Undying

I glanced furtively around. Tatiana, and I were standing by ourselves in the Great Hall. It would have been the height of madness for a prisoner of war "guest" to be caught alone with the fiancé of the Lord of the Manor's son; even if his father DID view him as a disgraceful little chickenshit. But I was inexorably drawn to this woman. I gestured toward one of the window alcoves. There would be some privacy without appearing to be clandestine. She followed me.

We faced each other. I could see the tentativeness on her face. I probably looked equally confused. My normal move in those situations would be to grab a tit in one hand and a buttock in the other and kiss her. Especially if the woman was as beautiful as Tatiana was. Amazingly, I was disgusted by even the THOUGHT of doing that. It would be a base and demeaning thing to do to the woman you loved.

I said with humble respect, "I realize that this is poor manners and I apologize for my boldness. But I feel as if we've known each other in a past life. I know that sounds mad. But I can't account for the compelling sense that I've experienced this before."

Her splendid blue eyes registered astonishment. It was like I had read her mind. She blushed prettily and said, "I don't understand what has happened either. But I feel exactly the same way. It is as if I know you intimately, and you are privy to my innermost secrets. How could this be when we have just met?"

I said jokingly, "Maybe the Hindus are right. Maybe this was predestined." My skinflint father-in-law had invested heavily in the East India Company and General Anson was a relative of his. Anson had spouted that crap whenever he came from a John Company visit. He said that the Hindus believed that the soul was immortal. They called it karma.

By that logic, I suppose it was possible that I knew Tatiana in another life. But of course, that was foolish nonsense. The better explanation was that we fit each other's notions about the ideal mate. Still, I couldn't shake the sense that I had loved this woman since the time of the pyramids.

She was looking at me, eyes shining. She said, "I am to marry the Hetman's son. Razin wants the connection to the royal family and my uncle, the Czar, needs his support." Marriages among the nobility were arranged based on political and economic advantage. If the affianced pair were attractive, all-the-better. But physical appeal was irrelevant.

She added still blushing, "I know that what I am asking strains the bounds of propriety. But I feel the need to explore this further. I hope you feel the same way."

At that, she abruptly turned and walked toward the women's side of the building. When she entered the hallway, she stopped, turned, and gave me a longing glance. That look left me standing there musing in the bright sunlight coming through the eighteen-foot high, floor-to-ceiling windows.

Life had always been easy for me. I was the second son, a military adventurer. I had no family ties. In fact, I'd never felt anything for anybody. Hence, I had zero personal attachments. Especially the kind that can break your heart.

I had walked away from a faithless wife, because I hadn't actually loved her. I'd simply used my discovery of her in-flagrante to get what I wanted. I didn't see that as morally right, or wrong. It was just the way I did things. Now, there was no denying the reality that I had the irresistible desire to nurture, protect and cherish this mysterious new woman; that, at all costs.

My little servant friend confronted me as I walked to my rooms. It was obvious she was ready for a rematch. Normally, that was an offer I couldn't resist. Big luscious tits, bright wanton eyes and a mop of dirty blond hair. I shook my head unhappily and said, "Nyet." She looked as confused as I felt.

*****

The engagement ball was a month later. It was a grand gala, involving most of Tatiana's relatives. Czar Nicholas had just kicked over the traces and his son Alexander II was too busy arranging the end of the war. But every other species of royal was there.

Razin had made it back after Sebastopol fell. He was holding court with the other Cossack nobility, pointedly ignoring his wife who was squatting toad-like among the ladies. Aleksey was lording it up with his usual pack of wastrels. He was already three sheets to the wind. I was standing alone, in my usual window alcove. It had been a very tough month.

Tatiana was never unchaperoned, and it would be suicidal for me attempt to talk to her if other people were present. She was a proper royal lady and a bargaining chip in the great game. So, her probity had to be absolutely assured. That assurance was provided by a collection of lady's servants, and guards, who accompanied her everywhere.

The war had ended badly for the Russians and none of them were in a mood to suffer the likes of me. So, my trying to woo her would not have been taken kindly. Hence, I had to watch the only woman I would ever love, go about the highly regulated process of getting to know Razin's depraved son.

