“He won’t,” assured Arianna. “He may be foolish at times, but he’s not stupid.”
The earl didn’t appear reassured, but he conceded with a small nod. “While you are dealing with His Majesty, I’ll pay a visit to our naval attaché and begin making arrangements for our journey home.”
Home.The word stirred a frisson of longing.
The imposing carved wood doors to the Imperial wing of the palace were swung open by a pair of liveried footmen, and Prince Golitsyn, the Tsar’s private secretary, wordlessly beckoned for her to enter.
“Don’t hurry back,” she murmured to Saybrook. “I have a few things to discuss with the prince before I meet with the Tsar.” She gathered her skirts. “So this may take a while.”
Thetap-tapof their shoes on the polished stone tiles echoed off the ornate moldings and pilasters that decorated the long corridor leading to the Tsar’s inner sanctum of rooms. Golitsyn stayed a half step ahead of her, making it impossible to read his face.
Biding her time, Arianna waited until they were almost abreast of a bank of leaded windows that afforded a magnificent view of Hare Island and the glittering gold spire of St. Peter and Paul Cathedral before catching his arm and drawing him aside.
“Before we go any farther, I think it might behoove both our interests to have a private conversation.”
Golitsyn regarded her with the expressionless mask of a well-trained diplomat, but it didn’t quite hide the ripple of fear in his eyes. “Oh?” he said blandly. “I’m not sure that I take your meaning, Lady Saybrook.”
“Then allow me to explain,” she replied. “I take it you’re aware of Bishop Sergius’s death and the fact that we uncovered his conspiracy to cause an uprising to force Tsar Alexander to abdicate the throne.”
“Yes. It was shocking news,” he answered. “Who would have thought that such a holy man would be a . . .”
“A traitor?” suggested Arianna quickly. “Yes, shocking, indeed.” She fixed him with an unblinking stare. “One wonders who he and Prince Orlov had working for them within the Tsar’s inner circle.”
Golitsyn shifted, the flesh tightening over his cheekbones, making them look sharp as knife blades. “That’s a very serious allegation, Milady,” he intoned. “Have you evidence to prove it?”
“Mrs. Schuyler’s rooms were searched and a certain item taken in order to blackmail her.”
His face relaxed ever so slightly. “The American foments a great many wild rumors. I advise you to trust none of them.”
“I believe that the lady isn’t lying,” replied Arianna. “And it seems to me that there is one way to verify her truthfulness. The Tsar trusts my judgment—after all, that’s why I’m here—so why don’t we go ask him to conduct an immediate search of the Imperial wing of the palace for a diamond bracelet.” She described it in detail. “As the Tsar’s closest confidant, I’m sure you would have no objection to having your quarters be first.”
“I . . .” The secretary drew in a shaky breath. “I have devoted my life to Alexander,” he said with a quiet dignity. “My loyalty . . . I would hope my loyalty is beyond question.”
Arianna actually believed that was true. It was the reason she had decided to have a private tête-à-tête with him. She had begun to suspect how some of the key pieces of the puzzle fit together.
And was willing to negotiate a deal with him.
“Loyalty sometimes demands very difficult decisions,” she said. “I can understand how a loyal friend of the Tsar might be concerned that Mrs. Schuyler was leading him in a dangerous direction that would cause him to lose the faith of his own people. And that such a fear might cause that loyal friend to make a mistake in judgment and do a deal with the devil after being led to believe that he was the lesser of two evils.”
Golitsyn closed his eyes for an instant, all of the fight going out of him. “I worried that the American’s influence over Tsar Alexander was creating a terrible crisis. The Russian people are very traditional and conservative. There were rumblings within the Imperial Court that she was seducing him away from the values that we hold dear. And then . . .”
He hesitated. “And then I heard whispers of a plan to steal the Rurik Medallion, which because of its legendary curse could precipitate an uprising that would topple him from the throne. Knowing that Mrs. Schuyler had easy access to Alexander’s bedchamber, where he keeps the Jewel Room key—and knowing the Tsar’s trusting nature, I feared the worst. So I . . .”
“So you took themedallion yourself and gave it to Baroness Gruzinsky to bring to me in London.”
His eyes widened. “H-How did you know?” he began, then shook his head in confusion. “But if you received it, why—”
“I never got it,” answered Arianna. “The baroness must have had second thoughts about the dangers of traveling across Europe carrying the fate of Alexander in her hands. A cryptic note she sent to a mutual friend hinted that she hid it here in St. Petersburg before she left.”
“But where?” moaned Golitsyn, looking distraught. “If we don’t find it by the time of the grand ceremony, it doesn’t matter that the enemy didn’t steal it. All will be lost!”
“Never fear,” said Arianna. “I’ve found it.”
The look of relief on his face confirmed his innocence to her.
“And I am about to return it to him.”
“Oh, bless you, Milady.” His shoulders slumped as he turned to stare out the window, a sad smile pulling at his lips. “My mistake will, of course, mean my immediate dismissal, which is only right—”
