Laces of Love, page 28
“Well, this is definitely a thing,” said Mirzoyev, looking at one of the plump ladies.
“My dear, you better come here!” the anecdotes' teller called him.
Mirzoyev saw Count and Countess Naryshkin, admirers of such events. The honorable couple was standing beside some picture and about five other guests had already gathered nearby. Count Naryshkin spoke in his deep voice,
“Gentlemen, just look how charming and stunning this creature is!”
The Countess, who got used to her husband's enthusiasm during twenty years of marriage, smiled favorably and pretended that she had a genuine interest in the picture.
“What a grace, what a body!” continued the Count, “and this amazingly beautiful animal!”
The surrounding echoed him,
“Charmant! Charmant!”
The anecdotes' narrator whispered in Mr. Mirzoev's ear,
“Everyone was attracted by an unusual graceful animal however, piquant rumors appeared around the naked young beauty. Some people said she was supposedly an illegitimate daughter of the philanthropist Prokofiev, while others say she was his lover,” and pointedly looked at the manufacturer.
Mr. Mirzoev, meanwhile, admired the picture, wondering what would be the best wall to hang it on in his new house...
***
Eventually, the picture was sold for five thousand rubles to a certain connoisseur of arts and female beauty who had wished to remain “incognito”.
With this money, the young couple of Yelensky acquired an excellent two-storey house in Basmannaya Street, although they had to wait a little while with a chocolatier cafe on Pokrovka. Vasily decided, "Well, we cannot have it all at once, we will earn some more money and then..." Arina, being finally convinced that her adored Vasechka loved her and had married her not for her dowry, decided to make her own dream come true. She bought a house in Pokrovka and rebuilt it into a chocolatier shop.
***
Innokenty Petrovich was not doing well lately, however, persistently refused to move to Basmannaya Street to his children, arguing that he would not want to cause inconvenience for them. Arina could not understand how her father would be any kind of inconvenience in such a large house! And, finally, she went to his place, packed his belongings, picked up his servants and, ignoring his objections, moved him in their new house.
***
Arina enthusiastically engaged in the improvement of their new house in Basmannaya Street, handing over the bakery shop's management to Glafira, who had now become the confidant of the owner. She bought new furniture for the living room, gave the best drawings of her husband to the framing workshop and had them hung over the fireplace. The interior came out to be stylish, quite in the spirit of the times.
In one of the largest and lightest rooms she arranged their bedroom, not saving on the decor: the huge Italian bed of impressive size was inviting to make love.
Then Arina took up arranging a workshop for Vasenka, which came out successful too. She went to the art salon on the Sofia Embankment and bought for her husband the most expensive paints, pastels, paper, easel, and many other small things. She ordered to drape the windows of the workshop room with dark cherry curtains, and bought a new large desk. After that, the room took on the look of the bohemian boudoir.
Arina ordered one of the rooms to be decorated with beige wallpaper, picked curtains of the same shade and bought a baby cot. In five months they expected their child, and it had been the most desired thing in the young couple’s life. The future parents decided: if they have a girl, they would name her Natalia, in honor of Arina’s mother. And if a boy, they would name him Michael, in honor of real Vasily's father.
***
Vasily did not quit the job in the judicial newspaper. As usual, he was returning home from the Khamovnichesky Court, where the case of a certain philistine Varvara Ivanovna Zinovieva had been heard. She was accused of using forged documents for getting employed in decent houses as a maid and then robbing the owners. Vasily, sitting in a carriage and looking at his sketches, suspiciously thought, “I know I have seen this woman somewhere. But where? I just can’t remember.”
THE CUPID'S APPLE
Prologue
The major[28] of the artillery Sergey Lvovich Zavyalov, the man in his prime, has finally got a long-awaited leave. Initially, he requested it for two months earlier but his petition to the military authorities wasn’t approved on time.
It was a lovely warm September. A small picturesque town Suzdal where the regiment of Mr. Zavyalov was situated exhausted him with its provincialism and boredom. Alas, but Suzdal was not Moscow or St. Petersburg. Life flowed slowly and quietly, almost nothing was happening, unless one takes into account two or three duels during last few years. However, the duelists got off with simple scratches: either they shot poorly or failed in fencing.
Sergey Lvovich knew well all the beauties and socialites of Suzdal. He even had an affair with one until he had caught his lady of heart in his rival's hugs. Zavyalov did not grieve for long and from socialites of the local scale switched to regular townswomen. But shortly after that, however, he got fed up with their eternal conversations about apple jam, home, farming, and colorful muslin.
Sergey Lvovich turned forty recently. He felt lonely and had started thinking that it is time to get married. But where would he find a decent wife? He wanted to marry a woman who was not only housewifely but also pretty and intelligent. And the last condition significantly complicated the choice of the officer.
Zavyalov had to decide whether to visit his aunt in the Verkhny Luzhki estate, which was not far away in the Vladimir district or travel to Moscow. But, having thought it over, he decided: he knew almost no one in Moscow, what would he do there? It was unlikely one would meet a decent lady at a restaurant.
