Natasha's Secret

By Jean Wyld

Natasha’s Secret is a gripping historical romance set against the backdrops of Georgian England and Imperial Russia. The heroine, Natasha, secretly loves Alan Tresselian. When they both sail to the opulent court of the Empress Elisabeth of Russia, she hopes he will return her love. Instead, he remains faithful to the girl who has just married his best friend, a Jacobite sympathiser.

Natasha and the girl who will one day become known as Catherine the Great discover a plot to murder the Empress, who is sexually attracted to Alan Tresselian’s good looks. Only after many exciting twists and turns of the plot is Natasha able to find the true love that has evaded her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hornbeam Press
• Release date: Jul 20, 2015
• ISBN: 9780992814069

Book preview

Copyright

Chapter One

London 1745

The marriage ceremony had been performed and the guests were now dancing a quadrille in the ballroom of the London mansion situated in Harcourt Square belonging to Sir Oliver Gresham, prosperous merchant and father of the bride. His daughter had just married Sir Alistair Cameron and had now become Lady Barbara, mistress of an old medieval castle and a vast estate in the Highlands of Scotland.

Although the room was full of fashionably dressed people well known in London society, Natasha only had eyes for Mr Alan Tresselian, a tall, quietly dressed figure in dark green velvet. She knew he had resigned his commission from the army but not before she had read the newspaper accounts of his outstanding bravery at the battle of Dettingden where he had fought at the side of King George II and his son the Duke of Cumberland.

Count Veronsky, Natasha’s father, also looked towards Alan Tresselian.

Barbara is a considerable heiress, he said. Not many men would have allowed her to slip so easily through his fingers as he has done. After all he did expect to marry her himself did he not? He shrugged slightly. I expect in view of the circumstances in which he now finds himself he thought the only honourable thing would be for him to step aside and let Sir Alistair have the girl instead.

What circumstances?

Sir Oliver Gresham has told me in the strictest confidence that his elder brother’s gambling debts and high living has brought the Tresselian estate to near ruin. When Alan Tresselian returned home on leave he found Sir Christopher crippled and brain damaged from a hunting accident and now the burden of administrating the place in Sussex has fallen on his shoulders. Hardly fair, as he was in no way responsible for his brother’s extravagances.

Natasha saw Alan Tresselian take yet another glass of wine from one of the silver trays being carried round the room by liveried footmen. Was he steeling himself to face the bedding of the bride and groom soon to take place, she wondered. She knew he was still in love with the bride, for Barbara had told her so and revelled in the fact that he was still unswervingly devoted to her.

How lovely Barbara was, Natasha thought as she watched the new Lady Cameron dancing the final measures of the quadrille with her husband. In her hooped gown of silver tissue with floating panels of blue silk embroidered with silver flowers she looked like a princess. She wore a small diamond encrusted cap on her auburn curls. Around her throat, arms and even on her blue silk shoes more diamonds shone and sparkled under the light from the magnificent crystal chandeliers overhead.

A young man came up and asked Natasha for the next dance. Yes, go, my dear, Count Veronsky told her and when he was alone he made a signal to catch Alan Tresselian’s eye and called him over.

I wanted a word with you, Mr Tresselian, before I left, he said. On a matter of business.

Alan looked at him with some puzzlement. Business, sir?

You once did me a kindness and I have it in mind to in some way return the favour.

I cannot remember any special kindness.

Perhaps not but I remember it very well, Count Veronsky told him. Last Winter when I fell on an icy patch while crossing the Square and was not quick enough to get up out of the way of an oncoming carriage and pair, you rode your horse forward to shield me and turned the horses away from me. An act of great courage on your part. He lowered his voice. Sir Oliver has told me of your present unfortunate financial position.

Alan frowned. If you are about to offer me money then pray do nothing of the kind. He had no right to discuss my personal affairs with you.

I have no intention of offering you money! What I have in mind is a business proposition, Count Veronsky said quickly. In fact, trade.

Trade? Alan asked. What sort of trade?

