A Tangle of Serpents, page 25
The warmth that lit in his eyes set her own vital organ hammering inside her chest. Sliding her hand across the scarred wood, she twined her fingers with his.
The intimate moment soon gave way to more urgent demands, as Constantina darted through the doorway to join them, with Paloma right behind her. “Thank heavens you are back safely, my dear! Sir Augustus—”
“Has been apprehended,” assured Arianna. “Tomas is holding him prisoner at the rendezvous spot until we can arrange for him to be interrogated.”
“It needs to be done by Wellington’s intelligence operatives,” said Grentham. He emerged from the corridor—holding hands with Sophia, noted Arianna.
She ducked her head to hide a smile.
“No one will dare question the duke’s integrity,” continued Grentham, “so the information he passes on to the government should help convince them of the true culprits in all this.”
“Even if we don’t wrench a confession from Sir Augustus, we’ve amassed enough other evidence to prove your innocence,” said Saybrook.
“At no small risk to all of you,” responded the minister.
“I was just about to add that,” quipped Saybrook. “You have the ladies to thank. If the choice had been left to me, it might have been a different story.”
“That goes without saying.”
“Men,” huffed Sophia. And yet she kept Grentham’s hand clasped in hers.
“Enough verbal fencing!” announced the dowager. “I demand to know all that has happened tonight—and what the devil it all portends.” She took up the last of the pastries. “But first, Arianna should make some hot chocolate, for I have a feeling we will be here for some time.”
The chocolate duly brewed, along with a pot of coffee, Arianna added a fresh array of confections to the table and then resumed her seat. “It seems to me that Sandro should start, as it was his summons to Wellington’s headquarters that began the action.”
“Very well.” He steepled his fingers. “The duke had made yet another unexpected foray to review an army encampment, so it took Leete and me some time to find him. Thankfully, he believed my story and we immediately began the logistics of alerting the Tsar’s entourage of the threat and diverting his route. He also took the precaution of setting up a surveillance of the bridge, though it was agreed not to make any move until Orlov was spotted, so we could catch him in the act.”
His mouth thinned. “It never occurred to me that he would let his personal hatred of Arianna overcome his political ambitions.”
“The depths of his depravity know—knew—no limit,” muttered Constantina.
“There’s really little for me to add after that,” went on the earl. “Once Grentham and Fitzroy arrived, we dispatched Fitzroy and Leete to take command of the bridge surveillance, and when I got your message about Sir Augustus, it seemed reasonable to leave dealing with him until the morning. Ensuring the Tsar’s safety was our primary mission, and as you know, Alexander can be mercurial, so it took all of our powers of persuasion to convince him the danger was real.”
“Why was the Tsar a target?” asked Sophia. “I thought—”
“We’ll get to that in a moment,” said Grentham. “Allow me to take up the story. Having discovered the assassination plot, Lady Marone-Cinzano and I were keeping a careful watch on Orlov, hoping he would lead us to the ringleader. She received a last-minute warning from one of her informants about his ruse, so I raced to the montagne-russe, hoping to avert disaster.”
“Which you did in the nick of time,” said Sophia.
Deciding the less time the men had to dwell on the deadly perils she and Sophia had faced, the better, Arianna quickly continued the chronology by giving Saybrook and Grentham an account of Orlov’s attack, taking care to gloss over all but the bare-bones facts.
Allowing them no time to react, she went on to explain about the note in the prince’s coat, and the decision to seize the chance to catch Sir Augustus.
“The fact that I asked Tomas—an experienced partisan fighter—to play the lead role in our deception ought to prove that we ladies did indeed weigh the risks, and then took every precaution.”
Saybrook’s mouth twitched in grudging admission that she had cleverly outflanked his objections. “A reasonable argument,” he conceded. “But no amount of reason can keep my blood from running cold at the thought of you charging into danger.”
The minister muttered something under his breath.
“Allow me to remind you that’s what’s sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander,” said Arianna. “Let us not dwell on past dangers. I’m far more interested in knowing how the conspirators wove their devil-cursed web of intrigue, and what they were after.”
