Little Bird

By Berrich36

1827 Russian Empire. Dmitry Skaryatin is a military naval officer who serves for the good of the Russian Empire and secretly carries out dangerous assignments of the Masonic order. A fearless, arrogant handsome man with a title and fortune, Dmitry is the desired dream of all unmarried noblewomen of St. Petersburg. Aglaya is the young daughter of a poor merchant from Kronstadt. Naive and gentle, the girl dreams of sincere big love. Once on the seashore, she unwittingly saves the wounded Skaryatin and falls madly in love with him. But will Dmitry be able to reciprocate the girl? Hardly. After all, he needs Aglaya only as a mistress, nothing more. Will Aglaya be able to come to terms with her position as a beautiful "toy " at the feet of Skaryatin? Or will he decide to find his happiness with another?
You can fall in love with the second and third time ... but the image of the first unique lover who deeply touched the heart when - it will be burned forever branded in the heart...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Berrich36
• Release date: Apr 9, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005196400

Berrich36

Writing books is one of the most delicious feelings I can imagine. Discovery, adventures, psychology, mystery, all is one story for your and my great pleasure. I was one of those lucky guy who was the happiest when the bad weather outside confined me in my bedroom, a book propped against my pillow. I forgot the real world, entering in a new one I was looking after. Little surprise that I went from reading words to writing them.

Book preview

Little bird

Annotation

1827 Russian Empire. Dmitry Skaryatin is a military naval officer who serves for the good of the Russian Empire and secretly carries out dangerous assignments of the Masonic order. A fearless, arrogant handsome man with a title and fortune, Dmitry is the desired dream of all unmarried noblewomen of St. Petersburg. Aglaya is the young daughter of a poor merchant from Kronstadt. Naive and gentle, the girl dreams of sincere big love. Once on the seashore, she unwittingly saves the wounded Skaryatin and falls madly in love with him. But will Dmitry be able to reciprocate the girl? Hardly. After all, he needs Aglaya only as a mistress, nothing more. Will Aglaya be able to come to terms with her position as a beautiful toy  at the feet of Skaryatin? Or will he decide to find his happiness with another? 

You can fall in love with the second and third time ... but the image of the first unique lover who deeply touched the heart when - it will be burned forever branded in the heart ...

English is not my native language, therefore there could be some mistakes. Nevertheless, I made efforts. Hope you will enjoy it!

Prologue. Dangerous mission

Water area of the Black Sea, near the coast of Abkhazia,

1827, May 3

The Russian military brig Mercury  made a skillful maneuver and found itself abeam at the high-speed brigantine, only a hundred meters away. The two-masted brigantine with dirty white sails, without identification marks, added speed and again set out to break away from the Russian warship. However, after a quarter of an hour the stern of the Mercury  was in front of the nose with a twist of a light brigantine, blocking its path.

- On the brigantine! Determine your affiliation, and under what flag are you going ?! - came the loud voice of Captain Stroinikov, who was standing on the upper deck of the Russian ship.  

A couple of minutes after a tense silence, in response, a strong cannon volley was heard from the brigantine. And in the direction of the Mercury  deadly cast-iron cannonballs flew, which cut the water surface next to the Russian ship, without touching it.

The military brig Mercury  carried out its difficult service in the Black Sea for several years. Its strategic task was to cruise off the coast of Abkhazia, and destroy poaching ships that violated the water border with the Russian Empire, supplying the Ottoman Empire with weapons and ammunition.

Dmitry Skaryatin, who was on the deck of the left side of the Russian military brig, narrowed his eyes slightly, carefully following the last enemy cannonball, which hit the starboard side of the Mercury , severely scratching the wooden skin of the ship. The young man grinned grimly and turned to midshipman Pritupov, who was standing next to him.

- Who would doubt their answer, - Dmitry remarked and mechanically shook off the salty spray from his military tunic with his hand. When the smoke cleared, Skaryatin noted that the sailors began to quickly and skillfully fill the gap in the starboard side of the ship.  

- To the left of the rudder! - came a quick order from Captain Stroynikov. And navigator Prokofiev, who was at the helm, deftly turned the ship on orders. - Full speed ahead. Get ready for a boarding attack!   

