Read Online Valerie's Russia by Sara Judge - Free Book Online

estate we live simple lives and manage to provide most of the everyday things.’
    Once the lights of the village were left behind and the sky began to darken they had only the moon to guide them, but Pyotr knew the way well and told her the horses would find their way home even in a blizzard.
    Across the snow-white carpet they skimmed, the only sound being the hissing of the runners beneath them and the cheerful tinkling of the little bells ahead.
    ‘Over the next rise you will see the lights of Mavara,’ said Pyotr, looking down at the girl who was snuggled warmly in her furs. It reminded him of the last time they had travelled together on a sleigh.
    Valerie also remembered, and was thankful Pyotr was holding the reins and unable to put his arms around her. Life was so romantic in Russia with the sleigh-rides, and the snow, and the warm seductive furs. It was hard to keep a cool head in this fairy tale world beneath the silvery lustre of the moon.
    But Mavara would be busy and noisy, bustling with life; there would be many people working and talking, hammering and cooking, cleaning and washing. She would have Tassya to talk to and would try to speak to her about the holy man and, although she would see Pyotr, she vowed he must never be allowed to overwhelm her with sweet words and tender caresses as he had done before.
    ‘Here we are,’ Pyotr said, slowing the horses as they entered a wide courtyard with the house looming ahead of them.
    There were a great many outbuildings and the two unlit wings that reached out on either side of the yard, appeared hostile in the darkness.
    But lights were shining cheerily from the main block and the front door was open, allowing lamplight to spill out onto the snow.
    Pyotr drew the horses to a halt as a man-servant appeared in the doorway, calling out a greeting. As another man moved forward to take the reins, Pyotr helped Valerie from her furs and escorted her across the cleared path to be introduced to Feodor, with Dashka behind her.
    Feodor was a short, ageless man without a wrinkle on his broad face. He possessed no hair on his pink scalp, but had a very bushy black beard and whiskers. He was attired in an old black frock coat, black trousers, and well-worn black shoes. Valerie liked the friendliness in his blue eyes and bulging cheeks when he smiled.
    She followed Feodor into the hall, which was big and cold, with a tiled floor and wooden panels on the walls reaching up to the ceiling. Pyotr told Dashka to take Valerie’s case to her bedchamber, then he led her through a door on the right, which opened into a spacious red-carpeted room. Here it was beautifully warm, and Valerie gave her outer garments to Feodor before moving forward and studying her surroundings.
    A fire burned in the marble fireplace, and a round table stood in the middle of the room, covered with green felt over which was spread a white lace cloth. A samovar boiled happily on the table, surrounded by plates of fresh brioches, and buns, and a fruit cake.
    It was pleasing to see a proper tea, after the plain biscuits at Alexander Palace, and Valerie was hungry. Several chairs were set around the table with green plush seats, and morewell-worn armchairs were beside the fireplace and against the walls.
    Suddenly a voice called out behind her.
    ‘Petya – is she here?’
    There was the sound of wheels in the hallway and Tassya arrived, her chair pushed by a maid-servant. Crouched low, Tassya’s face was rosy with excitement beneath a mass of dark brown curls.
    ‘Tassya, dearest sister, meet my very good friend, Valerie Marsh from England,’ said Pyotr, as Valerie stepped forward to greet the girl.
    To her astonishment, strong little arms were flung around her neck as Tassya reached up to hug her.
    ‘I am so pleased to meet you, Miss Marsh. Please excuse my poor English. I try very hard to speak like you,’ said Pyotr’s sister.
    Her eyes were blue, like her brother’s, fringed with very dark lashes, and