‘Thank you. But do stand, my dear, that I might see your gown, it is most lovely. You look quite a part of my garden.’ She smiled. ‘I am pleased to see that you have worn your very best, to do my daughter honour. Did Vice Admiral Gordon bring that gown from Paris for you?’
‘I believe the silk did come from Paris, yes,’ said Anna, ‘but the gown is my own work.’
‘Indeed?’ The Empress arched her eyebrows. ‘You are skilled, Anna Niktovna. Perhaps I will have you come and sew for me. How would you enjoy that?’
How she truly felt would be of little consequence, she knew, because when royalty asked something of you, there was only one way you could answer. ‘Very much, Your Imperial Majesty. But I would pray you would not so command me until after General Lacy’s wife has had her child this autumn, for I’ve given her my promise I will stay with her till then, and I’d not wish to break my promise.’
It was bold of her to speak so to the Empress, and she knew it, but she stood her ground and hoped that she had not offended. One of the ladies who stood by the Empress – a lady-in-waiting, presumably – looked wholly shocked, but the Empress herself only said, ‘General Lacy’s wife is very fortunate to have engaged such a loyal companion. Have you left the vice admiral’s house, then, to live with the Lacys?’
‘I have, Your Imperial Majesty.’
The Empress Catherine looked at her with eyes that seemed to see past the simplicity of those few words, to understand some hidden piece of Anna’s inner workings. ‘I, too, was raised in the houses of others,’ she said very gently.
Anna knew this, naturally, for everybody knew the story of how Empress Catherine had been raised from humble circumstances to the throne of Russia, though the story changed depending on the teller. All agreed she had been orphaned as a small child, and been taken to the household of a parish clerk, and then from thence to service in the family of a minister of Lutheran persuasion, where she’d stayed until arrangements had been made for her to marry a young soldier in the Swedish army. Some said that the marriage had occurred, while others said the soldier had been killed the morning of the wedding, but all were in agreement that the Russian army had then overrun the town, and Empress Catherine, brought before the commandant, had so impressed him that he had found service for her in a house of great respectability, from which she’d passed to service with Prince Menshikov, who’d introduced her to his friend the Tsar.
The prince himself came forward now to stand beside the Empress Catherine. Anna had not marked him out among the other men before, but there was no mistaking his lean features underneath the white wig that rose high on the crown of his head.
Anna curtseyed again, and the prince gave a nod of acknowledgement before he murmured some words to the Empress. Since the Tsar’s death the prince had kept close to her side, and the usual whispers had started to spread. General Lacy had recently said in disgust, of the gossips: ‘They’d have the poor Empress so busy with lovers she’d never be left with a moment to sleep. ’Tis the curse of a woman of influence that she must always be reckoned unvirtuous.’
Anna agreed. There was certainly nothing in how Prince Menshikov and Empress Catherine were talking to each other now to imply they were anything more than good friends of long standing.
The Empress was saying, ‘I am well aware, Aleksandr Danilovich, but this will take but a moment.’ She looked again to Anna. ‘I trust that General Lacy is as kind as he appears to be?’
‘He is indeed a kind man, and a good one, Your Imperial Majesty.’
‘I am glad to hear it. My younger daughter always has been charmed by him, and thinks him most heroic. And this young man who is with you, this is General Lacy’s kinsman, is it not? The one who fights?’
So the rumours had risen to high places. Anna said, ‘Mr O’Connor is kin to the general, yes, Your Imperial Majesty, but if you will permit me to correct what you have heard, he was provoked to fight, and only to defend a lady’s honour, so I hope you will not think to judge him harshly.’
Edmund, she was thankful, couldn’t understand a word of what she said, for he did not speak any Russian. He’d have surely been amused to see her rise again to his defence.
The Empress looked past Anna to where Edmund stood, his head still bent respectfully.
‘Is that his sword, behind him on the ground?’ she asked.
‘It is, Your Imperial Majesty.’
‘Why did he remove it?’
‘We were dancing,’ Anna said.
The Empress made no comment, only turned her head a little as Prince Menshikov leant in a second time to tell her something, then she nodded and looked back at Anna with a kindly smile. ‘Till the next meeting, Anna Niktovna.’
Dipping in her final curtsey Anna saw the Empress give a gracious nod to Edmund as she passed with all her party down the pathway, heading back towards the banqueting pavilion at the north end of the garden.
‘Well,’ said Edmund, moving up to stand behind her, ‘what the devil was all that about?’
She said, ‘Nothing of consequence.’ And then, struck by a sudden thought, ‘But now you’ve met the Empress.’
Edmund laughed. ‘Aye, so I have. It seems what you did tell me on the meadow was not all a lie. But then, the very best of lies,’ he said to her, ‘are hidden half in truth.’
And with a smile, he went to fetch his sword.
Rob handed me half of the orange he’d peeled. ‘Well, I certainly had the impression,’ he said, ‘that was only the second time Anna and Catherine had met. Did you think that?’