Dmitry crookedly bared his teeth towards the brigantine, putting his hand on the handle of the sword, and winked at Pritupov. The Russian brig came close to the brigantine, and received a new enemy salvo from the guns. This time Skaryatin and Pritupov were forced to quickly retreat into the ship, for the enemy core whizzed past them and fell into the water. Mercury  finally fired a return salvo at the brigantine, following the captain's next order to aim at the mast of the ship.

- Looks like that - something of value driven, - gloomy noticed Pritupov midshipman, addressing Skaryatin. Dmitry, nodding in response, quickly took out a long crooked knife, which he had once taken from a murdered Turk.  

 We’ll check it now,  Skaryatin threw him back, running towards the side of the ship. Seeing that the left side of the Mercury  squeezed against the brigantine's wooden paneling at a minimum distance, Dmitry jumped aboard the smuggling ship one of the first. He was followed by Pritupov and other sailors and officers. Skaryatin immediately repulsed the fatal blow, a skinny pirate who aimed a dagger at his heart. Throwing forward his hand with a crooked knife, Dmitry skillfully ripped open the pirate's shoulder with a cutting blow. The pirate screamed in unbearable pain and fell to the deck. The next moment, Skaryatin turned sharply at the sound of a shot, and a bullet whizzed over his ear. The dark-haired pirate who was shooting at him was stunned by Pritupov with the end of a powerful pistol. Skaryatin saluted the midshipman and rushed forward along the brigantine's deck, rushing to the wheelhouse.  

The boarding attack was swift. Half an hour later, the brigantine was in the hands of Russian sailors. There was no big bloodshed. For immediately several of the smuggler leaders were killed. The rest of the sailors surrendered the ship without a fight, offering almost no resistance. On the Russian side, there were only two lightly wounded sailors.

Leaving several dozen sailors under the leadership of midshipman Pritupov on the upper deck to move the captured smugglers to the Mercury , Stroynikov walked along the upper deck, noting whether the brigantine had received large holes. The captain intended to tow the captured ship to Sevastopol. So that after the renovation, he served under the flag of the Russian Empire.

After some time, Stroynikov ordered several sailors and two officers, including Skaryatin, to follow him to the lower deck for further inspection of the ship. Descending into the hold, the Russian team found a powder store with rifles, cannons and ammunition. It was from this place that they heard subtle human voices. Going further, to the end of the hold, the Russians noticed another door with locks. As soon as they broke the locks and entered the musty, damp room, they were surprised to find several dozen prisoners. A dozen women, about thirty men and a couple of children, were sitting right on the rotten, damp floor. The prisoners pressed against each other, and painfully squinted from the light of the torches, which were held in the hands of the Russians who entered.

Apparently not expecting salvation, the captives did not immediately understand what had happened. Only after a few phrases of Captain Stroinikov, that the prisoners had nothing to fear, because now the ship is under the protectorate of the Russian military department, several women burst into tears. Skaryatin and other crew members began to quickly free the prisoners from the iron chains with which they were chained to the side of the hold. The freed people, crying and confused in their speeches from fatigue and hunger, explained that they were being taken to Istanbul to be sold into slavery. Many of the captives spoke Slavic. Eighteen of them were citizens of Russia, including seven women with two young children.

Stroynikov, embarrassed by this whole picture of desperate people who now shouted wildly and hugged their saviors, said loudly:

- You are all free. We can take you to Sevastopol. From there you can head back to your native land. If it works out, the Russian naval department will give you clothes and some money for the first time. I will personally bother about it ... 

Russian Empire, Kotlin Island, Kronstadt,

1827, June 2, evening

They had been chasing him for a quarter of an hour, even from the northern water border of the city. Fiercely whipping his bay stallion with a whip, Dmitry turned around. As before, there were three pursuers. With a sullen grin, Skaryatin again turned his gaze forward. The edge of the cliff appeared unexpectedly. The dark Gulf of Finland, illuminated by the last rays of the red sun, made him chill. Apparently he made a mistake and turned into the wrong alley, and now, instead of hiding in the city, he drove back to the coast of the island. Having sharply besieged the stallion, so as not to fall down from the cliff, he realized that he would have to fight. Throughout the long journey from England, he managed to avoid a fight with his pursuers, for he perfectly understood that during a scuffle he could be wounded and then a valuable secret message could be in the hands of opponents. Therefore, having received clear instructions from the teacher, go incognito, and, if possible, avoid collisions with possible persecutors, Dmitry tried to follow the teacher's instructions all the way.

