Author Topic: Just for fun - Christmas 1916 at the Anglo-Russian Hospital  (Read 57116 times)

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Offline Kalafrana

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Re: Just for fun - Christmas 1916 at the Anglo-Russian Hospital
« Reply #180 on: January 02, 2013, 03:12:46 PM »
Major Finch turned to Kate and offered his arm. ‘Are you ready?’ Behind them Otty had hold of Mashka’s hand.
She was suddenly nervous. ‘It seems strange to see a doctor with a sword,’ she remarked to distract herself.
‘Worn by RAMC officers, but never drawn,’ Major Finch explained.

Still a dream as she heard the familiar words of the marriage service, Dolgoruky’s voice and then her own making the vows, I, Katharine, take thee, Alexander…, the ring being placed on her finger. How many weddings most her father have celebrated, using the same service, and old Mr Portman wheezing away on the organ? For a moment she missed her family exceedingly. If things had been different her father would have married her in the church at home, and Richard been there to give her away. But, she told herself, if things had been different she would never have come to Russia and she would not be marrying Sandor Dolgoruky.

Though Aunt Maria had told Kate that the wedding of a Prince Dolgoruky was an important event in Petrograd society, she had not quite appreciated it until the party emerged from the Embassy chapel. ‘In normal times the Tsar and Empress would attend, and this would be the wedding of the year.’ Despite the Imperial Army Order prescribing service dress and field uniform, all the Russian guests had donned their peacetime finery, the cold winter air faintly flavoured with mothballs. Kate took a moment to recognise the approaching Wagnerian figure in white uniform with eagle-crested helmet under his arm. 
‘If this were a parade rather than a wedding Cousin Valya would be wearing a cuirass and look even more like something out of Lohengrin,’ Dolgoruky told her.
Cousin Valya lowered his voice discreetly. ‘Nicholas Alexandrovich has asked me to tell you how disappointed he is that he is unable to be here today. He wishes you both a lifetime of happiness.’
Dolgoruky hesitated for a moment to find the words. ‘Please inform Nicholas Alexandrovich that we are greatly honoured.’

Then there were Dolgoruky’s uncles; Prince Vladimir, a Major-General of the Life Guard Hussars, on leave from commanding a division at the Front, and Prince Nikolai  from the Russian Foreign Office. There were Colonel Schubert and Madame Schubert (saying that everything was safely organised at the barracks and the Officers’ Mess Warrant Officer in charge), the Commandant of the Glorious School, General Tatischeff, and Aunt Elena garbed in mauve, with lorgnette and ebony cane, and an even more ancient companion.

‘Unfortunately,’ Aunt Maria had told Kate some days earlier, ‘It has been quite impossible to avoid inviting Cousin Yuri Denisovich.’
‘Cousin Yuri Denisovich is the most boorish man in Petersburg,’ said Dolgoruky. ‘And his duties at the Stavka are so light as to be non-existent. He is not even called upon to play cards.’
‘My brother Nikolai has kindly agreed to keep an eye on him,’ Aunt Maria went on. ‘And dear Cousin Mstislav.‘
Cousin Yuri Denisovich was florid and broken-veined, bulging out of his Uhlan uniform.
‘Ah, Sandor, I’ve taken a fortnight’s leave specially for this. How could I miss the wedding of my favourite cousin and such a delightful young lady?’ Kate was aware that he was standing just slightly too close to her, and his breath was alcoholic.
‘Is Olga Vladimirovna not able to be with you?’ inquired Uncle Nikolai in an attempt to divert the conversation.
‘Wretched woman’s ill again. I don’t know what it is about her. One headache after another! And the girls as well. Make sure this girl gives you some healthy boys, Sandor!’ He gave Dolgoruky a knowing nudge.
Uncle Nikolai steered Cousin Yuri away, uttering platitudes about the fragility of his womenfolk, leaving Kate to concentrate on Mr Gibson, one of the very few men in civilian clothes.

The ladies had done their best, with their finest jewellery and furs, but even Aunt Maria admitted that they were quite outshone by the men. The British Embassy also turned out in full fig – the ambassador, Sir George Buchanan, with Lady Buchanan and their daughter Meriel, and Colonel Bridger, in blues with frock coat. There were Sir Samuel Hoare and Lady Hoare, and Desmond Beresford and others among Sir Samuel’s chaps – Kate’s head began to spin with the effort of remembering who everybody was.