It was a carefully choreographed dance. Everybody with a dog in the fight was watching the progression of things to ensure that there were no missteps. The two of them had been formally introduced the week before. That event wasn't a ceremonial dinner at the manor house. It was a diplomatic occasion that was held in front of ambassadors of the Czar and the Razin household.

We lesser-folk all stood around the great hall in a herd, watching the open space in front of the windows. I hadn't missed the fact that those were the same windows where Tatiana and I had first met; where the connection had been forged. Perhaps you have never known the painful yearning that I experienced. You would have to be utterly devoted to somebody to feel that way. Yet, if you have ever suffered that kind of heartache, you know exactly how I felt.

You want to be with the love of your life every second of every day. You want to bask in the light of your mutual passion. You want to banter and exchange your deepest thoughts. Most importantly, you want the constant reassurance that the other person feels the same way about you. I guess that describes the emotion called love. And sadly, I never got close enough to my love to as much as exchange a glance.

In fact, Tatiana and I had never even been in the same room until the introduction ceremony and it was killing me. It was like I had contracted the ague; right down to the chills and aches. Those came over me every time I saw Tatiana wandering the lawns of the estate with her ladies. Needless to say, floods of melancholy were washing over me.

I was even more shocked to find how greatly my desire for Tatiana had increased during our enforced separation. It was more like an obsession now. That was an utterly alien emotion for me. And, because of the lack of reinforcement, I began to doubt that there ever was anything between us in the first place.

I had always had a good laugh at the brooding treacle that oozed out of the Bronte novels. Now I was living it. Even worse, rather than responding the way that I normally did to the onset of and feelings of mawkish sentimentality; getting drunk and rogering some little piece of Russian fluff, I was mooning around like a lovesick swain.

Hence, there I was, standing at the back of the hall and suffering from an advanced case of green-eyed fever, waiting for the only woman I would ever love to be led out like a prize cow at the Guernsey Cattle Show. I think I mentioned that I'm taller than most. Thus, I was able to see over the heads of the crowd, even though I'd been shoved to the back with the servants. We were all standing in one half of the hall. The other half was empty except for the Czar's representatives and Razin.

The door to my right opened and Aleksey walked out in full Zaporizhian Hetman gear. His frail frame was clad in a long bearskin coat, red pantaloons and a close-fitting Russian mink hat. He had a curved Cossack sword at his belt and the piece of rat fur that he wore under his nose was groomed into a weak handlebar. He looked ridiculous.

He stood and struck a classic Cossack pose. Then, he wavered slightly. There as an almost audible gasp from the people in front of me. Aleksey was clearly skunked. Only his mother made a croak of pride. Then he wobbled his way across the room to stand with his Father.

Finally, the door to my left opened and The Lady, The Grand-Duchess Tatiana Gregorova emerged. She was in a gorgeous, pale-blue silk gown trimmed in sapphires. The dress revealed an astonishing amount of excellent cleavage. Regency was still the style in Russia. Even if showing her boobs off like that would have gotten her banned from Victoria's court. I had remembered her incorrectly. I knew she was lovely. But she was a generational beauty. I swear, a ray of dazzling sunlight followed her as she glided across the room toward where her uncle's representatives were gathered.

As before, her perfect features were framed by her extraordinarily luxurious hair. But this time I could also see her elegant shoulders and her ample bosom with skin like the finest satin. My heart was breaking as she smiled shyly at her intended. In return, he gave her a lecherous leer.

Then she furtively glanced in my direction.

The ball that took off Sergeant-Major Thatcher's head was like a light slap compared to the impact of that glance. Her look was filled with misery and longing. She was suffering the same pangs as I was. I don't know what my anguished return glance told her. But she flinched as if she had been hit. Still, she was a Royal. So, she composed herself and turned to her fate.

Substantial speechmaking ensued. I didn't speak Russian. But I applauded along with the rest. Aleksey had to be prompted for responses because he couldn't take his eyes off of Tatiana's tits. She stood like the ice maiden, no emotion whatsoever, responding politely where appropriate.

Then the representatives stepped aside. The happy couple were allowed to touch each other for the first time in their soon-to-be married life. The protocol required the man to take the ladies proffered hand in a two-handed grip. Say something appropriately romantic, and then bow and kiss the top of her delicate fingers. But Aleksey was clearly stewed.

