The question was, did she trust herself?
A gust of wind rattled the window glass. Shadows slithered over the snow as the moon played hide and seek within the clouds blowing in from the sea. The lamp flame looked so very insignificant against the blackness of the night.
But light, however fragile-looking, was just as powerful a force as darkness.
Arianna slowly uncocked her pistol and slid it back into her coat pocket. “So, if you don’t have Fitzroy and von Wolfram captive, should we assume that Prince Orlov and his henchmen do?” she asked. “Or is there some other dangerous serpent within this nest of vipers that you suspect?”
Prescott’s shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. “Orlov seems the obvious villain,” he answered.
“Do you think he has the medallion?” asked Saybrook.
“I’m not sure.” The major expelled an exasperated sigh. “He’s been dropping hints that Alexander’s reign may soon be over. And that pious Bishop Sergius, who’s become part of his entourage, has been preaching hellfire and brimstone sermons about foreign ideas and godless influences corrupting the soul of Mother Russia. In public, Dmitri is making a good show of speaking respectfully about the traditions and values of theMotherland. And yet . . .”
He hesitated, a frown tightening his expression.
“What?” pressed Arianna. “We can’t afford to overlook anything. Fitzroy and von Wolfram are in grave danger. It has to be the conspirators who have them—nothing else makes sense.” Fear for her brother and her dear friend was making her voice turn shrill. “So if Prince Orlov isn’t the leader, we must identify who else is involved—and quickly.”
“Dmitri is clever,” responded Prescott, “and appears far more outwardly polished than his late brother. But I don’t quite believe that he’s smart enough to have orchestrated such a cunning plot to steal the throne.”
“You think he’s a puppet for a shadowy head villain?” said Arianna.
“I can’t say for sure.” Prescott grimaced. “But there are all too many ambitious and ruthless men within the Imperial Court who could be the power behind him.”
She turned to Mrs. Schuyler. “What about you—did you mention your upcoming meeting with Fitzroy and von Wolfram to anyone? And for God’s sake, don’t prevaricate. Their lives are hanging in the balance.”
“Absolutely not—I swear it.” Mrs. Schuyler’s face turned ashen. “I asked for the clandestine meeting with Fitzroy in order to tell him about the plan to smuggle me and Tatiana out of Russia. Andrei—that is, Major Prescott—told me that you suspected him of being a traitor, but I had noticed that you seemed to trust Fitzroy. As he and I had come to be friends, I thought he might help convince you that we weren’t the enemy.”
Arianna believed her. Fighting to keep herfears in check, she began to pace the perimeter of the room, trying to formulate their next move.
Think! Think!
“The thing is,” ventured Prescott, “the more I think about it, the more I suspect that Dmitri and his cabal don’t have the medallion. His Russian conspirators in London didn’t find it when they murdered Baroness Gruzinsky. She may have hidden it somewhere for safekeeping—”
“That may be so,” interrupted Saybrook. “But the truth is, Prince Orlov doesn’t need to possess it. He just needs for Alexander not to have it. So unless we have any idea of where it might be hidden.”
“The Redeemer . . .” Arianna suddenly recalled what the baroness had written to Wolff, and quickly explained about the note to Prescott and Mrs. Schuyler. “Do either of you know of anyone here at court who is called that by friends or admirers?”
They both shook their heads.
“But,” added Prescott, “that doesn’t mean there isn’t someone. The Imperial Court has a dizzying number of cliques. We could ask around—discreetly, of course—”
“We don’t have time for that,” said Arianna. “It seems to me that whether or not Prince Orlov is the head of the conspiracy, he knows about the kidnapping and where our friends are being held.” Perhaps she was grasping at straws, but it seemed the most logical surmise. “We need to think about where he would imprison them.”
“I agree,” said Saybrook. “I say we don’t waste any more time talking in circles. We need to return to St. Petersburg and set up a surveillance of the prince and his movements, as well as make a list of the possible places where Fitzroy and von Wolfram are being held.”
Said aloud, it made the odds seem overwhelming against them. But Arianna merely nodded.
The earl turned to Prescott. “How did you get here?”
“By fast sleigh and a team of four horses.” The major made a face. “But it only fits two people.”
“My carriage is in the palace’s stables. There are sleighs there too, if the snow continues,” said Mrs. Schuyler. “You two gentlemen can go on now, while the rest of us follow later this morning. The inquiries we ladies need to make can’t begin until the Imperial courtiers are awake, and that won’t be until well after noon.” Her mouth gave a tiny twitch. “And besides, I dislike traveling on an empty stomach.”
“An excellent suggestion,” said Arianna, who decided that a long and candid conversation with Mrs. Schuyler would likely be very useful. Women did indeed see things that men didn’t—and she was quite sure that the American adventuress had a very sharp pair of eyes. “José and Tomás should accompany you in one of the imperial sleds.”
Saybrook hesitated.
“They’re experienced in clandestine surveillance,” she added. “And Heaven knows, we need every advantage we can muster to free our friends.”