Anton had organised a special train to take all the guests to Tsarskoye-Selo, but after lunch at the Embassy the wedding party went in Anton’s car. First to the barracks, where an open landau was waiting for Kate, along with Major Finch, Otty and Anton (Mashka had been taken home by Varvara). By regimental tradition an officer of the Life Guard Hussars who married at the Church of Holy Wisdom rode his charger from the barracks at the head of the escort that accompanied his bride’s carriage. ‘Nicholas Alexandrovich did not, unfortunately, as he got married in the chapel of the Winter Palace,’ Colonel Schubert had told Kate, ‘But Sandor is marrying here, and we have a surprise for him.’

There was Wilhelm, led out by Trooper Berdeyev, immaculately groomed, white points dusted with chalk, hoofs oiled, a deep sheen on his tack from much polishing, and wearing a Rittmeister’s full-dress shabraque for the occasion.  There was a slight delay while Dolgoruky gave Berdeyev the triple kiss, explained to Kate once again that it was  Berdeyev who got him to the dressing station after he was wounded, made much of Wilhelm and talked to him in German, and Kate had to meet him and feed him a carrot.
‘He’s the wrong bloody colour!’ announced Cousin Yuri Denisovich, who had made a reappearance, instead of going straight to the church with the other guests. ‘You lot are supposed to ride greys.’
‘He’s a prize of war! The colour doesn’t matter!’ retorted Dolgoruky, before taking the reins in his teeth to put his foot in the stirrup, then swinging easily up into the saddle.

Another surprise when they arrived at the church, as there to meet them were Troop Sergeant-Major Tushin, Sergeant Derevenko, and Corporal Tomashevsky  like Trooper Berdeyev straight from the Front and whom Dolgoruky had last seen the day he was wounded. Sergeant Derevenko and Corporal Tomashevsky stepped forward with the pair of icons that a Russian bride and groom were presented on their wedding day, and which were held before them during the service.
‘From the squadron, your Illustriousness.’
‘We couldn’t let the Prince get married without some of us there, at least.’
Kate saw tears in Dolgoruky’s eyes, and it was several minutes before the procession could form up to go into the church.

In Russian tradition the two icons were held in front of the bride and groom during the service, normally by children, but in the Life Guard Hussars by men of the regiment.




Offline Kalafrana

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Re: Just for fun - Christmas 1916 at the Anglo-Russian Hospital
« Reply #181 on: January 02, 2013, 03:14:05 PM »
Father Konstantin had taken them through the Orthodox wedding service previously, but nevertheless it seemed strange and foreign to Kate, with  all the magnificence of the singing, the candles and incense, and the splendid vestments of the clergy. First there was the matter of the wedding rings – the bridegroom’s gold and the bride’s silver, which were blessed by Father Sergei from the hospital, who was conducting this part of the service, and sprinkled with holy water  before he made the sign of the cross with the rings over each of their heads in turn. Then Kate’s  ring went first onto Dolgoruky’s hand and then onto her own, and his onto her hand and then onto his, and the two went back and forth three times in all in honour of the Holy Trinity. They had practised this, but Kate remembered uneasily that Levin had muddled the whole business in Anna Karenina.

They moved on into the main part of the church for the central part of the service, with Anton and Major Finch holding crowns over their heads and Sergeant Derevenko and Corporal Tomashevsky the icons in front of them – Christ the Saviour for Dolgoruky and the Virgin Mother of God for Kate. At length the crowns were placed on their heads, they  drank three times from a cup of  consecrated wine, and Father Sergei and Father Anton the regimental chaplain led them three times round the table in the centre of the church which bore the Gospel and the Cross while the choir sang the anthem, Rejoice O Isaiah.

As Kate knew well, the next piece of the ceremony was always considered by the congregation to be the most important part of any wedding service. A piece of pink silk was put on the floor of the church and everyone watched closely to see who stepped onto it first, as that would be the person who gave the orders in the marriage. Kate and Dolgoruky were arm-in-arm, and she was aware of him first inching a little ahead, then dropping back, glanced briefly at him to confirm that he was smiling, then they were stepping on the silk together, to a sigh of approval from the congregation.

