Scandalous Deception (Russian Connection 1)

And in truth, she was not at all certain what was to happen to her when the man was forced to accept that his plot had failed.

Nothing good, she was certain of that.

Trembling with a combination of fear and cold, she cleared the lump in her throat.

“Where are you taking me?”

A cruel smile touched his lips, as if he were pleased by the apprehension she could not entirely disguise.

“It is a question that has plagued me the greater part of the day,” he drawled. “Despite your modest refusal to accept that Edmond is utterly enthralled, I do not doubt for a moment that he will come in search of you. I promised my…friends that I would lead him away from St. Petersburg, perhaps even as far as Novgorod.”

Brianna swallowed her groan of despair. Dear lord, how far away was Novgorod? An hour? A day? A week?

And more important, how would she ever make her way back to St. Petersburg? That was presuming she managed to free herself from Viktor Kazakov before he…

No.

She would not give in to despair.

With a grim effort, she unclenched her teeth and considered her options. They were pathetically few, but not nonexistent, she sternly reminded herself as she frantically attempted to recall everything that Edmond had said of this traitorous gentleman.

She recalled that Edmond had claimed the man was cunning, powerful and obsessively dedicated to overthrowing Alexander Pavlovich.

He also said that he was vain, selfish and desperate to claim glory for himself. Which surely meant that he had to be less than pleased with his role as decoy while others were publicly leading the revolt.

“So far?” she murmured softly, her brow wrinkled with a feigned hint of puzzlement. “I would have thought your presence would have been essential during such a momentous event.”

His smile remained, but in the flicker of the carriage’s gas lights Brianna did not miss the darkening of his eyes.

“My efforts have ensured that all is set into place.”

“I…see.” Her voice was filled with doubt. “So you are not the leader of the conspirators?”

A flush touched Viktor’s high cheekbones. Whether it was anger toward her probing or annoyance at not being able to claim ownership of the revolt was impossible to determine.

“I will not deny I am…disappointed not to have the pleasure of watching the final, glorious destruction of the Romanov rule. It is, after all, what I have struggled to achieve since Alexander Pavlovich murdered his way to the throne.”

“Yes, it hardly seems fair that you should be trapped in a miserable carriage, while others are celebrating your victory,” Brianna murmured. “And perhaps doing more than merely celebrating.”

The dark eyes narrowed. “Precisely what are you implying, ma belle?”

She did not have to feign her shiver. Despite the heavy blanket, she felt as if the frigid air was freezing the blood in her veins. She had not been so cold since she had been a child and managed to lock herself in her father’s icehouse. She shivered again as she recalled that it had been Edmond who had heard her screams for help and rescued her.

On this occasion, she would have no one to depend upon but herself.

Astonishingly, the rather dark thought helped to stiffen her spine.

“If you do manage to overthrow the throne, then there will be a mad scramble for power, will there not? You can hardly claim your share if you are in Novgorod.” She abruptly widened her eyes, as if struck by a sudden thought. “Oh. But then, that is no doubt the reason you were urged to take me there in the first place.”

“You know nothing of my compatriots. I would trust them with my very life.” His hands curled into fists as they lay on his lap, belying his determined air of nonchalance. “And there will be no mad scramble, as you so charmingly claim. The throne will be handed to the one best suited to lead.”

“And who is that?”

“Such an important matter will be decided by the Russian nobles, of course.”

His words were smooth enough to reveal he had practiced them on several occasions, but Brianna sensed the dark hunger behind them. Viktor Kazakov might be willing to mouth all the proper sentiments, but his heart lusted for power. A lust that she did not doubt was shared by more than one of his conspirators.

Did he suspect as much, as well?