The Shadow of Tyburn Tree (43 page)

At the levée, as well as presenting Roger to the Count, who talked to him for a few moments on Sweden, the Doctor also introduced him to several members of the
Corps Diplomatique
; all of whom asked him to breakfast, dine or sup, so by the time he left the reception he found himself already launched in Petersburg society.

That afternoon, Natalia appeared at his lodgings cloaked, hooded and wearing a little lace mask, as was then the custom of ladies who wished to preserve their incognito when visiting
their gallants. Unfortunately she arrived a good quarter of an hour before she was expected so he had not yet dismissed Zaria who was seated in a corner of the sitting-room diligently polishing the silver buttons of one of his coats.

No sooner did the green eyes of Roger's aristocratic mistress light upon his pretty little slave than their expression changed from joyous anticipation to indignant anger. Instantly assuming the worst she advanced on him with a spate of curses and soundly boxed his ears; then, vowing in both French and Russian that she would kill the girl if she ever found her there again, she grabbed up Roger's cane and drove the unfortunate Zaria screaming from the room.

Roger swiftly endeavoured to disabuse Natalia of her black suspicions, but she knew the ways of her country better than he did; his denials of having slept with Zaria the previous night were so lacking in conviction that she obviously did not believe him, and it took him a considerable time to pacify her.

In the past week she had come as near to loving Roger as she was capable of feeling that passion for any man, and this had resulted in redoubling her natural tendency to jealousy; but so true is it that, given mutual attraction, to start with, love will almost inevitably beget love, the effect of their voyage from Sweden on Roger had been to make him excuse her worst characteristics to himself and come near to loving her in return. In consequence, the genuine concern he displayed at having upset her, and the undiminished warmth of his amorous feelings, were such that the subject of Zaria Fedorovna was at length allowed to lapse by mutual consent, and a passionate reconciliation ensued.

When Natalia had departed, after having promised to come again the following afternoon, Roger began to wonder if his little maid would return to him, or had abandoned him for good from fear of being beaten to death by his virago of a mistress. But he need not have concerned himself; Zaria's courage was equal to her swiftly-acquired devotion to him, and on his returning from keeping a supper-engagement made that morning, he found her curled up sound asleep in his bed.

Having more or less promised Natalia Andreovna that he would dismiss the child, he made a half-hearted attempt to do so next day. But, with Ostermann as interpreter, she declared that rather than face the shame of returning to her father she would drown herself in the Neva. Roger, not having the heart to drive her away, told her that she might remain, provided she was never visible in his apartments between midday and midnight except when sent for; and salved his conscience for the lies he would have to tell Natalia with the thought that she
would equally readily have lied to him. Within a few hours he had dismissed the matter from his mind and settled down to enjoy life in St. Petersburg.

For this he was given ample opportunity, as half a dozen invitations reached him on his second day in the capital from Doctor Drenke's friends in the College of Foreign Affairs, and each party he attended produced a shower of others. True, many of them were from adventurers and scallywags whose only object was to lighten his purse, but forewarned by Mr. Tooke and Admiral Greig, he succeeded in protecting himself from all but minor losses and, in the meantime, ate freely and well in the best taverns, several of the Embassies, and the houses of nobles and rich merchants.

In his role of a Frenchman he naturally took an early opportunity of paying his respects at the French Embassy. He had already learned that the Ambassador was the Comte de Ségur and the son of the old Marshal of that name whom he had known as Minister of War during his time in Paris. The acquaintance, slight as it was, but backed up by his more recent ones with the Baron la Houze and the Marquis de Pons, would, he felt sure, be sufficient to secure the Comte's agreement to presenting him at the Russian Court. But here he met with a disappointment as de Ségur was temporarily absent from St. Petersburg on a fishing expedition to Lake Ladoga.

