Scandalous Deception (Russian Connection 1)

“Then she will remain my lover,” he growled. “Forever.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

EDMOND COMMANDED THAT Herrick leave him near the Cathedral of our Lady of Kazan. The church had been commissioned by Emperor Paul I and built in a similar style to St. Peter’s in Rome. The name was given by the Icon of Our Lady of Kazan who was supposed to have miraculously saved Moscow in 1612.

It was not the beauty of the dome or the colonnaded arms that swept outward in a graceful arch that lured Edmond to its steps. It was, instead, its proximity to the Nevsky Prospect and the Gostinny Dvor.

Keeping his hat pulled low and the heavy scarf wrapped around the lower half of his face, Edmond carefully traversed the snow-packed street toward a small coffeehouse near the busy shops. He entered the smoky warmth, and keeping his head low, weaved his way through the gathered crowd to a private room at the back.

He had barely managed to rid himself of his snow-dusted greatcoat and hat when a large, burly man with dark hair and eyes stepped into the small room that was barren except for a desk and wooden chair, closing the door behind him.

“Welcome home, Commander,” he rumbled, crossing the room to pull Edmond in a rough hug of welcome.

Edmond laughed as he disentangled from the thick arms that threatened to crush his ribs. Sergey had served with Edmond during the war and had proven his loyalty by taking a bullet to the shoulder that had been intended for Edmond. When Sergey had been forced to leave the military, Edmond had purchased this coffeehouse for the man, knowing the overly proud soldier would never accept his money.

“Good lord, I had no notion that a coffeehouse could attract such a crowd. I feared I might be trampled by the stampede of customers.”

Sergey ran his beefy hands down the expensive fabric of his jacket. “Ah, well, the citizens of St. Petersburg are wise enough to recognize a fine establishment.”

“They are indeed.” Knowing the gregarious man could talk the entire day, Edmond considered how best to come straight to the point of his visit. “Tell me what you have heard.”

The jovial expression faded from Sergey’s face to be replaced by a weary concern.

“The rumblings on the streets are as bad as I have ever heard them, Commander.”

Edmond frowned. “What do they say?”

/> “The usual complaints of the nobles squandering their wealth while their serfs starve. The peasants are poor, they are not blind. Their voices grow louder with each passing day.”

“Understandable, but as you say, all too common.”

“There is also a growing anger among the local merchants,” Sergey continued. “They resent the fashion of importing foreign goods rather than purchasing their wares from local craftsmen. The European ships clog our port and flood the markets with their wares.”

Edmond shrugged. It was more or less what he had expected. Too many lived in squalor, while a small handful displayed their wealth with gaudy splendor. For the moment, however, they were powerless.

“Viktor Kazakov would not seek serfs or merchants to assist him in overthrowing the Czar.” He shook his head. “They may mutter treason beneath their breath, but they are too fearful for outright revolt.”

Sergey folded his arms over his massive chest. “No doubt the French government was similarly confident.”

“Perhaps, but the Russians do not possess a Rousseau who is capable of stirring the masses to bloodshed.” Edmond’s stomach clenched at the mere thought. As much as he desired a better existence for the serfs, he would do everything in his power to avoid a bloody revolution. “At least not yet.”

“True enough.” The soldier’s brown eyes hardened with hatred. “They would never follow Viktor Kazakov. His brutality to his serfs is well-known.”

Edmond knew an answering hatred was echoed in his eyes. Viktor had long been rumored to treat his serfs as animals, raping girls no older than nine and beating more than one worker to death. Edmond would see him dead before he could claim power.

“Precisely.”

“You have your suspicions of who is prepared to assist Viktor Kazakov?”

“More a…vague fear.”

“Do you intend to share these vague fears?”

Edmond hid his smile at the clipped command. It seemed that once an officer, always an officer.

“Gather any associates that you still have in the military and question them closely. I want to know precisely what is being said and felt in the barracks.”

Sergey sucked in a sharp breath. “Good God.”