Fire On The Snow

Chapter One 1860-1

Chapter One 1860“Alida!”

The sharp voice was startling. Then there was the slap of a closed fan on a bent neck, which brought Alida to her feet with a little cry.

Deep in her book she had not heard her aunt enter the bedroom.

“Wasting your time, as usual!” the Duchess said harshly in her hard ugly voice. “If you have nothing to do, Alida, I will find you something. I have told you over and over again that I will not have you reading and filling your head with a lot of nonsense!”

“I am – sorry, Aunt Sophie.”

“So you should be!” the Duchess retorted. “This is deliberate disobedience on your part, as you well know. Where did you find this book?”

There was a moment’s silence before Alida said hesitantly,

“From – the library.”

The fan slapped her again, this time on her cheek. She took a step back, her small fingers creeping up to the burning mark.

“How often have I told you,” the Duchess stormed, “not to take books from the library? They belong to your uncle and they are not suitable for a young girl.”

She saw the answer in Alida’s eyes and, before she could speak, the Duchess continued,

“I know that your father allowed you to read any of his books, but must I repeat, for the thousandth time, that I do not consider that either he or your mother had any sense of responsibility nor were they proper guardians for the morals of a young female.”

The Duchess accentuated the word ‘morals’ and then, with an unpleasant twist of her thin lips, she added,

“That is, of course, hardly surprising, seeing in what profession your mother was engaged.”

Alida clenched her hands together.

She knew what was coming. She had heard it all too often before.

At the same time it never ceased to disturb her, to make her yearn to spring to her mother’s defence and to deny the cruel things that were said about her.

“How indeed,” the Duchess continued, “could a creature who lowered herself to appear on the stage know anything about propriety? A woman whom anyone could pay to watch, a woman who had none of the modesty and delicacy that should be an indivisible part of the feminine character.”

‘I must not answer – back – I must not!’ Alida whispered to herself.

She knew only too well what would happen if she did.

When she had first come to live with her uncle and aunt two years ago after her parents’ death, she had not believed it possible that anyone could utter such cruelly defamatory accusations against her mother.

But she had learned through bitter experience that to argue or even reply brought swift retribution in the shape of her uncle’s whip.

After two years of living in The Castle, Alida had acquired a self-control that gave her some small satisfaction because she knew it that surprised her relatives.

Nevertheless it was always hard to hear her sweet and gentle mother abused and know herself too cowardly to go on fighting a losing battle.

“Books are for men,” the Duchess was saying. “Women should sew and a girl in your position, Alida, should make herself useful.”

“I have tried to do that, Aunt Sophie.”

“And so you should,” the Duchess said. “You are a pauper! Do you hear me, Alida? A pauper! You live on the benevolence of your uncle and the least you can do to show your gratitude is to help me to the best of your ability, which unfortunately is lamentably ineffective.”

“I do try – Aunt Sophie.”

“Then put that book back in the library immediately,” the Duchess ordered, “and, if I ever catch you taking one out again and, if I find you reading when you should be working, I promise you that your uncle will punish you extremely severely.”

Her eyes were cruel as she added,

“You may think now that you are eighteen you are too old to be whipped, but I promise you that, if you behave like a disobedient child, you will be treated like one.”

“Yes, Aunt Sophie.”

Alida picked up the book and moved towards the door.

“One moment!” the Duchess snapped.

Alida paused and looked back at her aunt apprehensively.

Her large eyes in her small face were full of unshed tears, not only from the pain of the fan which had left a livid mark on her cheek but also because she always felt like crying when she heard her aunt spit venom at her mother’s memory.

Yet she realised that nothing she could say or do could change the bitter hatred that her aunt and uncle had for her.

“I came to tell you something that will undoubtedly greatly please you,” the Duchess said slowly. “Equally your behaviour makes me wonder whether once again I should ask Mary to change her mind.”

“Change her mind?” Alida asked in surprise.

“Your cousin is very kind and generous to you,” the Duchess said, “although Heaven knows you don’t deserve it. She has asked, Alida, that you should accompany her to Russia.”

Alida stood very still, the expression on her face incredulous.

“To Russia?” she echoed, thinking that she could not have heard her aunt correctly.

“Don’t repeat everything I say in that irritating manner!” the Duchess exclaimed. “Mary is to journey to St. Petersburg the week after next when her approaching marriage to His Highness Prince Vorontski will be announced.”

“Oh, Aunt Sophie, how wonderful for her!” Alida cried. “I hope she will be very happy.”

“Mary will undoubtedly be extremely content to be the wife of such a distinguished personage,” the Duchess replied. “And she has requested, I think misguidedly, that you should accompany her as her companion until she marries.”

“And I am to leave with her – the week after next?” Alida asked.

“That is exactly what I have just said. I cannot help feeling that Mary has made a great mistake. I would prefer that she should have chosen one of her friends. Perhaps Lady Penelope Berkeley, a charming well-bred girl. But for some reason I cannot fathom she wishes you to accompany her.”

There was no doubt from the Duchess’s voice that she found such a request extraordinary.

But Alida’s eyes were shining with excitement.

“It’s very very kind of Mary,” she said, “and I will, of course, do everything I possibly can to be of assistance.”

