“Is it time?”
Ivan nodded. “He is here.”
The princess didn’t move. It was as if she had been paralyzed. “Already?”
Ivan nodded again. He looked almost as desperate as the princess. What was it about the general’s arrival, Sophie wondered, that could have upset both of them so much?
A door slammed below.
“Anna!” A man’s voice bellowed out, strong, sonorous. “Ann-aaaaaa!”
Sophie saw the princess put her hand to her chest as if to calm herself. She glanced back at the portrait of the last Princess Volkonskaya and her lost diamonds. Then, taking a deep breath, she walked unsteadily toward the door. Ivan offered her his arm, but she pushed him away and disappeared into the gloom of the palace beyond.
At the bottom of the broad stairs, a man in gray military uniform waited. He stood with his legs planted slightly apart, as impregnable as a gun battery. He took off his cap and gloves, put the gloves into his upturned cap, and smoothed his black hair with his hand. The light from the muslined chandelier fell onto the floor at the man’s feet. He could have been standing in snow. He tapped his foot, impatient.
Sophie, Delphine, and Marianne looked over the balcony and down into the atrium.
“He’s very handsome,” Delphine whispered.
“They suit each other,” Marianne replied.
“General!” The princess ran down the stairs to join him, her voice light and trembling. Ivan followed slowly. He looked wary of the general, Sophie thought. But protective of the princess, too: His hand kept moving toward the top of his hip in a practiced gesture, as if he might still find his soldier’s pistol there.
“Anna! Anna!” the general crooned. “What have you done to me?” His voice was bright, cruel, his English faultless. He stroked the fur draped over the princess’s shoulder, took her hands, and looked at the diamond rings. “Very beautiful,” he smiled, but it was like a salute: something he had learned to do. “I can see that life at the Volkonsky Winter Palace suits you — and that you have been spendingmy money.”
The princess snatched her hand away as if she had touched something hot. The general laughed. And then, even though he had not once glanced up and did not appear to have noticed the girls standing in the shadows on the balcony, he looked up now and stared straight at Sophie.
“Don’t sulk! Don’t hide! Come down!” he cried.
The girls looked at each other. They knew already he was the sort of man who gave orders and expected to see them carried out quickly. They walked down the stairs toward him.
The general put his arm around the princess. “Anna Feodorovna is the only woman in Russia who could make me travel so far!” He squeezed her shoulder and she winced. “I swear! No other woman in all of Russia can command General Grekov!”
“Grigor,” the princess whispered. “Please … I hate it when you make fun of me.”
The man ignored her; he seemed to enjoy showing off to the girls, displaying his power over the princess. “She snaps her fingers, stamps her foot. I say … ‘Woman! I have wars to fight! Do you think I can divert my military train just to pay you a visit?’” He laughed, dropped his arm, and stepped away. “But what am I to do? When Anna Feodorovna summons me, Imustcome!”
He took a deep breath, expanded his chest, and seemed to fill more than the space surrounding him. He surveyed the atrium with a long, appraising stare and said, “So! This is the magnificent Volkonsky Winter Palace that I have been told so much about!” He sauntered over to a large gilt mirror, its glass mottled and watery. He leaned closer to his own reflection. “She promises me bears and wolves and diamonds!” He turned around. “But so far all I find are three schoolgirls!”
He strolled toward them.
“You must be our French guest,” he said to Delphine. “Just as I imagined you would be … very stylish.”
Delphine flushed. She was about to speak, but the man had already taken Marianne’s hand, raising it to his lips in an old-fashioned gesture of courtesy. Marianne, flustered, grabbed it back.
“Marianne? The clever one!” He laughed. “It’s the glasses! They give you away!” Marianne blinked and moved closer to Delphine.
“So this …” He took a step back, as if to admire a painting. “Thisis the enigma! The famous Sophie Smith!” He reached over and pinched her cheek. Sophie flinched. On his fingers was the perfume of a heavy eau de cologne. With a shock she saw that his eyes were only pupils, with no color. “Not much to look at and all alone in the world, with no one to protect her.” He brushed a speck of dust from his immaculate jacket.
Sophie felt her heart in her throat. This man was dangerous. A wolf.
He turned his head slightly toward the princess. “I hear from my associate that three girls have arrived at the Volkonsky Winter Palace as guests of the Princess Anna Feodorovna Volkonskaya.” He stopped for a moment, as if he might have expected someone to speak. “I await a telephone call to invite me to the party.” He stared at the princess.
“I don’t have any information for you,” the princess said.
“But they have been here for over twenty-four hours!”
“I haven’t found —”
