“I brought you a gift,” said Sergei.
“What . . . why me?” said Anna. “This is the day your sister should be receiving gifts, not her maid.”
“I don’t know,” smiled Sergei. “I suppose I thought her hardworking servant deserved something special, too.”
From behind his back he drew out a parcel wrapped in brown paper. “I must confess,” he said, “that in the way of selecting gifts for young ladies, I am not very imaginative. I am afraid it is another book.”
Sheepishly he handed it to her.
Anna took it and carefully opened the paper. In her hands lay a brand new volume, bound in blue calf leather, with a brown leather spine and corners. She held it carefully, then slowly read the gold-embossed title: A Soldier’s Glory. Beneath the title was embossed the most thrilling aspect of the gift, the author’s name—Sergei Fedorcenko.
“Oh, Sergei!” exclaimed Anna. “This is wonderful! I am so happy for you!”
He stood beaming with pride as she opened the cover and gently, almost reverently, turned the first few pages, pausing here and there to allow her eyes to fall on a sentence, then reluctantly pulling herself away.
“I will hardly be able to concentrate on anything until I can get alone in my room tonight to read it!”
“Don’t show anyone,” he said, with peculiar caution in his voice. “You are the first person in the whole city to receive a copy.”
“That makes me feel so special. Oh, thank you, Sergei! Your parents will be so proud of you!”
“We will have to wait to see, I suppose.”
“But why can’t I show anyone?”
“I decided to wait until after Katrina is happily married and on her way to Greece before making it public. Just in case, you know. Besides, I don’t want to diminish Katrina and Dmitri’s special time.”
Anna rewrapped the book and held it lovingly in her hands.
“Now, I must go,” said Sergei. “It would hardly do for the best man to be late for the wedding. Dmitri will probably be wondering about me. When may I see you again?”
“You know where I shall be,” replied Anna. “With nothing for me to do during the princess’s honeymoon, I will have plenty of time for reading, and looking forward to visits from a certain soldier!”
“That will be difficult to manage without raising eyebrows. Though perhaps it is time to tell my parents of my intention to marry one of their servants at the same time I present them with the book. I might as well give them every shock imaginable all at once! But now I must go.”
“Goodbye, Sergei. Thank you so much! You make me feel like the most special girl in all the world!”
“And that you are! I will get a message to you.”
He took her hand, kissed it lightly, then was gone.
Anna left the recess and made her way back as she had come, out the west door of the church, around the corner, and back in as she had first entered. The carriages of the wedding party were starting to arrive—all gilded and shining in the cold sunlight, as befitted the daughter of one of the wealthiest and most influential men in all of Russia.
Anna clutched the rewrapped book close to her side, hoping it would not be noticed, and slipped through the door. She glided softly back to her obscure place at Nina’s side. The next time Nina glanced in her direction, Anna stood there as if she had been there all the time. Nina gave her a look of question, to which Anna merely smiled, then turned her gaze toward the front of the church. The music had begun.
Anna could not help wondering if the son of the great man all these people had come to honor would ever receive his due. Or would Sergei Fedorcenko, even possessing the dubious distinction of being a Russian author, be doomed to the same obscurity as the woman to whom he had given his heart?
Anna felt a little sad for him, desiring for him all the best, all the fame she thought he deserved. But she realized that Prince Sergei Fedorcenko thought nothing of the accouterments of wealth. Reputation meant nothing to him. His happiness was measured by the kind of moments he had just had with her—private, sincere, real, and full of life and love.
Sergei, author though perhaps he now was, had felt richer and more content when working in the field at her side, and when sharing a simple meal in a poor izba in Katyk, than ever in a lifetime of riding in splendor through the streets of St. Petersburg or striding through its corridors of power as the son of one of its great princes.
68
Anna’s tears flowed freely as she watched her mistress enter the church on the arm of her father.
Katrina looked stunning in a white satin gown, its bodice and hem studded with a fortune in pearls and diamonds. Her dark hair shone rich as ebony under the jewel-encrusted headpiece of satin and lace. Although Anna had helped work on the gorgeous gown, she had never seen the whole effect once the jewels had been added.
It was rumored the dress cost in excess of ten thousand rubles, but Anna did not allow herself to think about how many starving peasant mouths that money could feed. She was too caught up in that moment with the beauty of the bride and the entire wedding party to think of anything but Katrina’s happiness.
She was thankful, too, that God had protected the princess from marrying the wrong man. He had set her upon the right path, and in a few moments Katrina would be united with the man she had loved since childhood. The ironies of her own life did not invade Anna’s thoughts just now. There was only room for pleasure at this sacred day of Katrina’s fulfillment.