From the church Kate and Dolgoruky went to Colonel Schubert’s house in the barracks, where he and Madame Schubert provided the opportunity to refresh themselves before the reception. Then Mr Denslow took the photographs in the entrance hall of the Officers’ Mess.

So far, all had gone smoothly, and Dolgoruky looked forward to an enjoyable wedding breakfast. At the reception Aunt Maria (who arranged the seating plan as well as the invitations) placed Count Yuri Denisovich well away from any sensitive ladies, between Uncle Nikolai and Cousin Mstislav, a Major-General in Yuri Denisovich’s regiment and well used to keeping him in order. (‘Poor Cousin Mstislav,’ lamented Anton. ‘Never able to enjoy a party because he’s always stuck with Cousin Yuri.’) Close by were Great Aunt Elena (‘A mistress of the withering glance.’), Andrei Mikhailovich, Sergei Platonovich and Ivan Ivanovich (Kirill Vladimirovich was still in traction).

At a Russian wedding reception, when the wine was first poured out, the guests complained that the wine was bitter by chanting ‘Gorko, gorko!’, so calling upon the bride and groom to kiss away the bitterness of the wine. The longer the pair could kiss, the more delicious the wine will be.
‘Kate, I know the daughters of clergymen do not kiss even their husbands in public, but I am a hussar and we always behave in a scandalous fashion.’ Dolgoruky flung his arm round her and leaned over to kiss her, just as Kate began to giggle – out of the corner of her eye she had seen Anton produce a stopwatch from his pocket.
‘Gorko, gorko!’
They began to kiss.
‘One!’
‘Two!’
Anton concentrated on his stopwatch. ‘Fifteen seconds.’
‘Gorko! Gorko!’
‘You two are supposed to be in love! You can do better than that!’ shouted Uncle Vladimir.
Glasses of now sweet wine were drained, and flung over shoulders in the traditional fashion. Then Uncle Vladimir stood up to propose the toast to the bride and groom in place of Dolgoruky’s father.

‘Though I have known Sandor all his life – when I received him from the font he did his level best to wriggle out of my clutches, and has seldom kept still since – I have only just had the great pleasure of meeting Kate. I had therefore to ask my sister to brief me.’ Laughter from all those who knew and esteemed Aunt Maria. ‘What can I say about this young lady? She is charming, she is beautiful, she is capable, and, above all, it is perfectly clear to anyone who spends a single moment in their company that she and Sandor are quite hopelessly in love.’ More laughter.  ‘So what else can they do but get married – twice! Yes, one wedding was not enough for them, they must have two. I therefore ask you to raise your glasses and join me in drinking a toast to Sandor and Kate. May they have a long and happy life together, and many splendid children.’

Though Madame Schubert had retired from professional opera a good many years ago, it had become  a tradition that she would sing Voi qui sapete from The Marriage of Figaro at regimental weddings. Her favourite role in her younger days had been Cherubino, and though she no longer had the figure to make a convincing callow youth, still she sang most movingly of the strangeness and delight of new-found love.

When Madame Schubert sat down, the dancing began. Tradition demanded that the bride and groom danced the first dance by themselves. A waltz was usual (the waltz from Eugene Onegin was particularly favoured, especially since the outbreak of war), but Dolgoruky knew full well that a czardas would be expected from him, and he had spent time over Christmas teaching Kate. The bandmaster stepped forward, violin in hand and a grin on his face.   
Dolgoruky made a show of reluctance. ‘Bandmaster, the czardas is an enemy dance.’
‘But your Illustriousness has made it a regimental dance!’
Without further ado the bandmaster settled the violin under his chin and began to play – happily Vittorio Monti was an Italian and so an ally.

After this first dance, the guests called for Eugene Onegin anyway, ‘Two weddings, two dances!’ but then the dancing became general, beginning with a polonaise for everybody through the public rooms of the mess, but there were various people with whom the bride and groom should dance. In the absence of his own mother and Mrs Brazier, Dolgoruky danced with Aunt Maria and Matron, not to mention Aunt Elena, Irina, Lady Ottoline, Lady Buchanan and Meriel Buchanan. In place of their respective fathers, Kate danced by turns with the Dolgoruky uncles, Major Finch, Anton, Cousin Valya, Colonel Appleby, Sir George Buchanan, Colonel Bridger and Colonel Schubert, then with Andrei Mikhailovich, Sergei Platonovich and Ivan Ivanovich.