“Power,” intoned Grentham. “And all the trappings that come with it—money, influence, the ability to play puppet-master and pull the strings to control every important decision made on the Continent.”
“Such hubris is staggering,” murmuring Sophia. “How did they even conceive of it?”
“As you know, Orlov spent a good deal of time in London as a diplomatic envoy,” continued Grentham. “His work brought him in contact with Lord Frederick Boylston at the Foreign Office. The two of them apparently formed a friendship, and discovered they shared the same vision of how a British and Russian alliance could dominate Europe—assuming its leaders were willing to sacrifice principle for self-interest.”
“The key was that they realized that only two men stood in the way making their idea a reality,” interjected Saybrook.
“Grentham, “ whispered Sophia.
“Yes, he was one of them. With him gone and one of their own men in place, Boylston could take control of foreign policy,” confirmed the earl. “Orlov was quite rich, and had a number of like-minded nobles in St. Petersburg ready to fund a plot to put their own men in power. The money was there to make Grentham look guilty of treason—bribery, forgeries, false witnesses. All they need was a brilliant administrator to organize and execute the plan.”
“It so happened that Boylston and Sir Augustus were members of the same club,” explained Grentham. “And when Boylston learned of Sir Augustus’s simmering anger with the government and beau monde for not recognizing and rewarding his talents, he recruited him to the conspiracy.”
“But how does the Tsar fit in?”
“Alexander is mercurial, but he refused to be pushed into favoring the sort of alliances Orlov wanted,” replied the minister. “And given Orlov’s penchant for violence, he began to think assassination offered a simple way to solve the problem. After all, Alexander is said to have been one of the conspirators in the murder of his own father.”
Arianna felt a shiver skate down her spine.
“And it so happens that Orlov is a relative of the tsar,” added Saybrook. “Seeing as Russian politics is a Byzantine world of intrigue and betrayals, it seems he thought he might be able to foment opposition to Alexander’s younger brother taking on the crown, as Constantine is a weak and irresolute fellow. Then, having put together a faction of powerful nobles, he saw a chance to seize the throne.”
Sophia’s face turned pale as ice. “That’s a thought too terrible to contemplate.”
“Indeed.” Grentham closed his eyes for an instant. “Lady Saybrook has slain that particular worry. But the threat to peace is like the serpent-faced hydra of Greek mythology. We cut off one of its heads, only to have two more spring to life.”
“Come, Percival—don’t be so pessimistic,” chided Constantina. She lifted her cup. “I say we should take heart and toast our triumphs over evil when we can. Yes, there will be other challenges, but we shall deal with them when they rise up.”
The minister chuffed a cynical snort. But after a moment’s hesitation, he raised his glass—he and the earl had chosen brandy over chocolate—and acknowledged the dowager with a swirled salute. “To us. Victory isn’t always pretty. But somehow we managed to pull Britain’s cods out of the fire—along with my own.”
The dowager raised her brows. “A rather inelegant way of phrasing it, especially considering ladies are present.”
A glint of amusement lit in Grentham’s eyes. “Don’t pretend I’ve shocked you.”
“My dear boy, I probably know far more saltier words than you do.”
“I’ll drink to that,” he replied.
Which made everyone laugh.
Arianna repressed a yawn, suddenly aware that her eyelids felt heavy as lead. “On that note, perhaps we should all seek a few hours of sleep.”
The scrape of the stools on stone floor confirmed the suggestion.
“I imagine we’ll—” she began to add, only to have her words interrupted by their two footmen.
“Your pardon, milord,” said Tomas, looking to Saybrook. “But you have a visitor asking for an audience.”
“Send the nodcock away,” growled the earl.
“He’s rather, er, imperious about the request.” A cough. “Allow me to suggest that might be undiplomatic to refuse.”
“I don’t think the gentleman is using to being turned away, milord,” added Jorge. “And he seems quite anxious to pay his respects to milady.”
