“Our best may not be very pretty at times . . .” He smoothed an errant lock of her hair back from her brow. “But somehow we always manage to get the job done.”
“Amen to that,” she murmured.
They stood for several heartbeats, simply savoring the quiet of the moment and their closeness. He took her hand and led her upstairs to their suite of rooms, where she quickly shucked off her men’s clothing and slipped on her flannel nightrail. But as she turned to leave the dressing alcove, Arianna paused to gaze out through the ice-encrusted window at the impenetrable gloom.
“Hell’s teeth,” she muttered. “Why would anyone choose to live in this accursed climate?”
“A good question, my love. But we have far more important ones to answer,” murmured Saybrook, slipping his arms around her and pulling her close. “However, they can wait until later this morning.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Come to bed, my love.”
The breakfast hourcame all too quickly, though outside the murky shadows were still nearly dark as night. As Arianna descended the stairs, the ambrosial scent of hot chocolate wafted out from the dining room. Quickening her steps, she joined Saybrook at the table and gave an appreciative smile as he spun themolinilloin the chocolate pot, adding a foamy froth to the dark brew.
The first few spicy sips quickly dissolved the lingering worries from last night. Yes, there had been a few horrible moments, but the risks had yielded great rewards.
They now knew that her brother and Wolff were alive, and where they were imprisoned . . .
A smile touched her lips as Arianna refilled her cup and leaned back to watch Saybrook butter a freshly baked muffin. The challenges that lay ahead were still frightening.
But we have faced frightening challenges before and overcome them.
“You’re looking remarkably cheerful,” observed Saybrook on glancing up. “If you’ve some secret weapon—a magic key for the monastery, perhaps? And a flying carpet to whisk us all back to London—please share it with me.”
“We have us, and we have Sophia and Grentham,” replied Arianna. “Add to that the fact that we now know that Prescott and Mrs. Schuyler can be trusted.” She took another sip of chocolate. “I think we should be able to make our own magic.”
“Let us hope that Mrs. Schuyler’s skill with tarot cards and communing with the forces of the cosmos isn’t entirely a hoax,” he said dryly. “Perhaps she can conjure up a miracle.”
Before Arianna could answer, José appeared and handed her a sealed missive. “This just arrived for you, Milady.”
She cracked the wax wafer and quickly read it.
“Well?” pressed Saybrook.
“Our new friend may not possess mystical powers with a deck of cards . . .” Arianna looked up with a smile. “But thank heavens that she has a very vivid imagination—and has Tsar Alexander wrapped around her little finger.”
Despite Saybrook’s protest,she insisted on waiting for the others to join them at the table before revealing the note’s contents. Grentham was the last to appear, and he took his time in filling his plate from the chafing dishes before taking a seat.
“I would have thought you’d be starved for information,” said Saybrook, “rather than kippered herring.”
“Baltic herring is a specialty,” replied the minister. “It’s smaller than regular herring and quite tasty.”
“How interesting—but we’ve got bigger fish to fry,” cut in Arianna. She unfolded the paper. “I’ve just received a missive from Mrs. Schuyler, and she reports that the situation took a new twist earlier this morning. To take advantage of it, we’ll need to move fast.”
Grentham put down his fork.
“Orlov asked for an audience with the Tsar to announce his intention of marrying Tatiana this afternoon—”
Prescott cursed and started to rise.
“Sit down,” ordered Arianna. “And don’t look so stricken. We shall make sure the vows are never uttered.”
The paper crackled as she shifted and continued. “Mrs. Schuyler says here that it is traditional for the head of a princely family to ask for the Tsar’s blessing in matrimony—”
“It is,” intoned Prescott. “But alas, it’s always been a mere formality.”
“Yes, but luckily for us, Mrs. Schuyler was clever enough to outwit tradition.” Arianna smiled. “She improvised and came up with a plan that will get all of us inside the outer walls of the monastery complex without stirring any suspicions.”
“And which in turn will allow us access to the underground cells and tunnels where Fitzroy and Wolff are being held,” finished the earl.
“Precisely.”
