The Royal Assassin (24 page)

“After Nadia tried to kill you with the dynamite?” Was Kira innocent or stupid?

“The plan was for her to run in and stop it. To make it look like she saved my life from anarchists so my father and the tsar would be forced to recognize her. You found it too soon.”

“There was only a few seconds left when I cut the fuse. She had already left the house. We were all only a few seconds from death at Nadia's hand.”

“No!”

Was she completely blind to Nadia's faults? Or did everyone around the Russian royal family act so deceitfully? “Perhaps Nadia thought if your father lost you, he might recognize her as his daughter. Or maybe she just wanted vengeance for the death of her mother.”

“No.” She began to cry. I didn't try to comfort her. She needed to find her own way to understanding Nadia's betrayal.

W
E
arrived at Hereford House and entered the mansion, where the duchess hugged the princess and said how delighted she was the young woman was safe.

While the princess tried to apologize for all the trouble she'd brought on their house, I approached the well-dressed man standing to one side. “Your Grace?” I asked.

“Yes, I'm the Duke of Hereford. Are you Miss Peabody or Fenchurch or something?”

That seemed to describe my life. “I am.”

“Blackford sent for me after you saved my home and family today. Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” At the moment, my primary thought had been saving myself, but he didn't need to know that. “I've enjoyed working with Her Grace.”

“She seems quite pleased with your work. But I suppose you're going back to your regular employment?”

“I own Fenchurch's Books, not far from Leicester Square.”

“Blackford's recommended it to me a time or two. I must stop by.”

“We'd be honored to serve you, Your Grace.” I'd be happy to have another aristocrat spend good money in my shop.

“Excuse me. Hereford, could you send someone for Sussex? The princess would like to speak to him, tonight if possible,” the duchess said.

“Of course, my dear. If you'll excuse me?” Hereford gave me a bow and walked away.

I was invited to take tea in the parlor with the duchess and the princess while we waited to see if Sussex could be reached. All I wanted was to see Blackford tonight.

I took my time in drinking two cups of tea while I waited. None of us said a word. I was about to give up and go home when the parlor door opened and the butler announced the dukes of Blackford and Sussex. The princess rose and hurried over to Sussex. He looked surprised and delighted at the change in the way she greeted him.

Hereford turned to his wife and suggested she retire after such a distressing day. Blackford came over to me and said, “I'll give you a ride home if you're ready to leave.”

“More than ready, Your Grace. Has Mary made it back to your house?”

“Yes. Sumner and Emma saw her safely home and told her she'd helped avenge her brother's death in stopping Griekev and Nadia. She was pleased to have played a role.”

I smiled in response. Mary might become a part of the Archivist Society. She certainly had good instincts for the work.

We said good night to our hosts and walked out into the rain. Once again, I began to shiver from the chill air and my exhaustion. Blackford had to help me into the carriage. I had no reserves of energy left for climbing into the monstrous vehicle.

“What happened with Grand Duke Vassily?”

“Nothing. I took him to the embassy before I collected Sussex.”

I stared at him in horror. “He shot a man in the back.”

“He's a diplomat. He can do that.” When my expression didn't change, he took one of my hands in his. “Remember Count Farkas? Grand Duke Vassily has the same protection. We hope diplomats won't go around shooting and stabbing the populace, but they can. It's called diplomatic immunity. All we can do is ask them to leave.”

“Will he?”

“Oh, yes. Inspector Grantham was having a nice chat with the ambassador and the grand duke when I left the embassy. At any rate, the negotiations he's involved in will wrap up in a day or so and he'll have no reason to be here.”

I considered his words in silence. “What about the princess?”

“What about her?”

“This has been a shock to her. I think she sees the world differently now. Do you think she and Sussex will still get along?”

“Perhaps better. You saw the way she greeted him tonight. There's nothing like an enthusiastic greeting by his loved one to strengthen a man's ardor.”

I looked at Blackford and raised my eyebrows. “Is that all it takes?”

His expression turned serious as he leaned closer. In the darkness of the carriage, broken only by flashes of light as we passed streetlamps, his eyes took on a possessive glow. He took off his hat and angled his head so my hat brim was out of his way as his face came ever nearer.

I was pulled toward him as if he were a magnet before our lips finally met. My hands slid up his shoulders without conscious thought on my part. Pressure from his arms pushed me snugly against his chest. The brandy-flavored kiss gentled and lengthened.
Excitement rushed through my veins as his words, “strengthen a man's ardor,” echoed in my brain.

Maybe this time he'd see me between investigations. Maybe this time he saw me as duchess material instead of as a mistress.

He broke off the kiss but his arms stayed around me. His voice rumbled breathlessly as he said, “I find the more I do this, the more I want to.”

I smiled at him almost like a conspirator. “I'm glad you find it agreeable.” Then I laid my head against his shoulder, my eyes squeezed tightly against my tears. “Oh, Blackford. I could have lost you today.”

He held me in a protective embrace. “I could have lost you, too. And I don't want to ever lose you.”

The carriage stopped and a thump came from the driver's seat.

“You're home,” he said with what I almost thought was a sigh. Perhaps the sigh was mine.

I glanced out through the gap in the curtains. “Yes.”

“I'll see you tomorrow if you can tear yourself away from the wedding plans.”

Wedding plans? Wedding plans! Oh, goodness gracious—and then I realized he meant Sumner and Emma. I hoped he didn't see my expression sink before I said cheerfully, “I'm sure I can find time for you, Your Grace. You'll come by the shop?”

“I hope to.” He gently helped me out of the carriage and walked me to my door. “Good night, my brave Georgia. I hope you sleep peacefully tonight.”

“Thank you, Blackford. I hope you get some sleep as well.”