“Oh, bloody hell,” muttered Saybrook.
“It would be wise to admit him,” counseled Grentham. “Our task of discreetly repairing the damage done by the conspiracy will be infinitely easier if Tsar Alexander is on our side.”
“And despite Orlov’s treachery, he was Alexander’s old friend and a relative, so the tsar might be a trifled piqued that I’ve put a period to the prince’s existence,” said Arianna.
“Oh, very well, show him in,” said the earl.
“Shouldn’t we receive him in the drawing room?” asked Constantina. “He is, after all, royalty.”
“Since he chooses to intrude upon our household at an ungodly hour, he can damn well make himself at home in the kitchen.”
“As I recall from Vienna, he’s very fond of chocolate,” said Arianna.
“Yes, it’s one of the reasons he put on so much weight that he had to have the imperial tailor send new uniforms from St. Petersburg.”
“Shhh—keep your voice down,” she chided. “Grentham is right that it is in our interests to sweeten him up, so to speak.”
“Very well.” Saybrook’s expression darkened. “But if he tries to put his hand on your derriere, there may be a second dead Russian laid out in the meat larder.”
On that note, Tomas returned and formally announced the entrance of the Emperor of All Russia.
“My dear Lady S!” Alexander stepped forward and swept into an elaborate bow that ended with taking her hand and lifting it to his lips. “When I heard you a had accompanied your husband to Paris, I couldn’t resist coming and paying my respects.” His gaze lingered for a moment on her breeches. “It appears you’ve been up to more adventures.” Hi sensuous lips curled upward. “Had I known, I would have been happy to gift you with another pistol, ha, ha, ha.”
“Ha, ha, ha,” echoed Arianna softly. “That wasn’t necessary, Your Highness. I brought along my own arsenal of weapons.”
His eyes shifted to her bosom. “And no doubt you slay every gentleman who makes your acquaintance.”
Saybrook cleared his throat with a brusque cough.
His smile growing more pronounced, Alexander released his hold on her and primly folded his hands behind his back. “I cannot help but admire your many charms—but of course from afar. Under the guidance of a great spiritual advisor, I have abandoned all worldly temptations for a more soulful life.”
Whatever influence the self-proclaimed mystic, Baroness von Krüdener, had over Alexander, mused Arianna, it did not appear to be doing him much good. His skin had an unhealthy paleness, and his once muscled physique looked to be turning flabby.
“A great ruler is always wise to contemplate abstract ideas as well as to be a man of heroic action,” she murmured.
Grentham maintained a stoic expression, but a hint of laughter hovered beneath his lashes.
Alexander, however, appeared pleased by her flattery. “The wars have been exhausting,” he agreed. “I look forward to peace, both politically and personally.” A sigh. “It has pained me deeply to hear of Prince Orlov’s betrayal. You are sure—”
“Quite sure,” said Saybrook. “Make no bones about it, Your Majesty, he planned to assassinate you this morning and steal the throne for himself.”
Alexander closed his eyes and released a mournful sigh.
“However, you need not worry about any further threat to your safety from him,” added Grentham, who knew the Tsar disliked dealing with difficult decisions. “The matter has been handled by your allies.”
A look of relief flitted across Alexander’s face. “Your efficiency in such matters is always appreciated, milord.”
The rustle of well-tailored wool and the muted clink of gold-hilted sabers signaled that his entourage of military guards waiting in the corridor was growing restless.
“Alas, I must take my leave. Wellington asked me not to linger long in Paris on my own, so I must be off to his headquarters.” Another bow. “I do hope our paths will cross again soon, Lady Saybrook.”
“That would, of course, be lovely, Your Majesty,” responded Arianna. Though highly unlikely, she added to herself. Another encounter would mean that Trouble had once again reared its ugly head. “In the meantime, I wish you well, sir.”
Alexander started to turn, and then paused to unpin an exquisite jeweled medal from his tunic. “Please accept a token of respect from an ardent admirer,” he said, placing it in her palm. “Would that all ladies possessed your beauty and your cleverness.”
