Laces of Love Read online

  Laces Of Love

  Olga Kryuchkova

  Translated by Iana Goncharuk

  “Laces Of Love”

  Written By Olga Kryuchkova

  Copyright © 2019 Olga Kryuchkova

  All rights reserved

  Distributed by Babelcube, Inc.

  www.babelcube.com

  Translated by Iana Goncharuk

  Cover Design © 2019 Paul Émile Vernon

  “Babelcube Books” and “Babelcube” are trademarks of Babelcube Inc.

  LACES OF LOVE

  Annotation

  The “Laces of Love” collection includes Olga Kryuchkova's famous novels such as:

  “The Gift of Aphrodite”

  “Family Silver Cross”

  “Mysteries of Fate”

  “The Cupid’s Apple”, formerly known as “The Lucky Choice”

  The actions of the novels take place in Russia in the 19th century. The heroines are charming young women who seek to win their place under the sun and find true love, despite all the obstacles, trials and dizzying adventures that destiny sends them.

  The novels are written in an entertaining and easy vaudeville style.

  Contents

  THE GIFT OF APHRODITE

  MYSTERIES OF FATE

  FAMILY SILVER CROSS

  THE CUPID’S APPLE

  THE GIFT OF APHRODITE

  Prologue

  Warm spring weather, not typical for the end of March, was pursuing Akinfius Gerasimovich Odarchenko, the third guild merchant, from the very border of France, where he happened to purchase a batch of Burgundy and Anjou wine and the finest oysters from famous Languedoc[1].

  On one hand, the warm weather and sunshine was really pleasant, of course: the snow started to melt earlier than it used to, the birds were singing their songs, and the soul desired love. On the other hand, the roads became completely out of order, even European ones, not to mention the impassibility of Russian roads.

  But if you could travel through the clean Europe somehow, merchant Odarchenko had a lot of troubles on the territory of the Russian Empire. As if it wasn’t enough that his cart got stuck in squelching liquid manure, the sun was bugging him. It looked like it was tempting the merchant to stop for a while, have a little rest and a couple shots of vodka with pickled cucumbers and salted cabbage...

  And Akinfius Odarchenko couldn’t resist it; he surrendered to the mercy of destiny and the occasion, arriving in the Bryansk province, which was a stone’s throw from Kaluga. Entering the hostelry, the merchant ordered everybody to have a rest. The charioteers, his assistants, were glad, they didn’t expect such an excessive heat and were dressed for winter, and all this road madness led them to an absolute delirium. They became wicked, dreaming only of the only thing: to take off their clothes, to bathe in Russian banya[2] and to have some vodka shots, or at least some kvass or mead.

  The merchant inspected all three carts once again, checking the goods: wine cases were straight in a raw, covered with an old bearskin. This bearskin caused sincere admiration of local border guards when he was crossing the French border in Pontarlier[3].

  “Ah, damn French! They know how to pack the goods, bastards!” the merchant remarked with a pleasure.

  Then he approached the third cart, where a special sort of rare Languedoc oysters, grown in the waters of the Mediterranean Sea, was “traveling” in a barrel. Akinfius opened the barrel, making sure that the layer of ice, covering the valuable product, didn’t melt and it would allow delivering the Languedoc gifts safely to Count Astafyev’s residence near Kaluga.

  The merchant wrapped up a barrel with a thick cotton blanket, so that it wouldn’t let unwelcome spring heat to spoil his goods. He intended to deliver wines and oysters on time because commitment of this order would allow going on supplying Count Astafyev with the delicacies and wines from France.

  Akinfius took off his hat, wiped his sweaty forehead, and allowed himself to dream a little, “I won’t let down the Count, and then his friends from Kaluga will reach out to me: saying, Odarchenko, bring the delicacies for us as well... And I can hire people and stop hanging out on the roads anymore, but lead the business from the office. And then expanding the business will possibly take me to the second guild! "

  With these thoughts, merchant Odarchenko proceeded to the open doors of the inn, looking back once again, to ensure that the carts are in the shade, and the goods are all protected from the sun in a proper way.

