The Gathering Storm (11 page)

The Oldenburg Hospital was just beyond the Greek church. Dr. Kruglevski liked to make rounds on his patients before going to his research lab every morning.

The nurses, in their flowing white habits, did not look
happy to see me. A stout, grim-faced nurse met me at the front door. “Our patients are sleeping! Come back during visiting hours!” she told me.

I shook my head, teeth chattering. “I am here to see Dr. Kruglevski.”

“Are you ill, child? Where are your parents?”

I wasn’t sure if being the daughter of the hospital’s patron would help me or hinder me at this time of the day. I coughed a little. “Please, madam, I am from the Smolny Institute. I’ve been feverish and restless all night.” I had no idea who would be maddest when they discovered my charade: the nurses, my parents, or the headmistress at Smolny. I shivered.

The nurse noticed and quickly hurried me inside. “Come along, then. It’s much warmer in here, by the stove. Dr. Kruglevski is already making rounds. He can see you in just a moment.” She sat me by the fire, wrapped me in a woolen blanket, and handed me a hot mug of tea before bustling off to take care of the patients on the ward.

The doctor recognized me instantly. “Duchess! What in heavens are you doing here at such an hour?” he asked. “Is your mother well?”

Drawing the blanket closer around me, I said, “Doctor, some of the students at Smolny have been afflicted with the strangest illness. I’ve come to beg for your assistance.”

The doctor took a cup of tea one of the nurses handed him, and sat in the chair opposite me. “A strange illness? Tell me of the symptoms.”

“It starts with stomach pains and general malaise, followed within several hours by coldness in the extremities
and muscle weakness,” I said. “So far only four girls have become sick, including two servants.”

I’d spent my entire study hour the day before trying to discover what the sick servants had in common with Aurora and Dariya. Something that would explain why they were the only four in the school who were ill. I’d not been able to come up with anything.

“It could be food poisoning,” the doctor mused, stirring his tea thoughtfully.

“But the illness seems to strike randomly. Madame Metcherskey called for Dr. Gallitzin but he thinks it is a touch of influenza.”

“Bah! Gallitzin is a fool. Believes leeches can still cure everything.”

I nodded in agreement. The man wasn’t open to modern thoughts or treatments.

“Very well, I will come and examine your sick friends. What did your cousin eat last?”

I struggled to think. She had walked with me in the gardens, where we had eaten pieces of rock candy, and then we’d had cold mutton and borscht and lemon tarts for our welcome-back dinner. Dariya had eaten with the rest of us, but she and the others had not become ill until the morning—and had not come into direct contact with any of the other sick girls until they were all confined to the sickroom.

“Come, let us check on your Dariya Yevgenievna,” the doctor said. He gave the head nurse instructions to call for his carriage. “I must say it is perplexing,” he told me as we waited by the front door. “None of my patients at the
hospital have presented with quite the same symptoms that you describe.”

The sun was just beginning to come up as we raced through St. Petersburg. I knew Madame Tomilov would frown upon me for leaving the school grounds with no chaperone. I hoped, though, that if my parents were informed, Papa would not be too angry. Sick people needed proper medical care. And there was no way they would get it without my interference.

Madame Metcherskey and Madame Orbellani both met us at the front gate. Madame Metcherskey looked contemptuous, her upper lip curling in disapproval as I hastened out of the carriage. Madame Orbellani, however, seemed relieved to see me. “Katerina Alexandrovna, thank goodness, we have been so worried about you,” she said, embracing me before Madame Metcherskey could say anything.

Madame Metcherskey’s eyes widened as she saw Dr. Kruglevski exit the carriage. “Young lady, what is the meaning of this?” she asked.

I stepped forward and introduced the doctor to my instructor. “He is Papa’s favorite doctor,” I said. “I’m sure he can discover what is wrong with Dariya Yevgenievna and the others.”

“Please forgive this foolish girl, Doctor, for disturbing you,” Madame Metcherskey said, glaring at me. I knew I was going to be punished for this stunt. Severely. But I did not mind, as long as Dariya got better. I had faith that Dr. Kruglevski would know exactly what to do.

“There is nothing to forgive, madame,” Dr. Kruglevski said. “If there are ill students within this institute, I must be
allowed to examine them. Or I shall consult the tsar to ask permission, and tell him I was denied entrance. Will you be so kind as to take me to them right away?”

Madame Metcherskey began to retort something but closed her mouth into a thin line and turned around. “Follow me, then, if you please. Madame Orbellani, take Katerina to the headmistress’s office, if you will.”

Madame Orbellani laid a hand on my arm as the doctor followed Madame Metcherskey. “Oh, Katerina, why would you run off and do such a crazy thing? Running down the streets of the city before sunrise? What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking of my sick cousin, and a doctor who I know can help her.”

Madame Orbellani sighed as she led me to the mauve sitting room to wait for my scolding. I glanced up at the large portraits hanging in this room. Many princesses had been educated here, and the halls were covered with their likenesses. In this room was a picture of a very young Madame Metcherskey, in her court gown. She had been a beauty when she was younger, and had been a lady-in-waiting for the dowager empress Alexandra Feodorovna. My great-grandmother.

I hated not being with my cousin while Dr. Kruglevski examined her. I was anxious to learn his diagnosis. And what his recommendations for treatment would be.

I glanced at the golden clock on Madame Tomilov’s desk, anxious most of all about my scolding. The longer I waited, the more I was convinced that I would be expelled from Smolny. Thoroughly disgraced, my family would send me
away to the South of France and I would never have to worry about Danilo or his sisters again.

A sudden thought struck me.

