Lorimers at War (24 page)

Her first reaction was one of amusement. The maid had turned her into a princess. Kate was tall enough to give the impression of elegance when, as now, the cut of her clothes imposed it. No doubt she would destroy the illusion as soon as she moved, for she had never been able to subdue an unladylike stride. But as long as she stood still, straight-backed and with her head held high, she recognized that Prince Aminov would not need to be ashamed of his partner at the ball.

For a moment she felt all the ordinary feminine excitement of a young woman who sees herself to be attractive. Her complexion was freckled instead of fashionably white and her auburn eyebrows were too thick. But her wide-set green eyes were clear and bright and her smooth forehead, strong cheekbones and generous mouth combined to give an impression of freshness and candour. Half ashamed of her moment of conceit, she admitted to herself nevertheless that she was not too bad-looking after all. She lifted her heavy skirt off the ground and walked slowly downstairs.

Two footmen were waiting to throw open the doors of the drawing room. As Kate paused, just inside the doorway, Prince Aminov rose from a Louis XV sofa to greet her, but it seemed that for a moment he could neither move nor speak. He stared as though he could hardly believe what he saw, and Kate was conscious that she was staring back in very much the same way. The uniform which he was wearing for the evening was too elaborate
even to be mess dress. The profusion of gold braid and the jewelled Order on its blue diagonal ribbon must surely have been designed for attendance on the Tsar. Kate, who despised ostentation and was accustomed to judge men by their behaviour and not by their clothes, told herself that she ought to laugh, or at least not to notice. But instead she was overcome by the dignity of his presence. Seeing the prince in his informal day clothes she had already realized that his appearance was attractive, but now she had to admit that he was outstandingly handsome.

It was an artificial effect, of course. Unmarried though she might be, Kate had seen so many men naked that she was able mentally to strip Prince Aminov of all his trappings, and deliberately now she did that, It was the tightness of his high collar, she reminded herself, which made him hold his head so proudly erect, when his shoulders more naturally hunched themselves over the piano keyboard. It was the thickness and embellishment of his jacket which gave the impression of a strong chest, when really his figure was slight and unathletic. It was his tailor who had cut trousers of such elegant slimness, his valet who had polished hand-made shoes of such smartness. She was looking at a production, not a person, but the very fact of recognizing this made her see the man more clearly, and what she saw had an effect which she could not have anticipated. Both as a medical student and as a doctor working amongst soldiers Kate had counted a good many men as her friends, but she had never fallen in love with any of them. To be attacked by first love at the age of twenty-five was so overwhelming an experience that she was silenced by the pain of it.

She tried to fight against the realization of what had happened, but Prince Aminov did nothing to help her. She could feel his hand trembling as he raised her own to his lips; and although only his eyes told her how much he admired her appearance, they spoke so eloquently that
she knew she was not mistaken. Neither of them spoke as, in answer to his pull at the bell, a footman appeared with a full-length sable cape to protect Kate from the bitter cold of the evening.

Even during the journey to the Radziwill palace – short in distance but lengthened by the need to take their place in the long line of equipages which were bringing the guests to this gala occasion – they made no attempt to converse. Kate could think of nothing but the strong, smooth hand which was holding her own beneath the fur of the cape. Only when at last they stepped inside the reception area, dazzlingly lit by scores of chandeliers, did Prince Aminov laugh in what seemed a deliberate attempt to break the spell and to bring to a glittering social evening only the gaiety it deserved. They were surrounded by warmth and light and music and champagne. As soon as Kate had been presented to Princess Radziwill, and curiously but graciously received, the prince led her into the first of a series of reception rooms. A gypsy orchestra was playing, almost drowned by the noise of conversation. Kate accepted a glass of champagne and switched her thoughts into French and her expression into the vivacity required to accept meaningless compliments from the strangers to whom she was bewilderingly introduced.

