resist Dr. Zinnovy’s relationship with the Romanovs, at least for the present.
“Good night, gentlemen. I wish you good fortune in your hunt for the disorderly Bolsheviks.”
“Yes—Dr. Zinnovy, sir. A good night to you, sir. And to you, Miss Peshkova.”
“Thank you,” she said, surprised by her own calm.
The coach door closed after she was securely inside, the horses pulled forward, and in a few minutes, she had left the nightmare behind on the dusty road.
Karena looked across the seat at Dr. Zinnovy’s grave expression. She heard a breath pass through his lips as he sank back into the coach seat. He removed his spectacles and wiped them with a handkerchief.
“Unwise, very unwise, Miss Peshkova.”
“I don’t understand why you helped me, Dr. Zinnovy, but if not for you, I would have been arrested. I am in your debt.”
He shook his head. “You owe me nothing.”
She looked at him more astutely. His eyes were blue beneath graying black brows. Twenty years ago, he would have been a very handsome man. He placed his spectacles back on the bridge of his nose.
“You were foolish to go there tonight.”
“Yes,” she admitted, too polite to mention he’d been there as well.
“Mr. Lenski is wanted by the secret police. Any connection with him will place you and your family under the highest suspicion.”
“Yes, I—realize that. However, sir, I am not a Bolshevik.”
“You would have a most difficult time convincing them. Your brother is reckless. It was most foolish of him to mount the box as he did and begin verbally attacking Policeman Grinevich. What if there’d been a spy in the crowd? Your brother could be arrested and sent to a labor camp.”
“Which is his argument, Dr. Zinnovy—men should be respected for freedom of speech.”
“I do not disagree. I mean only to warn you that the Okhrana is aware of him. If you were noticed tonight, despite my bluff with the policeman just now, they will be aware of you also.”
Has Sergei escaped or is he even now under arrest? And what of Lenski?
The doctor straightened his glasses. “I do not mean to sound as if I’m intruding, but will you tell me why you were at the assembly tonight?”
Dr. Zinnovy was a strong, fatherly figure, and she liked him at once. This was her opportunity—if not to ask for his intervention with the Imperial College of Medicine, then at least to show him how much she desired to attend.
“I went to meet Dr. Lenski’s daughter, Ivanna, a student at your medical college. I believe Dr. Lenski is a friendly colleague of yours. My brother knows Ivanna quite well, having met her in St. Petersburg. I’d written Dr. Lenski asking for her help in gaining admittance to the medical program and thought Ivanna might be bringing me a letter tonight from her mother. Ivanna did not show up. For her sake, I’m relieved she did not.”
He appeared thoughtful behind his light blue eyes. “Yes, Dr. Lenski and her daughter Ivanna, of course. I know Dr. Lenski well. She was one of my students.”
Karena smiled. “My mother was as well. In fact, she and Dr. Lenski shared a room at the college. Do you remember my mother, sir? Her name then was Yeva Menkin.”
He frowned, removing his spectacles and staring at them. Again, he polished them. “Menkin, Menkin … Perhaps … Yes, she was an excellent student. So you wish to follow in her steps, do you?”
Karena leaned forward. “It’s been my ambition all my life. I’ve applied for the medical program, but my mother is Jewish, which means the quota allowed each year is very small. I’ve been turned down each time.”
He said after a moment, “Well, Miss Peshkova, your determination is to be commended. I’ll speak to Dr. Lenski when I return to St. Petersburg. Perhaps something can be done.”
Excitement and joy flooded her heart. All traces of weariness and fear fled away.
“Dr. Zinnovy, if I’m accepted into the program, I shall be the happiest woman in
“Good night, gentlemen. I wish you good fortune in your hunt for the disorderly Bolsheviks.”
“Yes—Dr. Zinnovy, sir. A good night to you, sir. And to you, Miss Peshkova.”
“Thank you,” she said, surprised by her own calm.
The coach door closed after she was securely inside, the horses pulled forward, and in a few minutes, she had left the nightmare behind on the dusty road.
Karena looked across the seat at Dr. Zinnovy’s grave expression. She heard a breath pass through his lips as he sank back into the coach seat. He removed his spectacles and wiped them with a handkerchief.
“Unwise, very unwise, Miss Peshkova.”
“I don’t understand why you helped me, Dr. Zinnovy, but if not for you, I would have been arrested. I am in your debt.”
He shook his head. “You owe me nothing.”
She looked at him more astutely. His eyes were blue beneath graying black brows. Twenty years ago, he would have been a very handsome man. He placed his spectacles back on the bridge of his nose.
“You were foolish to go there tonight.”
“Yes,” she admitted, too polite to mention he’d been there as well.
“Mr. Lenski is wanted by the secret police. Any connection with him will place you and your family under the highest suspicion.”
“Yes, I—realize that. However, sir, I am not a Bolshevik.”
“You would have a most difficult time convincing them. Your brother is reckless. It was most foolish of him to mount the box as he did and begin verbally attacking Policeman Grinevich. What if there’d been a spy in the crowd? Your brother could be arrested and sent to a labor camp.”
“Which is his argument, Dr. Zinnovy—men should be respected for freedom of speech.”
“I do not disagree. I mean only to warn you that the Okhrana is aware of him. If you were noticed tonight, despite my bluff with the policeman just now, they will be aware of you also.”
Has Sergei escaped or is he even now under arrest? And what of Lenski?
The doctor straightened his glasses. “I do not mean to sound as if I’m intruding, but will you tell me why you were at the assembly tonight?”
Dr. Zinnovy was a strong, fatherly figure, and she liked him at once. This was her opportunity—if not to ask for his intervention with the Imperial College of Medicine, then at least to show him how much she desired to attend.
“I went to meet Dr. Lenski’s daughter, Ivanna, a student at your medical college. I believe Dr. Lenski is a friendly colleague of yours. My brother knows Ivanna quite well, having met her in St. Petersburg. I’d written Dr. Lenski asking for her help in gaining admittance to the medical program and thought Ivanna might be bringing me a letter tonight from her mother. Ivanna did not show up. For her sake, I’m relieved she did not.”
He appeared thoughtful behind his light blue eyes. “Yes, Dr. Lenski and her daughter Ivanna, of course. I know Dr. Lenski well. She was one of my students.”
Karena smiled. “My mother was as well. In fact, she and Dr. Lenski shared a room at the college. Do you remember my mother, sir? Her name then was Yeva Menkin.”
He frowned, removing his spectacles and staring at them. Again, he polished them. “Menkin, Menkin … Perhaps … Yes, she was an excellent student. So you wish to follow in her steps, do you?”
Karena leaned forward. “It’s been my ambition all my life. I’ve applied for the medical program, but my mother is Jewish, which means the quota allowed each year is very small. I’ve been turned down each time.”
He said after a moment, “Well, Miss Peshkova, your determination is to be commended. I’ll speak to Dr. Lenski when I return to St. Petersburg. Perhaps something can be done.”
Excitement and joy flooded her heart. All traces of weariness and fear fled away.
“Dr. Zinnovy, if I’m accepted into the program, I shall be the happiest woman in
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