“I suspect there remain several ringleaders within the highest echelons of our diplomatic and military service who wish to shape Britain’s foreign policy and alliances to their own end,” continued Grentham. “And that they are closely allied with a faction in Russia with the same aims—”
“Which means that if they succeed, they would dominate all of Europe. Prussia, Austria, and certainly defeated France couldn’t stand up to a united Britain and Russia.”
“Precisely,” agreed Grentham.
Saybrook pursed his lips. “What the devil is taking you so long to root them out?”
The minister shifted his eyes to the bank of windows for just a moment and in that heartbeat, she caught a flicker of vulnerability.
“I am human,” he said softly. “Though I’m aware that you have your doubts about that.”
“Have you suspects?” she asked.
“That is something I’d prefer not to divulge at present.”
“Fair enough,” growled Saybrook. “Though I imagine it’s safe to say that whoever they are, they’re in league with the faction of Russian nobles headed by the Orlov family.”
“Yes,” came the terse answer.
A sudden thought struck her. “Ye gods, are you thinking that Madame Gruzinsky was part of the conspiracy, and was bringing the missing talisman to one of the ringleaders here in London to use as . . .” Arianna hesitated. “No, that makes no sense, for there would have been no reason to murder her—”
“Unless . . .” Saybrook looked at Grentham. “It was your operatives trying to retrieve it.”
“It wasn’t,” replied the minister. “As far as I know, the talisman has not left Russia.”
“What a damnable coil,” she whispered.
“With yet more strands adding to the tangle.” The earl frowned. “If the baroness was part of the conspiracy, why did she have your name hidden in her reticule?”
Arianna could think of one reason—that Dmitri Orlov knew of her involvement in his brother’s death and was ordering her assassination. But she decided not to say it aloud.
“An alternative is that her loyalty lay with the Tsar,” suggested Grentham. “And she was bringing the talisman to your wife for safekeeping.”
“I find that hard to believe,” muttered the earl.
“Given the complexities of the situation, I think we need to keep an open mind,” said the minister.
“Which is why I’m surprised you and Sophia haven’t discussed the baroness,” mused Arianna. “She actually met Madame Gruzinsky and had a chance to converse with her. I thought the two of you—”
“I wasn’t aware of Miss Kirtland’s contact with the baroness.” Grentham’s expression had turned even more forbidding than usual. “I will have a word with her.”
The curtness of his reply warned her that further questions on the subject of Sophia would be unwelcome. Repressing a sigh, Arianna remained silent. Sophia’s feelings for the minister had first become obvious during their mission to Brussels just before the Battle of Waterloo. And her fierce sense of loyalty during the recent crisis had been key in gathering allies and helping Grentham defeat his enemies.
Arianna was under the impression that her friend’s regard was reciprocated. But Grentham was a deeply complex man, and perhaps he was having second thoughts about getting entangled in any emotional commitment.
She, of all people, knew that Love was fraught with complications. And confusion. Both she and Saybrook had been wary of making themselves vulnerable . . .
“So what is your next move?” Saybrook’s question to the minister drew her back from her brooding.
“I’m close to resolving whether all the traitors are gone from Horse Guards,” answered Grentham. “The Foreign Office is proving more difficult to assess.”
“Can my uncle and I be of any help?” asked Saybrook.
Grentham tapped his fingertips together as he considered the question. “Perhaps. Would you care to accompany me to the Admiralty?”
The earl pushed back his chair.
Catching his questioning glance, she waved him on. “I have my own agenda for the day.”
