Page 14 of The Unseen
“You sound as if you sympathize with them.”
“I can understand their grievances, and think they should be addressed before this simmering cauldron of discontent boils over.”
“Could that really happen?”
“I would like to think not, but if it does, there aren’t enough regiments stationed in Petrograd to hold off a full-scale revolution.”
“You’re scaring me, Alyosha. If the situation is so dire, why is everyone pretending nothing is wrong?”
“Because that’s what they do best. They bury their heads in the sand, host balls and musical evenings, and spend a fortune on gowns and jewels. The Romanovs have been ruling Russia for three hundred years, so everyone believes everything will just go on as before. There have been periods of discontent and uprisings before now. Several attempts were made on the life of Alexander III, and even on our current Tsar, but the demonstrations were put down, the leaders executed, and opposition squashed. Life for the ruling classes went on largely undisturbed, much like right now. But this time things might be different.”
“Why?”
“Because they have numbers on their side, and they’re organizing and arming themselves. These are no longer ignorant serfs with axes and pitchforks, Valya. They have educated men to lead them and given the current situation, they don’t have much left to lose.”
“You could be arrested for such talk.” Valentina gasped. She’d never heard Alexei speak this way before, and the depth of his disillusionment shocked and frightened her.
“Yes, I could, but I trust you, and you asked me to be honest.”
Valentina nodded. She had asked him to be honest, but this wary, bitter side of Alexei made her see him in a whole new light. It was disturbing, but also reassuring. She didn’t want to be lied to or pacified with half-truths and false promises. She’d rather know the truth.
“Have you ever killed anyone?” Valentina asked. She suddenly realized that Alexei’s smart uniform wasn’t worn only to make him look handsome and dashing. He was an officer in the Imperial Army, trained to kill and sworn to defend Russia’s interests.
“This conversation has turned awfully grim, and I really must go. Please, don’t concern yourself, Valya. Hopefully, the warwill end soon. Once it does, the situation will change for the better.”
“Take care of yourself, Alyosha. For me.”
“For you,” he replied and kissed the tip of her nose. “I will see you at your birthday celebration, Valya.”
“Thank you for my present. I will wear it always.”
“I’ll buy you many necklaces once we are married,” Alexei promised as he bowed formally and took his leave.
“But I’ll still wear this one,” Valya whispered to his retreating back. She sat down on the settee and sighed miserably. Alexei was right, the conversation had turned grim. This was supposed to be a happy day in her life, and it was, but the revelations he’d shared with her left her feeling frightened and depressed. She’d been blithely going about her business, completely oblivious to what was happening right under her nose. In her defense, she clearly wasn’t the only one, but the reality was a lot scarier than she dared to admit. The Romanovs had ruled for three hundred years, and might rule for three hundred more, but what if this time, they couldn’t neutralize the threat?
Valentina got to her feet and headed for the door. Her parents would be waiting for her to report on her meeting with Alexei, and she was more than ready to share her happy news and shed this mantle of melancholy. She’d set aside the worrisome information he’d shared with her. There’d be plenty of time to think about it later. But as she crossed the silent corridor, an odd thought flashed through her mind.It’s not getting engaged that makes you a grown-up; it’s having the blinders removed from your eyes, allowing you to finally see the things that were hidden from you before.
SEVEN
DECEMBER 2014
London, England
Quinn set aside the necklace with a sigh of sadness. Russian history wasn’t her forte, but any historian worth their salt knew what had happened in Russia in 1917. At the time of Valentina’s engagement, Russia had been days away from the February Revolution—a name that caused some confusion for history novices, since it took place in February according the old Julian calendar used in Imperial Russia, but fell in March on the newer Gregorian calendar used in western nations. It was the first of two revolutions that changed the face of Russia forever, overthrowing the monarchy and installing a proletariat government headed by Vladimir Ilyich Lenin, a beloved revolutionary leader whose embalmed remains were still on display in a mausoleum in Red Square in Moscow to this day.
“Why so pensive?” Gabe asked as he came into the bedroom with a basket of clean laundry.
“I just met Valentina,” Quinn replied, pointing to the necklace lying on her nightstand.
“And?”
“And her life is about to be blown apart in ways she can’t even begin to imagine. She’s in Petrograd, on the eve of the Russian Revolution.”
“I gather she was an aristocrat?” No peasant or factory worker would own a Fabergé necklace, so Valentina’s status was obvious.
“Yes. She was a countess, or would have been had the monarchy not been toppled.”
“She came to England.” Gabe sat down next to Quinn and picked up the necklace. He held it in front of his face, letting it swing like a pendulum. “And she owned a house in Belgravia, which is one of the poshest neighborhoods in London. Things couldn’t have gone too badly for her.”
