Free To Dream of Snow by Rosalind Laker

denying admittance, she took a couple of steps forward and looked steadily at the Frenchwomen.
    â€˜I am Madame Rostova,’ she announced imperiously. ‘French is spoken throughout the domestic quarters as well as in Court circles. You need have no fear that you will not be understood. The coachman has already told me that you are seamstresses from Paris.’
    Marguerite experienced a sense of foreboding, but did not show it as she introduced herself and her companions. The woman’s expression did not relax.
    â€˜Your names mean nothing to me,’ she replied crisply, ‘and I have had no notification of your coming. We already have sewing quarters in the Palace with a full staff of needlewomen.’
    â€˜But we’re here at the request of the Empress herself.’
    â€˜Request? What insolence! Her Imperial Majesty does not request! She commands! You have papers endorsing such orders?’
    â€˜No. It was all arranged through the Comtesse d’Oinville, the wife of a French diplomat here in St Petersburg.’
    â€˜That name is unknown to me too. There are so many foreigners coming and going at court. This Comtesse must either present herself to the right official to speak on your behalf or else you must obtain an authorized statement from her without delay.’
    â€˜But she isn’t here! There was a change of plan and she left us in Riga to join the Comte d’Oinville in Moscow!’
    â€˜Then nothing can be done at the present time. You must leave this palace at once.’
    Behind Marguerite the seamstresses groaned loudly in despair and Isabelle’s face crumpled as she began to weep silently. But Marguerite had no intention of being turned away. ‘No! You have no right to go against your Empress’s expressed wish that I should come here with some of the best needlewomen in all France to make her the loveliest gowns that have ever been seen in this city!’
    A shade of uncertainty passed across the woman’s eyes. The Empress was like her father, Peter the Great, in bringing the most unlikely foreigners from far distances to do some specialized work for her. It was highly likely that these Frenchwomen were the result of an imperial whim. What was most important was that she knew what her own fate would be if she sent them away in error. She dared not risk it.
    â€˜Tell me how it all came about,’ she said stiffly.
    â€˜The Empress admired gowns worn by the Comtesse and wanted the talents of whose who had made them. Couldn’t word of our arrival be taken to the Empress?’
    Madame Rostova looked astounded at the suggestion. ‘Certainly not! I need to make inquiries and discover if you are truly expected or if a great mistake has been made. However, out of charity I shall allow you all to stay here tonight.’ She frowned as the drivers began bringing in the baggage from the sleighs and she indicated that everything should be set down in the hall. ‘You may take out what you need from your travelling boxes tonight, but they must remain here until the matter of your presence under this roof is settled one way or the other.’
    She turned sharply, her back very straight, and reopened the door to lead the way into a vast kitchen that was one of a series of kitchens, each opening through a wide archway into another as far as the eye could see. All the servants present looked at them, but carried on with their tasks. Two of the maids, who were folding cloths, were called forward.
    â€˜Take these Frenchwomen to one of the empty bedrooms in the servants’ quarters and also show them where the privies are. See that the beds are made up and the stove lit. Then bring them back here.’
    â€˜Yes, Madame Rostova.’
    The maids took lamps and led the new arrivals out of the kitchen. Immediately they showed a friendlier side as well as being full of curiosity. Although their French had a strong Russian accent they were fluent in