“Your pardon, Milord, but Major Prescott is here and is requesting to see you,” said José. “He says it’s urgent.”
“Wait for an interlude,” answered the earl. “Then show him up.”
He turned back to the others after easing the door shut. “Arianna is right. The enemy—or potential enemy—must be kept guessing about what we know and don’t know. If Prescott is here about Fitzroy and Wolff, let us play ignorant that anything is amiss. Say nothing about their planned rendezvous last night.”
He glanced at Sophia. “It’s imperative not to give away the fact that we know that Fitzroy and Wolff are involved in clandestine activities. Or that we’re working in tandem with them.”
Sophia didn’t miss the look or its implication. “Be assured that I won’t let emotions get the better of me. I will of course defer to your judgment about the major.”
Her eyes locked with his. “But that doesn’t mean that I entirely agree with it.”
“I’m willing to listen to your thoughts,” replied the earl. “What would you suggest?”
“Prescott’s familiarity with the customs and the people here at the Imperial Court could be invaluable, especially considering our limited resources,” she said. “Rather than shut him out completely, perhaps there’s a way to use his knowledge and give him a chance to prove himself, while at the same time remaining on guard against any perfidy on his part.”
Arianna considered the suggestion. “Actually, I think I see how that can work to our advantage. The conspirators will expect that Sandro will be the one rushing to rescue our missing friends.” Her eyes narrowed. “Russians may be used to women as schemers, but they won’t imagine that we might play a man’s role and take an active role in clandestine activities. And that will be our secret weapon.”
Catching Saybrook’s gaze, she added, “If you ask the major for his aid in tracking down clues, he may actually help you uncover some useful information—assuming that Sophia is right and he’s an ally, not an enemy. But more importantly . . .”
A grim smile. “It will distract the enemy and allow Sophia and me to take Mrs. Schuyler by surprise. For the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that the women in this unholy conundrum hold the key to unlocking the whereabouts of the missing medallion, and putting an end to the threat against the Tsar.”
“I agree wholeheartedly with you on that,” said Sophia. “After observing Countess Tatiana at yesterday’s diplomatic reception, I’m quite sure you’re right about her being the victim of abuse. I didn’t see any bruises, but the other telltale signs were clear to my eye.”
Sophia herself had suffered from an abusive father who had forced her into an engagement with a sadistic bully.
“Which means there’s much more to her relationships with Orlov and Prescott than meets the eye. She may know something that will help us unravel the tangled threads—”
The hurried tattoo of steps in the corridor announced the major was fast approaching.
“Using me as a decoy is an unorthodox strategy,” began Saybrook. He pursed his lips—and then allowed a faint smile. “Which is a point in its favor.”
“Exactly,” agreed Arianna. “Mrs. Schuyler must be careful not to lose her hold over the Tsar, so she won’t dare refuse to see Sophia and me. And she certainly won’t anticipate what I intend to say to her.” A pause. “She’s savvy enough to know when it’s time to bargain.”
The earl nodded. “Very well, I’ll distract Prescott for the day while you visit Mrs. Schuyler. But you must agree that we’ll rendezvous in the Tsar’s reception hall at the time of the daily blessing to Mother Russia, so that I know all is well.”
“Fair enough,” replied Arianna. Bishop Sergius, the cleric from Orlov’s entourage, had been invited to perform the ritual, which was to take place at five in the afternoon, before the courtiers drifted off to dress for the evening entertainments. “I agree that we all must err on the side of caution, so—”
A brusque knock cut short any further plotting. “Milord?”
Saybrook waited for a moment, then opened the door and stepped aside to allow the major to enter.
“Forgive me for calling at this ungodly hour,” apologized Prescott, “and interrupting your breakfast.”
“You are quite welcome to join us. Would you care for some eggs and toast?” asked Arianna with ladylike hospitality.
The major looked nonplussed. “Food is not foremost on my mind, Milady,” he answered, darting a look around. “I was hoping that I might find Mr. Fitzroy here.”
“Here?” Saybrook contrived to sound puzzled. “Why would Fitzroy be here?”
“I’ve noticed that Lady Saybrook has spent some time conversing with him on several occasions during festivities at the palace, so I thought . . .” Prescott blew out a harried breath. “Fitzroy didn’t show up for an important early morning meeting with the ambassador and me, so I thought there might be a possibility that he had come here instead.”
“As you see, he didn’t,” answered the earl.
Prescott shifted uncomfortably. Arianna saw him look to Sophia.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t care for a cup of coffee, Major?” said her friend.
“I’d rather be offered a modicum of cooperation, rather than polite hostility,” he responded. “Aren’t we all working to achieve the same goal—to keep Russia from turning from an ally into an enemy?”
