Scandalous Deception (Russian Connection 1)

Grigori hissed at the same time that Edmond stiffened in shock. Christ. How had they discovered his presence?

“In St. Petersburg?” Grigori barked.

“Yes.” Fedor wiped his face again, his tension palpable in the air. “Viktor has a spy within Vanya Petrova’s household.”

Edmond silently swore to personally interview each and every one of Vanya’s staff. By the time he was done with his little chat, they would be praying that the Czar’s guard would arrive and haul them to the dungeons.

Grigori paced sharply toward an elegant Grecian statue, his hands clenched at his side as if his stoic composure were threatening to crack.

“Viktor promised me that Lord Edmond Summerville would be too occupied protecting his brother to trouble us.”

“It seems that my cousin was mistaken.”

Grigori turned and glared at the younger man.

“Do not make light of this, Fedor. Your family is obviously incapable of performing your roles, no matter how simple they might be, and somehow allowed the bastard to realize that the danger to the Duke of Huntley was no more than a ruse.” He gave a sharp bark of laughter. “God, I should have known better than to trust any of you. You have put us all at risk.”

Fedor blanched, his weak chin trembling. He might be a coward, but he was not stupid. He easily realized that the furious soldier was quite capable of breaking his neck.

“Lord Edmond will not be a problem,” he stammered.

“And how can you be so certain?” the older man demanded. “He has thwarted us on too many occasions.”

Fedor swiped his face with his handkerchief. “In the unlikely event that he manages to discover our plans, Viktor and I have ensured that he will not interfere.”

Edmond frowned even as Grigori made a sound of disgust. “Indeed? Will you put a bullet through his black heart?”

“A charming notion, although I am not foolish enough to pit my skills with a dueling pistol against the man,” Fedor muttered. “It is said that he has killed at least a dozen opponents.”

“I do not care if he has killed a thousand. How do you intend to keep him from bringing us to ruin?”

“Lord Edmond did not come to Russia alone. He brought his brother’s fiancée.”

“His brother’s fiancée?” Grigori scoffed. “You are mistaken. All know that the man is a ruthless bastard, but that he would do anything for his precious brother. That is the reason we decided to make the fool believe the Duke was in danger.”

“Which means that he must be desperate for this woman,” Fedor said, his voice shrill with nerves. “And willing to do anything to protect her.”

“You have her?” Grigori demanded.

“I received a message during dinner that Viktor is preparing to collect her from Vanya Petrova’s as we speak.”

“Preparing to collect her and managing to do so are two very different things. She will not be unprotected.”

“Viktor said in the message that he had caught Summerville’s servant, Boris, skulking outside my house and has him tied in the wine cellar until I can return and discreetly dispose of him. She is not nearly so protected as some might believe.”

“Where…” The soldier broke off his words with a muttered curse and, grasping Fedor by the arm he hauled him toward the nearby door. “Someone is coming. Join the others in the Hermitage. I must set matters in motion.”

“Now?”

“Lord Edmond will not be allowed to interfere this time.” Grigori marched from the hallway, but his words floated through the air. “I will have my throne.”

Above the two men, Edmond lowered his pistol to the ground as he struggled to breathe.

A very small part of him realized that it was his duty to follow Grigori from the Palace and discover the remaining traitors so they could be rounded up by the guards to await Alexander Pavlovich’s judgment. The intrigue was about to be unleashed, and God only knew how many innocent people would be hurt if it were not halted.

That small part of him, however, was no match for the stark panic that clutched at his heart.

Brianna.