“Be careful what you wish for,” whispered Saybrook, just loud enough for her to hear.
Holding back a chuckle, Arianna bobbed a graceful curtsey and replied with a sincere expression of thanks. Despite his foibles, she couldn’t help but like the man. Ruling a vast and disparate empire was not easy . . .
“I ought to follow along,” muttered Grentham. “And begin working with Wellington to shuffle chaos back into order.”
“It can wait for another half hour,” said Sophia firmly. She took his arm. “I insist that you take an interlude of rest before you gallop away.”
“Rest—what a blissful idea,” said Arianna as she watched her friend march the minister toward one of the side salons.
“Indeed, I’m going to toddle off to bed. I’ve had quite enough excitement for one day.” The dowager patted back a yawn. “Or has it been two?”
“I’ve stopped counting.” Saybrook put his arm around Arianna’s shoulders and drew her close. “Let us retire to our rooms for some peace and quiet, for I fear we’ll have precious little of either over the next few days.
“Peace and quiet.” Arianna leaned into him, savoring his muscled warmth. “Amen to that.”
Chapter 26
The ocean breeze filled the sun-bleached sails and set the naval pennants atop the frigate’s mainmast dancing against the cloudless sky. The Channel was unusually calm, and their ship was flying through the water.
“Peace and quiet,” murmured Arianna, gazing out at the diamond-bright shards of light glittering over the gently rolling sea-green waves.
“Somehow, I have a feeling those two elements aren’t a staple in your life.” Fitzroy ducked under a length of netting hung out to dry and came over to stand next to her at the ship’s rail. “Are your days always this fraught with intrigue and danger?”
“Only occasionally.” Though of late, she conceded, the occasions had been coming with alarming frequency.
He chuckled. “I confess, life will seem sadly flat when the only risks I face are collapsing tunnels and miscalculated gunpowder explosions.”
“Oh, never fear—Grentham remarked on how useful you were on this mission,” she quipped. “Which means you will hear from him again about a clandestine assignment, and likely sooner than later. As he so aptly points out, an interlude of quiet only presages a coming storm.”
“Strangely enough, I find the prospect . . . rather appealing.”
“Which means a taste for intrigue and danger runs in your blood.”
The wind freshened, setting off a crack of canvas as the ships altered course.
“Speaking of blood . . .” Fitzroy turned his back on the sea and braced his elbows on the rail. “I have been thinking about . . . us.” His smile belied the uncertainty in his eyes. “And I feel apologies are in order. I had no right to impose my secret on you. It was selfish of me not to think through the ramifications, and how the revelation might upset your life.”
“I confess, at first blush I didn’t know quite what to make of you,” replied Arianna. A sudden gust tugged a lock of hair loose from its pins and she took a moment to tuck it behind her ear. “Were you an imposter? Or a true son of my father, blithely seizing the chance to make money when a golden opportunity presented itself?”
He winced. “I was nervous, and in trying to appear self-confident, I acted like an arse. No wonder you thought me despicable.”
“I’ve learned over the years that first impressions are not always the right ones, so I didn’t judge you quite that harshly. I soon came to believe you were neither an imposter nor a scoundrel.”
“Thank you for that.” Fitzroy hesitated. “Was our father really as bad as all that?”
The question hovered between them for several moments before Arianna released a sigh. “There was much that was good and sweet about him. And I loved him dearly.” She met his eyes, so achingly familiar in their sapphirine glitter. “But he had no moral compass.”
“While your needle,” murmured Fitzroy, “always points to true north.”
“As does yours . . .” Arianna placed her hand atop his. “Richard.”
His face betrayed a spasm of shock before slowly softening into a smile. “Are you saying that you mean to . . . acknowledge the connection?”
“You . . . you are a very fine man, my dear brother.” It was merely the salt spray making her eyes water, she told herself. Granted, her emotions had been oddly overwrought of late. But still, the drops on her cheeks couldn’t be real tears.