How beautiful and mature Katrina looked on this, her nineteenth birthday! Not even a hint of the usual premarital doubts or jitters showed on her glowing face. She radiated the calm assurance of a young lady who at this moment possessed everything she had ever wanted in life. When her father gave her hand to Dmitri, she gazed up at her husband-to-be with perfect love and contentment. And he returned the look with still-deepening awe—he, who until so recently had viewed this radiant jewel as little more than an inconsequential child. If Dmitri knew anything at all, he at last realized what a prize he possessed in Princess Katrina Viktorovna Fedorcenko. He had been drawn by her strength and vitality long before he had been able to admit it. But in womanhood, these qualities had finally caused the blossoming of the love that now filled his heart.
Dmitri did not view himself as a religious man. And even if he had admitted to some passing acquaintance with deeper realms of thought, his spiritual sensitivities were far from keen. Yet he was aware of a new depth in Katrina, some spiritual change which he suspected had something to do with her association with Anna. She could still prove headstrong, but she was far less self-absorbed. He saw this quality not only in the devoted way in which she loved him, but in how she loved Anna, and in how she treated the other servants. She was a woman now. But more than that, she was a woman of substance and character.
The bride and groom knelt side by side at the altar while the choir chanted the Te Deum. The priest went on with the mass and readings, blessing the couple and sprinkling holy water over their foreheads. Then they rose to pledge themselves to each other.
“I, Dmitri Gregorovich, give to you my hand, my possessions, my home, my future, and my love. To you I promise to be a faithful husband who cares for you, watches over you, provides for you, and protects you, all the days of my life.”
When he had completed his pledge, Katrina turned her gaze upon her groom, full of love and wonder. “I, Katrina Viktorovna, give to you my hand, my life, my future, and my love. I promise to be a faithful wife and companion and mother to your children, all the days of my life.”
As Katrina’s voice died away, two candlelighters approached from either side and lit the candles the bride and groom held. The priest chanted a solemn litany, then pronounced them husband and wife.
Anna’s tears were flowing in earnest. Nina reached over and took her hand, giving it a warm, affectionate squeeze. Tears stood in the eyes of Princess Natalia’s maid too.
Against her strong determination, Anna’s eyes strayed from the g
room to the best man standing next to him. A quick hand wiped away her tears so that she could see him clearly. Even though the distance was too great for their eyes to meet, somehow she knew that Sergei was looking her way, and that he too was thinking, Will this day ever come for us? Will we stand here before the priest to receive this sacred sacrament of the church? Or will we perhaps make our vows before a country priest in Akulin?
As she witnessed the splendor of the ceremony and beheld the full weight of the wealth and nobility of the Fedorcenko family, such questions seemed to Anna all the more presumptuous and fanciful. Was the thought that one day she would be the bride of Sergei Viktorovich Fedorcenko, Prince of Russia, nothing more than a dream, an unreachable fantasy?
She forced her eyes away, glancing down at the floor as the heat raced up her neck to her face. Unconsciously she clutched Sergei’s book tighter to her side.
When Anna glanced up again, she forced herself to keep her gaze focused on the bride and groom. Before long the crowd was pouring out of St. Isaac’s behind the wedding processional. Hand in hand, Dmitri and Katrina turned to face the hundreds of family and relatives, friends and spectators.
They were married now—married at last!
Anna struggled through the press of men and women to get closer, losing all contact with Nina and Mrs. Remington and the others. Katrina and Dmitri were attempting to move toward the waiting carriage that would take them first back to Katrina’s home, and then propel them along the seemingly endless stream of parties and receptions that lay ahead over the next few days.
Anna wanted to get close enough to wave one final greeting to her mistress. She struggled forward through the happy, shouting crowd.
Dmitri was helping Katrina up to her seat now, then he climbed up next to her in the open carriage. Katrina turned toward the throng one last time, smiling broadly and giving a wave of her hand.
Anna struggled to the front of the throng, unaware of the green soldier’s uniform next to her. The driver of the elegant marriage coach gave a small flick of his rein, and the carriage jerked into motion.
Anna fixed her eyes upon the happy couple. Suddenly Dmitri seemed to look straight at her as the carriage clattered off. But his words were not addressed to her at all. “Thanks for everything, Sergei, my old friend!” she heard him cry out.
Just as Katrina was about to turn around and settle back into her seat, suddenly she spotted Anna waving to her. Her face lit up in a huge smile. Anna saw the movement of her lips saying, “Oh, Anna . . . I love you!” But the sound was lost in the din.