And therefore Sergey Lvovich chose, as usual, Verkhny Luzhki. Moreover, he had been missing his beloved aunt and really wanted to see her. Zavyalov packed his small suitcase, took two excellent evening suits and went to a nearby carriage station in order to hire a cab with a coachman.
The trip to the aunt's estate usually took the whole day: the major should have left his regiment by early morning, with first rays of the sun, and arrived at his hospitable relative's place by the evening.
Of course, the aunt sometimes annoyed Sergey Lvovich with excessive zeal, trying to arrange his marriage, however, this had been understandable. After all, she was like a mother to him, and actually had been raising him like her own son after her sister's death. And this circumstance somewhat bothered the brave major, he did not like all these pesky women's things: the matchmaking, arranged dates and a “bride” demonstration as if by chance. He truly believed that he had to find a worthy girlfriend of life by himself. And he was searching for her many years. But this time Sergey Lvovich's heart prompted: he would certainly return from Verkhny Luzhki to Suzdal with a wife, as his aunt would not get off him until he was married.
The carriage drove along the dusty road, creaking with springs. About an hour later, Sergey Lvovich, tired of monotonous roadside landscapes, had fallen asleep.
He dreamed of aunt's village and saw himself as a young guy, almost a teenager. It was rather a memory than a dream that had appeared from the depths of his mind.
His favorite aunt, Aglaya Dmitrievna, was still young enough. She was thirty-nine years old. Three years ago she had widowed, and God, alas, did not give her any children. Therefore, she turned all of her unspent maternal love on her orphaned nephew, taking care of him and pampering him in every possible way.
Sergey woke up at exactly nine o'clock, as usual. At his aunt's estate, everything was subject to order: awakening, breakfast, lunch, afternoon tea, dinner and, finally, bedtime — everything had its particular timing.
The nephew got up, put himself in order and went down to the living room for breakfast. The maid Varvara, who had been invariably baking delicious pies every morning, bustled near the table. Sergey loved those pies. For many years in a row, every morning was beginning with the pleasant smell of fresh warm baking... Frankly speaking, he really missed Varvara's pies in the army!
Sergey had his breakfast; he always had an excellent appetite. If the nephew ever ate poorly, the thoughtful aunt immediately called for a nearby doctor, who did a complete medical examination, which never showed anything except bruises and abrasions on boy's body.
After breakfast, Aglaya Dmitrievna announced,
“We are going to Veresovo. I want to visit Anastasia Nikolaevna. Besides, you will have a chance to see Polina.”
At the mention of Polina, Sergey usually blushed. He felt the rush of blood to his cheeks, but could not help it. And so every time his auntie was making fun of her nephew,
“When you grow up, you must marry Polina. It would be just lovely. And you would live next to me!”
Alas, Sergey had no his own property. His deceased father went bankrupt, the estate and possessions had been confiscated for debts. His mother could not stand such life tests and had fallen ill, letting the disease take her away. In just a week Sergey had become an orphan.
Polina’s papa Mr. Veresov was nothing like Zavyalov Sr. He showed due respect for his family property, and therefore was considered a wealthy and businesslike landowner.
Aglaya Dmitrievna perfectly understood that without his own property Sergey's chances of marrying Polina or another landowner’s daughter were simply close to zero. Therefore, she made a testament in favor of her nephew and had ensured that as many as possible neighbors would get to know about it. The Verkhny Luzhki estate and its land were considered an excellent steading for that time and Aglaya Dmitrievna had been very proud of it.
At last, a long-awaited moment came: Aglaya Dmitrievna and Sergey got into a carriage and headed to Veresovo.
When they arrived, Anastasia Nikolaevna kissed Aglaya Dmitrievna three times, as always, according to the Orthodox tradition. The women would immediately find things to discuss, which constantly surprised Sergey: how many houses, neighbors, and details of the life in capitals could be discussed at once? But ladies, adsorbed by their conversation, quickly forgot about young Seryozha. And that was when she usually appeared, the fascinating fateful star - Polina.
The young lady, whose beautiful seducing shapes were noticeable under the bodice of the translucent dress, casually entered the living room and stretched out her hand to Seryozha for a kiss. She always copied her mother's behavior.
“Bonjour, Mon Cher!” she said and smiled. Sergey took the hand of the young seducer and kissed it.
The young lady smiled with false modesty,
“Ah, Serge,” she recently began calling her childhood friend in a French manner. “How about we go on a boat trip on the lake?”
“I... It would be my pleasure,” Sergey mumbled.
“Let's go then!”
They left the house. An intricate fountain streamed in the courtyard, spreading coolness on a hot summer day. Polina went to the fountain and, having scooped water in her palm, tried to splash it on Sergey.
He snorted: splashes hit him right on his face.
“Oh, Polina! Do you remember last time you promised me not to do this again?” he reproached the charming young lady.
“Oh, really?” she got genuinely surprised, widely opening her blue eyes.
Polina knew perfectly well that Sergey could not resist her gaze, and would certainly apologize. And she was not mistaken.
“Well, I guess I got a bit confused here. I am sorry...”
Polina laughed out loud.
“I hope you will not get confused between your future bride and...”
