‘How charming to see you!’ exclaimed Maria, as she entered the private drawing room on the first floor at the western end.
Unlike the less imitate Raspberry Parlour, where she was the only Grand Duchess to entertain divorcees, her private drawing room was decorated in Louis XVI style. The walls were covered in blue and white silk, with a matching blue carpet and it had amazing views over the river.
‘It is very kind of you to invite me,’ replied Militza, walking over to the window. ‘Delightful.’
‘Isn’t it? I never tire of looking at those boats or the fortress,’ Maria said, smiling. ‘It has to be one of the more sublime views in St Petersburg.’ She exhaled, as if overcome by her appreciation of her own vista, before pausing and then adding, ‘Have you met Anna Alexandrovna Taneyeva?’
Militza had not noticed the young, round woman sitting on the sofa. She had fleshy cheeks, simple eyes and plump little fingers that clutched tightly on to her handbag.
‘She’s one of Tsarina’s new ladies-in-waiting,’ added Maria.
‘I have actually been at the palace a few months now,’ replied Anna, with a small smile.
‘Yes, I think I have seen you.’ Militza looked her up and down. The woman seemed benign enough, but Militza wasn’t someone to rely on appearances alone. ‘Although I don’t think we have actually been introduced.’
‘No,’ said Anna.
‘Anna’s father is a composer of some note,’ said Maria. ‘And her family are friends of the Yusupovs.’
‘The young Felix, Nikolai and I are childhood friends. Although I don’t see very much of them any more. They are often abroad.’
‘I hear Felix might be going to Oxford University,’ said Maria.
‘I wouldn’t know anything about that,’ Anna said. ‘Although I do remember dressing up with him a lot. He was such a pretty boy.’
Maria laughed lightly. ‘Zinaida was so desperate for a girl she used to dress him up in girls’ clothes!’ She laughed again. ‘Tea?’
‘Thank you,’ Militza replied.
Maria rang a little bell and the three of them sat and waited.
‘So, how are you?’ Maria eventually asked Militza. ‘And how are your children?’
‘Marina is fifteen now and at the Smolny Institute and Nadejda, who is eight, is to start next year. Roman is a handful, but then he is ten.’
‘Wasn’t he unwell recently? A fit, I heard?’ enquired Maria, her head cocked to one side with overt concern.
‘He’s fine,’ Militza said lightly.
‘No doubt cured by your friend? Rasputin,’ Maria mused. ‘Such a strange name for a man of God.’
‘Grigory Yefimovich was very helpful.’
‘Little Alexei adores him!’ added Anna, beaming. ‘He only has to lay eyes on him and he starts to smile and clap his hands and say: “Novy, Novy, Novy.” He can’t wait for him to come and see him.’
‘When Stana and I are there, we can see the little Tsarevich just adores him,’ agreed Militza, looking at the woman, trying to work out her agenda.
‘But he is amazing, isn’t he?’ Anna continued enthusiastically. ‘Only the other day Rasputin was talking to the Tsarina and then he suddenly interrupted himself saying “He’s in the blue room” and they both rushed to the blue billiard room where they found Alexei standing on the table. Rasputin grabbed him off the table only seconds before a huge chandelier fell from the ceiling, crashing on the exact spot where Alexei had been standing! It was extraordinary.’ Her eyes grew still rounder. ‘If he hadn’t been there, honestly, the boy would be dead! Rasputin quite literally saved his life. The Tsarina was so grateful – we are all so, so grateful. The whole of Russia is grateful.’
‘Very grateful,’ agreed Maria.
‘What a story!’ exclaimed Militza.
‘Isn’t it?’
A pair of butlers arrived with a couple of heavy salvers loaded with fine bone china, a hot teapot, slices of lemon, lumps of sugar and two tiered platters groaning with delicate cakes. Maria acknowledged them with a nod and dismissed them with a wave of her hand.
‘Tea a l’Anglaise,’ she said, picking up a gilt handled pot. ‘Shall I pour?’
The three women sat in silence as the Grand Duchess served the steaming hot tea and, with a rattle of fine porcelain, handed them each a cup.
‘I wonder why my sister didn’t tell me?’ Militza looked at Anna. ‘The story?’
‘She wasn’t there,’ replied Anna, eyeing the plate of cakes in front of her.
‘Rasputin was on his own?’ Militza enquired as lightly as she could.
‘Oh yes,’ replied Anna, picking the largest of the cakes. ‘He does that quite often, particularly at bedtime. He comes to see the girlies, says goodnight to them in their bedroom and then he talks to the Tsarina and the Tsar, looking in on the Tsarevich.’
Maria could hardly contain her delight as she glanced across at Militza. Had this been the purpose of her tea? Militza was dying to ask more questions. How? When? How dare he! What’s he talking to the royal couple about? Without her!
‘He is very fond of the children,’ concurred Militza.
‘Yes,’ agreed Anna, nodding away. ‘Or so I have heard. I haven’t actually met the man myself.’
‘You haven’t?’ asked Maria.
‘None of us have.’
‘But, you just said—’ queried Militza.
‘Not that it stops us from talking about him!’ Anna giggled, again.
‘Tell me,’ enquired Maria, leaning forward a little conspiratorially and changing tack. ‘Now, I am sure you’d know this, Militza, but is Nikolasha terribly like his father? One can’t help but wonder. Does he suffer from the same needs? Does he have the same proclivities? His father was famously keen on the ladies,’ she said, nodding towards Anna, who was slowly working her way through her cake. ‘In fact, he was rather well known for loving all women, expect for his wife!’ Anna’s mouth moved slowly as she looked from one woman to the other, her small eyes glowing with interest. ‘Poor woman went mad. Ran away to Kiev and locked herself in a nunnery!’ Maria took a sip of fortifying tea before she went on. ‘So,’ she turned to Militza, ‘is he the same?’
‘Is who the same?’
‘Nikolasha?’
‘I am not sure if I know what you mean?’
‘He’s inherited his father’s height, that’s for sure. But does he have a keen eye for the ladies?’
‘Nikolasha is not married.’
‘Yes, I know. But we are amongst friends, close friends…’ Militza, still reeling from the previous conversation, didn’t quite understand what the Grand Duchess was getting at. ‘Is he serious, or is he the sort of man who likes to go to the “gypsies”?’
‘The gypsies?’ Militza looked confused. ‘I don’t think he is a man who enjoys dancing.’
‘He is very well acquainted with your sister, is he not?’ asked Anna with the direct manner of the guileless. ‘They are always mentioned together when people speak about them in court. When I first arrived – you won’t believe this – I thought they were actually married.’ She laughed.
Maria took a sip of her tea. ‘Anastasia is, in fact, married to George Maximilianovich, Duke of Leuchtenberg.’
‘Oh, I am not sure if I have seen him at court?’
‘He spends most of his time in Biarritz.’
‘So they are just friends? I can’t believe I was so foolish! But they are quite a couple, aren’t they? Him heading up the army and she – and indeed you – so close to the Tsarina.’ Anna giggled. ‘What a fool I am! But you know, when you don’t know who everyone is and you are trying to work out who is who and what is what…’
‘It is an easy mistake to make,’ said Maria. ‘But I also think it is so wonderful that two brothers and two sisters get on so terribly well together.’ She paused. ‘Don’t you, Militza?’