Offline Kalafrana

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Re: Just for fun - Christmas 1916 at the Anglo-Russian Hospital
« Reply #182 on: January 02, 2013, 03:15:15 PM »
Cousin Yuri Denisovich decided that he should also dance with the bride. ‘I’m Sandor’s cousin,’ he belched, lumbering to his feet and reaching for Kate’s arm as Uncle Nikolai escorted her off the dance floor. ‘Not like these fellows.’

Despite the best efforts of Uncle Nikolai and Cousin Mstislav to divert him onto other topics,  and some splendidly withering stares from Great Aunt Elena, along with pointed remarks in French, Yuri Denisovich had spent most of his time at the table railing against the British war effort. Hearing snatches of Major Finch’s reminiscences of the South African War, he observed that the British had taken three years to defeat a lot of Dutch farmers but were not contributing anything like the same resources to defeating the Germans - if they were, then the war would have long been over by now. Uncle Nikolai reminded him that the British were currently fighting not only the Germans but the Turks and Bulgarians, and had well over a million men committed to the Western Front, as well as large numbers in Mesopotamia and Salonika. This was not enough for Count Yuri Denisovich, who in between cursing various mess waiters for dilatoriness in refilling his glass and casting doubt on the vintages in the regimental wine cellar, declared the British Army to be cowards, and the Royal Navy, in the aftermath of the Battle of Jutland, yet worse. ‘They should have pursued the Germans all the way to their harbours. Instead they turned round and went home! Not like us at Tshushima!’ he declared, banging his fist on the table, causing a side plate to leap off it and smash on the floor. A mess waiter hastened up, precipitating another flow of invective.

As Yuri Denisovich leered at Kate, Colonel Bridger called Major Finch over.
‘Now, Finch,’ said Colonel Bridger, ‘Does your medical training lead you to suppose that Count Yuri Denisovich is in need of some fresh air?’
‘My medical training, and my experience of attending mess functions, Colonel, lead me to suppose that Count Yuri Denisovich is in urgent need not only of some fresh air but a few hours of bed rest.’
Colonel Bridger grinned. ‘Come on then.’
Each grasped an arm.
‘Excuse us one moment, while we forestall what might become an unfortunate  diplomatic incident,’ said Cousin Mstislav to the neighbouring guests. ‘Nikolai, be a good fellow and look after the young lady a little longer. And for heaven’s sake get Sandor out of the way before he calls Yuri out.’
Count Yuri Denisovich realised what was happening and began to protest. ‘Can’ go yet. Can’ go ‘til I’ve danced with the bride. The lovely bride.The lovely bride who’sh marrying Cousin Sandor. Can’ think why, when he’sh only got one arm.’
 ‘No, Count Yuri, you’re not going that way.’ Colonel Bridger applied an arm lock with an expertise which suggested that he had done such things before.
‘Musht kish the bride.’
Very firmly, Colonel Bridger yanked the arm he was holding upwards, at which point Count Yuri decided he would not kiss the bride after all.

The Mess Warrant Officer had seen what was happening and followed the party out of the dining room.
‘Ah, Sergeant-Major Yerimenko,’ said Cousin Mstislav, who had been a guest in the mess on previous occasions. ‘Poor Count Ignatiev has been taken ill. He loves oysters and whenever they are on the menu he cannot resist them, even though they always disagree with him. This good English doctor says he will be completely recovered in a few hours, but he must go straight to bed and stay there. We’ll take him up, but would you be so kind as to keep an eye on him?’
‘Glad to do it, your Excellency.’
‘Now, Sergeant-Major Yerimenko,’ Cousin Mstislav continued in confidential tones, ‘It’s most important that Count Ignatiev should have absolute rest and quiet. The problem is that in an hour or so he will feel better and want to go back to the reception, which is bound to trigger a serious relapse. You may find it necessary to lock him in his room. I’m quite sure you understand what I mean.’
‘I do indeed, your Excellency.’ Sergeant-Major Yerimenko had been Mess Warrant Officer for several years, and was quite used to dealing discreetly with officers who had over-indulged.
‘Of course, if there are any difficulties, you must report them to me immediately.’
‘Of course, your Excellency.’
‘And naturally we can rely on your discretion.’
‘Naturally, your Excellency.’ The Mess Warrant Officer tapped the side of his nose.

