Irina in Lev’s bold handwriting, so she handed it to Irina, and waited, leaving the rest aside, until Irina had ripped it open, tearing it a little in her haste, and began to read it aloud, passing over the opening and closing endearments for the moment.
‘We’ve fought a brisk action—wouldn’t call it a battle as only two Corps of Ours were engaged—at Maloyaroslavets, on the Kaluga road. It was Eugene’s Corps, trying to break through to the southern route back to Smolensk, we think. It was hard work while it lasted, but they were held long enough for the artillery to come up and bottle them up in the town, and now they’re returning by the road they came on, which means they’ll find nothing but the places they burned on their way into the country! You’ll remember that they burned Smolensk as well, so they won’t find much comfort there!
‘Have just heard that the Marshal is sending me west with dispatches for Admiral Chichagov, who’s come up from Turkey with an army and is to intercept the French somewhere between Smolensk and Vilna. Boris Kalinsky is coming with me—Tatya will explain who he is. Tell her I’ll take good care of him.”
‘That’s all,’ Irina finished, turning the single sheet of paper over and around in the hope of finding something more. ‘Who is Boris Kalinsky?’
‘My—my husband’s nephew.’ Tatya replied, with her usual hesitation over naming the late General. ‘He’s a charming fellow, but he’s barely eighteen, and only passed out of the Cadets in June. He’s ensign in Nikolai Volkhov’s regiment, so I can’t imagine why he’s serving on the Staff—oh, of course! Admiral Chichagov is his godfather!’
‘Why is an Admiral commanding an army?’ Irina enquired, which was something neither Tatya nor Nadya—and probably no one else except the Emperor and the Admiral—could explain. ‘If he’s going beyond Smolensk, he’ll be further away than ever,’ she commented. ‘Still, if he’s taking good care of your nephew, at least he’ll have to keep out of trouble himself. won’t he?’
She sounded uncertain, so both Tatya and Nadya made reassuring comments, and Tatya created a diversion by turning to the rest of the letters.
‘There’s one here for you!’ she exclaimed, holding out a folded and sealed sheet of once-white paper to Nadya. It looked as if it had been dropped in some mud and then trodden on.
‘For me?’ Nadya exclaimed, taking it. ‘Whoever can that be from?’
----
Chapter Five
The letter was sealed by a plain wafer, which gave no clue to the sender, and when she opened it and started to read she still did not realise what it was. It was dated from a hospital in Kaluga, and began with an extremely formal greeting, then continued with equal formality:
‘First, I must apologise that I cannot write in my own hand, but must ask Sasha Alexandrovich, who is visiting me, to be my amanuensis, as I have suffered a slight accident to my hands. As a result, I have nothing to do but lie here and think, and being in hospital with the sights and sounds of death constantly about me, my thoughts tend to linger on the errors of my past life, and I find myself increasingly worried about my behaviour towards you during our brief acquaintance.
‘To be frank, I did not believe your protest that you did not know why I had no wish to have anything to do with you, but I realise now that it is more than likely that you spoke the truth. In that case, my hostility must have been inexplicable to you, and probably added to the distress which you were already suffering.
‘Perhaps by now you have forgotten all about it, dismissed me from your mind as an ill-mannered boor, which is no more than I deserve, but I find I cannot forget. It preys on my mind that I was unjust and treated you in a manner which was cruel, considering the circumstances into which you had been thrown. I offer my humblest apologies although I fear you will not find it possible
‘We’ve fought a brisk action—wouldn’t call it a battle as only two Corps of Ours were engaged—at Maloyaroslavets, on the Kaluga road. It was Eugene’s Corps, trying to break through to the southern route back to Smolensk, we think. It was hard work while it lasted, but they were held long enough for the artillery to come up and bottle them up in the town, and now they’re returning by the road they came on, which means they’ll find nothing but the places they burned on their way into the country! You’ll remember that they burned Smolensk as well, so they won’t find much comfort there!
‘Have just heard that the Marshal is sending me west with dispatches for Admiral Chichagov, who’s come up from Turkey with an army and is to intercept the French somewhere between Smolensk and Vilna. Boris Kalinsky is coming with me—Tatya will explain who he is. Tell her I’ll take good care of him.”
‘That’s all,’ Irina finished, turning the single sheet of paper over and around in the hope of finding something more. ‘Who is Boris Kalinsky?’
‘My—my husband’s nephew.’ Tatya replied, with her usual hesitation over naming the late General. ‘He’s a charming fellow, but he’s barely eighteen, and only passed out of the Cadets in June. He’s ensign in Nikolai Volkhov’s regiment, so I can’t imagine why he’s serving on the Staff—oh, of course! Admiral Chichagov is his godfather!’
‘Why is an Admiral commanding an army?’ Irina enquired, which was something neither Tatya nor Nadya—and probably no one else except the Emperor and the Admiral—could explain. ‘If he’s going beyond Smolensk, he’ll be further away than ever,’ she commented. ‘Still, if he’s taking good care of your nephew, at least he’ll have to keep out of trouble himself. won’t he?’
She sounded uncertain, so both Tatya and Nadya made reassuring comments, and Tatya created a diversion by turning to the rest of the letters.
‘There’s one here for you!’ she exclaimed, holding out a folded and sealed sheet of once-white paper to Nadya. It looked as if it had been dropped in some mud and then trodden on.
‘For me?’ Nadya exclaimed, taking it. ‘Whoever can that be from?’
----
Chapter Five
The letter was sealed by a plain wafer, which gave no clue to the sender, and when she opened it and started to read she still did not realise what it was. It was dated from a hospital in Kaluga, and began with an extremely formal greeting, then continued with equal formality:
‘First, I must apologise that I cannot write in my own hand, but must ask Sasha Alexandrovich, who is visiting me, to be my amanuensis, as I have suffered a slight accident to my hands. As a result, I have nothing to do but lie here and think, and being in hospital with the sights and sounds of death constantly about me, my thoughts tend to linger on the errors of my past life, and I find myself increasingly worried about my behaviour towards you during our brief acquaintance.
‘To be frank, I did not believe your protest that you did not know why I had no wish to have anything to do with you, but I realise now that it is more than likely that you spoke the truth. In that case, my hostility must have been inexplicable to you, and probably added to the distress which you were already suffering.
‘Perhaps by now you have forgotten all about it, dismissed me from your mind as an ill-mannered boor, which is no more than I deserve, but I find I cannot forget. It preys on my mind that I was unjust and treated you in a manner which was cruel, considering the circumstances into which you had been thrown. I offer my humblest apologies although I fear you will not find it possible
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