only a lovely but talented young woman. King Darius is to be commended.’
‘Indeed. Your own English is flawless, your Excellency. Are you perhaps musical as well?’
He smiled.
‘I was sent to an English school at a young age. As a younger son I was marked for a diplomatic life at birth.’
‘Ah.’
‘Yes, “ah”! I know the English quite well, which has proven useful over the years. They remind me of the Baltic Sea in winter—this perfect cover of ice, sparkling when the sun shines on it, that is your peoples’ dry wit, and underneath a chaos of currents that is the real moving force of everything. My father would take me fishing on the ice—the servants chop a hole through the deep cover and we cast our lines into the depths. I remember thinking as a boy that the water beneath looked like the twisting of souls in hell, viscous and luminescent.’
Christina smiled at the descent into the darkly poetic, so typical of the Russians she had met in the King’s court. She could not determine if he was merely making conversation or in search of something. Whatever the case, she was grateful for the distraction.
‘That is a wondrous image, your Excellency, but I am not certain I find it complimentary to have my people compared to an ice-bound hellish chaos whose only redeeming feature is their dry wit.’
His smile widened.
‘I say this with the greatest admiration, Miss James. The English capacity for self-restraint is legend. Take our friend here...’ He lowered his voice and glanced down the table at Alex. ‘You would not guess from seeing him today he was the same man I knew five years ago. That was when he was still engaged in the dubious activities many of us were forced to entertain both before and after Napoleon dragged the Continent into such chaos. Those were very different times. Now we have all become sadly respectable. And older.’ He sighed and patted his receding hairline. ‘But then we were young and rash and a challenge was a challenge.’
‘A challenge?’
He focused back on her, a touch of malice in his dark eyes. ‘Women do love the scent of a duello, don’t they? Hard to believe it of our respectable Lord Stanton, but as I said we were all rather more fiery in those days, him more than most. But he is precisely an example of what I spoke of. The moment the balance between chaos and ice was upset, ice won and chaos was banished and the result is our very esteemed Lord Stanton, rising star of the Foreign Office. Had you told me of this development six or seven years ago I would have toasted your fertile imagination. As it is it reinforces my conviction that we Russians could use a little more ice and a little less chaos. As for wit, we have our own brand, but mostly we have our poetry. And our vodka.’ He glanced mournfully at his wine glass.
‘Don’t worry, you will have your vodka, Dimitri Dimitrovich; though you don’t appear to need its aid to sink into maudlin reminiscences.’
They both turned to Alex and Christina hoped the candlelight disguised her flush. Razumov didn’t appear to share her embarrassment at being caught gossiping about their host, nor did Alex appear bothered about continuing the King’s breach of form by addressing them across Princess Ariadne.
‘Ah, but vodka makes them so much more palatable, for me at least.’ Razumov replied. ‘I am afraid Miss James’s charm is just as effective to that end as the finest vodka.’
Alex’s mouth quirked up at one end, but the same faint question was in his eyes as they settled back on Christina.
‘Slowly. Miss James isn’t familiar with your particular style of...diplomacy.’
‘I presume it is like most diplomacy, a shiny veneer with an agenda beneath it,’ Christina replied. It was a little too honest a reply and she smiled at Razumov to take the sting out of it.
‘You have a low opinion of diplomats, then, Miss James?’ Alex asked.
‘Not at all. It requires talent to keep veneer and agenda untangled; I am all admiration for those who do it well. We meet a great many diplomats at court, don’t we, Princess Ariadne?’
‘Oh, yes,’ Ari said. ‘There are always statesmen coming to see Papa and he insists we be present for most important meetings. After all, I shall be Queen one day and it is important I understand how to be a good ruler.’
‘I am convinced you will be, your Highness.’
Ari returned Alex’s smile and Christina’s heart stuttered. Her mind was still stumbling over Razumov’s words and what they revealed about Alex and she did not need to add jealousy to the mix, especially not of Ari.
‘I will certainly try. Father said one key is finding people you trust and listening especially hard when they disagree with you.’ Ari’s expression sank from seriousness into a grin. ‘Which means I listen especially hard to Tina.’
‘Unfair. I rarely disagree with you.’
‘But when you do, goodness!’
‘Miss James has a temper, then?’ Razumov asked, a little too hopefully.
‘Well, not like Papa. He can make the windows rattle. Tina merely has this look. Her eyebrows go up, just a little. It is terrifying. There, you see?’
Christina shook her head and picked up her wineglass, trying not to smile. It was impossible to be annoyed with Ari when she was so clearly enjoying herself, even at her expense.
‘Formidable.’
She met Alex’s gaze and again felt her stomach clench around a sensation she had not felt for many years.
Ari nodded. ‘Yes, that’s a better word. Formidable. I sometimes practise that look for when I shall be Queen. Shall I show you?’
Alex transferred his gaze to Ari and smiled.
‘Do. Let us see the formidable Queen Ariadne.’
‘Well?’
‘Well what? I’m waiting,’ he said, his eyes softening. Christina tried not to look because this was probably what it felt like to be kicked down a very long flight of stairs, one by one.
‘But that was it! See?’
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