Instantly assessing the situation, and realizing that the bay is not the best place to hide, Skaryatin galloped to the side, hoping to find a flatter place to descend to the water. There, on the shore, he may be able to find a boat to sail away and break away from pursuit. After a few meters, he headlong directed his stallion down, not making out the road, clearly realizing that every moment brings his pursuers closer to him. His horse stumbling and almost falling, galloped down the cliff, and after a minute, Dmitry galloped along the rocky shore of the bay. Sharply lifting his head up, he noted that they were already on the edge of the cliff. Three black figures on horseback were clearly visible against the gloomy sky. He spurred his horse, seeing as one of them pulled out a pistol and took aim. Realizing that he was an excellent target, Skaryatin put his spurs into the horse in order to increase his gallop. Shots rang out. Immediately feeling that his shoulder was filled with unbearable pain, Dmitry gritted his teeth, tightening his grip on the reins. The next moment he felt the horse stumble. Unable to resist, he flew out of the saddle and collapsed onto the hard muddy sand, hitting hard with the reed. The stallion fell down next to him, and Skaryatin, shaking his head, immediately forced himself to get up, noting that the horse was mortally wounded. Shots rang out again. Feeling the dull pain from the bullet already in the ankle, Skaryatin fell to the ground again, losing consciousness for a few moments.

When he came to, they were already there. Turning on his back, Dmitry narrowed his eyes, seeing that they were standing over him. Their black-masked faces made him angry. He felt that now, wounded, he would clearly lose the battle. However, there was still a chance. Dmitry reached for the pistol hidden in the holster. As soon as he pulled out the weapon, he immediately received a painful blow to the arm. Dropping the pistol, he grinned like a beast, realizing that he was in their hands.

 A letter… one of them rapped out in a leaden voice. Skaryatin turned pale, but not a single muscle trembled on his face. He knew perfectly well what they wanted. - Give me the letter ... - Dmitry, slightly raised himself on his elbows, looked gloomily at them, and was silent. - Search him ... - the same one ordered.   

The second of them bent over him. And then he received a powerful punch in the face from Skaryatin. In response, Dmitry was severely hit on the head, apparently with the handle of a pistol, and he again lost consciousness. However, when he came to his senses and opened his eyes, he realized that they had already searched him and found nothing. Noting that the idea of dropping the words on the back of the jacket's buttons was a great idea from the teacher, he grinned viciously in the face of his opponents. He understood that they would not kill him until they found what they needed. And he prepared himself, straining his whole body.

In the next instant, one of the black-masked riders pulled out a knife, and with a full swing drove the blade of the blade into Skaryatin's thigh. Gritting his teeth, Dmitry held back an involuntary cry of pain, and only turned paler.

- Where is the message ... Speak! One of the men rasped.  

Looking with hatred in the eyes of the tormentor, Dmitry spat in his face.

Grinning viciously, the man in black, without removing the knife from the wound, turned it ninety degrees in Dmitry's thigh. From the unbearable pain Skaryatin had a cold sweat on his forehead. But neither with a gesture nor a word did he show how much it hurt. Only straining more and gathering strength, Skaryatin looked gloomily into the face of the enemy, who was bending over him. Abruptly moving away from Dmitry, the first pulled the knife from his thigh. Dmitry felt his thigh burning, like a burning fire.

 He won’t say… said the third, kicking Skaryatin in the stomach. Dmitry bent a little. 

- Then die ... - added the first, and pointed the barrel of a pistol at Skaryatin. 

 Someone is coming,  said the second, holding the hand of the first. - Do not shoot, they will hear.   

- Let's go, - said the third, looking for that - some of - for the bush. Looking at the Skaryatin sprawled in front of them, who was bleeding, looked at them angrily, he ordered the second. - Finish with him ...   

Two quickly went to the horses, and the third, left alone with Dmitry, abruptly pulled out a knife and raised it over the wounded. But Skaryatin, having gathered all his strength, threw out his hand forward and abruptly knocked the cold weapon out of the enemy's hand. The man swore and wanted to hit Dmitry, but Skaryatin kicked him in the thigh. The man staggered and fell to his knees from the force of the blow. In response, he struck Skaryatin two strong blows in the face, thereby stunning him. Dmitry, again for a moment, lost consciousness, prostrated himself on the dirty sand. And his opponent reached for the knife, which lay a few steps away from him. At that moment, an irritable exclamation was heard from the first, who was already on horseback.

