She saw the challenge in his stance, and would have dearly loved to have got something of her own back, but she did not wish to show the general’s children an unladylike display. So instead of taking up his gauntlet she convinced herself to turn again, with dignity, and carry on towards the house.
But even so, it gave her satisfaction to see all the children pile themselves upon him as she left, well armed with snowballs of their own, their shouts and laughter as they brought the dark man to his knees a thing of beauty to her ears.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Katie fell ill during Holy Week, and though her fever had broken when Sunday arrived, she was yet far too ill to have gone with the rest of the family to church Easter morning, so Anna stayed home with her.
Truthfully, Anna was happy enough to keep out of the crush of the day’s celebrations. Russian Easter was a very big affair, the most important holy day in all the year, so much so that the Empress had sent heralds with their trumpets and their drums all through the city to announce that, for all Holy Week and Easter Sunday too, the men were not to wear full mourning dress but put on coloured waistcoats with their black coats and black breeches, and the ladies of St Petersburg were all to wear white hats.
The general and his wife and all their other children had looked very fine as they had headed out this morning to the little church on Greek Street, with the brown-robed friar following behind them.
Father Dominic had sat with Anna earlier that morning and had led her through the prayers that were best suited to the day, so that her soul would not be any way neglected from her absence at the church. To do likewise for Katie, Anna sat now at the bedside of the little girl and read to her the words of the apostle John, to help her understand the day’s importance.
She’d begun her reading with her favourite part, the night of the Last Supper and the promises that Christ had made to those whom he’d so loved, and who had followed him: ‘And if I shall go, and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and will take you to myself; that where I am, you also may be.’
When Anna had first read those words herself, she had felt her eyes fill suddenly because it was a lovely promise, one that Captain Jamieson had made to her, and one she’d badly wanted to believe. It would not happen now, of course, but still the words felt warm within her heart, and gave her comfort of a sort, as did Christ’s words two chapters on: ‘So also you now indeed have sorrow; but I will see you again, and your heart shall rejoice; and your joy no man shall take from you.’
Those words reminded Anna that she would see Captain Jamieson again, if not in life then in that place where none were ever to be parted, where his daughter and her father had already gone before.
She turned the page, and went on reading. At the moment of the crucifixion, Katie raised a protest.
‘But,’ she said to Anna, ‘He did nothing wrong. Why are they being cruel to him?’
The concept of Christ’s suffering in payment for the sins of others wasn’t something Anna could make Katie understand. No matter how she tried explaining it, the little girl seemed more and more perplexed. ‘But why?’ she asked again.
There was no simple answer, Anna reasoned, but she sought to put it into simple terms. ‘Because he loved us very much. And when you love somebody very much, you do what you must do to keep them safe.’
A sudden loud explosive boom made all the windows rattle in their frames, and Katie gave a shriek and clapped her small hands to her ears.
Smiling reassurance, Anna quickly set the Bible to the side and reached for Katie’s hands, to draw them down and hold them fast within her own. ‘There’s nothing you need fear. ’Tis but the guns of both the fortress and the Admiralty, set off at once. Did you not hear them earlier this morning?’
Katie shook her head, still wide-eyed and uncertain.
Anna told her, ‘Well, I heard them well enough, for it was only four o’clock and fully dark outside. I leapt so high out of my bed I’m half-amazed I am not on the ceiling still.’
That brought, as she had hoped it would, the first suggestion of a giggle from the little girl, but did not take the worry from her eyes. ‘Why do they fire the guns? Is there a war?’
‘Of course not. No, the first time that the guns went off this morning, it was only to make sure we all did waken for this special day. And this time, it was telling us the Empress and her family have now finished with their service at the church, and it is time for all the people of St Petersburg to come and pay her court now, at the palace.’
From memory, Anna painted a bright picture with her words so that the child might see the whole of what was happening right now – the merry groups of noblemen and ladies all descending on the Winter Palace, where the Empress and the princesses were waiting to receive them.
Katie asked, ‘And will my father go there, too?’
‘Yes, for your father is a most important man.’
Katie looked well pleased by that, and snuggled back into her bed while Anna carried on describing how the Winter Palace would be looking on this Easter morning, with the court musicians gathered all before it, playing drums and trumpets, flutes and oboes, and the kettledrums that rumbled in one’s chest behind the breastbone like a roll of regal thunder.
‘And,’ said Anna, ‘when the people greet each other, there will be the giving of the painted eggs, which is great fun. Do you give eggs to one another in Livonia, at Easter?’
Katie, being little, could not say with any certainty.