Sir Oliver Gresham has a trading ship sailing for Russia quite soon. I would suggest you buy as many bales of English silk that you can afford. You will find many willing purchasers at Empress Elisabeth’s court in St. Petersburg. Count Veronsky smiled his gentle smile. You see I am not offering you money but a chance to set your affairs in order.

Alan thought of the Tresselian estate that had been brought to near ruin by his brother’s reckless gambling. Most of the local gentry held IOU’s with Christopher’s signature sprawled across them. Tradesmen’s bills remained unpaid and workers’ wages were months in arrears. He knew that the tenant farmers were depending on him to bring the estate back to its former prosperity. Could this suggestion that he trade in silk perhaps be the way forward for both himself and the estate?"

How could I be sure that Sir Oliver would have the silk loaded on his ship? he asked. After all, I am no longer a suitor for his daughter’s hand in marriage.

Your cargo would be accepted, Count Veronsky assured him confidently.

Sir Oliver is a widower and hopes to follow Barbara to the altar with my daughter Natasha.

Sir Oliver thinking of marriage!

He is still under forty years of age, Count Veronsky said mildly. Believe me, he will do anything I ask of him.

He looked at the ballroom floor to see if he could point his daughter out but she was lost amid the throng of dancers.

Trade! Alan exclaimed. I have had no experience of it.

Then I suggest you learn. Count Veronsky replied.

Alan was used to making quick decisions and he made one now. Where in London will I find these bales of silk? he asked.

*

It is time for the bedding. The cry was taken up all round the room. Most of the guests were far from sober and they exchanged bawdy jokes as they anticipated the bridal couple being stripped of their clothes and lying side by side clad only in their nightgowns to begin their wedded life together.

Sir Alistair came to stand in front of his friend. Alan you must come upstairs for the bedding, he begged. People must see that you have no hard feelings towards me.

I would have thought my presence here should be enough to quell any such ideas, Alan replied. I am in no position to afford marriage to Barbara or any other woman, come to that.

You have always been like a brother to me , Alan. I cannot bear it if.... Alistair broke off and then continued unsteadily. Can you ever forgive me for what I have done?

For God’s sake, Alistair! Alan exclaimed. It is too late for you to have misgivings now! She is yours and that’s an end to it. Take Barbara back to Scotland and within the month you will have forgotten all about me.

He steered the young Scotsman towards the ballroom door where they were surrounded by a laughing group of men who bore Alistair up the stairs to undress and prepare him for the marriage bed.

Natasha found herself being drawn along by those who now took charge of the bride. Once in her bedroom, Barbara stood, beautiful and proudly aware of her lithe, supple figure as her clothes dropped to the floor and she stood naked while a flimsy night gown was slipped over her head. Natasha saw that Barbara was relishing all the attention and was looking around at her friends with excited eyes. To think I am now Lady Barbara Cameron, she cried. And a Scottish castle will soon be mine.

She led the way eagerly to the next room where a great four-poster bed had been prepared. Flowers decorated the room and silk garter favours were ready for her to distribute to the girls surrounding her. Natasha accepted a pink silk garter and slipped it on her leg. Then the door burst open and in came the men with Sir Alistair who looked acutely self-conscious and obviously wishing the whole ceremony could be over as soon as possible. He climbed into bed beside his bride while young men sat at its foot and threw stockings over their heads to fall on the bridal couple and bring them good luck. Natasha saw Alan Tresselian standing at the back of the crowd and noted that he was one of the first to leave.

Natasha could only imagine that it must have been one of the hardest things he had ever done in his life to stand and watch with apparent unconcern the bedding of the girl he loved with the man he had always regarded as his best friend.

Count Veronsky looked at his daughter fondly. Have you enjoyed the day?

Yes, Natasha replied. I thought Barbara looked beautiful. She is very much looking forward to going to Scotland.

It is my wish to you settled in a home of your own.

I have a home, with you.

In our position of life, Natasha , you can never be as free to choose a husband as Barbara has been.

Surely you would not refuse me the husband of my choice?

I would not, of course, I would never do that, he replied hastily. But you are not English. We have different customs.

My mother loved you.