First Dolgoruky and then Colonel Schubert hastened up, to find that matters had already been taken care of.
‘And now my duty is done, and Cousin Yuri has been safely consigned to the care of your excellent Mess Warrant Officer,’ said Cousin Mstislav, smiling, ‘May I have the honour of a dance with the bride?’ He was almost a head shorter than Dolgoruky, but wiry in build, and cut a dapper figure. It was something of a family joke that he carried a torch for Aunt Maria since they had both been widowed.

Though Count Yuri Denisovich was safely upstairs behind a locked door (Dolgoruky could not have borne his hands pawing her as he held her much too close in the waltz, and a challenge would certainly have ensued), Bobrinsky declared that only a dance with Kate would help mend his broken heart, and could not resist the temptation to flirt. Dolgoruky had a slightly awkward dance with his cousin Anastasia, who was there with her parents; though her schoolgirl crush had not survived his loss of an arm, still his marriage to Kate was final confirmation that her old dream of marrying him was not to be. It became a noisy, lively and joyous occasion, with not just one mazurka, but three, the floor sufficiently crowded for various ladies to be forced to retire to the powder room to repair the damage the gentlemen’s spurs had caused to their hems. The bandmaster and his men excelled themselves, moving between military band, string orchestra and gypsy ensemble as the mood took them. Toast succeeded toast, each involving a glass of vodka tossed back; the parents of the bride and groom (this became a tribute to Aunt Maria), the Life Guard Hussars, the Anglo-Russian Hospital, the Russian war effort, the British war effort, confusion to the Kaiser.

Offline Kalafrana

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Re: Just for fun - Christmas 1916 at the Anglo-Russian Hospital
« Reply #183 on: January 02, 2013, 03:17:10 PM »
The cake was a triumph. Not only had three bottles of brandy gone into the mixture, but one of the British Embassy chefs was a master of cake icing. Each of the three tiers was a smooth surface of the purest white, decorated with the regimental badge and the hospital badge on top, and the bride and groom’s respective coats of arms alternating round the sides – Dolgoruky’s was a complex quartered affair which included the Archangel Michael and an armoured arm emerging from a cloud, and so taxed the chef’s skills far more than Kate’s. ‘It’s an English tradition,’ said Lady Buchanan, ‘That the top tier is kept to become the christening cake for the first child.’ Kate went rather pink.

At some stage Major Finch decided that he was going to emulate Madame Schubert. ‘If it were a Russian nurse marrying an Englishman, that Russian girl would now be British,’ he declared. ‘Because it is an English girl marrying a Russian man, this hasn’t happened. However, Sandor, you are now one of us!’ He threw an arm round Dolgoruky and launched into For He Is an English Man, which the band soon picked up, and first Colonel Bridger and then the rest of the British guests joined in. Continuing with the British theme, the band then struck up Tipperary, and all the guests, Russian as well as British, joined in (recordings and sheet music for Tipperary had reached Russia by Christmas 1914 and it was a song that everyone knew). Then the Russians  had to teach the British their regimental song, and those who did not know it already the Glory chorus from A Life For The Tsar.

Finally it was time for Kate and Dolgoruky to depart, although the reception would continue without them for some time yet, at least until the last train of the night left for Petrograd. First they were called upon for another dance. By this time the bandmaster had ceased to be concerned about enemy dances or composers and selected the younger Strauss’s Eljen a Magyar (Dolgoruky’s mess nickname was ‘the Magyar’). ‘We haven’t practised this!’ But Kate need not have worried; she had danced the polka schnell a good many times at the hospital dances, and no one was going to criticise her technique now. Kate had her final dance with the bandmaster in thanks for his efforts and those of his men (there was also a cheque Dolgoruky had earlier given Colonel Schubert for the Band Fund), and Dolgoruky had his with Madame Schubert. There were toasts to the Tsar and to King George V. The band played the Life Guard Hussars regimental march and Here’s a Health Unto His Majesty for the RAMC (the bandmaster had done his homework). Finally, the band laid down their instruments, stood up and sang the regimental hymn.

