The Midwife of St. Petersburg by Linda Lee Chaikin Page B

his
persecutors
.”
    “I suppose you’re right, Colonel.”
    “This individual in St. Petersburg you mention, perhaps he’s an acquaintance of mine?” he asked, wondering if she referenced her beau. He could hardly imagine a young woman with her qualities not having a suitor.
    “Professor Matvey Menkin, my uncle on my mother’s side. Have you heard of him? He’s written several articles in educators’ journals and is now doing research for a book on a matter of Jewish interest.”
    This was the second time she’d mentioned her Jewish connections, as though placing a bulwark between them. Her face was a lovely mask, her eyes veiled. What were her motives?
    Before he could respond, his attention shifted across the room. Madame Zofia appeared with a gracious smile, escorted by General Viktor.
    A moment later, Tatiana swept in, followed by the elderly Crow sisters. Their eyes were bright with apparent excitement over introducing their newest find in the world of mysticism. Between the sisters stood Grigori Rasputin.
    This
, thought Alex, with a sense of grief,
is what our Russian nobility embraces as their spiritual shepherd
.
    He glanced at Karena, encouraged by a look of dismay as she bit her lip and lowered her eyes. Fyodor’s soft face was blank; he stared, took out his monocle, cleaned it with his kerchief, and placed it in his eye.
    Around the room, guests fidgeted and chattered like nervous birds. Alex knew they all hoped to witness a miracle from this supposed man of God.
    Alex marveled that Rasputin could find a following in the parlors of well-educated men and women. Deception, he decided, was not limited to the peasants. Something that Michael had written him in a recent letter jumped to his mind:
“When men do not receive the love of the truth, they are vulnerable to strong delusion.”
    Alex glanced at Tatiana. Her cheeks wore a pink flush.
She’s awed by his presence!
Alex made up his mind that he must confront her over this.
    Rasputin wore a dark, soiled tunic over peasant trousers bloused into scuffed boots. His long hair was drawn back and looked as unkempt as his beard. Women said his eyes were mesmerizing, that he had an ability to exert a bizarre force of will with them. Alex found them shrewd.
    “Curious,” Alex murmured to Fyodor. “Could he have learned the art of hypnotism? maybe on one of his pilgrimages?”
    “Perhaps,” he replied quietly. “I don’t trust him, but in St. Petersburg, one risks his career by saying so. My father is now one of several physicians to the Romanov family, so I must watch what I say.”
    “Oh! Then Dr. Zinnovy’s no longer head of admissions at the medical college?” Karena asked.
    “I believe he remains in charge until the end of the year. I’ve no notion who’ll take his place. Some say it will be a woman—Dr. Lenski,” Fyodor said stiffly. “She is his colleague and a friend of the countess.”
    “Dr. Lenski?”
    Alex looked at Karena, whose voice had revealed sudden excitement.
    “You sound as if you know her,” he said.
    “My mother knew her well. They were roommates during their studies. They’ve not seen each other in years, but I’m sure Dr. Lenski would remember.”
    “Then Madame Peshkova is a doctor?” Alex inquired.
    “I’m afraid not. She left the college to marry my father. She remains the village midwife and medical practitioner. I’ve been going with her onher calls since I was eight.” She smiled. “Do you wonder that I desire to enter medicine?”
    “A worthy ambition. So Madame Peshkova must have many old friends from St. Petersburg,” Alex said.
    “Oh yes, letters are frequently exchanged, though she has no time for visits. When Natalia and I were younger, we would go to the Roskov residence for Christmas festivities, but our parents remained in Kiev.”
    “Then Dr. Zinnovy must be a medical school friend of your mother, as well.”
    “He was one of her instructors.”
    “I see.”
    She looked at him, a