taste to which she'd been born, and added her own touches to the house on Sutton Place. It had an aura of quiet peace and exquisite beauty that everyone talked about. They had sold the brick mansion on Fifth Avenue long since, and for the most part, hired new servants.
And on the day Alexis Romanov, dear sweet Baby, would have become seventeen, their first child was born, a son. The delivery went easily and well, and he was a lusty eight-pound boy who sent up his first cry like a flare, as his father paced nervously outside their bedroom.
Zoya was almost asleep, with the tiny cherub in her arms, when Clayton finally saw her. The baby had his mother's red hair, and a round face, as he lay wrapped in lace, and tears of joy ran slowly down Clayton's cheeks as he saw him.
“Oh, he's so beautiful … he looks just like you …”
“Only the hair,” she whispered sleepily. The doctor had given her something to make her drowsy, and she looked dreamily up at her husband, “He has your nose.” It looked like a tiny rosebud in the angelic face as Clayton laughed, and stroked the silky red hair, and then Zoya looked up at him, her eyes pleading in silent question. “May we call him Nicholas?”
“If you like.” He liked the name, and he knew how much it meant to her. It was both the Tsar's name, and her dead brother's.
“Nicholas Konstantin …” she whispered, looking down at him happily, and then she fell asleep, as her adoring husband watched her and then tiptoed from the room, grateful for all life's gifts. After all these years, he had a son … a son! Nicholas Konstantin Andrews. It had a nice ring to it, he laughed to himself, as he hurried downstairs to pour himself a glass of champagne.
“To Nicholas!” he toasted as he stood alone in the room, and then with a smile,“… to Zoya!”
CHAPTER
30
The next few years flew on angels’ wings, filled with people and excitement and parties. Zoya bobbed her hair, which horrified him, she discovered cigarettes, and then decided they looked foolish. Cecil Beaton wrote about her constantly, and about their famous parties at the house they built for the summers on Long Island.
They saw Nijinsky's last performance in London, and Zoya grieved when she heard that he had gone mad and been committed to an institution in Vienna. But the ballet was no longer a part of her life, except for performances they occasionally attended with the Vanderbilts or the Astors. They attended polo matches, receptions, balls, and gave a number of their own, and the only time she slowed down at all was in 1924, when she again found out she was pregnant. The Prince of Wales had just been to Long Island to visit them, after attending the polo match there. She felt quite ill this time, and Clayton hoped that meant she was having a girl. At fifty-two, he yearned to have a daughter.
She was born in the spring of 1925, the same year that Josephine Baker became the rage in Paris.
And Clayton's heart leapt with joy when he first saw the baby. She had the same fiery red hair as her mother and brother Nicholas, and she made her presence known to her admirers at once. She cried the moment her commands weren't obeyed, and she was the apple of his eye from the moment she was born. Alexandra Marie Andrews was christened in the christening gown that had been in Clayton's family for four generations. It had been made in France during the War of 1812, and she looked like one of the imperial duchesses when she wore it.
Her hair was the color of her mother's, but her eyes were Clayton's, and her personality was her own. By the time she was two, she was in command of even her brother. Nicky, as he was called, had the gentleness of his father, and the lively humor that Zoya's own brother had had. He was a child everyone admired and loved, most especially his mother.
But Sasha, by the time she was four, had her father wrapped around the proverbial little finger. And even ancient Sava ran in terror when she was angry. The dog was twelve, and was still with them, ever at Zoya's heels when she was in the house, or with little Nicky, whom she had adopted.
“Sasha!” Her mother exclaimed in despair, as she came home to find