  The charioteers followed the merchant. He sat at a free table, with a wave of his hand inviting his staff. A middle-aged mistress appeared in a dirty linen apron.

  “Sweetheart!” the merchant called her. “We have come a long way: all through the whole Europe! What special treat do you have for us?”

  The mistress shrugged her shoulders, “Have you really traveled through the whole Europe? You, probably, have seen foreigners then?”

  The merchant and the charioteers laughed out loud.

  “Yes, that’s true. Muslims, they are in Turkey, or elsewhere. In Europe people are intelligent and noble, mostly Catholics. They are similar to us, Orthodox, but they take the sign of the cross with two fingers, and their women go to the church without headscarves.”

  “Oh, what a sin...To enter church without a headscarf!” the mistress took the sign of the cross.

  Akinfius nodded.

  “Feed us faster, mistress, as the sun burns mercilessly. And early in the morning we need to move forward, as I am afraid for the goods not to be spoilt.”

  “And what are you transporting, kind gentlemen? Or is it a secret?” the curious woman couldn’t stop.

  Suddenly, the owner appeared.

  “Praskovya, enough of braid talks with the merchants, you’d better feed them.”

  At last, the woman asked, “What would you like to eat?”

  Akinfius quacked like a duck in anticipation of his favorite delicious food.

  “Borscht for all of us, steamed buckwheat, pickles, salted cabbage, a lot of bread and a flask of vodka.”

  The charioteers exchanged happy glances.

  “Thank you, Master...”

  “What is really there?” the merchant waved his hand. “I wish we could deliver all these oysters fresh and safe... and not to become stale while we are on our way. Alright, let’s have a bite quickly, rest, and be back on our way again.”

  The mistress showed up, carrying a pot of borscht, followed by a girl with plates and spoons.

  “Enjoy your dinner, dear guests!”

  “Thank you!” answered the merchant and, crossing his mouth, had a shot of vodka, after which he began to savor a rich borsch with a piece of bread. The charioteers followed his example.

  The merchant convoy spent the night in the inn, Akinfius and his charioteers were sleeping with unattainable sleep - tiredness and vodka did their job. But the spring didn’t drowse even at night, slightly melting the ice in a barrel with oysters.

  In the morning, after good sleep, the satisfied merchant stepped out of the inn into the backyard. The sun was rising, it was the smell of freshness, melted snow in the air, the one that makes all living things spring up in the spring and reach out to each other.

  Akinfius approached the cart with the "foreign delicacy" to check its safety. And what was his astonishment and indignation when he discovered that the top layer of ice had melted.

  “Ah, damn it!” he cursed. “We didn’t make it!”

  The charioteers rushed to their benefactor.

  “What, Master, what happened?”

  “Oh! The heat has affected these French snails! It must be foul! What should I do now?” the merchant was lamenting.

  “Wait, Master, let's check...” the young charioteer opened the barrel and nosed, trying to catch the smell. “It’s fine; nothing will happen to them, a little bit stinky, not a big deal... Don’t you worry, Master. The Count’s cook will not probably notice the smell.”

  “Oh, Mother of God! Is it possible not to notice that?” the merchant was surprised.

  “Easily: look, Master,” the charioteer shoved both hands into the barrel. “Now we shift the oysters from top to bottom, and everything will be alright. No one will notice, hopefully...”

  At last, the merchant’s convoy reached the Kaluga province. After three hour drive along the champing forest road, they caught a sight of the Count's fields and the estate with a small church next to it majestically towering on the hill.

  Akinfius took the sign of the cross.

  “Here is Astafyevo-Khlynskoye... God, help me!” he begged. “Please don’t let the Count's cook and superintendent notice or smell anything wrong. And I swear, Lord, I will go to the church, I'll buy the candles, the most expensive ones, and I will donate money... What else?” the merchant was thinking. “Well, in the word of God, I will do many other good things...” he finished his prayer.

