Scandalous Deception (Russian Connection 1)

A hint of desperation rippled over her countenance. “No, you must return to St. Petersburg.”

“I have every intention of returning, just as soon as I can arrange our carriage.” He brushed a stray curl from her cheek. “For now, I beg you to be patient.”

“No.” She gave a shake of her head, wincing as the movement jarred her wounded shoulder. “I was only taken to lure you from the city. They are planning the revolt tonight.”

“Shh.” He pressed a gentle finger to her lips. “I know of their plans.”

“Then you know that you must

be there to halt them.”

“That duty falls to another.” He cupped her chin in his hand, capturing and holding her fretful gaze. “On this night, you are all that matters.”

“But…”

Edmond placed his hand over her mouth at the screech of a door opening behind him. Still on his knees he turned, his pistol pointed at the dark figure that stepped through the side door.

“Bloody hell, do not shoot, Edmond,” Boris muttered, shaking his head to rid himself of the clinging snow. “Although I would prefer a bullet in my arse to returning to that damnable blizzard.”

“Are you not supposed to be keeping a watch upon Viktor’s riders?”

With an encompassing glance that took in Viktor Kazakov’s unconscious form and the wounded woman, Boris grimaced.

“I foolishly thought you might wish to know that they are currently standing near the front entrance arguing over whether they should enter the church to ensure that their master is well and hearty.”

“Damn.”

Edmond glanced down at Brianna’s pale face and thick crescent of lashes that had lowered to lie against her cheeks, as if she were too weary to keep them lifted.

Realizing they could not simply flee with Brianna so gravely injured, Boris drew his pistol and glanced toward the empty nave.

“How many times have I told you that a proper church should have pews?” he muttered. “Who knows when a gentleman might have need of blocking the doors?”

“I thought you wanted pews so that you could doze through the service.”

“Well, there is that.” Boris turned toward the sanctuary. “What of the altar? Is there anything there we can use to obstruct the door?”

“Not unless there is a key hidden among the gold and incense.”

“So be it. Then we clearly have to kill them.”

“I believe I have another suggestion.” He glanced toward his loyal companion, even as his fingers unconsciously stroked through Brianna’s curls.

“Well?” Boris prompted when Edmond hesitated. “What is this suggestion?”

“I need a distraction.”

Boris frowned. “I can lure a few away from the church, but I doubt that I can convince all of them to follow me.”

“They will if they believe that Viktor is commanding them to follow you.”

“Perhaps. Unfortunately, he does not appear to be in the most cooperative mood at the moment.”

“We shall see.”

Boris watched in silence as Edmond moved to Viktor Kazakov and roughly jerked the heavy greatcoat from his body and tugged it on. He could not keep his skepticism to himself, however, as Edmond placed Viktor’s hat on his head and wrapped the muffler around his neck.

“You believe a coat and hat will disguise you as Viktor Kazakov?”