- Let's go! Come here! Leave him alone! 

The third, casting a hateful glance at the Skaryatin lying motionless on the ground, quickly raised the knife. Limping, he hobbled to his horse as soon as possible and only the second time was he able to climb on it.

 He will bleed and die,  the first threw to one of his own, spurring his horse. - It is unlikely that he will be found in this bush.

The riders quickly galloped towards the cliff in order to hide from prying eyes as soon as possible.

Dmitri came to himself after some - at the time. Opening his eyes, he noticed that the tormentors had disappeared. Feeling that his right leg was all wounded and his shoulder was on fire, he gritted his teeth and lifted his head, trying to figure out where he was. He lay not far from the water, in small thickets of hazel, on the shore. Reaching out with his good hand, he felt his injured thigh. Looking at his hand, which was covered in blood, Skaryatin realized that he needed help, and as soon as possible. Otherwise, in an hour he will die of blood loss, because three wounds on his body were bleeding heavily. He tried to stand up on his elbows, but his strength left him and he again collapsed heavily on the sand, straight face down. Cursing, he realized with bitterness that he himself would not be able to rise. And hardly anyone - would see it in this deserted place on the bay. He closed his eyes a little and began frantically wondering what to do. His dim gaze involuntarily fell on the silver opal ring that was on his ring finger. White noble opal turned gray, as if anticipating his death.

Skaryatin remembered how eight years ago, he received this ring - an amulet from his teacher. The words of the mentor still sounded in Dmitry's ears:

"From this day on, you give the service lunch. Put this ring on your hand. From now on, it is a symbol of your service and obedience to us. Noble opal can only be worn by self-confident and strong people, because it is dangerous for the weak. But you are our secret servant, fearless and courageous, because this stone will only enhance your qualities and protect you ... You will be invulnerable to your enemies ... and you will be our secret messenger in Russia ...

However, according to the legend that came to us with this noble opal, there is a certain powerful warrior who can weaken the power of the stone. Light-haired, with black eyes and a mark in the form of the Latin letter S, this warrior is dangerous for opal, as well as for you, because from now on your life is connected with a stone. When this dangerous warrior approaches, the stone will change its color and turn black. You must run away from this fair-haired husband, because you will lose in a fight with him, and your service to us will be in jeopardy and not only ... This warrior has the power to take possession not only of your thoughts, but also to completely subjugate your essence to please himself ... "

And now the opal seemed to feel that Dmitry was dying, and now apparently could not protect him, for it began to darken. Dmitry realized that he needed to somehow climb the cliff again. For there the chance that they would find him was much greater. But there was no strength. He concentrated again and, gathering strength, tried to get up. He only managed to get up on his elbows.

It suddenly seemed to him that he hears a melodic song. Skaryatin strained his ears and shook his buzzing head. So it is, somewhere nearby a woman was singing. He slowly turned and crawled out of the thickets, closer to the water, at the sound of a pleasant voice. At the edge of a nearby rock, he saw the silhouette of a woman in a long, simple dress walking along the shore. Realizing that this was his last hope for salvation, Skaryatin gritted his teeth and crawled towards her with his last strength, closer to the water.

Each movement gave off a wild pain in his wounds, but Dmitry, with a fierce grin on his lips, crawled more and more, not taking his strained gaze from the figure of the woman who was walking along the shore in his direction. Almost losing consciousness, he leaned on his good arm, moving it forward, and pulled his body ...

Part one. Noble opal

I want to be the last woman, the final, the final, not spoken, but married, by the clear light of your abode ... 

Victoria Savitskaya

Chapter I. Angel

Russia, Kronstadt, 1827, June 2, evening

When Skaryatin came to his senses and opened his eyes, he saw a lovely girl's face above him. She bent over him, looking intently at him with huge velvet eyes, the color of dark walnut. The delicate, pretty features of her oval face, sensual lips, scarlet cheeks, soft eyes with a drag, light braids seemed impossibly beautiful to Dmitry to belong to an ordinary woman.

- Angel ... - he whispered, carefully looking at the stranger, who was staring at him. He was lying on the ground. Skaryatin tried to raise himself up, and his pain immediately returned to him. He groaned dully, clenching his jaw with tension. Without taking his eyes off the face of the girl in the white dress, he said. - Help me…  

The young man lost consciousness again and fell lifeless on the sand. Glasha gasped, thinking that he might have died. She impulsively bent lower over him, listening to his heart. Heavy painful breathing whistled through his parted mouth, and it calmed her a little. Throwing an interested look on his large motionless body in a dark military - marine uniform, she began to more carefully consider it. The jacket on his chest was covered in blood, as was his right leg. The slashed temple and the painful grin of his lips suggested that he was badly wounded.

