“You know a small part of my childhood.”
Confused, Leonida turned to study her mother’s stiff back. Countess Karkoff never discussed her humble beginnings.
Never.
“You have told me that you were raised in Yaroslavl’ before coming to St. Petersburg,” she answered, her words tentative.
“My father possessed distant ties to the Romanovs, but after he argued with Emperor Paul he was too filled with stubborn pride to apologize and he was forever banished from court.” Nadia’s scornful laugh echoed through the room. “Stupid man. We lived in a frozen monstrosity of a house, miles from the nearest village, with only a handful of peasants to keep it from utter ruin. I was buried in the midst of savages with only my nurse to bear me company.”
Leonida’s heart softened with sympathy. This vivacious, extroverted, highly fashionable woman stuck alone in a gloomy old house? It must have seemed like hell to her.
“I cannot imagine you in such a setting,” she breathed.
Nadia shuddered, one hand lifting to stroke the diamond necklace around her neck, as if to reassure herself that her grim memories had not stolen it away.
“It was a misery, but it did teach me that I would do anything to escape,” she rasped harshly. “When my aunt decided it was her duty to invite me to her home, I ignored my father’s threat to disown me. What did he have to offer me beyond years of lonely isolation? Instead I sold my few pieces of jewelry and made my way to St. Petersburg alone.”
Leonida chuckled in admiration. Of course she had. Nothing would be allowed to stand between Nadia and her dreams.
“You are truly amazing, Mother,” she said. “There are few women who would have possessed such courage.”
Nadia slowly turned, a rueful smile touching her lips. “It was more desperation than courage and, had I known I was expected to be more a servant than a guest beneath my aunt’s roof, I am not entirely certain I would have been so eager to endure the grueling journey.”
“I am certain. You have never allowed anything to stand in the path of what you desire.”
Her mother shrugged. “True, but not even my considerable determination would have given me the opportunity to enter society without the assistance of Mira Toryski.”
It took a moment for Leonida to place the name. “The Duchess of Huntley?”
“Her family were neighbors of my aunt,” Nadia explained. “She was already a favorite among society, of course. How could she not be? She was beautiful, wealthy and yet astonishingly kind. I shall never understand why she took pity on me and convinced my aunt to allow me to attend a few of the smaller gatherings, but I shall forever be grateful.”
The Countess’s deep affection for her girlhood friend could not be mistaken. Strange, considering Nadia preferred to surround herself with handsome young officers rather than the ladies of society.
“That is when you met Alexander Pavlovich?”
“Yes.” The dark eyes softened as they always did at the mention of the Emperor. “He was so handsome and charming. I had only to glance at him to know he was a man destined for greatness.”
Leonida resisted the urge to prod for more details of her mother’s relationship with Alexander Pavlovich. There were some questions better not asked.
“This is all very fascinating, Mother, but I do not entirely comprehend what is troubling you.”
Nadia’s hands shook as she smoothed them over the gauze skirt. “I need you to understand my deep affection for Mira.”
“Why?”
“Not long after I came to St. Petersburg Mira was introduced to the Duke of Huntley. She, along with most of the women in society, lost her heart to the handsome Englishman and returned with him to London to be wed.” Nadia grimaced. “I was devastated by the loss of my dearest friend. She was…well, let us just say that my only comfort was exchanging letters so we could continue to be involved in one another’s lives.”
“Perfectly understandable,” Leonida said gently.
“Perhaps, but I was still foolishly young and when Alexander Pavlovich began to make his interest in me known, I was eager to share every detai
l with Mira.”
If anything, Leonida was only more confused. “From all I have heard, your affair with Czar Alexander was not precisely a closely guarded secret.”
“No.” Nadia shrugged, as always unrepentant at her intimate connection to the Emperor. “Our…relationship was a source of endless gossip, but our private conversations were never intended to be shared. Not even with a dear friend whose loyalty to the Romanovs could never be questioned.”
Leonida stiffened. “You revealed Alexander Pavlovich’s private conversations to the Duchess of Huntley?”