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.