Heart of Iron - Ekaterina Sedia [20]
He was laughing still. “I hope your friends will get a chance to say the same to you.”
I smiled then. “I hope so too.”
He put his hat back on, and stood a moment listening for the sounds of the pursuit. Satisfied that there was none, he offered me his arm. “It would be my pleasure to escort you back to your dormitory, Miss Trubetskaya,” he said.
I nodded and took his arm. “Thank you. Anastasia must be worried sick.”
Chapter 4
I did not get a chance to tell Olga about my miraculous rescue and the terrible behavior of the Nikolashki —by the time Mr. Bartram and I arrived at the dormitories, all windows but mine were dark. I listened to Anastasia’s relieved exclamations and then went to bed, but not before peeking out of the window, and observing that, to my disappointment, my rescuer was gone.
I saw him on Monday in my philosophy class. It took place in the afternoon, when most of those present, full and contented after lunch, dozed to the monotone of Professor Zhmurkin, who informed us of the Prime Mover and other such fanciful notions. I, however, was alert, and looked past Olga and Dasha’s nodding heads (it was like watching a seesaw) to the back of the auditorium. When I looked behind me, my heart fluttered painfully in my chest. The colorful robes and long braids were gone now, replaced by a row of empty seats. There were three Chinese students left in attendance, and all of them had their hair cut in the current style and wore Western dress.
My sorrow was quickly replaced by blushing, fluttering joy as my eyes met the steely-gray gaze of the Englishman from last night, who smiled and nodded to me as if I were an old friend. I quickly turned away, and listened to the lecture, flustered by my embarrassing joy. I should not be feeling elated with Chiang Tse and Lee Bo missing and Wong Jun no doubt languishing in some prison. But what could I do help them?
As always, I imagined what Aunt Eugenia would say. Her stern voice crystallized in my mind with perfect clarity. “Foolish girl,” she would’ve said if she were here. “You have plenty of connections in this city—don’t tell me your poor mother and I wasted our time introducing you. If you want to find something out, nothing’s stopping you.”
That was true enough, I thought. Yet Eugenia had never been subtle, and I suspected that the matter of arrested foreign friends required at least a modicum of subtlety. Unfortunately, I was too much of Eugenia’s niece to think of anything artful. My first inclination was to march to the Winter Palace and shout at the emperor; my second was to spit in his brother’s smug face. Either course of action was unlikely to yield the desired results.
I barely heard the end of the lecture, and nudged Olga when we were dismissed. She woke with a start, rubbed her eyes, and shot me a look of mild irritation. “What did you do that for?”
“Time to go,” I said timidly. I still hadn’t apologized for Saturday; I wasn’t planning to even though I knew she expected it.
Olga rose and followed Dasha Muravieva out, and I lagged behind, angry at myself for feeling guilt even though I had done nothing wrong. I was almost ready to apologize anyway, so as not to feel so shut out.
“Miss Trubetskaya?” I heard a soft male voice behind me. I knew who it was before I turned around.
There was a sly quality to Jack Bartram’s smile, and it made me think that he was always hiding something wonderful, that he held some magical secret in the hands he clasped behind his back.
I couldn’t help but smile in return. “Mr. Bartram. It is a pleasure to see that you are well.”
“As well as your friends.” He followed me out of the auditorium and offered me his arm, which I took with a sense of developing habit.
“What do you know about them?”
He leaned closer, his warm breath tickling the tip of my ear. “A friend of mine was at the train station yesterday, early in the morning. He saw two young men of Chinese origin board the train, and I’d wager they were those fine gentlemen I never got a chance to properly meet. I thought you might like to know that.”
“Thank