“I will, now that you've rescued us from the threat of burglars with dynamite and Russians with vengeance on their minds.”

“And Ivanov?”

“He won't hurt anyone ever again.”

His somber tone told me Ivanov's fate. “Is Sumner in trouble?”

“No. While Sumner was chasing Ivanov, he lost sight of him. He came around a corner, wondering which way the Russian had gone, just in time to see Ivanov go down under a fully loaded beer wagon's wheels. He died within moments.” Blackford put a final kiss on my forehead and walked away.

I went inside to find Emma and Phyllida discussing the wedding.

•   •   •

MUKOVSKI WAS MY
first customer the next day. I looked at him blankly as he walked into the bookshop with a package under his arm. He set it on the counter and opened it to reveal a dozen different two-shilling paper-covered novels.

Then I remembered our conversation the morning before in his print shop. He waited silently while I perused them, checking quality and the Russian community's knowledge of English. I'd seen much worse by native Englishmen. Frances came in and looked over my shoulder before choosing one of the volumes and beginning to read.

“What do you think?” I asked her.

“This one's quite good.”

I turned back to Mukovski. “What kind of a discount do you give bookshops?”

He looked at me blankly. Finally, he said, “I sell them for a shilling.”

I paid only a little more for the two-shilling copies I bought from regular distributors. “Fine. I'll buy them for a shilling each and contact you in a few days if we get any demand for them.”

We shook hands, I paid him, and we shelved the volumes, minus the one Frances was reading. From her interest, I felt certain
she'd sell any number of that story to our customers. I suspected I'd be contacting Mukovski soon.

Blackford came by the shop near lunchtime. I was on my own except for Dickens and was waiting on two customers at once. The duke glanced at some magazines that prominently proclaimed the engagement of the Duke of Sussex and Princess Kira while I transacted my business. Then he walked to the window box and petted Dickens. Dickens rolled onto his side and stretched, knocking over a display of mathematics texts.

After the second woman left with her purchases, I turned to the display and righted the books. “Your Grace.”

He gestured to a magazine covering the engagement of the princess. “If they only knew.”

Dickens kicked the books over again and stretched out so I had no room to set up the display. I gave up and put the books back on the shelves. “I thought the whole point was that they wouldn't know.”

Blackford followed me. “True. Princess Kira has convinced Hereford and some others to put her up until the wedding so she doesn't have to go back to Russia. Sussex has been helping her twist some arms. And I understand the queen has thrown in her support by keeping the dowager duchess busy as one of her ladies-in-waiting for a full year.”

“She'll have to meet the dragon sometime.”

“The consensus is they shouldn't meet until after the honeymoon.”

“Oh, my.” Sussex's mother certainly had a reputation. “I hope someone has taken the princess off the hands of the Herefords.”

“News of the duchess's condition has been whispered about and a few of their friends have stepped in to help. The Herefords are going to their country estate so the duchess can have a long rest and paint in solitude.”

“What about Daisy's governess, Miss Whitten?”

“She decided to stay in London.”

“She has to. Her mother is ill and she has a young son.”

“She's won a scholarship to London University for teacher training. She'd started her studies before she became a mother. Now she'll be able to live at home and in a year or so, she'll be a fully qualified teacher with a good salary.”

“Can they afford the loss of her income for that long?”

“The scholarship came with a small stipend. I imagine they'll manage.”

I didn't know if Blackford was paying for all this, but he'd certainly arranged it. Behind his austere facade was a kind man, and I loved him, even if I didn't always understand him. I was certain Amelia Whitten would never suspect who was behind her scholarship and stipend.

After I watched Blackford play with Dickens for a moment, I asked, “Will the Russians let the princess stay here?”

“As far as the Russians are concerned, the princess can stay here and paint forever. Particularly after her father found out she'd been seeing her illegitimate sister. The Russian ambassador has released funds to pay for an English lady's maid for the princess and to cover her dressmaker's bills. I suspect Prince Pyotr was pressured by the tsar into providing more support for his daughter.”

“What about another chaperone to replace Lady Raminoff?”

“Whichever English aristocrat has her visiting will supply the chaperone. It's felt at Whitehall and Balmoral that we've had enough Russians visiting lately.”

“What about Mila? Did she ever return to Hereford House?”

“No. One of the Archivist Society members found her in the East End with her family, and no one is looking for her since Sir Broderick spread around the news that she's no danger to anyone.”

“Why was she stealing food?”

“No one in her family had a job. Now a couple of her brothers have jobs in a warehouse.”

“Do we have you to thank for that, Your Grace?”

Instead of replying, he said, “The family left her behind when they escaped Russia, planning to have her join them later when they raised funds for her passage. That's why she jumped at the chance to come here with Princess Kira. Mila had planned to abandon her from the start.”

Then he gave me a wide smile. “I understand Emma's wedding will be next week?”

“Yes. Sumner bought a license and our local vicar has set the date. You'll be there?”

“Yes. I wouldn't miss it. But I have to leave for America the next day.”

“You what?” My heart fluttered in my chest, unable to work properly. My vision narrowed until all I could see was Blackford's face.

“You remember the night at the Austrian embassy when I was called away from our waltz by some business partners?”

How could I forget? “This business requires your personal attention so soon? What about winter storms? Won't you have a rough voyage at this time of year?”

“Fortunately, I'm a good sailor. And my investments require my attention now. I have several in the States and in Canada and I can't let them go for too long between visits.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“I should return by spring.”

“Oh.” My heart was in my left half boot. My mood was under the floorboards.

“You'll have the entire Archivist Society to keep you busy on
investigations and you'll have to replace Emma in the shop. Your life will go on much as before here in London while some of us are traveling.”