“How?” asked Sophia.
“I’ll explain all the details during our journey to the monastery,” replied Arianna. “For now suffice it to say it involved an imaginative interpretation of the tarot cards, as well as exploiting Tsar Alexander’s friendship with me—and his fondness for my chocolate confections.”
“Ye gods,” muttered Saybrook. “Mystical habble-gabble, our friends imprisoned in a maze of subterranean dungeons—it sounds like a plot from one of Ann Radcliffe’s horrid novels.”
“Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction,” she replied.
“Perhaps I should consider hiring Mrs. Schuyler, once she tires of fleecing Little Lamb Alexander,” said Grentham. “It seems her mind is nearly as devious as mine.”
“She would make an excellent operative,” agreed Arianna. “Especially as her moral compass isn’t as skewed as you think.”
The minister raised his brows. “And you consider that a point in her favor for playing these dirty games?”
Arianna didn’t bother replying. “We’ve no time to waste. I need to spend some time in the kitchen preparing a special box of wedding chocolates, while the rest of you prepare for a rescue mission.” Turning to Grentham, she added, “The four of us are expected as guests at the wedding. I assume you’ll manage to find your own way into the walled compound.”
“I might as well ride in the comfort of the Imperial sleigh that is coming for you,” he replied. “Once we’re inside the monastery complex, I’ll fend for myself.”
“Prescott, can you obtain a detailed diagram of the Holy Trinity Cathedral and the adjacent buildings?” asked Saybrook.
The major shot to his feet. “I’ll return with one within the hour.”
“Excellent. In the meantime, I’ll go clean and load our weapons.”
Grentham speared a morsel of herring. “That leaves me plenty of leisure in which to enjoy my breakfast.”
Arianna pushed back her cup. “I’ll send a message to Mrs. Schuyler, letting her know that we’ve received her message.” As Prescott turned for the door, she added, “I’ll also tell her to assure Tatiana that we won’t let her be thrown to that ravening wolf.”
He nodded a grim thanks and hurried away.
“And now, I had better get busy in the kitchen.” She glanced over at Sophia and saw that her friend had reduced her single piece of toast to a pile of crumbs. “Would you care to come with me?”
Sophia shook her head. “I’ll be there shortly. I haven’t yet finished here.”
The cryptic comment didn’t bode well for the minister—or his appetite.
Unless he was a glutton for punishment.
Avoiding a glance at Grentham, Arianna rose. Clearly, he had not yet had a chance to have a heart-to-heart talk with Sophia on his own terms. Now he would have to face the emotional complexities of their relationship, whether he was ready or not.
As she had warned him, Love was exhilarating, but it was also frightening and tested one’s mettle in ways that defied words. She hoped that he and Sophia would find a way to a mutual understanding.
“Very well. We’ll all regroup when Prescott returns. And then we’ll need to dress for our part in the coming drama.”
“Perhaps the two of us ought to wear red,” said Sophia, not looking up from her plate. “In order to hide any bloodstains.”
Chapter20
Snow was falling fasterand faster, its thick flakes muffling the city in an eerie silence. Even the sound of the Imperial sleigh sent by the Tsar was naught but a whisperyswoosh-swooshas its runners glided over the hidden cobblestones.
“It’s a good thing José has experience with snow from the mountains in Spain,” observed Arianna. They had substituted their head footman for the palace driver. “Once we rescue Fitzroy and Wolffy, we’ll need a sure hand on the reins to make our escape.”
“Perhaps the bride and groom won’t make it to their own wedding,” commented Saybrook as he squinted into the swirling vortex of white-on-white outside the window glass.
“Prescott will see that Prince Orlov arrives,” said Grentham. The major’s role in the plan arranged by Mrs. Schuyler was to bring the prince to the cathedral within the pomp and splendor of the Tsar’s personal sleigh—an honor the prince couldn’t refuse. “If only to hope for a reason to thrash the prince to a bloody pulp.”
The thought seemed to cause a tiny smile to twitch at the corners of the minister’s mouth. Or perhaps, reflected Arianna, he was recalling his recent tête-à-tête with Sophia, which appeared to have begun a rapprochement. The tension between them seemed to have eased.
Sophia had said nothing during her quick visit to the kitchen, but the bruise-dark shadows in her gaze had lightened.
