The Russia Storm

[Hopperdoggy]

If I close my eyes to the swirling lights and my mind to the music I can almost see myself back in London. Another place and, though it is only a matter of weeks, a very different time.

Sir Richard Ludlin's sonorous voice is booming away within the small confines of what he somewhat jokingly described as his "offices". Sir Richard's position as a senior beuraucrat in the newly formed Russian Intelligence section of the Foreign Ministery should have allowed him at least a suite of rooms in Whitehall, but his contacts also allowed him to stay where he preferred.

"Master MacCloud!" his last conversation with me begun. At the time I almost winced at the somewhat pompous and patronising tone of his voice. For indeed I was the Master of Glenholme Hall, a large and wealthy sheep breeding property encompassing much of Ayrshire in South-West Scotland.

My father, The Earl of Glenholme had berated, gnashed his teeth and shouted himself hoarse when he discovered my decision to join the Foreign Ministry instead of following the time-honoured path as an officer of the British Navy as all of my forebears had done. But I have always been my own man and followed my own path. The mists and moors of Scotland are far behind me now. Adventure is all ahead of me.

So now I find myself at the beginning of my first placement. As I open my eyes and drink in the visions before me, I thank my good creator for Sir Richard's faith in me. Second Secretary to the British ambassador to Russia. My My.

Courtiers, landed aristocracy, foreign officials and servants swirl around me in a cacophony of colours, scents and sounds. The year of 1911 provided much for those of such position as to be invited to the Czar of Russia's social gatherings.

A gentle nudge to my arm announced the presence of Lord Greenidge, a south country Englishmen of senior age. The Major, as he preferred to be named, was for all intentions and purposes my commander. He was a former soldier and somewhat of an expert on Russian affairs. "Time for you to be a-doing, my young puppy". An added sloppy wink took the sting out of his approach and I nodded.

"What would you have me to do Sir?" I asked, inwardly cursing myself for the shamedly youthful reply.

"Why my young man. It should be perfectly obvious!" My eyes followed his gaze to take in the splendid vision of a young woman, dressed in a relatively simply cut ball gown of powder blue. There could be no missing the luxuriousness of the material of her dress nor the priceless gems threaded through her hair and surrounding her neck. Indeed, her almost puritan dress only highlighted these.

I turned briefly to the Major, nodded my head and gathered my shaking soul. As I stepped towards the small circle of suitors surrounding the young woman, my interest piqued, her eyes flashed towards me briefly and I couldn't help but gasp at her beauty and obvious girlish pride. Who was this breeded filly and why was the Major interested in her?

______________________________

This is a closed story for myself and Maid of Marvels. Have fun Maid!

 

[Maid of Marvels]

Uiliana Mironova zhena Kozmina syna Shvakova

The young woman had been married young, barely fifteen, and to a man nearly thirty years her senior. The marriage had been a political alliance, her father, Ignatii Antsyforov, being first cousin to the Czar himself. As such, she had been a lucrative stepping stone for Miron Kozmin syn Shvakova's rapid rise among the aristocracy and his importance a mere three years later as an advisor to the Czar, as well as having become one of His inner circle.

Now, a respected matron of society at the still tender age of eighteen, Uiliana Mironova zhena Kozmina syna Shvakova found herself at the center of a circle of admirers, all pleading for a place on her dance card. "A moment, Kolya. I may still have a space for... " Her eyes scanned the enormous ballroom, searching for the face of someone who would not stomp on her toes as Kolya Gugajev was wont to do -- she planned to use that person as an excuse for a full card.

That was when Uiliana first saw him. Standing beside Major Greenidge, was someone she had never noticed before. A Britisher most likely, he was tall -- taller than most of the men in the room. And handsome. So very... Their eyes caught before she quickly looked away, but she was already intrigued. Uiliana made a mental note to find out exactly who he was.

 

[Hopperdoggy]

"Pretty young thing isn't she MacCloud?" The Major whispered in my ear. "It would be a fine thing for your career to be seen in her presence for a time." I mentally shrugged at this remark for my career was far from my thoughts at this moment.
"Who is she sir?"
"Uiliana Shvakova. Daughter of a cousin of the Czar's no less and therefore somewhat related to our own king. Important, no?"
"I suppose so." The major eyed me sideways at this remark.
"Remember Johnny boy. This is diplomacy, so don't let matters of the heart become involved. This young slip of a girl has had more experience in this game than you might well get in ten years. She will chew you up if you let her. Remember that!"

I nodded thoughtfully at this sudden outburst by my superior and turned back to the girl. She was talking to some young clod who appeared to have all the grace of one of my father's sheep. I excused myself from the major and threaded my way through the throngs of the social elite. I was unsure how to gracefully press my way through the admirers surrounding Ms Shvakova, when a young man stepped away from her, empty glass in hand.

Her eyes found mine again at that moment and I could not help but stare as I stepped into the breach to fight for King and Country. I thought I noticed a brief smile upon her lips but it disappeared as I moved closer to her. "Madam, I noticed you have finished your champagne. Please allow me to present you with my glass." She smiled briefly at this remark and reached for the glass.

Our fingers touched briefly at the exchange and though separated by silken and lace gloves, I fancied I could feel her flesh upon mine. I could barely contain my surprise when I noticed a large diamond and emerald wedding ring upon her finger. "Madam, I am Jonathon MacCloud. I thought I might dare request a dance, if you have space available on your card?"

 

[Maid of Marvels]

Uiliana Mironova zhena Kozmina syna Shvakova

Uiliana sipped at the champagne, taking the opportunity to examine Jonathon MacCloud over the rim of the glass. He might be a pleasant diversion from her usual throng of admirers. At least this one wouldn't try to climb her petticoats to move up the political ladder.

"It just so happens that I have the next dance free, Mr. MacCloud. I would like that very much."

"But... Uli... You promised... "

"Hush, Kolya, and take my glass. There will be many more dances before this evening ends." Uiliana smiled her sunniest smile at the young and over-eager Gugajev as the last strains of a waltz ended and a the orchestra prepared to begin a new one.

"Mr. MacCloud? Shall we?" She lifted her hand and slipped it into the Britisher's proffered arm. "Excuse us, gentlemen, will you?"

They had only taken a few steps when MacCloud turned her and danced her out into the crowd. Grateful at the reprieve he'd given from being trounced by Gugajev, she tilted her face up to thank him and found herself looking into the bluest pair of eyes she had ever seen in her life. The intensity of his glance left her speechless and feeling silly. "I... I... "