Again the Schuberts had put their house at the disposal of Kate and Dolgoruky, this time to change into normal uniform and prepare for the journey by troika to the dacha. Madame Schubert escorted Kate and Aunt Maria upstairs to a bedroom. Suddenly Kate was very tired, and quite happy to take off her shoes and sit on the stool in front of the dressing table while Madame Schubert’s maid unpinned the tiara and went down her back with a button hook. Just as the dressing process had got as far as the blouse and skirt of Kate’s VAD uniform,  the door opened and Dolgoruky walked in, still wearing the magnificent breeches and boots, but now in his service dress tunic.
‘Sandor!’
‘I have come to see my wife. Now we are married – twice over – surely I can talk to her while she is dressing?’
‘But you should knock first!’ insisted Aunt Maria.
‘My poor Vassili would never walk in on me unannounced,’ replied Dolgoruky in a falsetto contralto.
‘Sandor, you are a dreadful boy. I can only pray that marriage will improve you.’ But Aunt Maria was smiling.

Colonel Schubert had provided a troika, and Roughriding Sergeant  Sikorski to take the reins. Though it had been dull and overcast for most of the day, the sky had now cleared and the stars were out. Fresh snow had fallen, and the troika ran smoothly over it, quite silently except for the thudding of the horses’ hoofs and the occasional word from Sergeant Sikorski to his team.

‘Isn’t it a beautiful night.’
Kate rested against Dolgoruky, her hand in his, both covered in fur rugs so that only their faces were exposed to the keen air. All around was white, apart from the darkness of the sky, the branches of the birch trees on either side where they were not covered with snow.
‘It cannot be more beautiful than you.’
‘Oh Sandor, you’re worse than Bobrinsky.’

Offline Kalafrana

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Re: Just for fun - Christmas 1916 at the Anglo-Russian Hospital
« Reply #184 on: January 02, 2013, 03:19:59 PM »
‘How is Bobrinsky’s broken heart?’
‘He says he’ll never recover. But I think he will.’
‘I’m quite sure he will. But is Lady Ottoline the true object or his affections, or Matron?’
‘Bobrinsky treats love lightly.’
‘So did I until I met you, Princess Dolgorukaya.’
‘Princess? It seems strange. Lots of little girls dream of being princesses, but I never did.’ She thought for a moment. ‘How old were you when you realised that you were a prince?’
‘I’ve never not known. Kirill and the other servants always called me Prince Alexander Alexandrovich, even when I was very small.’
‘Prince Vassili Antonovich is asking to be fed!’
‘But in those days I thought everyone was a prince or princess! Just about everyone we knew was. One or two were counts or countesses, but not many. In just the same way that I thought my father had run all the way to Monte Carlo. But you’ve no need to worry about that. You’re my princess, and that’s all that matters.’
She smiled, and squeezed his hand. Ahead the dacha appeared, on its slight rise, a little light from within peering around the shutters. Dolgoruky had been with Kate all day, but among people all that time and on display. He wanted to be alone with her, to shut out the rest of the world for as long as they  could.
They  had a week; that was why they  had decided in the end to go no further than the dacha. ‘We’ll visit the house in Moscow and all my estates once the war’s over.’
‘I love the way you say “all my estates”.’
‘Surely there are noblemen in England who have many estates? All those Dukes you have with their grouse moors. And when the war’s over we shall go to Hinton Waldrist to see your mother, and have tea with your sister in Cheltenham. With cucumber sandwiches.’
‘Why are cucumber sandwiches thought to be so thoroughly English?’
‘Why is caviar thought to be so thoroughly Russian? Do you know, I’ve never been all that fond of caviar? Or oysters.’
‘Prince, you disappoint me.’
‘I’d rather eat a good shashlik, or one of Lydia’s stews. It must be my Hungarian blood, though one of Aunt Maria’s friends always says that she has no interest in any caviar but the most expensive Beluga.’

