And a quick glance at Tatiana’s profile confirmed her initial suspicion—the Ice Princess didn’t look grief-stricken . . .
She looked terrified.
Arianna had a feeling that she knew why. She had seen her share of women who had suffered both mental and physical mistreatment from men. A wariness in the depths of their eyes—along with a rippling of shame—gave away their terrible secret to those who knew what to look for.
Careful to keep a bland smile fixed on her lips, Arianna helped Tatiana settle onto the cushions. Despite their softness, the Russian winced, and the movement caused the cuff of her gown to slide up just a touch, revealing a purpling bruise above her wristbone.
Brute.Dmitri Orlov might have a more polished appearance than his late brother, but at heart, he must be just as much of a monster. Arianna wondered whether Prescott knew . . .
“Are you enjoying our city, Lady Saybrook?” asked Tatiana with mechanical politeness.
“Very much so,” she answered, matching her companion’s tone. “As of yet, I’ve not had time to do much exploring, but I’m looking forward to seeing the sights.”
“You must, of course, visit the St. Peter and Paul Cathedral and the art collection in the Hermitage.” The conversation moved on to the main attractions of the city, the current theatrical productions, and what Russian furs and handicrafts should be taken back home.
“Shopping,” commented Orlov as he finished his private conversation with the cleric and came to join them. “Do you ladies think of anything else?”
“On rare occasions,” answered Arianna, which earned her a condescending laugh.
“You may trust my fiancée’s recommendations on what to buy. She has exquisite taste,” continued the prince. He held out his hand. “Come, my pet. We must be going. Our Foreign Office is holding a diplomatic reception, and we must make an appearance.”
Tatiana dutifully rose.
“Forgive us for running off,” added Orlov as the cleric and court adjutants moved to the doorway. “May we escort you to another part of the palace?”
“Thank you, but I think I shall stay here and finish perusing the collection at my leisure.”
“Then adieu for now.” He inclined a bow. “I’m sure our paths will be crossing frequently over the coming weeks.”
Oh, you may count on it,Prince Orlov.
“Something’s wrong.”Pushing away her breakfast plate untouched, Arianna gave yet another glance at the tall case clock in the corner of the room. They had stayed up well past midnight waiting for Fitzroy and Wolff, but the pair hadn’t come. Saybrook had then insisted that they all get some rest. However, she had slept badly, and now each dolefultickseemed to cut like a knife against her peace of mind.
She rose and began to pace around the perimeter of the dining room.
“There are any number of reasons why Fitzroy and Wolff haven’t come by to make a report,” murmured Saybrook after swallowing a bite of his buttered toast. “Perhaps the meeting was canceled at the last moment, or perhaps Tsar Alexander was in need of a spiritual session and Mrs. Schuyler couldn’t slip away.”
“Yes, but . . .” That was all logical reasoning, and yet Arianna couldn’t shake her sense of foreboding. “I just have a bad feeling in my bones.”
The earl raised his brows. “Now you are beginning to sound like the Russians, who put their trust in mysticism rather than common sense.”
“Sandro is right,” said Sophia. “We should focus on facts, rather than fantasies.”
Put that way, Arianna was aware of how flighty she sounded.
“However,” he added, “to allay your fears, I’ve sent José to call on both Fitzroy and Wolff and bring back an update on their plans.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me if they were already on their way here to meet with us,” murmured her friend. “Your brother is aware of the perils that can be caused by miscommunication.” Their mission in Paris had nearly been blown to smithereens because of it. “So I’m certain—”
Sophia’s reassurance was interrupted by José’s sudden appearance in the doorway, his normally unflappable calm looking frayed around the edges.
“Neither gentleman returned to his quarters last night,” he announced without preamble. “I then took it upon myself to query the ostler at the count’s hotel and found the carriage driver who took von Wolfram and Fitzroy to their rendezvous.”
“And?” pressed Saybrook as the footman paused for breath.
“He was told to wait, but they never returned.”
Chapter15
