A young woman stood in the doorway dressed in a tailored green jacket and long black skirt. Dark brown hair hung straight and loose to her shoulders, and softened the sharp lines of her jaw and cheekbones. She carried a cloth bag with leather handles.
Konstantin took her hand and led her to the empty chair. She sat down and Konstantin returned to his seat. The lady beamed a sparkling smile.
“Good morning. My name is Dunyasha Ilyinichna.” Isobel recognised the cultured accent from the day before, but she didn’t remember seeing this smart lady amongst the other Russians.
“I am the wife of Yakov Ilyinichna, Russia’s Ambassador to London.” Her confident poise suggested ease when speaking in public; refined, but natural, which made people listen.
“You must be Isobel,” she acknowledged. “And you Terrington? Am I right?”
Isobel nodded, but Terrington stared over the top of his tankard and said nothing. He looked frightened, and his anxiety erased Isobel’s calm and forced her sleepy mind to concentrate. What was the Russian’s ambassador’s wife doing in the back streets of Southwark? She gripped her tankard tighter.
Dunyasha held up a blue velvet cosmetics bag secured by a golden drawstring. She untied the string and tipped up the bag, and the Russian White clattered onto the table.
Isobel jumped and Terrington flinched, his tankard suspended halfway between his mouth and the table.
The diamond’s fractured surface flashed in subtle tones of yellow, that deepened to darker shades below its surface. It might be alive, and it drew Isobel into some unseen infinity deep within its heart. She looked away, afraid of being lost in those curious depths.
Konstantin’s gaze fixed on Terrington, and he smiled a knowing smile.
“The Russian White,” announced Dunyasha. “Back in Russian hands at last.”
“It is good,” Konstantin replied in his slow deep voice. “It has been out of Russia for too long.”
He picked it up and angled it at the candle flames, then twisted it from side to side, so that light and shadow swept in waves across its surface. “What your Master would give to have this back. Eh?” he teased Terrington.
“Don’t tempt him with false promises Konstantin. It is no laughing matter. Too much blood has been spilt in its name.” Dunyasha snatched the diamond out of his hand, and dropped it back into the velvet bag. “Now, we have some serious talking.”
Her commanding authority demanded attention. Like being taught lessons as a child, thought Isobel, but worse, as if an impossible test was about to be set.
“Isobel.” Dunyasha’s sharp chin jutted towards her. “You have been searching for the Russian White with James Turney. Why have you been doing this?”
She squirmed, like a naughty child caught doing something wrong. “I—I didn’t mean to look for it,” she gabbled. “It’s just—well, it’s just that when I ran away with James he told me about it—because during the tour Russian men joined the company, the tour with The Classical Beauties, and I asked about them. He told me about the diamond.’ Her voice trailed to a whisper.
“I see.” Dunyasha did not sound convinced. “So it must have been a terrible revelation to discover the diamond, the imitation diamond, in your London house?”
This abrupt statement hit like a slap, and she nodded, “yes,” because that was all she could do.
“Why did you run away from home?”
Her stomach tightened. This intense questioning unnerved her, and she sipped her tea as she thought of an answer. The tea tasted strong, almost stewed, and unsweetened. Would Dunyasha know if she lied? She might, something frightened her about the woman’s determined manner. She took a deep breath. “I was very unhappy.”
“Why?”
“Do I have to tell you?”
Konstantin reached across and patted her arm. “It is important that you answer all our questions, because then we will know how to help you.”
“How to help me?”
“We all want to get James out of Bedlam.” Dunyasha’s white teeth gleamed in the soft light.
The mention of James reassured her. She needed their support to rescue him. She took a deep breath. “I ran away from home, because I was very unhappy.”
“This you have told us already.” Dunyasha’s fixed smile remained unchanged. “And I think it is sad. You live in big houses with servants and everything that a young lady of means could possibly need. So what is it that makes you unhappy?”
Isobel sipped her tea. She didn’t want to tell the truth. Her reasons, spoken out loud, sounded silly. She sprang upon variations of the truth, but they were all raw, and unformed, because she had no time to think them through; all that was left was the truth, plain and simple, because there was nothing else to say.
“I ran away from home, because I didn’t need to do anything ever again for the rest of my life. I could have anything I wanted. Nothing was ever going to happen to me that wasn’t already decided. I ran away because it was something that I could do.” She hid behind the tankard. Her cheeks burned, and she didn’t want them seeing her blush.
“I see,” replied Dunyasha. “You were bored. You had everything and yet it wasn’t enough. Am I right?”
Isobel nodded. To admit the truth, despite her blushes, wasn’t so embarrassing, and her anxiety about this strange woman lessened. She lowered the tankard. “I was doing something for myself, and whether it turned out good or bad didn’t matter, because it made me feel alive.”
Dunyasha bowed her head as if to acknowledge that she understood. “You are a very spirited young lady. I admire that. I too have fought for a life that made me more than just a woman. It is a choice, one that must be taken with open eyes. I am too old to have children now, but my husband’s life is my life too. We work together, and I will never regret my decisions. But you do not work; you act on a whim, a fancy. Is that enough for you?”
Isobel had never heard any woman speak like Dunyasha before. Did relationships, and what a man and woman were permitted to do, in life and society, work differently in Russia? She didn’t know how to answer and said nothing.
“So.” Dunyasha’s chin jutted upwards. “It was chance that brought you and James together?”
“Yes, on the boat to France.” She placed her tea on the table.
Dunyasha’s head tilted as she waited for her to continue. What did she want to hear? That’s what happened; clear and straightforward. The silence provoked new feelings of guilt.
“Why? Did you think I knew him already?”
“I do not know,” Dunyasha reasoned. “But it is curious that you meet. The sister of the man who has the Russian White meets the operator who brings in the agents from Russia to search for the diamond. You see how this makes me think?”
Such an explanation did sound unlikely. But facts sometimes were. She had nothing to hide, and she spoke her reply with conviction. “I had never heard of the diamond before I met James.”
Dunyasha folded her hands on the table. “I think I want to believe you.”
“That’s what happened. Why would I lie? I have nothing to gain by making it up.”
“That is what I have to be sure of.”
“You think I was looking for the diamond too?”
“No. But you may have been double crossing us. Your brother may have sent you out to find James and report back to The Brotherhood about his activities. It might be many things. And yet your explanation could be the right one. It is so simple that a liar would find it hard to make it sound convincing.”
Isobel’s cheeks burned again, but this time from anger. She banged her tankard on the table. “I love James very much.”
Dunyasha’s smile widened. “This I believe. You have sincerity, something that cannot be manufactured. So I repeat, it must have been a big surprise when you found out about your brother, and his involvement with the diamond?”