Perhaps there was a school of medicine that accepted women somewhere in the South of France? Somehow, exile from Russia did not sound so bad.

“N
ow, Katerina Alexandrovna,” Madame Tomilov said, sweeping into the room with her black skirts swishing noisily. “I have been informed of your reckless actions of this morning.” The heels of her boots clicked against the wooden floor as she hurried over to the windows and threw open the curtains, letting in the bright midmorning sun.

“Please, madame, could you tell me what Dr. Kruglevski discovered about Dariya?”

“I would not presume to know,” she said. “The doctor has deemed it prudent to admit your cousin at the hospital for further examinations.”

“Oh! Please let me see her!” I begged. “She will be so frightened in the hospital by herself.”

“Certainly not. I have already sent word to Dariya’s family. In the meantime, we must discuss your inexcusable behavior this morning with your parents. I have also sent
them a message, asking them to come and speak with me immediately.”

“My parents are coming here?” That was unheard of, except in extreme cases of misbehavior. Which, of course, applied to me. I wondered if I should start packing up my belongings.

“You are to return to the classroom until I send for you. Do not discuss either your cousin’s illness or your own behavior. I would prefer that you not distress the other students with this news right now. They will learn about Dariya soon enough.” With that she picked up a fountain pen and began writing, ignoring me completely.

Quietly, I got up and walked down the hallway to the large classroom. Augusta stopped me in the hall on her way to her German class. “How is Dariya?” she asked.

“They won’t tell me,” I said, which was partially true. It had been years since any of us had been so ill that we weren’t cared for in the sick wing. Even Princess Marija, Elena’s older sister, had been tended to here at Smolny instead of taken to a hospital. Perhaps that was why she had not survived.

If I tried to stop worrying about Dariya, I began to worry about myself. I was not sure what my parents would say when they arrived and heard what I had done. I took a deep breath as I opened the classroom door.

Augusta was about to ask me another question when Madame Orbellani beckoned me inside. She did not bother to stop the French lesson as I slid into my desk next to Elena’s.

Elena smirked. “You must be mad, Katiya!” she leaned
over to whisper. “I cannot imagine being brave enough to sneak out of Smolny like that!”

“
Mesdemoiselles!
” Madame Orbellani warned. “
Écoutez, s’il vous plaît!
”

I bent my head down and pretended to study my tattered copy of Voltaire. Madame’s French droning made me sleepy, and I found myself daydreaming, staring out the large half-moon window at the gray January sky. I wondered if Dr. Kruglevski had found out what was wrong with Dariya yet. If it wasn’t influenza, why had it come on so suddenly? Food poisoning came on rapidly—but it seemed to me that more of the students would have been affected. At least none of the other girls had been ill enough to be taken to the hospital. If they all shared the illness, perhaps that boded well for my poor cousin. I hoped that she was on the road to recovery.

“Katerina!” Elena was whispering, trying desperately to get my attention.

Ignoring her, I looked back up at Madame Orbellani, then down at my textbook, and sighed. This was going to be an impossibly long day.

But not as impossibly long as I feared. We were eating lunch in the dining hall when one of the servants summoned me to Madame Tomilov’s sitting room. My parents had finally arrived. Erzsebet looked at me sadly and gave my hand a squeeze. “I’ll say a prayer for you.”

My stomach was twisted into knots. My time of reckoning had come.

Papa was sitting in the red parlor, along with Dr. Kruglevski.

“Where’s Maman?” I asked.

“She has taken to her bed,” Papa said, his voice short and not a little tired. “What is this all about, Katiya? Madame Tomilov says that you left the institute without a chaperone before breakfast and walked all the way to the hospital?”

I nodded. “Yes, Papa. Dariya was taken ill. I’ve been so worried about her.”

“And Dr. Kruglevski tells me that your good sense has probably saved your cousin’s life. Madame Tomilov, I would not have my daughter punished for taking such wise action.”

The headmistress was speechless. Her lorgnette fell from her shaking hand. “Your Highness, our rules are meant to be enforced, for the safety of your daughter, and all of the other girls.”

I was speechless as well. I’d never heard anyone speak to the headmistress in such a manner.

Dr. Kruglevski spoke up. “Madame Tomilov, Dariya Yevgenievna is in stable condition right now, recovering from a very potent poison. If Katerina Alexandrovna had not called for me, her cousin would have certainly succumbed to the poison’s very lethal effects.”

The headmistress looked stricken. “Poison?
Mon Dieu
, not here at the institute. That is impossible!”

Dr. Kruglevski nodded. “I’m afraid it is so, madame. I have not been able to detect all the components of the poison yet, but I am sure we’ll be able to come up with an antidote soon. I will need to obtain blood specimens from the other sick girls as well to make a comparison.”

Papa leaned forward. “Madame Tomilov, I suggest you
move quickly to determine the culprit, before any more girls are harmed.”

The headmistress turned pale as a ghost. “What shall we do? What if it is one of the cooking staff?” She rang a little brass bell on her desk, and soon Madame Orbellani came in.

“
Oui
, madame?”

“His Imperial Highness and Dr. Kruglevski believe that there is a criminal within the walls of Smolny. Possibly in the kitchen. Dariya Yevgenievna has been poisoned.”

“That cannot be!” Madame Orbellani said with dismay. “Our cook staff has been working at Smolny for years. None in our kitchen would do such an evil thing.”

Papa and Dr. Kruglevski exchanged looks. They must have already discussed this between themselves. “What about the rest of the staff? Has anyone been newly hired?”

Madame Tomilov nodded, frowning. “We took on several new staff members for this school year. However, they all came with excellent references.”

“They must all be brought forward for questioning,” Papa said.