He glanced at Sophia, who was staring down into her empty glass. She hadn’t said a word since her brush with Death.
“I had a bad feeling about this mission,” continued the minister, but he didn’t elaborate.
“So far, you’ve proved to be correct,” said Arianna. “But let us hope that things are about to change.” She hadn’t yet had a chance to pass on what Tatiana had told her.
“I devoutly hope that this night’s near-disaster has yielded some good news to share,” muttered Saybrook.
“It has,” confirmed Arianna. However, before she recounted what she had learned, she wanted to hear more from Grentham. That he would take it upon himself to leave Britain and travel to Russia must mean that the stakes had altered.
“But first, the minister has more explaining to do,” she said, fixing Grentham with a gimlet gaze. “From the very start of this mission, we’ve been caught up in puzzles within puzzles. I’m heartily sick of trying to feel my way through a swirl of shadows. You need to stop holding back information and tell us everything you know.”
Grentham looked away, and for several long moments the only sounds in the room were the hiss and crackle of the burning coals within the belly of the heating stove.
“You give me too much credit,” he replied softly. “I am as much in the dark about the byzantine tangle of intrigue going on here at the Imperial Court as you are.”
The earl chuffed a rude sound.
“From the very start of the trouble, all the information coming in from various informants has pointed to Prince Orlov,” continued Grentham. “But something just doesn’t feel right about it. He’s outwardly smoother and more clever than his late brother.” A pause. “But he’s also supremely self-satisfied with his current life of dissipation and debauchery. The more I learn, the more I can’t see that he has any ambition to be Tsar. He has everything he wants—the official duties would merely distract from his personal pleasures.”
“Somehow I find it hard to believe that you’re telling us everything you know,” said Saybrook.
“You think I would send your wife and you into danger . . .” The tiny lines of tension etched around the corners of his mouth deepened. “And deliberately hold back information that might put your lives at risk?”
The earl looked about to retort, and then seemed to reconsider and remained silent.
“Then why are you here?” asked Sophia, her voice barely more than a whisper.
Arianna watched the minister’s face. Not a twitch—his features appeared carved out of granite. But the quicksilver flicker in his eyes gave him away.
Lord, what fools we mortals be, she thought with an inward sigh. Her gaze moved around the room. All of them were experienced operatives who knew that emotion had no place in the ruthless world of espionage.
And yet, she admitted, all of them had, in some form or another, been drawn here by the power of Love.
“I’m here because Britain can’t afford to have our most valuable ally thrown into chaos when the balance of power in Europe is already fraught with questions,” answered Grentham. Only then did the stone face betray a ripple of vulnerability. “And because, contrary to what you may think, I don’t throw my friends to the wolves.”
She knew that for a man as self-controlled as Grentham, it was a wrenching admission.
“You, however,” snapped the minister, directing a glare at Prescott, “are expendable.”
“It’s important to have a sacrificial lamb, in case things take a truly difficult turn,” drawled Saybrook, which broke the ice and made everyone smile.
The earl waited a moment before continuing to press Grentham. “I assume you have your own contacts within the Imperial Court. Have you truly learned nothing that might help us put together the pieces of this devil-cursed puzzle? If only we could locate the missing medallion—”
“Like you, I’ve heard vague rumors, but so far, none have appeared to be anything more than smoke and lies,” replied the minister. Scowling, he fixed Prescott with an accusing look. “I had hoped that your Russian connections would be useful. Had I known that romance had addled your wits, I wouldn’t have bothered.”
The major flushed.
“It’s Wolff who has had the most solid clue about its whereabouts,” offered Arianna quickly, and then explained about Madame Gruzinsky’s relationship with Wolff’s wife and the letter she had sent them. “However, we’ve found no leads as to who The Redeemer might be.”
Grentham’s gaze turned shuttered. “I’ve heard no mention of such a person. But I will see what I can learn.”
Saybrook rose and refilled his glass.
“Now, might we get back to the business at hand?” said Grentham, tapping his fingertips together. He looked at Arianna. “You said you had some good news to share?”
“Very good in the sense that we now know where our friends are being held captive,” she answered. “Tatiana overheard Orlov discussing Fitzroy and Wolff with several of his co-conspirators. They have been taken to the Alexander Nevsky Monastery and are being held prisoner in an underground chamber within the maze of tunnels that run beneath the cathedral and outer buildings.”
“Did she hear what Orlov intends to do with them?” asked Saybrook quickly.