His face is handsome, courageous, strong-willed, with hard high cheekbones, proud nose wings, attractive full lips, framed by black wavy hair, made her tremble all over. She could feel her heart why - then wildly bangs, and my throat was dry. She desperately wanted to help this stranger, whom she had found on the beach a few minutes earlier.

No longer hesitating, Glasha quickly got to her feet and, raising her skirts high so that they would not interfere, ran to the narrow path that led up to the cliff. Deftly climbing the uneven road to the top of the cliff, the girl ran further towards the first small huts, standing on the outskirts of the town. Less than a quarter of an hour later, she found herself on one of the central streets of the city, near a wooden two-story house. Having flown into her father's house, and ignoring the question of the old aunt Matryona, Glasha flew into the squalid living room with green faded curtains.

Her old father, sitting by the fireplace, warming his hands. It was evident that he had just returned from the shop, where he had been all day, and now he was leaning back tiredly in his chair, smoking a pipe.

- Father, we must help him! - exclaimed the girl, right from the doorway. Mikhail Yemelyanovich, frowned at his daughter.  

- Why are you wailing forty? He grumbled, not understanding why Aglaya's daughter was so excited.  

- He's injured, and may die! He must be taken to us, and the doctor should be called! The girl said in one breath, stopping opposite her father.  

- Who is he? - already displeased Kavelin asked.  

- Officer! I found him there, on the shore, "the girl blurted out, wringing her hands. - Rather, I ask you. We must harness the cart!   

" Was she staggering again somewhere? - muttered the father. - I already told you Aglaya to stay at home and help Matryona with the housework. And you again?   

- Father, you don’t understand, he’s going to die! - Glasha exclaimed.  

- And what then? What does it matter to me? I'm tired, and I want to have a quiet meal and rest, - he again turned away from the girl, and leaned back in a chair.  

Glasha stood nervously going over in her head the arguments that might have made her father help the wounded man. And then it dawned on her.

- He has valuable things, and a uniform made of expensive fabric. He must be a nobleman. Father, you need money. I think he would pay you generously if we helped him, "the girl blurted out. Kavelin turned his gaze back at his daughter and narrowed his eyes.  

 You say he looks like a nobleman? He asked incredulously.  

Yes, yes,  nodded Aglaya. Mikhail Yemelyanovich looked at his daughter for a long time and only a minute later shouted: 

- Roly! - Kavelin's second cousin has appeared. A tall, angular guy with red hair. - Harness the cart. You will go with Glashka to the sea. There is an officer wounded. She will show you. Bring him to us. Yes, Matryona was led to run after the doctor.   

- Thank you father! - Glasha exclaimed and, almost impolitely pushing Vanka to the exit, disappeared with him from the living room.  

Glasha's father was a merchant of the third guild. He kept a hardware store in the next house, and spent all his days there. Kavelin had no sons, only two daughters, Natalya and Aglaya. The late wife of Kavelin, Alina Sergeevna, came from a family of poor, ruined nobles. Only because - for the needs of marrying Michael Emelyanovich Alina S., Glasha's mother, suffered a lot of injustice from her husband. Mother Glasha was beautiful, sophisticated, well-educated, and as a girl she even visited high society. However, Kavelin, being down to earth and narrow-minded, could not appreciate Alina. Obviously taking advantage of the situation when Alina's father was in debt, he persuaded her to marry. Yes, Mikhail Emelyanovich loved Alina, and at first he was even afraid to touch his beautiful wife, who was too good for him. However, he soon began to demand a reciprocal feeling from her. But Alina Sergeevna could not fall in love with a simple nondescript merchant - a merchant. Kavelin was angry, constantly being out of sorts, for Alina Sergeevna remained cold to him. When their girls, Natalya and Aglaya, were born, named by exquisite noble names at the request of Alina Sergeevna, Kavelin was indignant again. He wanted sons, and daughters were of no use to him. For his business, the hardware store, was to be handed over to his son. In addition, the doctor said that Alina Sergeevna would not be able to give birth anymore, and Kavelin finally hated his wife.