Yes, a sweet, gentle girl, he said patting Natasha’s shoulder. Who gave me you.

She looked around the room and saw Alan Tresselian now entering with a young army officer. Count Veronsky followed her gaze. Do not even consider an attachment to that young man, Natasha, he said. He is not of high enough status for such as you.

I thought he has an estate in the country. Surely that is enough.

Even if it were not crippled by debt, my answer to you would be the same, Count Veronsky said. His rank is not high enough for you.

Even while her father was talking, Natasha could not take her eyes off Alan Tresselian. Her heart began to beat faster in her breast and she felt as if her body was pulsating with an overwhelming emotion she was unable to control. There was the sound of music in her ears. If only he would look just once in her direction but he did not.

My dear, I think we should take our leave, Count Veronsky rose to his feet. As he did so Sir Oliver Gresham came hurrying over and took Natasha’s hand in his and kissed it. She withdrew her fingers with some haste. She did not like the way he was now standing so close to her and she looked with distaste at the wet slobber on her fingers.

It was good of you to come, Vladimir, he said. I know you have not been too well of late. He bent down towards Natasha. You will have to take pity on a lonely widower now, Natasha. Will you do that?

Of course, we both will, she murmured and Count Veronsky nodded his agreement. I also have several matters to discuss with you, Oliver, he said. Now that the wedding is over you will have more time to spare to attend to your business affairs.

As their house was nearby, Count Veronsky and Natasha now began to walk home when a horseman drew up alongside them. Captain George Howard dismounted and bowed. Natasha compared his plump overweight figure squeezed into his uniform red coat and white buckskin breeches to the lean vigour of Alan Tresselian. Like Sir Oliver Gresham, he too left a trace of saliva on her fingers as he kissed them, making her want to run home and wash all over. Of the two men she was not sure which she disliked the most.

George Howard never let it be forgotten that he came from an extremely distinguished family headed by the Duke of Norfolk. Usually he spoke with patronising condescension to those he considered his inferiors but today he set out to please.

You are looking particularly lovely today, Natasha he said. In that rose silk gown I doubt whether Barbara in all her wedding finery could outshine you.

Count Veronsky smiled at him at this compliment. Yes, Natasha has grown into a beauty, he said. You are not the first to have made favourable comments on her appearance. Her tutors have given me glowing reports on her progress with them in deportment and social graces.

He looked fondly at his daughter. But her school days are now at an end and you will soon be seeing more of her at the gatherings around the Square.

School days over, eh? George Howard ran his eyes over Natasha as if he were judging a horse at a fair. You must save a great many dances for me when you come to the next ball.

If Alan Tresselian had made that suggestion, how eagerly Natasha would have agreed!

You were not at the wedding, she said in an effort to change the subject.

I was in attendance on the Duke of Cumberland, he said. A case of duty before pleasure. I am going along now to give my apologies to Sir Oliver.

He will like that, Count Veronsky said. Before he left he was telling us how lonely he will be now that Barbara is leaving for Scotland.

George Howard seemed to find this amusing. Then I must find ways of taking him out of himself, he said. There are plenty of places in London that should appeal to him.

They had now reached home and as Count Veronsky did not invite him in ,George Howard had no option but to remount his horse, raise his whip in salute and canter off towards his destination.

Count Veronsky looked after him. Another conquest, Natasha, he said. That young man would have you in his bed if he could.

Natasha blushed at her father’s unusual frankness. I would rather die, she said fiercely and then a horror-filled thought entered her head. You are not thinking of him! Not George Howard as a possible husband for me!

Of course not, Count Veronsky replied. Rest easy, Natasha ,that idea had not even entered my head!

Natasha went straight to her room where a maid helped her out of the gown she had worn at the wedding and then listened with wide eyes as Natasha described her day in some detail.

