“That's all? He looked so serious, as though you'd said something important to him. And he didn't smile when he said good-bye.”
“Perhaps he's thinking about all this, little one.” And then, carefully, “He's really far too old for you.”
“It doesn't matter to me. He's such a nice man.”
“Yes, he is.” Evgenia nodded quietly, hoping silently that he would be nice enough not to call again. Zoya was too much at risk with him, and if she fell in love with him, what then? It could prove to be disastrous.
CHAPTER
17
Evgenia's prayers that Clayton Andrews would not return were not destined to be answered. After trying to stay away from her for a week, he found himself constantly thinking of her, obsessed with her eyes … her hair … the way she laughed … the way he had watched her play with Sava … even the photographs she had shown him of the family of the Tsar seemed to haunt him. She had made them real to him, and now instead of a tragic figure of history the Tsar had become a man, with a wife, a family, and three dogs, and Clayton found himself mourning the enormity of his losses as he sat imprisoned in his home in Tsarskoe Selo.
And as he thought of her all week, Zoya also found herself constantly thinking of Clayton.
He reappeared at Zoya's home this time, and not the ballet, and with her grandmother's permission, took her to see
Evgenia knew by then that Clayton was badly smitten, as was Zoya. They went for long walks in the park, had lunch at little cafés, as Clayton explained the passing uniforms to her, the Zouaves, the English and Americans in khaki, the “poilus” in their pale blue coats, and even the Chasseurs d'Afrique. They talked of everything from ballet to babies. Zoya still insisted that one day she wanted six children, the thought of which made him laugh.
“Why six?”
“I don't know.” She shrugged with a happy smile. “I prefer even numbers.” She shared her last letter from Marie, it spoke of Tatiana falling ill again, though not seriously this time, and Nagorny being so faithful and kind to Alexis. He never left his side now.“… And Papa is so good to all of us. He keeps everyone feeling strong and happy and cheerful …” It was difficult to imagine and it tore at Clayton's heart as he listened. But they spoke of far more than the Tsar's family when they met, they spoke of all their passions and interests and dreams.
It was a magical and lovely summer for Zoya. Whenever Zoya wasn't dancing, Clayton seemed to be there, amusing her, taking her out, and bringing them both small gifts and thoughtful little treasures. And then in September, all the innocent pleasures ended all too quickly. General Pershing announced to his aides that he was moving General Headquarters to Chaumont, on the Maine, and in a matter of days Clayton was to leave Paris. At the same time, Diaghilev was making plans to take the Ballet Russe to Portugal and Spain, and Zoya was faced with a painful decision. She couldn't leave her grandmother alone, and she had to abandon the troupe, which almost killed her.
“You can dance with one of the other ballets here. It's not the end of the world,” Clayton encouraged, but it was to her. No other company was the Ballet Russe, and it broke her heart to leave them. The worst news of all came two weeks after Alexis's birthday. Zoya received a letter from Marie, sent to her, as always, by Dr. Botkin. On August 14, the entire Romanov family had been removed from house arrest at the Alexander Palace in Tsarskoe Selo to Tobolsk in Siberia. The letter had been written the day before they left, and Zoya had no idea how they were, only that they had gone. The thought was almost more than she could bear. She had imagined that at any moment they would go to Livadia and be safe there. But now everything had changed, and a sense of terror clutched her heart as she read the letter. She showed it to Clayton before he left, and he tried vainly to reassure her.