The ostentatious display of wealth took her breath away. Kate had often heard Alexa describe how the women of the Russian nobility wore their dresses cut almost indecently low in order to adorn the décolletage with the maximum number of diamonds; but she had been talking about the early years of the century. It had not occurred to Kate that the same fashion would still prevail at a time when Russia had endured two and a half years of war and was on the verge of defeat. She thought of the bewildered Russian peasants who lay wounded in her hospital and found that she could not pretend to smile any longer. Even the champagne seemed less sparkling, although all around her the effervescent chatter continued unabated.

Prince Aminov was sensitive to her change of mood, although not prepared to indulge it.

‘I've just seen the Grand Duke Boris disappear into the card room,' he said. ‘To continue, no doubt, his conspiracy against his cousin Nicholas. My own belief is that it's safer to do one's plotting in public. So I am going to present you now to someone whom you must charm. You may think him stupid, as indeed he is, but you must use his stupidity to make him believe that he would have a conquest if only I were not here to guard you.'

Flirtation was not Kate's style, and to pretend to flirt was even more degrading. She was about to demand an explanation and was ready to behave coldly if she did not receive one. But Prince Aminov gave her no time to ask questions before introducing a white-haired gentleman of distinguished appearance, conspicuous even in this company by the number of medals he wore. His name caught her attention at once for this was the titular head of the Committee of War Materials which was so stubbornly refusing to hear her case. Kate knew as well as his staff that he rarely went near his office. But she also knew that without his authority no one would ever take action.

That she should attempt to flatter a man whose criminal inefficiency was responsible for so much suffering made Kate feel sick with disgust. But as long as she had the power to relieve that suffering by any action of her own, it would be equally criminal to let pride hold her back. Like any simpering ninny she forced herself to smile at his jokes and blush at his compliments. Whether she could have brought herself to ask him a favour she did not need to discover, for Prince Aminov was doing it for her.

‘Bandages? Medicines? Of course she must have them. Who is the idiot who has been holding them up? Well, it will be Lev Ilyich Kharsov. He must be shown where his duty lies. Tomorrow, my dear young lady, you must take
tea in my office. At four o'clock. Or five. I shall expect you. Everything will be arranged. And in the evening you must join me in my box at the ballet. The whole of St Petersburg is in a state of civil war, disputing who is the greatest dancer. Is it Pavlova, or Kschessinska? Or even Karsavina? You must form your own opinion, so that you can argue with the same heat as the rest. Till tomorrow, then.'

Kate's face was pale with anger as someone else claimed his attention. Prince Aminov misunderstood her expression.

‘Don't worry. He won't try to seduce you. There will be secretaries in and out of his office all the time. He'll want them to see that he's still irresistible to beautiful young women, but that's all. You must go, in order that Kharsov, whoever he may be, understands that you are a friend of his master. By tomorrow evening, all your difficulties will have disappeared. And now that our business is over, we may give ourselves up to pleasure. Will you dance?'

Still too disturbed to object, Kate allowed him to lead her through a series of imposing rooms, each crowded with guests. In the first two chambers the white walls and ceilings had been covered with a filigree of gold, so delicate that it might have been spun by a spider. But the walls of the ballroom, and the surfaces of the pillars which supported its high roof, were covered with sheets of mirror, each set at a very slight angle so that the light of the chandeliers was dazzlingly reflected and magnified. Another orchestra was playing here. As Prince Aminov turned to face Kate with a formal bow, she slipped her finger through the loop on her skirt to lift the hem from the floor, and was ready to dance.

Her French conversation had not disgraced him, and neither did her waltzing. The disquiet she felt stiffened her back and increased the dignity of her bearing, but did not distract her feet from their rhythmic movement. As
though she were watching from outside, she was conscious of herself moving around the ballroom with as much grace as any other of this aristocratic company. From time to time she glimpsed her own reflection in the mirrored wall, but hardly recognized it. She, just as much as Prince Aminov, had become a clothes horse and not a person. What she saw had no connection with the way she felt.