Natalia Andreovna came masked to his lodging every afternoon, and towards the end of the week, announced that the Empress had appointed her one of her ladies-in-waiting. Roger was delighted at this news as, despite his physical attachment to her, he had no intention of allowing any scruples to prevent him from using her to further his mission; and since she was to be situated so close to the Empress he hoped to learn from her all the inner gossip of the Court. Moreover, in view of the French Ambassador's absence, it offered another avenue to a speedy presentation; so he asked her if she could arrange some means by which he could make his bow to the Empress.

‘Oh, nothing could be easier,' Natalia replied, stretching out a supple arm to reach for a bon-bon from a box that lay beside the divan. ‘She prides herself on being accessible to all, and takes especial delight in receiving foreigners. You must come to the entertainment that Alexis Orlof is giving for her on Monday evening, and I will present you to her myself.'

‘Can you get me an invitation?' Roger asked.

‘Indeed I can. You could walk in if you wished, as half the town will be there and the more people that attend the better pleased the High Admiral will be. But as you are a stranger I will ask him to send you a card. He is an old friend
of mine. In fact I am inclined to believe that he is the father of my daughter, for the child is growing monstrous like him.'

Roger turned over and stared at her in surprise. She was lying on her back contentedly munching the large, sticky sweet, and evidently did not consider that there was anything particularly startling about her announcement, as she went on quite casually: ‘Since One-Eye is at the wars Alexis is back in favour again; though I doubt whether he cares much one way or the other these days, and he leaves it to Bezborodko to advise the Empress on most affairs of State.'

‘Whom do you mean by One-Eye?' Roger asked.

It was she who now looked surprised. ‘You are monstrous slow not to recognise it as the nickname of Prince Potemkin.'

‘How should I, when I have never seen him?'

‘Ah, forgive me, dear one! I had forgot that your arrival here is so recent and that it is quite a while since he left the Residence to command the armies that are fighting the Turk. He lost his eye when the Empress first took him into favour. Until then Gregory Orlof had the ordering of everything and remained Catherine's chief confidant, as those who succeeded him in her bed were little more than handsome puppets. But so puffed up with pride did Potemkin become that, one night while playing a game of billiards, he boasted of his power to dispose of all offices about the Court. Gregory's brother, Alexis, was present and promptly put out the new favourite's eyes with a billiard cue. That was fourteen years ago, and 'tis the reason why he has ever since carried his head on one side with the look of a knowing parrot.'

‘He has performed no small feat in retaining for so long his influence over so fickle a woman as the Empress.'

‘The Orlofs have retained theirs for near double that time. 'Tis all but twenty-six years since by the
coup d'état
they raised her to the throne.'

‘But Gregory is dead now, is he not?'

‘Yes. He died some four years ago. 'Twas a curious coincidence that Catherine should have lost both him and Count Panin, the other ringleader in the conspiracy, who was her principal minister for so long, within a month of one another. Prince Gregory spent much of his later life travelling in great magnificence, and towards the end he became near unhinged from the premature death in Switzerland of his beautiful young niece.'

‘Was he so devoted to her?'

‘He positively worshipped her, and had married her but a short time previously.'

Roger raised his eyebrows. It was borne in upon him more
strongly every day that these Russians were, beyond all prediction, unprincipled; and that his lot was now cast in a veritable hell's kitchen. But Natalia was going on with complete unconcern. ‘Yet the family influence never waned, as Count Alexis had been Catherine's lover, like his brother, and he is still a power to be reckoned with.'

‘Have none of the other favourites been men of mark?' Roger inquired.

Natalia considered for a moment. ‘Nay, none of them; except perhaps Lanskoi. Now he was a true Prince Charming; so good-looking that as a girl I lost my heart to him completely, and of so sweet a disposition that, having not a single enemy of his own, he would even go out of his way to render services to those of his patron, Prince Potemkin. Eighty-four was a bad year for Her Majesty; since, in it, she lost not only Gregory Orlof and Nikita Panin, but Lanskoi also. She utterly adored him, and so distraught with grief was she that she refused all food for several days and remained for three months shut up in her palace Tzarskoiselo refusing all consolation.'

‘ 'Tis quite a revelation that the modern Messalina is, after all, possessed of a heart and capable of such deep feeling,' smiled Roger cynically.