Count Veronsky, despite feeling tired, did not go to bed but sat in his library and began to open parcels that had recently been delivered. Around him the shelves were filled with books of every kind in all the European languages besides several in Arabic script and ancient Greek. Despite his modest manner and quiet way of life, Count Veronsky’s library could only have been acquired by a very rich man with its first editions, specially printed volumes and section of mariners maps and charts. It was a collection far beyond the purse of the majority of families living in Harcourt Square but as none had ever been admitted to this room they had no idea of the passion for books that consumed so much of his income. As far as they were concerned, his life was spent educating his daughter with a series of tutors, dancing masters and a lady who taught the pianoforte. He was seen taking drives with Natasha and at times would attend a small dinner party in the Square but said very little about himself or why he had decided all those years ago to live among them.

Natasha’s maid continued to brush her hair and by now they were joined by two other servants who sat listening with rapt attention to what their mistress was saying about the wedding. Natasha had known them all her life and it never occurred to her that servants in other houses in Harcourt Square did not share the same sort of relationship with their employer. Count Veronsky took little interest in running the house. He paid higher than usual wages and took their loyalty for granted.

It has been a most exciting day, Natasha ended.

You have said nothing about the gentlemen, Miss Natasha, one of the maids said. Did you dance every dance?

Not all of them, Natasha replied. But several gentlemen did take me onto the floor and thanks to Mr Brown’s lessons I was able to tread most of the measures.

And were the gentlemen handsome?

Natasha thought immediately of Alan Tresselian. Very handsome, she said.

She found herself wondering where he had gone with his army friend when he had left the wedding. From the servants she had learned of the gambling clubs where gentlemen gathered of an evening and then of course there were the brothels! She knew of these from Barbara! Although well-brought up girls were not supposed to know of their existence, Barbara had soon enlightened her.

Oh, Natasha, you are such an innocent! she had exclaimed. I knew of such places years ago. The men who come here to see father are forever talking about the women they met and slept with the night before. They have no idea I have been listening all the time to their conversation.

She had shown Natasha the concealed doors in some of the reception rooms that led to smaller rooms from where Sir Oliver could stand and overhear exactly what his guests were saying about him when they thought they were alone. He was also particularly interested to hear the views of his sea captains. More than one who had boasted of the wool he had pulled over Sir Oliver’s eyes with regard to profit made on a cargo, would find himself dismissed by an irate owner who knew every detail of the way he had been cheated.

Now that you are finished with the schoolroom you will be able to go to more balls and entertainments, one of the maids broke into Natasha’s thoughts. Gentlemen will flock to the house. You will receive many proposals of marriage, Miss Natasha.

Oh, I will not be married for years and years yet, Natasha replied seeing their knowing looks. In her heart she knew that the only man she wanted to marry was Alan Tresselian. She had fallen in love with him from the first time she had seen him riding by to visit Barbara. Once or twice she had been in Sir Oliver’s house taking tea with other girls from the Square when he had arrived but apart from looking into the room and smiling politely he had soon taken himself off and occupied his time with his host until Barbara was free to entertain him alone.

If only he would come to see her father and ask for her hand, she thought wistfully, and the maids exchanged glances when they saw her dreamlike expression.

However it was not Alan Tresselian who came the next day but Captain George Howard. A very arrogant, self-assured George Howard who sat opposite Count Veronsky and told him he wished to make Natasha his own. He left no doubt that he was conferring a very great honour by this proposal. After all, with the Duke of Norfolk a close relation and promotion to general assured, what more could Count Veronsky wish for his daughter than himself!?

Count Veronsky heard him out and then shook his head. What you are proposing is impossible, he said. I am, of course, honoured that you should have considered my daughter but it is completely out of the question.

George Howard stared at him astounded at this refusal. Perhaps your English is not up to the mark, he said. It is marriage I am suggesting. I want her for a wife, not a mistress.

If you had indeed made such dishonourable suggestion I would indeed have been forced to call you out, the count told him with some hauteur.

You mean you are actually refusing me! George exclaimed.

My plans for her future are already made, Count Veronsky replied. Her whole education and training has been such that she is now ready to marry and take her place among the highest circles of European society.

George Howard’s voice became tinged with scorn. Such men are unlikely to be found among those who frequent the houses in Harcourt Square!

That is very true, Count Veronksy agreed.

George Howard still could not believe he had been refused. "I will