Russka - Edward Rutherfurd [371]
By the time they got back to the fork in the path, Pinegin was getting irritable.
‘We’d better go on towards the skit,’ Karpenko said. ‘They must have passed us.’
But something – he did not know what – made Pinegin think otherwise.
‘I’m going back,’ he said.
‘They said to go on this way,’ the Cossack said anxiously.
But Pinegin took no notice. To Karpenko’s dismay, he went smartly off down the path; and after a minute or two of hesitation, the Cossack said: ‘I suppose we’d better follow.’
He might not have noticed them through the screen of trees if they had not moved. But suddenly Pinegin caught sight of a swaying shape as the two stood locked in each other’s arms. For a moment, just then, they seemed to draw apart, so that by the moonlight he saw their faces clearly. After a second’s pause, they moved again so that he could not see them.
For almost a minute he could not move. Olga, for whose hand he was about to ask, was with another man – her cursed brother. Stricken, he waited, and wondered what to do. Then cold anger seized him. Wasn’t she, after all, almost his own? Why should he let this happen? He started to turn off the path and move towards them.
But then he corrected himself. What was the point? This woman, whom he had loved, was dead to him now. And as he was thinking this, along came Karpenko.
‘Pinegin!’ the Cossack called out, so that his voice echoed through the trees. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Let’s go to the springs and wait for them there,’ Karpenko suggested loudly, so that the lovers could hear. And they walked back to the springs. Pinegin was very calm now. Coldly he counted the minutes. So many and Sergei had had her; fewer, and perhaps he had not.
It was just as he was on the point of deciding that, yes, this horror must have happened, that the two of them came down the path. Olga looked very pale, Sergei a little cautious. ‘We looked for you everywhere,’ he briefly said. And Pinegin nodded slowly.
‘It’s late,’ Olga then murmured. ‘Let us go home.’ She came to Pinegin’s side. ‘Arina,’ she ordered the girl, ‘you walk with us. The young men can follow behind.’
On the long walk home, they did not say much. After a time, Pinegin lit his pipe. Sergei and his friend had fallen far behind. As they came, at last, in sight of the house at Bobrovo, dawn was almost breaking, and Pinegin felt a trace of dew on his face.
Several thoughts had gone through his mind on the way back. For a short time, he had even considered forgetting the incident. It had been, perhaps, a moment’s madness. But then he had considered: If I were to take Olga now, all my life that young man would be looking at me and thinking … Thinking what? That there was Pinegin, a poor nonentity, acting the husband for his sister and lover. The thought filled his proud nature with icy rage. Whatever Olga’s guilt – and all women, he supposed, were weak – it was Sergei who had made a fool of him. He guessed, Pinegin thought, he saw my interest. Then he did this.
The simplest course would be to challenge Sergei. But a duel, whatever the outcome, is always talked of: and that would lead to Olga’s complete dishonour.
And that, he realized, would be beneath me. But something would have to be done. I shall have revenge, he thought coolly.
For Pinegin was very dangerous.
As dawn was breaking, young Arina waited.
After leaving Olga at the house, she had wandered about by herself, unable to sleep. It had been a magical night. She could hardly believe her luck when she and her aunt had been summoned to join the party. Then, when she was left with Olga and the others, she had been ecstatic.
It seemed to the girl that Olga was the most beautiful creature she had ever seen. As for the two young men, she had been studying them, fascinated, ever since they arrived. They were made in heaven, she thought, not upon earth.
And now, after this magical night, all her senses