Hearing mention of the Okhrana twice in one night made my palms start to sweat in my gloves. I didn’t understand what he meant about the “past history.” My stepfather had served in the army with great distinction as one of its top generals, and my mother had been completely uninterested in politics.
I heard someone come into the room. The baron leaned in even more and put his arm over the back of my chair. I forced myself not to cringe away from him. I knew he was trying to intimidate me.
When he spoke again, his voice was so low I knew he didn’t want anyone else to hear. “I realize girls are not interested in politics, but the situation is very precarious right now,” he said. “We must do everything we can to ensure stability if we are to win the war. Even though your stepfather is retired, he is still a notable figure, and unfortunately, he has enemies who have not forgotten the past. He must be seen to be unwavering in his support of the czar. If you care for him at all, you won’t want to be a burden on him.”
His eyes were so fixed on me, I felt my mouth go dry. Did he want me to reassure him that there were no treasonous thoughts allowed in our house? What if the baron was part of the secret police himself? I wouldn’t put it past him to have some devious plan in mind to trap me. He could report any response I made.
“Thank you for your concern,” I managed to choke out.
A group of men came in, talking in loud voices. I shifted away from the baron to get a look. It was the orchestra. They ignored us as they surrounded the food tables.
The baron reached into a pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He set it on the table. “Look at the quote from the American and then show this to the Tamms. See what they say. Then burn it until there is nothing left but ash.”
I picked up the paper and unfolded it. As soon as I understood what it was, I dropped it on the table, wanting to wipe my gloves on my dress as if the words had leaped off the paper and were stuck to me, screaming for everyone to read. Being in possession of a paper calling for the overthrow of the czar could get me arrested. Even sitting at a table next to such a paper could be grounds for arrest.
He pushed it toward me and smiled as if he was pleased with my reaction. “I suggest you read it all.” I picked it up again. It was in Russian, but as I skimmed it, I saw what the baron had been referring to. One line stood out. As the American Patrick Henry said in his country’s successful bid for freedom, give me liberty or give me death!
I recognized the name Patrick Henry. I was a bit shaky on American history because not much of it had been taught in the French and Russian schools I’d attended, but my brother Miles had many books on the American Revolution. He had gone through a phase where he’d describe in excruciating detail seemingly every day of the fight for liberty. We’d had to beg him to stop talking.
Did the baron think I knew who had written it because it quoted an American? That was absurd. There were thousands of Americans in Petrograd and hundreds who spoke Russian well enough to write such a thing.
“Remember, you never know who is spying on you,” he said. “Don’t trust anyone. And you should think about how much easier your life would be in America. You don’t belong here.” He stood up and nodded to me, then walked out of the room without another word.
As soon as he was gone, the full implication of his words hit me, almost taking away my breath. Even though I doubted the Tamms had anything to do with the flyer, if the Okhrana suspected them of revolutionary activities, my association with them turned the spotlight on me too, and that meant they might put spies on me as well. So far my black-market arrangements for the hospital were secret, but it would be harder to keep them that way if I was under scrutiny.
But why give me a note to show to the Tamms while warning me away from them? I couldn’t decide if it would be safer to leave it where it lay or take it away with me. I rubbed my temples, feeling the ache come back. I needed to be away from this party so I could think.
I folded up the paper as small as I could and tried to put it into the top of my glove, but my hand was trembling so much I dropped it instead and it fell to the floor.
Before I could reach for it, another hand appeared and picked it up. I looked up to see a young man in the dazzling white dress uniform of the Imperial Horse Guard standing in front of me. His image wavered and the room grew hotter. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them again, I realized I was not seeing a ghost. Pavel would never come back, not even as a spirit, since he was buried a long way away in an unknown grave on a battlefield.
This young man was not nearly as tall as Pavel had been, though he had the same blondish hair and dark eyes. The line of his jaw wasn’t quite as square, and there was something about him that made him look out of place in the uniform, though I couldn’t pinpoint what that was.
He held out the paper. I snatched it out of his hand and squeezed my own tight around it as if it were going to somehow jump out and open by itself.
I saw a shudder pass through him, and I noticed he had a cane gripped in his other hand. His fingers were very long and white against the ebony of the cane, and he wore a gold ring with some sort of bird on it. It was only then that I noticed a bulky bandage around one of his knees.
“Where did you come from?” I blurted out.
“I’ve been sitting over there.” He pointed behind me, and I twisted around to see a small table nearly hidden by some of the potted plants. He motioned to his leg. “Dancing does not agree with me at the moment.”
The table wasn’t close enough that he could have overheard the baron and me, which was a relief. Nevertheless, I wished this young man would go away.
“You managed to get a chocolate mouse,” he said, motioning to my plate. “Lucky you. Those were my sister’s favorites.” His stared down at the plate of chocolates as if transfixed by them.
I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t just snap my fingers to get his attention or get up and leave. “Would you like one?”
He gave a start and turned his gaze back to me; then his eyes flicked to the paper. So he’d seen the baron give it to me.
I felt the dampness in my palms again.
He shifted his weight, another shudder passing through him. When he spoke, I could tell it was taking some effort for him to get the words out. “I see you are acquainted with Baron Eristov. Have you heard the old saying ‘Be friends with the wolf but keep one hand on the ax’? In the baron’s case, I’d make that two hands, and I’d also make sure the ax was very sharp.”
In another circumstance I might have been interested to hear what he knew about the baron. With a piece of treason in my hand, I didn’t want to say anything that would encourage him to continue talking.
I stood and picked up the plate with my other hand. “I have to be going now.”
“Wait, if you could give me just a moment,” he said. “I wanted to meet you earlier, but I couldn’t find anyone to do a proper introduction and I couldn’t ask you to dance. I’d like to talk to you.”
As I walked away, I called back over my shoulder, “I’m sorry, I really have to be going. Perhaps next time.” I knew I was being very rude, but I didn’t need to get to know any more handsome young soldiers who would disappear within weeks. I couldn’t play the game of pretending everything was fine, writing them cheerful letters, waiting for them to return in triumph, and then have my heart ripped out and crushed when news came of their death. No more. One had been enough. And I didn’t need any distractions. Keeping the hospital open while staying out of the hands of the Okhrana was more than enough to occupy me.