An Awkward Revolutionary - 10. Chapter X

Aleksander and Daniil had spent more time with Raisa Stepanova than they intended. Often this is how circumstances dictate, but Daniil was aware his parents were waiting. One might have thought they would have had time enough to enter into the details of what Raisa was proposing, but it was not so. Perhaps because they had been more occupied with entertaining, listening to music and playing cards.

In the time they did spend in discussion it became obvious that Raisa Stepanova liked Daniil although she seldom agreed with him. Daniil, for his part, felt a looming sense of unease, as if his world had been moved off its axis and he was presented with a different view. It was not so far removed that he might ignore it, rather it made more serious, ideas which had until then been vague notions.

With all this, a change took place in both men. Aleksander had discovered himself, his true nature. Most importantly, he was in love. He had become very close to Petya, his heart had tasted the pleasure of a kindred soul, and as was right for someone infatuated he thought of nothing else or no one else when they were together.

The attraction between Aleksander and Raisa was of a different kind. He felt it was beyond his power to engage with her. He was self-conscious in her presence and yet he found her knowledge and ideas interesting. With Petya he felt safe, at home, and easy. They talked about art, music, novels, anything and everything. He felt good in Petya's company and it seemed Raisa and Daniil shared a similar relationship. One which was rapidly taking on a serious aspect. Because Daniil was much more involved with Raisa, he and Aleksander spent less time together. Aleksander saw a regard in Daniil which had changed, as if he were perturbed, upset, perhaps even ashamed of his companion.

Aleksander noticed this, but said nothing, preferring to keep his thoughts to himself.

The real reason for this change in Daniil were the feelings which tormented and saddened him. He had always been an admirer of the male form, it was evident in his art and his life, but he was not a romantic. Neither was he unattracted by the fair sex, he could equally admire the curves of a beautiful young woman as he might those of a young man.

He liked Raisa Stepanova, was attracted not simply by her beauty, but by her nature and the freedom and independence of her thinking. Yet there was an undeniable conflict, because she was a lady whom one might court, but certainly not obtain with a few words or coins the tryst one could with a peasant lad. She had kindled a flame within him and set alight a passion which might lead, almost inevitably, to a romanticism he admired only in the abstract and from which he fled in the real world. Such were the conflict of his emotions he would be forced to take himself off, escape the house, and march through the gardens and into the countryside.

Daniil too, had caught Raisa' s attention and not only because he might be recruited to her cause. She was glad to discuss life with him, but was at times angered by what she found as a lack of conviction. A reticence to act in any real way, to take the risk. Still she enjoyed his company and was taken aback when he announced that he must leave. Efim, his father's estate manager had turned up. The rough looking, but gentle old man who had looked after Daniil as a child, arrived unexpectedly.

"Efim, what are you doing here?" Daniil gave his old guardian a long hard stare.
"I was passing and heard you were here."

"Really!" Daniil raised his eyebrows.

"I don't mean to bother you."

Daniil did not pursue his questioning about Efim's calling there, he had no wish to embarrass the old man.

"How are my parents?" Daniil asked, knowing this was the reason Efim was here.

"They are very well, sir."

"Did they send you?"

"No, they did not."

"I suppose they are waiting for me?"

"Yes," Efim sighed, and pulled on his cap.

"I will be there shortly."

The old man gave a nod, turned and climbed back onto his carriage.

That last evening when Raisa Stepanova was sitting alone with Daniil while Aleksander was in the drawing room listening to Petya play the piano, she had not welcomed the news they would leave in the morning.

"How can you think of leaving when there is so much to be done. What of your promise?"

Daniil had avoided her gaze.

"What promise?"

"You were to meet some important people."

"But we will come back," he insisted. "What can I do? My father is expecting me and I have been much delayed."

"Why leave?" She asked, rather upset.

He looked at her, sitting dressed in that elegant white dress, long white evening gloves reaching to her elbows. The candle light flickered and sent shadows dancing around the room.

