Before she could answer, a lady’s voice cut through the buzz of the crowd.
“Andrushka!”
As if by enchantment, a sparkling ice princess broke free of the kaleidoscopic colors and flung herself at the major with a delighted laugh. She was dressed all in white, the crystalline flicker of diamonds skating over her creamy complexion and a profusion of blond curls that were pale as the ethereal northern light.
“What a beast you are!” she added, thumping an elfin fist against his chest. “Why have you not come to call on me? Dmitri just informed me that you arrived nearly a week ago!”
“You know very well that my official duties must come before pleasure, Taniushka.” Prescott lifted the lady’s snow-white glove to his lips. “But I am delighted that you are here tonight.”
Keeping hold of her hand, he looked to Arianna. “Forgive my bad manners, Lady Saybrook, and allow me to introduce you to my cousin, Countess Tatiana Naryshkin—”
“Soon to be Princess Orlov.” A gentleman dressed in the peacock splendor of an Imperial court chamberlain came up behind Tatiana and placed a hand on her shoulder.
Prescott smiled. “My felicitations on your recent engagement, Dmitri. My cousin is a very lucky lady.”
The prince was a handsome man, with none of the bear-like bulk or glowering malevolence of his late brother. Still, Arianna felt a chill slither down her spine.
Tatiana fluttered her lashes at Prescott. “Averylucky lady!” She touched the magnificent diamond necklace circling her swan-like throat. “See how he indulges me with costly gifts.” She flashed a guileless smile. “I must try not to let it . . . how do you say in English—spoil me.”
“You deserve to be cossetted, my pet,” murmured the prince. “Nothing could spoil your perfection.” He flicked an errant curl from her cheek. “But I cheerfully admit that I’m quite besotted, so perhaps I am not an objective observer.”
Prescott laughed and then turned the sound into an embarrassed cough. “Now I am doubly ashamed at yet another rudeness, Lady Saybrook. Without further ado, may I present my good friend and future relative, Prince Dmitri Orlov.”
“Enchantée,” murmured the prince as he executed a flawless bow over Arianna’s hand.
She couldn’t deny that Orlov and his fiancée made a striking couple. His jet-black hair, olive complexion and dark eyes made Tatiana’s pale perfection even more arresting.
“Welcome to Russia, Milady,” he added. “I do hope you will enjoy your visit.”
“Thank you, sir.” She searched his face for any hint of hidden malice but saw only a mask of polished politeness.
“Might I be forgiven for drawing my cousin away, Lady Saybrook?” Tatiana gave a winsome smile. “It’s terribly selfish, I know, but I haven’t seen him in so very long.”
“On the contrary, it does you credit to have such a fondness for your family,” replied Arianna. She spotted Fitzroy hovering nearby. “I see one of my acquaintances from the British Embassy—”
He was already coming their way.
“So please don’t let me keep you.”
After another flurry of pleasantries on Fitzroy’s arrival, Prescott and the Russians headed for one of the side salons, while Arianna and her brother moved through an archway leading to the magnificent picture and sculpture galleries, which were filled with artistic treasures from Western Europe.
“Does Grentham know that Prescott’s cousin is engaged to Prince Orlov?” asked Arianna, once they had strolled to a secluded spot.
“I would think it’s the main reason Grentham decided to send Prescott here,” replied Fitzroy.
She frowned. “Even though he’s likely playing with fire?”
“A calculated risk,” agreed her brother. “But the minister often gambles with the Devil and comes away unsinged.” A pause. “Though my guess is that you would know that better than I.”
Arianna’s gaze fell on an ethereally beautiful painting of a lady by Botticelli. “What do you know of Orlov and his bride-to-be?”
“Aside from the fact that they appear to be smitten with each other?” Fitzroy said dryly. “Orlov has more polish, pragmatism, and savoir faire than his late brother. Indeed, some believe that he might even make a better ally for Britain than Tsar Alexander.”
His words stirred a chilling thought.
Could Grentham be using us as pawns to distract the Tsar while in fact manipulating the chessboard to allow Orlov to take the throne?
She had come to think of the minister as a friend. But she also knew he was utterly ruthless in pursuing what he felt was best for Britain.
