Part 56 (1/2)

Lydia found the mixture of insult and praise disconcerting. 'Thank you for inviting me, Countess.' This time she didn't bob a curtsy. Why should she? 'Is your son here tonight?'

Countess Serova's cool blue eyes took the measure of Lydia, and without replying she turned her gaze on Mrs Zarya. 'Olga Petrovna Zarya, kak molodo vi viglyaditye, kak molodo vi viglyaditye, how young you look tonight.' how young you look tonight.'

Mrs Zarya preened herself delightedly and dropped a curtsy, but Lydia did not hear her response because a young woman in black who was standing behind the countess, clearly an attendant of some kind, leaned close to Lydia and murmured in Russian, 'He is in the ballroom.'

Lydia excused herself and followed the sound of music.

The woman s.h.i.+mmered. In an off-the-shoulder sequinned gown she was seated at a grand piano at one end of the ballroom, her fingernails vivid red against the ivory keys. She was playing a modern piece Lydia recognised. Something by Shostakovich, something decadent. The pianist swung her silky blond waves in time to the rhythm. It annoyed Lydia instantly, that overdramatic way of performing. But why hadn't the countess invited Valentina to play? She turned away because whenever she thought of Valentina, the photographs in the drawer leaped into her head and made her feel sick. Instead she looked around her.

The room was beautiful. The high ceiling was painted with muscular heroes and nebulous G.o.ddesses who looked down on the pale polished-beech floor. Huge gilt-framed family portraits of people with long noses and arrogant eyes were designed to overpower guests of fragile nerve. Gleaming mirrors reflected thousands of pinp.r.i.c.ks of light from chandeliers and threw them back into the room to highlight the dancers as they flowed with bright smiles from one end to the other. But Lydia's eyes were soon elsewhere, on a cl.u.s.ter of men in deep discussion in front of one of the long velvet drapes. One tall angular back in immaculately styled evening wear and with a head of cropped brown hair set Lydia's hackles rising.

She made directly for it.

'Alexei Serov,' she said coldly. 'I'd like a word.' She touched the black ridge of his shoulder.

Instantly he turned, and the broad smile that greeted her only infuriated her further. She felt an urge to slap it off his face.

'Good evening, Miss Ivanova, how delightful that you are able to join us tonight.' He snapped his fingers at a servant in maroon livery, standing to attention against the wall. 'A drink for my guest.'

'No drink, thank you. I won't be staying.'

A frown crossed his long face at the coolness of her tone. His gaze studied her face, his eyes so intent on hers that she could see tiny golden flecks buried in the green irises.

'Is something wrong?' He ran a hand over the thick bristles of his hair and down the back of his head. It was the first time she had ever seen him betray the slightest sign of unease.

'I would like a word. In private, please.'

His head drew back and he stared down his straight nose at her, half a smile curving his mouth. She did not care for the way he narrowed his eyes, his dark eyelashes used as a barrier between them. Another man with something to hide.

'Certainly, Miss Ivanova.'

He placed a firm hand under her elbow and steered her effortlessly through the dancers to what looked like a mirror with carved gilded vine leaves around it but which turned out to be a door. More sleight of hand. They entered a small windowless room that contained nothing but a pale green chaise longue and a forest of stuffed animal heads on the walls. A wild boar with twelve-inch tusks glared at Lydia. She looked away and shook her elbow free of the grip on it.

'Alexei Serov, you are a lying b.a.s.t.a.r.d.'

His composure was rattled, but he hid it well. His hand slowly stroked his jaw, revealing cuff links of gold scarab beetles. 'You insult me, Miss Ivanova.'

'No, it is you who insult me if you think I won't realise who it was who sent Kuomintang troops to my house.'

'Troops?'

'Yes. And we both know why.'

'I'm sorry, I don't understand what you . . .'

'Don't. Don't waste your breath denying it. Your poisonous lies crawl out of the gutter and only insult me further. Because of you I could be in prison now. Do you realise that? And my . . . my friend . . . could be dead. So I have come here tonight to tell you . . .' She could hear her voice sliding out of control, losing the iciness she'd planned. ' . . . to tell you that your plot failed and that I think you are the lowest of the low. A filthy wh.o.r.e-boy to Chiang Kai-shek and his grey devils. Pretending to be a friend to me, yet . . .'

'Stop, Lydia.'

'No, I will not stop, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d. You betrayed me.'

He seized hold of her arms and shook her. 'Stop this.'

His face came close to hers. They glared at each other. She could hear the click of air at the back of his throat as he swallowed his anger.

'Release me,' she snapped.

He removed his hands.

'Good-bye,' she said, putting all the ice she could summon into the single word. She walked stiffly to the door.

'Lydia Ivanova, in heaven's name, what demon is inside you now? How dare you march in here with accusations and then refuse to hear my response? Who do you think you are?'

Lydia stopped, one hand on the heavy bra.s.s doork.n.o.b, but she didn't turn around. She couldn't bear even to look at the deceitful b.a.s.t.a.r.d. There was a moment's silence while the dead creatures in the room watched through gla.s.s eyes. She could hear her own heart thumping.

'Now listen to what I have to say.' His voice was astonis.h.i.+ngly calm. 'I know nothing about troops at your house.'

'To h.e.l.l with your lies.'

'I did not not betray you. Or your wounded Chinese Communist. I told no one what I saw at your house, you have my word on that.' betray you. Or your wounded Chinese Communist. I told no one what I saw at your house, you have my word on that.'

'The word of a liar is not worth spit.'

His angry intake of breath satisfied her.

'I am speaking the truth,' he said sharply, and she knew that if she'd been a man he'd have struck her.

'Why should I believe you?'

'Why shouldn't you?'

She swung around. 'Because there was n.o.body but you to send the troops for Chang An Lo. You. Only you knew.'

'That's plainly absurd. What about your cook?'

'Wai?'

'You think he didn't know? Miss Ivanova, you have a lot to learn about servants if you think they don't know everything that goes on in a house.'

Lydia swallowed. 'Wai?'