Glasha's mother did not live long in marriage. When the girls were fifteen and thirteen, she died of a heart attack. However, during these fifteen years, she was close to her daughters, Alina S. could, despite her husband's displeasure educate girls - his. She taught them to read, speak - French, singing, even dancing a little bit. Unbeknownst to her husband, she bought them beautiful underwear, taught them how to speak beautifully, and behave at the table, as it should be in high society. She always said:

- A true woman should always remain refined and refined, even if she lives in a hut. 

All these lessons and customs that Alina Sergeevna instilled in her daughters strongly disliked Mikhail Yemelyanych. For he believed that a simple girl, the daughter of a merchant, did not need to know French and music. Natasha and Aglaya adored their tender, sad mother and obeyed her in everything, sometimes even in defiance of their father.

After the death of Alina Sergeevna, Kavelin's temper became even angrier. That is why the eldest Natalya, only she turned sixteen, and barely turned up a suitable groom, a titular adviser from Moscow, quickly left her father's house. And Glasha, although she was much more beautiful than her sister, still sat in girls. The father now and then forced his twenty-year-old daughter to choose a groom, but Aglaya insisted that none of the neighboring guys liked her.

Now in the house of Kavelin, Matryona, the old aunt of Mikhail Yemelyanovich, who helped Glasha with the housework, and his second cousin, Ivan, still lived. For lack of sons, Kavelin persuaded his sister from Kaluga to stick one of his five sons to him, so that after his death, he would transfer his business to him. Ivan is a lanky, nondescript guy with a dull look, clearly wanted to please his uncle and unquestioningly obeyed him in everything. Kavelin, however, pleased that he had finally found a successor, treated Ivan almost like a son.

When Ivan and his friend Peter, groaning, carried the wounded Skaryatin into the hut, putting him on a bench, Kavelin critically examined the soldier. By the expensive jacket made of good-quality cloth and the weapons that he had with him, Mikhail Yemelyanovich determined that the officer was clearly not from a simple class. The idea immediately arose in the merchant's head that he could make good money, as his daughter had predicted for him.

At first, the wounded man, who was still unconscious, was left on the bench until the doctor arrived. Then the zemstvo doctor, after hours of manipulation, pulled out the bullets from the patient's shoulder and lower leg, and with the help of Glasha, washed the young man from the blood and bandaged it. The unconscious Skaryatin was put on Ivan's long shirt, and transferred to a small room next to the living room. The officer never regained consciousness, and soon he developed a fever.

Almost all the following night the patient was delirious and tossed and turned in bed, that - something unintelligible whispering. Glasha, whom her father allowed to look after the wounded, wiped his face with a cold wet rag and made sure that the young man did not fall out of bed. The next morning Skaryatin forgot himself in a heavy sleep, and began to snore loudly. Glasha, noting that the officer was clearly better, because his body was no longer burning so much, went to her room to rest, and took a nap for several hours.

Then all day the girl was busy around the house, every now and then looked into the room to the wounded officer, checking if he had regained consciousness. Around noon, the doctor came again, to whom Kavelin had paid five rubles for a visit, and said that the patient was likely to survive, thanks to his strong physique and excellent health. Leaving, the doctor noticed that he would come for dressings every day.

Only in the evening did Skaryatin come to his senses. Having barely heard the creak of the bed through the open door, Glasha hurried to the wounded man. As she approached the young man and bent over him, bright blue eyes, expressive and impossibly attractive, stared into her. The girl was immediately embarrassed and looked down. She quickly pulled away from the wounded man and, fussing, wet a rag, bringing it to Skaryatin's face.      

- And I, it was, thought that you saw me, - grimacing from severe pain in his thigh, said Dmitry, not taking his eyes off the charming girl, who was wiping his face with a damp cloth. Her hair was pulled back into two thick braids that were skillfully wrapped around her head. The very unusual attractive beauty of the young girl was extremely interested in Dmitry.  

The doctor ordered you to be silent, Your Honor,  said Aglaya, embarrassed by his persistent appraising glance.  

- Where are my clothes? He asked hoarsely, trying to get up.  

- I washed it. She's on the bench here, "the girl explained, pointing to a neatly folded uniform, pants and shirt.  

- Well ... - the patient whispered with relief and again leaned back on the pillow, feeling that his body was like one continuous wound. However, his eyes nevertheless persistently described circles over the girl who was bustling next to him. 