The next moment the carriage turned into the street, and Katrina was lost to Anna’s view. She turned timidly to face the soldier standing next to her. He still had not seen her.
She gave his elbow a tug.
“Excuse me, Your Excellency,” she said with a half-bashful smile, “but you seem to have forgotten to sign your book.”
About the Authors
Michael Phillips is a bestselling author with more than seventy of his own titles. In addition, he has served as editor/redactor of nearly thirty more books. He is known as the man responsible for the reawakened interest in George MacDonald of the last thirty years. In addition to the MacDonald titles adapted/edited for today’s reader, his publishing efforts in bringing back full-length quality facsimile editions also spawned renewed interest in MacDonald’s original work. Michael and his wife, Judy, spend time each year in Scotland, but make their home near Sacramento, California. Visit Michael’s website at www.macdonaldphillips.com.
Judith Pella is a bestselling, award-winning author whose writing career spans more than two decades. Her in-depth historical and geographical research combines with her skillful storytelling to provide readers with dramatic, thought-provoking novels. She and her husband make their home in Scapoose, Oregon.
Fiction by Michael Phillips
www.macdonaldphillips.com
THE RUSSIANS*
The Crown and the Crucible • A House Divided • Travail and Triumph
THE STONEWYCKE TRILOGY*
The Heather Hills of Stonewycke • Flight from Stonewycke • Lady of Stonewycke
THE STONEWYCKE LEGACY*
THE SECRETS OF HEATHERSLEIGH HALL
Wild Grows the Heather in Devon • Wayward Winds
Heathersleigh Homecoming • A New Dawn Over Devon
SHENANDOAH SISTERS
Angels Watching Over Me • A Day to Pick Your Own Cotton
The Color of Your Skin Ain’t the Color of Your Heart • Together Is All We Need
CAROLINA COUSINS
A Perilous Proposal • The Soldier’s Lady
Never Too Late • Miss Katie’s Rosewood
CALEDONIA
Legend of the Celtic Stone • An Ancient Strife
THE HIGHLAND COLLECTION*
Jamie MacLeod: Highland Lass • Robbie Taggart: Highland Sailor
THE JOURNALS OF CORRIE BELLE HOLLISTER
My Father’s World* • Daughter of Grace* • On the Trail of the Truth*
A Place in the Sun* • Sea to Shining Sea • Into the Long Dark Night
Land of the Brave and the Free • A Home for the Heart
*with Judith Pella
Books by Judith Pella
Texas Angel
Heaven’s Road
Beloved Stranger
Mark of the Cross
THE RUSSIANS
The Crown and the Crucible*
A House Divided*
Travail and Triumph*
Heirs of the Motherland
Dawning of Deliverance
White Nights, Red Morning
Passage Into Light
THE STONEWYCKE TRILOGY*
The Heather Hills of Stonewycke
Flight from Stonewycke
Lady of Stonewycke
THE STONEWYCKE LEGACY*
Stranger at Stonewycke
Shadows Over Stonewycke
Treasure of Stonewycke
DAUGHTERS OF FORTUNE
Written on the Wind
Somewhere a Song
Toward the Sunrise
Homeward My Heart
LONE STAR LEGACY
Frontier Lady
Stoner’s Crossing
Warrior’s Song
PATCHWORK CIRCLE
Bachelor’s Puzzle
Sister’s Choice
RIBBONS OF STEEL**
Distant Dreams
A Hope Beyond
A Promise for Tomorrow
RIBBONS WEST**
Westward the Dream
Separate Roads
Ties That Bind
*with Michael Phillips **with Tracie Peterson
© 1992 by Michael Phillips and Judith Pella
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438
www.bethanyhouse.com
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan
www.bakerpublishinggroup.com
Ebook edition created 2015
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
ISBN 978-1-4412-2976-2
This book is a work of fiction. With the exception of historical personages, all characters are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to living persons, past or present, is coincidental.
Cover design by Melinda Schumacher
Judith Pella is represented by The Steve Laube Agency.
To
Janet Ann Phillips Stanberry
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
&nbs
p; Dedication
A Cast of Characters
Prologue: Brief Interlude of Hope
1
2
Part I: Conflict and Parting
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
Part II: Adjustments of a New Life
11
12
13
14
15
Part III: A Soldier’s Disgrace
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
Part IV: A Nation’s Travail
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
Part V: Aftermath of Death
38
39
40
41
42
43
Part VI: Down the Dark Road
44
45
46
47
48
Part VII: Brothers in Exile
49
50
51
52
53
Part VIII: Vengeance Unleashed
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
Part IX: Travail and Farewell
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
Part X: Triumph and New Life
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87