nothing to say, is there? We're here; we're helpless; we've Casimir to think about. I believe I do hope the Princess gets to Paris and gets some clear guidance at last, one way or another.'

‘Either from Napoleon, or from Talleyrand, you mean?'

‘I suppose that's just what I mean.'

* * *

‘Paris?' Anna Potocka was dandling her son, who had been born in January. ‘You won't need to go that far. Bignon tells me the Emperor sets out for Dresden any day now. All the crowned heads of Germany are to meet him there.'

‘Which means war?'

‘So we all hope! The war that will make this Duchy a kingdom! You've no idea what a winter of hope this has been, Isobel. The Duchy is an armed camp now. Have you seen the uniforms in the streets?'

‘And heard some stories from the serfs about the way some of our “allies” behave. As if we were an occupied country, not a friendly one. Didn't I hear something about a Westphalian officer using your mother-in-law's carriage for his butcher's order? Returning it reeking with blood?'

‘A misunderstanding,' Anna shrugged. ‘Monsieur Bignon soon dealt with that for us. Of course, there are problems, with food and forage so short after last year's terrible harvest. We landowners are going to get a magnificent price for our grain, when we do decide it's time to open our barns. You're going to need it, aren't you, my dear, after the way the taxes turn out to hit the new estates of 1809 like yours. But it's in a good cause. Our army is magnificent! Young men find their way across the frontier every day, by tricks, by bribes, to join in the great fight against Russia.'

‘We've not seen many of them down in our part of the world.'

‘I did hear that Volhynia is proving less active than Lithuania. It will all change when our Polish army crosses the border. Then they'll come out in their thousands, the Polish Cossacks we need. How can they before? Those who are at all suspect are already being forcibly moved east. Wolodkowicz, the hero of Kosciusko's war, has been taken to Smolensk. Lucky for you that your son is so young, or you would be subject to the Tsar's threats, too. Anyone with a son or brother in our army is liable to have his Russian estates confiscated. Did you hear about Dominic Radziwill?'

‘No?'

‘He couldn't stand the pressure, left his Vilno estate, came here to Warsaw, offered to raise a squad of 200 cavalrymen. He's a Colonel in our army now, but his Russian estate's
been confiscated.' She looked at the ormolu clock on the chimney-piece. ‘It's almost time for my working party. Will you join us in our work, my dear?'

‘What work?'

‘Making bandages, of course. Bignon says it's the most touching thing he ever saw, all of us aristocratic ladies at work for our country's good. Have you seen him yet? Or is he too busy with his beautiful Laure?'

‘Laure?'

‘You've not heard? Her husband's Poniatowski's aide-decamp. She and Bignon have been having the most outrageous affair … The rumour is she's going to get one of these new-fangled divorces, like Marie Walewska.'

‘Marie's really divorcing the Count?'

‘So they say. Well, poor old man, he's nearly bankrupt, and Marie's a rich woman now, in her son's name. Napoleon has given little Alexander all kinds of lands and titles. I suppose his mother doesn't want the old Count to get his hands on any of it. Or his creditors.'

‘Not very pretty.'

‘Very practical. I believe she's coming to her own estate at Kiernozie any day now. She could hardly go with Napoleon to Dresden, granted he'll have his wife with him, but she'll be about just the same. And don't say you don't find that very pretty, Isobel.' She smiled down at her son and tickled his chin. ‘Isn't he a beauty? There's a lot to be said for marriage. All very well for Marie Walewska; she's powerfully protected; she can afford her divorce.' She bent to kiss the baby. ‘You didn't bring your family with you? I quite long to meet the future Lord Ringmer.'

‘His brother has remarried,' said Isobel. ‘I learned quite by chance, the other day.' She rose. ‘I'm afraid you will just have to do your best to defend me against wagging tongues. I have never had any intention of remarrying. My son is my entire life.' She smiled down at the little Potocki. ‘Prince Casimir has immense prospects, remember.'

Back at home, she was still seething from this conversation when Monsieur Bignon was announced. ‘My dear lady,' he
took her hand with the remembered lack of grace, ‘you should have summoned me when you reached town, instead of staying here in your little corner and leaving me to learn of your presence from others. You are going to Dresden, I believe.'

‘Yes.'

‘A long journey for a beautiful lady who just needs the advice of a friend.' She discovered with surprise that he still had her hand. ‘Let me be your friend? Let me advise you, Princess?' He raised it to his lips.

‘I should be most grateful.' She pretended not to be aware what was happening. ‘I need to know what to do for the best for my son. Is he safe at Rendomierz?'

‘Are any of us safe, anywhere?' He pushed back the loose sleeve of her dress, his lips moist as they moved up her arm. ‘You ask me to read the omens for you, Highness? There have been plenty: comets and portents, signs in the heavens. Fools believe in them. I believe in the star of Napoleon. Stay at Rendomierz, you and the Prince your son. Be happy, be safe, be my friend?' His hand was pushing its way now through the light fabric of her dress towards her breast. ‘I will watch over you and yours, I promise you, gracious Princess.'

‘For a price?' She had never missed Jenny so much. ‘Excellency,' she pulled away, deepest irony in the use of his title. ‘Your price is too high. As one of the merchant class, you will understand that.' She tugged at the bell-rope. ‘I will wish you a very good day.'

After he had gone, she was angry with herself, with him, with Anna, with everyone. She had made no secret of her passionate affair with Murat; had not needed to. Now, just because that old man, her husband had died, she was the victim of malicious tongues, a prey to vulgar creatures like Bignon. Who had not even really wanted her. Intolerable. Disgusting. She still felt those clammy, clumsy lips on her upper arm. He had promised her safety, at a price. She actually wished now she had refused more gently. Would she have acted differently if Anna Potocka had not told her about Laure? And what were his promises worth anyway?