Finally, she walked away from him, removing the bowl of water, and rushed into the upper room, which was behind the half-open door. Dmitri watched the girl look, already through the open door as she moved around the room, that - that cleared the table. His tenacious gaze noted the slender seductive body of the girl, and the attractive tilt of her blonde head. A simple gray sundress without embellishments, a white shirt with wide sleeves, clearly did not adorn it. However, she felt the breed, exquisite grace, as if she was here by chance in this wretched environment. Her movements, smooth, sensual and inviting, involuntarily attracted Dmitry's eyes. She was slightly above average height, with slender arms and rounded shoulders. The narrow waist stood out distinctly in comparison to her rounded hips, which were visible under the skirt.

At one - the moment the blonde charmer disappeared from his concerned look, and Dimitri winced aching pain, about which for a time forgotten, studying the girl. Glasha appeared on the threshold of his small room again and asked:

- Maybe you want to eat? The cabbage soup is ripe, and the fish pie is ready. 

Dmitry completed the study of the girl standing in front of him, noting that her breasts were rather bulging and high. Smiling broadly at her, he said:

- Perhaps, I will taste the cabbage soup with pleasure. 

Glasha was embarrassed by his burning impudent look, and quickly hurried to the stove. A few minutes later, she helped Dmitry sit up in bed, slightly raising the pillows. And then she held the bowl to his face so that he could eat rich cabbage soup with his good hand. For the seriously wounded, Skaryatin had an excellent appetite, and Dmitry asked for more supplements. After eating, he wearily leaned back on the pillow, but did not lie down, but leaned on his hand. Seeing that the girl hurried to the room with an empty bowl, he called out to her:

- Thank you, caring bird ... 

Glasha turned abruptly and looked at him in dismay. The insidious and impossibly attractive smile on the handsome face of the young man completely embarrassed her, and she dropped the bowl from her hands. Fortunately, the bowl was wooden and did not break. Glasha gasped and immediately lifted her off the floor. However, Dmitry, clearly noticing the girl's embarrassment, nevertheless continued his inviting speech:

- As far as I understand, it is you that I owe my salvation? - Glasha stupidly clutching an empty bowl to her white shirt, slowly nodded. I knew that such a charming creature must necessarily be kind,  Skaryatin said in a chesty voice and smiled at her again. Glasha began to back away to the door, feeling trembling in her legs, and feeling that her cheeks were burning from his gaze. - Dmitry Petrovich Skaryatin, - he introduced himself, slightly tilting his head. - Can I find out the name of my savior? - asked Dmitry affectionately, without taking an interested look from her face.        

Glasha's dry throat did not allow her to speak normally, and she whispered with her lips:

- Aglaya Mikhailovna ... 

Frowning, Dmitry asked again:

- How sorry, I did not hear? 

 Aglaya Mikhailovna,  the girl answered, clearing her throat, in a more confident voice. In order to avoid further questions from the officer, she quickly retreated upon hearing that her father had returned home.  

Dmitry regretfully followed the girl with a glance, squinting, and turned his attention to the wounded hand. He tried to lift it, but felt a sharp pain in his shoulder. Gritting his teeth so as not to moan, he lowered his hand and closed his eyes.

As soon as Skaryatin appeared in the Kavelins' house, Glasha's life changed. Now, in the morning, she took a long time to tidy herself up, carefully tucked her hair into braids around her head, put on her best skirts and blouses, which she usually wore on church holidays, constantly biting her lips to make them brighter, and generally began to constantly look in the mirror ... And all because she really wanted the young officer to notice her beauty and perhaps turn his attention to her. Of course, Glasha understood that she had little chance of attracting this exquisite, wealthy, courageous attractive and slightly arrogant nobleman. After all, the girl was well aware that she was just the daughter of a merchant. But still, her heart pounded wildly, as soon as she approached the young man. And his throat was dry only from one look of his deep blue eyes.

Glashenka had never experienced anything like this before. Confessions of love from the neighbors' guys never bothered her, and she quickly forgot the signs of attention of other men, because they were all indifferent to her. That is why the whole street was gossiping about the beauty and coldness of Kavelin's merchant daughter. And until now, until the age of twenty, none of the suitors managed to win the favor of Glasha.

And now the girl for the first time felt how her heart was filled with an absorbing passionate feeling of love for the wounded officer whom she found on the shore of the bay. In the first days, Glasha did not understand what was happening to her,