  God heard the merchant’s prayer: the cook did not notice the specific smell of the oysters, and the superintendent finally paid him for delivering goods on time.

  ***

  Chapter 1

  Kaluga, 1832

  The dueling of lieutenant Korneyev with ensign Yartsev, fortunately, did not end in a fatal denouement, but just in an injury with an epee in the right shoulder. However, the consequences for the lieutenant, who won the dueling, and I should say, he was an excellent fencer, turned out to be very sad.

  For this committed offense, Korneyev was expelled from the household troops of the Semyonovsky regiment, where he had served for several
years, and was sent to the Seventeenth Hussar regiment, located near Kaluga, in a small village of Krasnoye Gorodische. In one word, it was the end of the Earth. And, as Korneyev found out shortly, there were plenty of fellows like him in the regiment.

  There was the only one thing that made him calm: the consequences could have been much worse. As they say: everything that happened – happened to the will of Lord and the military authorities. The lieutenant accepted his transfer to the Kaluga wilderness courageously, being too shy to ask for help from his all-powerful uncle, who had considerable connections in St. Petersburg.

  Three months later lieutenant Konstantin Korneyev got used to provincial life. There was less champagne and it wasn't French, but produced in Kaluga and bottled at the distillery of one local Count, however, it was not bad and even decent, and our hero knew his sparkling drink.

  Soon Konstantin noticed that women of the Kaluga province were also cute and pretty, but frankly speaking, silly fools. There was no choice though - it wasn't Moscow or St. Petersburg. However, plenty goofy ladies live in the capitals, too.

  So lieutenant Korneyev had straightened, as they say, “bulged his chest" and enjoyed life again.

  ***

  The Hussar regiment did not boast the best-known discipline. The commander of the regiment was openly lazy and neglected his professional duties in every possible way, spending time at the card table or in the institution of Madame Juju, the Kaluga scale Venus.

  Madame Juju, Evdokia Zhukova, according to the passport – that’s where “Juju” came from - had been keeping a small institution in Kaluga for five years now. The place was revered mostly by the whole seventeenth hussar regiment.

  Young Casanovas, tormented by boredom and idleness (thanks God, no military actions were foreseen for the regiment in 1832) burned their youth in the arms of Madame Juju’s girls, and regularly left banknotes at the card table.

  Once, Konstantin Korneyev and his few friends from the regiment were riding back from Madame Juju’s cheerful place. They were not in a hurry, moving along the central street, lavishing fiery gazes at young local ladies. Ladies, in their turn, ogled at hussars. According to Kaluga statistics, every young lady in the city, being single, was dreaming of getting married a handsome hussar.

  So, making their serene path, the hussars, fully satisfied in the institution of Evdokia Zhukova, were in a wonderful mood, and everything seemed a continuous “charmant”[4] to them.

  The cab with a folding top drove past them. A pretty young lady was inside, dressed after the latest spring fashion in the capital: a fine terracotta coat, a brown cape trimmed to match the dress and a wide-brimmed hat to protect the face of the girl from the bright spring sun, and this spring, I should say, turned out to be early and surprisingly warm.

  Lieutenant Korneyev looked at the young lady and ... was stunned: what a beauty!

  The chariot proceeded further, and the hussars did not fail to make fun of their friend,

  “What is it, lieutenant? Do you find her to be pretty?”

  “Yes, she is just lovely, even in the capital you cannot find such a beauty!” Korneyev exclaimed enthusiastically.

  The hussars laughed amicably.

  “Lieutenant, you really have lost the habit of capital life, if you see beauty in every pretty lady!” one of them noted.

  “But, sir, let me disagree!” another hussar objected. “Obviously, this girl is from a respectable family, perhaps even a noble woman, and, unfortunately, she will not provide the services that we use to get at Madame Juju’s institution.”

  Korneyev said nothing more, as he agreed with his brother - soldier: you can do nothing with this girl but marry her, however...