Possibly, that explained what happened next. The minute the Czar's representative offered Tatiana's hand, Aleksey bleated like a sheep, took a drunken step forward, and grabbed Tatiana in an embrace that the old me would have heartily approved of. Then, he summarily dragged her into a sloppy kiss. The look of astonishment and fear that came over Tatiana's face made my blood boil.

Her future husband was trying to fumble one boob out, when Razin and the Czar's deputies dragged them apart. Tatiana was absolutely devastated. Aleksey was still making obscene rutting noises. There was shouting. The crowd was either gasping in horror or loudly laughing. I made a vow then-and-there, to kill the little snake. It had to be done. Tatiana couldn't marry a monster like that. I'd survived the Valley of Death. I was living on borrowed time anyhow.

Tatiana rushed crying into her quarters. Razin handed Aleksey to the Cossack guards. It was clear that he had been deeply humiliated, and he was in no mood to suffer his idiot son. At that point his wife tried to intervene on Aleksey's behalf. Razin was a man of culture. But it looked like he was going to hit her. Before that happened, one of the Czar's representatives took both parents aside and there was a lot of frantic gesturing and yelling.

We were all herded out. So, I didn't see the resolution. But it was obvious that feathers had been smoothed. That was the reason why I was now standing by myself at my love's engagement ball. The orchestra played a fanfare and the bride-to-be swept into the ballroom. Tatiana was stunning.

She was in one of those classic Victorian ball-gowns, the yellow silk molded to her beautiful hips. She was wearing a lot of diamonds and white gold. The festivities paused while everybody applauded. Her smile was weak and unconvincing. She was terrified. I was wearing my Lancer uniform. It looked as good as new. It had been carefully cleaned, the rips had been repaired and I looked dashing with all of my regalia on.

I was dressed that way because they wanted me ready to travel at a moment's notice. The word had come down to Razin that I was to be taken to Kiev and thence back to Sevastopol, where I would be handed over to the British. I knew I wasn't going anywhere. Since, I would soon be dead or rotting in a Russian jail.

There was a receiving line; to allow us to pay our respects to the newly affianced couple. I joined it and worked my way up to the guests of honor. I got to Aleksey first. He was wearing a crisp white and gold Leib-Guard Uniform. Those are the elite units that serve as the personal protectors of the Czar and his family. It was nothing more than a costume for him. Since he was a spineless coward. I towered over him, as I offered him my hand and coolly said, "Felicitations on your wedding, old boy." He didn't extend his. Instead he looked at me with absolute contempt and said, "Ah yes, the Englishman. I don't shake hands with English dogs."

Under normal circumstances, my only recourse would be to invite him out for pistols at dawn. But I was standing in a glittering receiving line full of Russian aristocrats. So instead, I muttered "We will see about that, my good man." Then I moved on to Tatiana. She was quivering like a small woodland creature. One hand was on her delectable bosom and the other extended. The polite hand gesture reflected her excellent breeding. No matter how fearful she was, she was carrying on.

A cauldron of fear, revulsion and profound hopelessness was brewing in her eyes. There was also the deepest and most sincere adoration. That was reserved strictly for me. I know that I must have given her something similar back. Because she sent me a full barrage of yearning and sexual longing. That was all taking place as I took her little hand in a gentle two-handed grasp and muttered, "Felicitations my Lady." Then I moved on to Razin and the toad. I didn't look either of them in the eye. Razin was smart enough to figure out what I was planning.

The dancing was the waltz. Strauss was all the rage in Europe and the people in the room were sophisticated specimens of European aristocracy. The twirling figures in their glittering finery were a splendid panoply of movement and color. I was not among those people, since I was the despised outsider.

The gaiety was getting to me. I had seen into Tatiana's soul and she was as profoundly miserable as I was. It was our karma to be together. But circumstances made the hope of our joining utterly impossible. I was leaving for Sebastopol, sentenced to live the rest of my life in an unhappy marriage, pining away for my lost love. Even worse, Tatiana was condemned to a lifetime of being the personal chattel of a decadent and sadistic pig.