She was glad to be distracted by a servant who announced Monsieur Genet. ‘The very man.' She greeted him with an enthusiasm that surprised him. ‘You come from Dresden? I
am just packing up to go there. Tell me I am wise to do so.'

‘No, I'm from Paris, with a message for you from Talleyrand. He's been spared the round of speechifying that's due to break out at Dresden; sent me ahead to prepare the way for him here.'

‘Here?'

‘Yes. This is absolutely for your ears only. We are private here?'

‘Entirely.'

‘My master expects it to be official any day: he is to take over from Monsieur Bignon.'

‘Talleyrand Minister here? But that must mean war.' She paused, frightened at her own conclusion. Napoleon would only have plucked his most able Minister out of disgrace for a very good reason. Because he meant to go to war and needed a firm hand in Poland, which would inevitably be headquarters, supply base, everything.

‘It looks like it,' said Genet gravely. ‘I have received my master's permission to rejoin my regiment, which is already at Poznan. There are great events in the making, Highness, and I could not bear to sit them out as an idle administrator here.'

‘Hardly idle,' she said drily. ‘Administrators, able ones, are just what the Duchy needs.'

‘Which is doubtless why my master is coming here. Making order out of chaos has always been his genius. The Polish battalions are on their way back from Spain; you are going to see stirring times here, Princess. No need to go to Dresden.'

‘You don't advise it?'

‘I hardly see the purpose of it. Madame Walewska is packing up, ready to come home, did you know?'

‘I heard something about a divorce.'

‘You are well informed. The Emperor plans to leave the Empress behind in Dresden, to see her family. He is sure to come on here to Warsaw, granted the inducements, both romantic and practical. Why not wait here, Princess? Prepare to entertain him on your own ground. And your old friends in his train. Oh – there's something else my master bade me tell you. He has had recent information from England. That
delightful man, your tutor, is likely to find himself Lord Ringmer any day now. His brother's a very sick man, and his new wife has left him. A remarkable change in Mr. Rendel's fortunes. A tidy estate, and a title that goes back to the Norman Conquest. Older than yours, Princess?' He changed the subject. ‘How is the little Prince? And Miss Peverel?'

‘Well, both of them. Should I move my household here, Monsieur Genet? Did your master say anything about that? Rendomierz is dangerously exposed if it should really come to war.'

‘Not the kind of war Napoleon makes. He is surely planning one of his sudden attacks. Straight into the heart of Russia, taking everyone by surprise, maybe – if fate is kind to him as usual – capturing the Tsar himself, as he so narrowly missed doing at Austerlitz. Then, imagine the scene of reconciliation, the brotherly peace negotiated, as at Tilsit, and perhaps our armies free for the conquest of the Indies.'

‘Is that really how he is thinking?'

‘He is sure to be thinking grandly, as always. And all the strategic planning, as well as all logic suggests that the attack will be well north of here, across the Niemen, spearheading straight towards Petersburg or Moscow, so your family should be safe enough in the south. Better there than here in Warsaw, which is bound to be the centre of affairs and appallingly overcrowded as a result. You know what it is like here in summer at the best of times: no place for a child. And by next winter, who knows, perhaps it will be all over and you will be crowning a new King.'

‘Napoleon himself?'

‘I'd not think so. One of his brothers perhaps?'

‘And my son?'

‘You know he's too young, Highness. He is the future, and who can predict that? But keep him safe.'

‘At Rendomierz, then, not Vinsk?'

‘Dear God, yes. I'm afraid Vinsk really may be in the front line. I think you would be wise to send a message to your people there, couched in the most general terms, warning them to be ready to evacuate if need be. You know how the French army marches, living off the land it conquers. I'd not want my
worst enemy to be in the way when Napoleon unleashes it upon Russia.'

‘But, surely, Russian-held Lithuania? He'll treat that as Polish, as friendly?'

‘Hungry French soldiers don't make such distinctions. It's why things have gone badly for us in Spain. The British really seem to try to supply their armies – or to pay for what they take. Will you tell Mr. Rendel about his improved prospects?'

‘I think not. After all, there is no way, at the moment, that he could get home to England, and I need him here.'

‘Yes. My master said I was to consult you about this. Mind you,' he was preparing to take his leave, ‘if it really does come to blows between us and the Russians, they may patch together a peace with the British. But I'm sure you're wise not to distract Mr. Rendel with information that's no use to him. And, in the end, maybe he will find himself both Lord Ringmer and confidential adviser to the future King of Poland.'

‘Who knows?' She held out her hand for his kiss, forgiving him everything else he had said that she had not liked.

All up and down the long, indeterminate border between Russian and French Poland the tension mounted, with more and more troops massing while vital installations were moved back, away from immediate danger on the frontier itself. Jan Warrington, arriving at Vinsk from Vilno late in April was surprised and relieved to find that an armed Russian camp had sprung up across the tributary of the Niemen on which the palace stood.

‘I'm happy to see you so well protected,' he told Miriam. ‘They've given you no trouble, I hope.'

‘Nothing to signify. The commanding officer sent a very civil message when he arrived. A promise of protection for the Princess Ovinska and all her possessions. In fact, the Brotherhood had warned me of their coming, and told me I had nothing to fear. Jan, which side are the Brotherhood on?' They were in each other's arms, safe in the privacy of her room, but even so she spoke in a low voice, straight into his ear.