“So I should hope!” the Duchess said sharply. “There are not many young women who get such an opportunity. I can only pray, Alida, that you will behave yourself.”

“Of course I will, Aunt Sophie.”

“It’s doubtful if you know the difference between right and wrong, considering the bad blood that runs in your veins,” the Duchess remarked venomously. “But you will not be in St. Petersburg long for the Grand Duchess Hélène with whom Mary will be staying, will, I am sure, wish the marriage to take place soon after her arrival in Russia, in which case you can come home immediately by the cheapest and quickest route.”

“Yes, Aunt Sophie.”

The Duchess looked her up and down.

“I suppose,” she said grudgingly, “that you will require some more gowns, although goodness knows what your uncle will say to such extravagance.”

“I have very few that are wearable,” Alida replied. “I have tried to alter some of Mary’s old ones, but she is so much taller than I am.”

“She is certainly distinguished,” the Duchess said, “while you, Alida, are insignificant, as you should be. We will send for Mrs. Harben from the village and she can make you a few dresses for the morning and perhaps one or two evening gowns.”

Before Alida could thank her she continued,

“There will be no time for more even if we could afford the expense. Besides no one will look at you and I hope that you will have the good taste to efface yourself.”

She paused to add impressively,

“Although you are styled a companion, you will be in fact nothing more than a senior servant. You are there to obey Mary’s commands and to see to her comfort.”

“I understand, Aunt Sophie.”

“I will send a groom to the village immediately to tell Mrs. Harben to come here this evening,” the Duchess continued. “I think it would be best if all your gowns were in grey, a quiet puritanical grey.”

Alida was about to exclaim in protest, but she bit back the words even as they reached her lips.

‘What is the point of arguing?’ she thought.

She knew only too well that the Duchess intended to humiliate her and to make her feel subservient so that she would be quite unnoticeable.

She longed for colour. Dresses of hyacinth blue or leaf green, primrose yellow or lilac mauve, even the pure white, which she should be wearing at her age as a debutante, would be a joy.

But she knew that her aunt was right when she said that she had to behave as a servant, for that was what they had tried to make her ever since she had come to The Castle.

It was seldom that she had a moment to herself.

It was unlucky that her aunt should have entered her bedroom unexpectedly to find her reading a book that she had taken from the library.

The fact was that it was a Latin Classic would not placate the Duchess, who thought that all reading was a waste of time and that women should occupy their fingers and not their brains.

Nevertheless, at the moment, the fact that she had been forbidden ever to borrow a book again was not the catastrophe that it might have been because, incredibly, she was to travel with Mary to Russia.

Alida had realised that for some weeks since a letter had been received from the Grand Duchesse Hélène, aunt of His Imperial Majesty the Czar of all the Russias, there had been whispered consultations and a feeling of excitement that she could not exactly put into words.

She had known that something was being contemplated that concerned Mary, but no one confided in her, least of all her cousin.

At the same time, because she was intelligent, Alida had been well aware that for some time the Duchess had been manoeuvring to arrange an important marriage for her only daughter.

The Duke of Berkhamsted, known among his contemporaries as ‘the Praying Duke because of his sanctimonious air and his much professed propriety, had married the granddaughter of His Highness Prince Frederick of Reichenstein.

The Duchess never allowed anyone to forget her Royal descent, even though Reichenstein was a poor Principality and of little consequence in Germany itself.

But she was related, even if somewhat distantly, to many of the Crowned Heads of Europe and she had set her heart on Mary obtaining an unparalleled social position, which befitted her outstanding beauty.

Unfortunately there appeared to be few eligible young Crown Princes or Heirs-Apparent among the European hierarchy and the Duchess had finally written to the Grand Duchess Hélène of Russia, who before her marriage had been a Württemberg. The answer had obviously been as gratifying as had been hoped.

Released by the Duchess Alida ran along the corridors of The Castle.

She had been housed in the coldest and most uncomfortable wing, occupied by the senior servants. Mary was in a more modern part of the building with a large and comfortable bedroom and sitting room looking South over the garden.

As Alida expected, her cousin was lying on a chaise longue as she invariably did after luncheon.

It was in fact the one time of the day when Alida was free from the demands that Mary fired at her unceasingly.

She entered the sitting room and thought, as she looked at the girl lying against the silk cushions, her feet covered by an embroidered shawl, how lovely she was.

There was no doubt that Lady Mary Shenley’s golden hair, china-blue eyes and pink and white complexion, combined with almost classical features, made her a perfect example of English beauty.

Alida closed the door and advanced across the room to her cousin.

“Aunt Sophie has just told me the wonderful news, Mary! How kind, how very kind you have been in asking that I should accompany you to Russia! I can hardly believe it or tell you how overwhelmed I am.”

“I thought you would be surprised,” Mary remarked.

Her voice was hard and somehow not in keeping with the beauty of her face.

“I cannot think why you have asked for me,” Alida said humbly, “but, whatever the reason, I can only say ‘thank you’.”

Mary looked at her cousin with something like contempt.

“Can you really be so stupid?” she asked sneeringly. “I should have thought that it was obvious that I have no wish to take a stranger with me! Someone who would be instructed to watch me and expect me to behave as I have to do here with all that sanctimonious praying and psalm-singing!”