“And whom? Well, speak!” Sergey asked, losing his temper. He hated when Polina had been teasing him.
“And, let’s say, a maid...”
Sergey blushed and turned away.
“Alright, do not be angry, I was just joking. Seriously, how can one pay attention to what women say?”
“You are still not a woman but...”
Polina chuckled and shrugged her shoulders coquettishly.
“And who am I then?”
“A girl...” Sergey was a little confused but immediately corrected himself, “a young lady.”
“I will soon be fifteen. And I will get married and become a woman.”
Sergey was embarrassed.
“It is too early for you to get married...”
“Why is that? At this neighborhood, a daughter of one of the landowners was given out when she was sixteen. And by the way her husband was thirty-two years old. That is a true story!”
“So compared to her, he is an old man!” Sergey was indignant. “And do you want to get married in the same way?”
“I do not know... I have not thought about it yet. But he is rich and experienced in life and love. That’s what my mother says.”
As she mentioned the word "love", Sergey's face became ruddy. Polina made fun of him again,
“Oh, why do you always blush like a girl?”
“I am not a girl!” Sergey exploded, “I am a man!” he said decidedly. And as if confirming his words, he grabbed Polina and held her tight in his arms.
“So what are you going to do next, huh?” the young charmer provoked her gentleman.
Sergey remembered how he had become a bystander to the love scene of a maid and a gardener. He was struck by the way the man kissed the maid - with his tongue.
He mustered all his courage and clung to Polina's lips...
***
The carriage jumped, hitting on another stone, and Sergey Lvovich woke up. He yawned sweetly and thought,
“I do not understand, whether I slept, or not? Why did I remember about Polina? I have not seen her for so many years...”
Sergey Lvovich plunged into his memories again. His last meet with Polina Veresova flashed before his eyes. It was right before Aglaya Dmitrievna had sent him to the cadet corps.
“So, you are leaving for Moscow?” Polina looked visibly upset.
“Yes, I entered the cadet corps...”
“And what about me?” asked the young charmer.
“I will come back to you in three years. By that time I will be eighteen, and we will be able to get married...”
“Three years!” Polina exclaimed. “This is equal to eternity!”
“I will always remember about you,” Sergey assured her.
Polina handed him a small velvet box.
“What is this?”
“Open, this is my gift for you...”
Sergey opened the box and found a golden curl of Polina’s hair inside.
“So that you would not forget me when you are in Moscow.”
“I will keep it in a special medallion and will wear it on my chest,” Sergey promised.
***
The carriage bounced again and Sergey Lvovich swore cursing impassable Russian roads.
“I wonder, where is that Polina's curl now? I remember exactly that the medallion was with me... We parted for three years, but have not seen each other for more than twenty. Why have I forgotten about her? Yes, my wild youth... I do not even remember all the beautiful ladies I once went crazy about. Why did not I meet Polina when I have been visiting my aunt in Verkhny Luzhki? I do not even know her fate.”
***
Chapter 1
1874. The estate Verkhny Luzhki in Vladimir province.
“Aglaya Dmitrievna, my dear! How are you going to fit all this in my plate? This is way too much for me!” Sergey Lvovich Zavyalov tried to argue with his annoying aunt, who strove to put more roasted meat on his plate.
Eventually, Sergey Lvovich surrendered: his dear aunt Aglaya Dmitrievna was not an enemy to whom the major of artillery was obliged to show restraint and stiffness. To her a strong forty-year-old man could only capitulate.
“Eat, Seryozhenka!” The auntie always called her nephew that way since his childhood. “Who in your regiment will pamper you with tasty food? Everything is homemade and fresh, cooked by Varvara. Do you remember my cook Varvara?”
“Yes,” Sergey Lvovich nodded, trying to cope with another portion of roast, but, alas, there was no more space in his stomach. “Have mercy! I am not able to eat anymore... That is enough...”
“Seryozhenka, you have lost weight. It seems that your cook does not make any nice food!” Aglaya Dmitrievna grumbled.
“Regimental cook, not my personal,” Sergey Lvovich specified.
“Exactly. You need to think about your future. You will soon turn forty-one, and you are still not married. All those field shooting ranges will not substitute family comfort...” the auntie began from afar.
The nephew winced.
“Uh,” he drawled, “I have not thought about it,” Sergey Lvovich lied.
“That is too bad you have not. I am all worn out. You are not a stranger to me. I raised you, I sent you to a military school. And here you are, came out so handsome, and even reached the rank of the major. You are all good, Seryozha, but you only think of your service. I start thinking: did I do the right thing when I sent you to the cadet corps?”
“Yes, you did the right thing...”
“I doubt so, if your soldiers and guns are more precious to you than family and children.”
The nephew frowned again and aimlessly stared at the plate with the unfinished roast.
“Aglaya Dmitrievna, of course, you are like a mother to me, but...” Sergey took a deep breath and continued, “Are you planning on introducing me to some “overripe” maiden again?”
“What made you think so, my dear? By no means! She is a true lady, good-looking, educated and thrifty...”
“But the fact is - I will not like her again. And it will be embarrassing, like last time.”