I planned to solve the Tatiana's problem, by removing her intended from this earth. It would be my parting gift to her. I was appalled at how selfless I was becoming. It simply didn't fit the old Lambert style. Still, I wasn't going to give Aleksey the pleasure of abusing the only thing that I held dear.

I excused myself from the happy revelers and walked out, through the enormous French doors and onto the massive stone patio; musing as I went. Aleksey was rarely alone. Not that that he needed to be, since the presence of witnesses was irrelevant. But I would have to dispose of the little turd by hand and I was afraid that I might get dragged off him before I finished the task. That is, if enough of his friends were present.

The patio opened onto extensive formal gardens replete with hedgerow fancies. It was a warm spring night in the Ukraine. Perfect weather for an engagement festivity. There was a cloudless sky swathed in stars with an almost melodramatic full moon. The moon lit the world in a silvery glow. It was a beautiful and peaceful scene. The music and the sound of the happy revelers wafted to me as I selected a cheroot. I sat on a stone bench wrapped in melancholy.

I lit the cheroot and took the first aromatic puff. Then I heard a strangled cry accompanied by a woman weeping. It was coming from behind the first row of topiary. I immediately knew. I sprang to my feet, pounded across the patio, dashed onto the crushed stone path and into the garden. Sounds were coming from my right. I turned, desperately searching the space between the hedges. The moonlight made everything ghostly bright.

I saw them on the ground not thirty yards distant. Alexey must have asked Tatiana to accompany him into the garden, so they could talk. That would be the proper way of getting acquainted. Of course, Aleksey didn't have a noble bone in his body. So, rather than discussing each other's wishes hopes and dreams, Aleksey wanted to prematurely consummate the marriage.

He was between my love's struggling legs, one hand holding both arms above her head, while the other was tearing at her pantaloons. Her dress and chemise had already been ripped off and one spectacularly full breast was bouncing enticingly as he noisily gobbled the nipple. She was weeping and plaintively pleading for Aleksey to, "Please stop!!" She wasn't screaming, at least as yet, because she didn't want anybody to witness her humiliation.

This was my chance. I was perhaps a half foot taller and four stone heavier than the little twat. So, I put my hands together and violently clubbed him in the back of the head. He made a strangled yelp and collapsed on Tatiana. I dragged his lifeless body off her and threw him into the hedge, like a piece of offal.

Tatiana was thrashing in panic and hysterically weeping. I stood over her huffing like a Great Western steam locomotive; staring anyplace but where she lay. She was wearing nothing but the remnants of her pantaloons, which had been pulled to her knees. Her big full breasts, her tiny waist and her womanly parts were all on display.

Of course, I had seen a lot of breasts, bellies and cunnys in my day. But this was my love, my other self; and I was just as humiliated by her state of nakedness as she was. So, I turned obliquely, addressing one of the shrubs, and said with tenderness, "Don't worry my love. He won't hurt you anymore. It will be my honor to die defending you."

Then to my utter astonishment, a blade jutted from the front of my uniform. The little rat had stabbed me with the razor sharp shashka that was part of his Guards costume. Naturally, it was in the back. My partial turn was fortuitous; since it kept the wound from being instantly fatal. How wonderful!! I now had time to finish the business.

Oddly enough, there was very little immediate pain. Others had told me that mortal wounds aren't felt as much as sensed. Perhaps that's a mercy. I spun abruptly. The shashka was buried to the hilt in my back, protruding just below my ribcage. They don't have guards. So, the turn ripped the sword out of Aleksey's hand. I glared at him. He was glaring back, with a triumphant sneer. He should have been running.

I seized the front of his uniform. He gave a squeal of fear as I yanked him toward me. Then I closed my fingers around his throat. His eyes bulged as I began to crush his windpipe. My grip was driven by the pent-up rage that had accumulated watching him debase my love. His arms began to flap like a chicken's wings. Then he reached up and tried to break my grip. I increased the pressure as he gouged at my eyes. I thought, "Who needs to see? I'm dead anyhow."

It took what seemed like forever. But it was probably only two minutes. I was looking into Aleksey's terrified eyes as the light slowly went out of them, his arms fell. I continued for another few seconds, just to make sure. Then I dropped him.