“Some of the new guards here are Hungarian or Lithuanian; you’ve probably heard their foreign accents,” he said. “But I am a local man, a Russian through and through.”

“Where have the other guards gone?” she asked, since he seemed to expect a response. “The ones who were here before?” She hadn’t seen Peter Vasnetsov for several days.

“Some of them are guarding the exterior but they are not allowed up to the family quarters anymore. We will be here instead.” He gave her a knowing look that made her uncomfortable, and she wondered if he had heard about her being caught with Ivan.

“I hope you will be happy,” she said, walking past.

He was still there later when she went to the bathroom to wash before bed. She intended to walk straight past with a nod, but he asked if she had enjoyed her dinner so it seemed only polite to stop.

“There was chicken tonight, and our chef managed to make a very palatable sauce. Have you eaten?”

“We also had chicken in the guards’ dining room. How have you and your family spent the evening?”

She didn’t like his impertinence, but felt she had no choice but to reply. “I have been trying to draw a honeysuckle flower but I’m not sure I have captured the delicate intricacy of the head and stamens.”

“I’m sure it is beautiful,” he replied. “I would love to see your drawing sometime.”

“I am partial to sketching flowers,” she explained, “but there are not many in the yard here. If you ever come across a flower outside, I would be most grateful if you could bring it to me so I have more specimens to draw.”

Bolotov colored. “I would be honored,” he said with a bow. She hoped he did not attach any great importance to her request.

He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out something gold in color. “I found this on the landing earlier. Perhaps it belongs to one of your family?”

“Goodness! It’s my Fabergé box! Mama would have been very cross if I had lost it.” She held out her hand for it, but Bolotov wouldn’t let go.

“I couldn’t work out how to open it. Is there a secret?” he asked.

Maria felt extremely uncomfortable now and wanted to move away, but she felt she had no choice but to show him the clever mechanism. Their heads were so close they were almost touching, and her fingers brushed his palm as she took the box, demonstrated how it opened, then slipped it into her pocket.

“Excuse me. I must wash now,” she said, stepping past.

She opened the bathroom door and was about to close it behind her when she felt something blocking it and turned to see Bolotov at her heels.

“What are you doing?” she asked, keeping her voice low lest anyone should hear.