The troika drew up outside the dacha and immediately the door opened, shedding a rectangle of yellow lamp light over the snow. There stood Pyotr and Lydia, with the traditional bread and salt. They had both been in the church at Tsarskoye-Selo, but come back here to make ready the dacha instead of attending the reception.
‘Come inside! It’s too cold to stay on the doorstep!’
They went in, and Kate felt the warmth from the stove. Dolgoruky beckoned to the Roughriding Sergeant to follow. ‘A drink before you go, Sergeant Sikorski.’
‘My thanks to your Illustriousness.’
Pyotr produced vodka and a glass for him, they stood talking for a few minutes, then Sergeant Sikorski, bashful away from his own ground, said he had better be getting back. ‘Don’t want to keep the horses out any later, your Illustriousness. And I’m in the riding school with the recruits again first thing.’ Next day was Monday, and the training squadron would be working again after Christmas leave. He saluted, then turned to Kate. ‘Goodnight, Princess.’

In the room where Anton and Irina normally slept a fire burned and a bottle of champagne and two glasses were waiting.
‘Gosh, I’m tired,’ Kate said. ‘I could go straight to sleep.’
‘It’s our wedding night.’
‘I could, but I won’t.’
‘Some champagne?’ Dolgoruky had kept his sabre with him. Now he drew it and struck the top off the bottle, which had been outside long enough for the contents to be nicely chilled.

‘I love you.’ He ran his hand down the back of her uniform  dress. ‘It may make a little time to unfasten all those buttons.’
‘There’s a button hook in my bag. I made sure I put one in.’
‘Ah, Nurse Brazier, practical as always. Better than having to send for Lydia. But no longer Nurse Brazier, now Princess Alexander Dolgorukaya.’ He got to work on the line of buttons, not waiting for the button hook. ‘Are you now going to become a Petersburg lady, reclining on a chaise longue, and interested only in clothes and society gossip?’
‘Your aunt’s not like that. Neither is Irina.’
‘And they are both princesses twice over, once by birth and once by marriage. Instead of trifles you will occupy yourself with worthy causes. Are you going to take up knitting?’

They sipped the champagne, and slowly undressed one another. The firelight played over their bodies.
‘You’re beautiful,’ he told Kate yet again, pulled the pins out of her hair so that it descended over her shoulders. Her hand moved to the buttons of his breeches. ‘This hussar is no longer a recruit.’
‘We’re married now.’
‘Twice. And you’ve been getting advice from Lady Ottoline again.’
‘She did say that what a husband and wife do in the bedroom is something only they know about, so it doesn’t matter what they do, as long as it makes them both happy.’
‘And as long as they don’t do it in the street and frighten the horses.’
‘That wasn’t Otty. That was Mrs Patrick Campbell.’
‘We could go outside, now that Sergeant Sikorski’s gone off with the horses.’
‘It’s far too cold outside! We’re much better off here.’ She began to unfasten the buttons. ‘Good heavens! You haven’t got anything on underneath!’
‘That’s what the Empress must have said to the Tsar on their wedding night. And every Life Guard Hussars bride. If these fit properly there’s no room for anything underneath.’
‘What happens if you put on weight?’
‘You join another regiment, so as not to be unsightly in full dress. But there’s no room for what’s there now.’ Dolgoruky had been hard now for some minutes, and inside the close-fitting breeches the hardness was uncomfortable.
‘I know. Where’s that sabre, in case I need to cut them off you?’
‘I hope you mean the breeches. The British have cut quite enough off me already.’

Offline edubs31

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Re: Just for fun - Christmas 1916 at the Anglo-Russian Hospital
« Reply #185 on: January 05, 2013, 10:56:15 AM »
Great stuff Ann! I can't wait to hear more drama and the inevitable twists and turns, but this was lovely :-)
Once in a while you get shown the light, in the strangest of places if you look at it right...

Offline Kalafrana

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Re: Just for fun - Christmas 1916 at the Anglo-Russian Hospital
« Reply #186 on: January 05, 2013, 11:04:48 AM »
Thank you. This is the epilogue. In between times we have had the death of Rasputin, Dolgoruky, Yussupov and Dimitri in close arrest and Kate having an attack of doubt about marrying Dolgoruky.

Ann