"I have explained," Daniil sighed. "I have too."

"I'm not sure you are serious."

He frowned. "Of course I am serious. But... I cannot commit to your politics without the time to reflect and talk with those others. To know what are your plans."

"You cannot commit to me, perhaps?"

She turned her head to look away from him. There was a silence between them, before she spoke again.

"Open the window. I need some air."

He stood up and moved across the room to the window, lifted the catch, it opened more forcefully than he imagined. He caught it before it swung too far backwards.

"I'm not sure things can wait upon your return," she told him.

"Of course they can. They will have to, or you can go ahead with whatever you intend, but without us."

"Sit down and tell me about yourself. I know nothing very much about you, or your family. Your father, for whom you must leave in such a hurry."

Daniil was tempted to say it was not in a hurry, that visiting her was an unplanned diversion, but he remained silent.

"What of your nature?"

"My nature?" He was tired of this conversation and he could not keep the irritation out of his voice. "Let's not part with a bad feeling hanging in the air. I have nothing to hide. What about yourself? Is it not at odds with your situation to intimate revolutionary ways?"

She threw her head back and laughed.

"You think of me as an aristocrat. Even if that is true it would not prevent me wanting change."

"Indeed it would not."

"You don't know me very well and you claim all men are alike, yet evidently that is not true. Do you not find me a passionate person?"

Daniil sat back down in his chair. A feeble light flickered in the corner of the room. A chill breeze invaded the space from the open window.

"I think you are dangerously seductive," he said, and she smiled.

"You invite two students, strangers, to stay in your house. You talk of politics and change. You are a beautiful woman and yet you are here in the country. Indeed, I do not know you very well."

"You think me spoilt. A creature of wealth that needs nothing. It's not true. I have deep desires. I am moved by finding the way things are."

Daniil stood up. "I don't mean to imply that your motivation is in doubt. We have two things playing out here, do we not? Emotions and motivations. I cannot resolve anything now. You have my word we shall return. At least as far as I may speak for another. But," Daniil smiled, "I am sure Aleksander will want to return."

Raisa said nothing and in the silent pause the sounds of piano music drifted into the room from elsewhere in the house.

"Why is Petya playing so late?" Raisa asked absently.

It was a question to which she sought no reply. Her eyes came to rest on Daniil in the flickering gloom as she examined him attentively. Daniil bade goodnight and left her alone, closing the window on his way out. But sleep was not on his mind and pulling on his coat he walked out into the cold night.

It was sometime later when he returned and found Aleksander who asked, "Have you been wondering around alone again? What of Raisa Stepanova?

"It's late," he replied. "You and Petya were playing the piano."

"Not I," Aleksander said, overwhelmed by a sudden wave of sadness.

They did not leave as early as Daniil would have liked, because Raisa engaged them in conversation. It was Aleksander who had picked up the latest issue of the journal and he began reading aloud. There was, he read, a disconcerting series of events which had erupted in violence and the dispertion of a mob of peasants by the forces of order. One person had been shot. Although it was in the east of the province, and not near to them, this served to highlight a growing unrest.

Raisa Stepanova got up and moved towards the door. She looked back at them with an expression which said, 'look how shocked I am.' Aleksander glanced at Daniil and returned his attention to the journal. There was little more to note about the incident. It was certain to him, however, that he needed answers about their host and quite what she was leading them into. Were it not for his new found relationship with her brother, Aleksander would not have considered coming back here.

Before they left Raisa took Daniil aside. Aleksander was outside, saying his farewells to Petya.

"Why must you leave," she asked him.

"Have you not understood," he spoke softly. "I must return home. We will come back again, later."

"Later."

The word hung in the air. "Time presses. Events are in progress."

"I know," Daniil replied.

He took her slender arm and kissed her gloved hand. They joined Aleksander and Petya outside. She watched silently as they climbed into the carriage and she stayed watching with Petya as they drove off.

"A beginning," she said to her brother as they went back inside.

To what? He was not quite certain he understood.