Scandalous Deception (Russian Connection 1)

“You managed to join Boris and follow Kazakov from the ship?”

A silver brow arched at the question. Herrick rarely made mistakes. And even more rarely had his considerable skills doubted.

“Of course. As you suspected, he traveled directly to his cousin’s home.”

Edmond grimaced. Fedor Dubov was a feeble imitation of his elder cousin Viktor. He would never possess Viktor’s position or wealth or even charisma, but he was a dependable toady who was readily used by others.

“Bastard.”

Herrick held up a gaunt hand. “There is more.”

“What?”

“I have never trusted Fedor Dubov’s seeming acceptance of Alexander’s refusal to consider him a member of his council.”

Edmond laughed sharply at the mere notion of offering the fool a position of trust.

“Mon dieu. The man claimed that Alexander murdered his own father. Did he think that would be forgotten?”

Tugging his fur-lined cape tighter around his body, Herrick shrugged.

“Many others said the same, some of whom are even now in places of power among the government.”

“They were at least wise enough to whisper their suspicions in private, not publicly announce them before the entire Russian Court. He was fortunate not to face the firing squad.”

Herrick reached beneath his cloak to pull out a folded piece of parchment that he handed to Edmond.

“His fortune may have just come to an end.”

Edmond smoothed open the parchment with a frown. “What have you discovered?”

“That message was sent to the Winter Palace only moments after Viktor Kazakov’s arrival in St. Petersburg.”

The handwriting was rough, nearly illegible, but Edmond managed to make out the Voltaire quote, along with a short message at the end.

“All murderers are punished unless they kill in large numbers and to the sound of trumpets. The time is upon us…I await your call.”

His blood ran cold.

“How did you come by this?”

“As I said, I have never trusted Fedor Dubov, so I have been paying a number of his servants to keep me apprised of his movements and of those who visit.” He pointed toward the note in Edmond’s hand. “One of them was quick enough to copy the message before it was sent. I received it only moments ago.”

Edmond cursed beneath his breath. Kazakov clearly had no desire to waste even a moment before claiming the power he always felt his due.

“Who was the message being delivered to?”

“I fear the servant did not know. Kazakov sent his personal valet to the palace and the man is annoyingly loyal.” The shrewd brown eyes narrowed with a grim determination. “I have commanded those who are keeping a watch upon Fedor Dubov’s home to follow the valet upon the next occasion he leaves the house.”

“Mon dieu.” Crumpling the note, Edmond tossed it onto the floor of the sleigh. It was as if he were standing before an avalanche that he was powerless to halt, an unbearable sensation that he had not endured since the death of his parents.

Herrick’s gaze was knowing as he studied the frustration that tightened Edmond’s expression.

“We will discover who is behind this treachery.”

Edmond reached for the brandy bottle that was kept in a small compartment next to his companion. With a smooth motion, he lifted it to his lips and took a deep swig. The welcome burn of the fine spirits helped to ease the chill that was settled in the pit of his stomach.

“Have you had word from the Czar?”