  ***

  From the very day when lieutenant Korneyev saw "a young lady in a broad-brimmed hat from a respectable family", he lost his peace. He felt awkward to admit to his friends that the stranger had struck his imagination - they would certainly laugh and blame him for excessive romanticism. As one of hussars said, “Mon Cher[5], this is a continuous "Bayrovshchina[6]"!

  Gradually lieutenant Korneyev became bored and spent the middle of April yearning in anticipation of the coming miracle. And strangely enough, it happened...

  One of these fine April days, when the sun burned mercilessly like if it was July, lieutenant Korneyev rode to Kaluga downtown, just to spend his time, which he had plenty of, considering the absence of proper discipline in the regiment.

  His attention was attracted by the young lady who reminded him that pretty stranger. She was absorbed by the dress displayed in the fashion store window. Over the exquisite outfit there was a plaque: the latest style from Paris...

  “Yes right," the lieutenant thought. "How could the French style outfits appear here? Surely, it is all sewn in a local tailor’s...”

  Suddenly, his thoughts about the discrepancy between the price tag and the dress were interrupted. The maid, or the companion came up to the lady and the name of the object of his longed-for dreams came to Korneyev: Natalia Dmitrievna...

  The hussar was sure: in front of him there was the girl who had struck him with her beauty, and now he knew her name. But what was the benefit? The lieutenant did not know...

  Natalya Dmitrievna entered the fashion store. Korneyev dismounted from his horse, approached a florist and bought a huge bouquet of roses, probably grown in the greenhouse at this time of the year. The florist lady was surprised.

  “Sir, are you going for the wedding?”

  Korneyev was lost: really, what was he thinking? He himself did not know exactly if he should act with Natalia Dmitrievna in a military way, as when capturing the fortress. She wouldn’t stand the force and, maybe, would give up... Or maybe not...Well, let it be in God’s grace.

  The lieutenant didn’t have to wait for the object of his desire for long, soon Natalia Dmitrievna walked out of the shop; her companion was carrying a hat box. Korneyev understood: this is the moment to act!

  He rushed to Natalya Dmitrievna and, kneeling down, presented the flowers with a theatrical gesture, terrified and being ready for the "lady of his heart" to be outraged, or even worse - to be calling for help of a local policeman. To be honest, the local policeman sluggishly reacted to the hussars’ tricks; the respectable servant of the order was quite tired of those ones.

  Natalia Dmitrievna looked amazed and frankly confused, not knowing how to react to such a daring behavior, especially in front of the passersby. The audience, that was witnessing the scene, stopped frozen, wishing to see the whole charm of the subsequent denouement. And it did not fail to follow.

  “Mademoiselle,” Korneyev began in a tone, as if it was a bad play. “Natalia Dmitrievna, I am begging you, do not banish me! I did not know how to get acquainted with you, because whatever I did would seem indecent. That's why I dared to act boldly. Please, accept these flowers... They are surely not as beautiful as you are... But, unfortunately, that's all I can present you at the moment...”

  The audience started whispering, the women and young ladies were touched, “Oh, Mon Cher, how handsome and romantic he is...”

  Standing on his knees, Korneyev was terrified. "Right now she will feel offended, scream and scold, and will be right – I behaved like a fool,” he thought.

  But the reaction of Natalia Dmitrievna was really unexpected: she laughed loudly. The crowd, watching this love scene, now relaxed, realizing that the girl had accepted the courtship of the hussar.

  “Sir, you have really amazed me!” the beauty exclaimed. “It is so unexpected... Glasha,” she said to her companion, who was frozen in horror due to what had happened, "take flowers from the gentleman... And, what's your name? Yes, and rise from your knees, at last, the entire Kaluga is watching us.”

  Korneyev stood up; confused Glasha took flowers from him.

  “I am Konstantin Vladimirovich Korneyev; I serve in the Seventeenth Hussar Regiment, which is quartered in the Red Fortress.”