The prince, delighting in the dance, was holding her more tightly than he ought. Only an hour or two ago his closeness would have given her pleasure, but now she resisted it, refusing to remember the flash of desire she had felt as her host rose to greet her. Her mind had established control over her body again, and all the pride she had felt in Prince Aminov's admiration, all the excitement of her own reaction, had been devoured by an anger which left her at once hot and cold. When the dance came to an end she stood for a moment without moving before raising her head to look steadily at her partner.

‘I'm very sorry, Excellency,' she said. ‘I can't stay here. I must ask you to be good enough –'

He interrupted her anxiously. ‘Are you not well?'

‘I will say that I'm not well, because I don't wish to disgrace you by letting anyone guess any other reason. But really I am perfectly well. I ought not to have come here tonight, that's all.'

‘You must explain more than that.' The orchestra began to play again and he led her out of the ballroom, opening a door at random so that they could talk in private. Surrounded by their host's collection of musical clocks, Prince Aminov waited to hear what she had to say.

‘I can't give you a good explanation. It's just that I feel this occasion isn't a suitable one for the times. When there's so much poverty in the city and so much suffering and death all over Europe.'

‘If princesses never gave balls, the poverty in the city would be far greater,' Prince Aminov pointed out. ‘Because Princess Radziwill entertains her friends today, there will be money tomorrow in the pockets of servants, grooms, florists, jewellers, dressmakers, caterers, musicians.'

Kate was tempted to voice her suspicion that princesses took a good deal longer than a single day to pay their bills, but she had no wish to quarrel. Instead, she tried as sincerely as possible to make him understand a little of what she had felt earlier that day.

‘I was walking in the city this morning, Excellency,' she said. ‘You must know far more than I do about what is happening here. But it seems to me that there is an inexorable division – a chasm – opening between the sort of people who are here in this palace tonight, and all the others.'

‘The division has always been there,' he pointed out.

‘Then I suppose it must always have been accepted. Until now. I don't believe it's going to be accepted any longer. And I have to make it clear which side I'm on.'

‘I would like you to be on my side,' he said.

‘You don't need me. And there are so many others who do. I can't in honesty say that I'm on your side, because that would mean supporting everything which has helped to create that hell out there on the battlefield. I thought perhaps I could forget that just for one evening, when it seemed that to come here might be of practical use, but –'

‘But we have talked of bandages and drugs, and you have remembered.' His voice was still soft, but it had lost the languid drawl which sometimes gave the impression of insincerity. It seemed to Kate that he was sympathetic, but she did not dare to accept sympathy. Just because she had found him so attractive earlier in the evening she needed now to distance herself from him.

‘I'm ashamed,' she said. ‘Ashamed that I came here in
the first place, and ashamed of asking you to take me away. I know I'm behaving unpardonably. Enjoying your hospitality, wearing your sister-in-law's dress, your family jewels. A complete stranger, and you've been so generous to me! I'm more grateful than I can say, but all the same –' She sighed, angry with herself and with the whole situation.

‘But all the time you have a headache and I have insisted that you should let me take you home. Come, then.'

They made their way back through the golden rooms, thronged with people who were now not entirely sober. Nor, Kate suspected, was the Aminov coachman, who had not been expecting a call so soon; but fortunately the horses knew their way home. Back in the Aminov palace the prince himself took the sable cape from Kate's bare shoulders and smiled at her.

‘May I ask you an impertinent question? How old are you, Dr Lorimer?'

‘Twenty-five.' Kate had promised herself she would never be the sort of woman who was ashamed to admit her age.

‘When I first saw you, you looked older; did you know that? But tonight, for three hours, you have looked twenty-five – or even younger. If I tell you that you ought to wear satins and jewels always I suppose I shall make you angry. But beauty deserves to be adorned. I hope you will stay young for a little while yet, Dr Lorimer.'

Kate wasted no time in protesting that she was not beautiful, although she did repeat once more her apologies for her behaviour. But when she returned to her room she could not resist the temptation to stand in front of the glass for a second time that evening – for if anything in her life was certain, it was that she would never look like this again. She made an attempt to rebuke herself for vanity, but instead she found herself flushing with pleasure because Prince Aminov had called her beautiful.