Jerking herself up Natalia clapped a hand over his mouth and cast a frightened glance towards the door.

‘Speak not so of the Empress, Rojé Christorovitch, I implore you,' she whispered. ‘By comparison with her predecessors, she is an angel of clemency; yet, outside the circle of her intimates, she will not tolerate the faintest disrespect. Were the appellation you have given her to reach her ears she would despatch you straight-way to Siberia.'

With a muffled laugh Roger playfully bit the slim fingers that were pressing on his lips; then taking his beautiful mistress in his arms he soothed her fears and made love to her again.

He was too young, confident and carefree, to take the warning seriously. He did not know his Russia yet.

On the evening of Monday, the 2nd of July, Roger duly attended the reception at the Orlof Palace. It was not quite as vast as the Tavritscheskoi Palace, which the Empress had built for Prince Potemkin, but equally richly furnished, and was now the scene of a magnificent spectacle. From every window hung rich oriental rugs, and in front of it a huge carpet had been spread half-way across the street, so that the Empress might not soil her shoes when she stepped from her coach.

A great concourse of people entirely blocked the roadway; guests were constantly arriving in every type of vehicle, including great numbers of sedan-chairs; footmen in liveries of every hue were making way for them, and on the broad steps sweeping up to the front entrance a solid jam of people elbowed their way towards the door.

Entering the crush Roger was carried by it inside the tall doorway. There the pressure eased owing to the spaciousness of the long suite of marble-floored reception rooms. Semicircular archways gave easy access for the streams of people passing from one into another and the whole of the suite was double-tiered, the windows in the upper story lighting the jasper columns and fine pieces of statuary that adorned the walls of the lower. Along the sides of all the rooms there were long tables bearing innumerable dishes and bottles. A good half of the guests stood three deep already guzzling at them, but the supplies appeared inexhaustible, as scores of servants were constantly shouldering their way through the press with big cauldrons of food and silver coolers the size of small bathtubs packed with bottles of iced wine.

Roger began to wonder how he would ever find Natalia Andreovna in such a multitude, but comforted himself with the thought that she would be somewhere near the Empress, which should help him to locate her when the sovereign arrived. For an hour he wandered about, occasionally running into someone he had met during the past week and pausing to talk to them for a while. Then a sudden hush falling
upon the throng announced the approach of the Czarina of All the Russias.

The crowd immediately divided, forming a broad lane through the middle of each apartment, and a few minutes later Roger set eyes for the first time on the remarkable woman of whom he had heard so much.

She was much smaller than he had imagined and very fat, but extraordinarily regal-looking. A small crown, scintillating with precious gems and supported by a wreath of gold bay leaves, was set firmly on her grey hair, two curls of which fell from a rather severe coiffure down the front of her left shoulder. Her eyes were bright blue and extremely lively as they surveyed the ranks of her bowing subjects. Her nose was small but high-bridged and wide-nostriled; her mouth was tight-lipped and determined; her rounded chin jutted out despite the fleshiness of her neck.

Any other woman of her height would have been completely dwarfed by Alexis Orlof, on whose arm her hand rested, for the High Admiral was a rugged giant six feet six inches tall. But such was the strength of personality radiated by the plump little Empress that her gigantic escort seemed only a proper adjunct to her.

At first sight, in spite of the grossness of her figure, Roger found it difficult to believe that she was in her sixtieth year, for her cheeks were unlined and she appeared to have the milk and roses complexion of a girl of twenty. But, as she passed near him, he detected a certain brittle hardness about her face, and realised that the whole of it had been so heavily painted as to virtually constitute an enamel. It was only with difficulty that he suppressed a laugh, as the sudden idea came to him that if she tripped and fell her face would suffer the fate of a piece of precious porcelain and break into a hundred pieces.

To his dismay Natalia Andreovna was not among the little galaxy of bejewelled courtiers who made up the entourage of the Empress; so he followed at a distance, hoping that if he kept in her vicinity his lady-love would sooner or later appear to pay her respects to her Imperial mistress.