The Royal Assassin (21 page)

My attention was caught by a snort that turned into a cough. Blackford stood in the doorway to the hall. “They're looking for Nadia, but they don't hold out much hope she'll resurface. They think it likely she's headed back to Russia.”

I shook my head. “No. She wouldn't go someplace where she's known and not wanted. How much do you think Griekev and she kept from their burglaries?”

“Almost everything was recovered by the police.”

“If they had a lot of valuables they could sell to maintain their lifestyle, I would have guessed they'd go to the continent. They could pass themselves off as anyone. But with no money? I'm sure they're staying in London, looking for a way to raise another fortune.”

He looked glum. “The only question is how.”

A bobby came in and asked the princess and Sussex to speak to the police inspector. They left, and Blackford followed them out of the room. A moment later, I could hear him speak to the Russian ambassador and Grand Duke Vassily.

Mila and Nadia were both missing. I needed to get the Archivist Society looking for them. I rose and slipped around by back halls to the front door, where a helmeted constable stood on guard. “I just need to post a letter for Her Grace. I'll be back in a few minutes,” I assured the youngster as I picked up an umbrella and walked past him.

The bobby looked like he should still be in school. Fortunately, he was as green and innocent as a schoolboy. He let me pass without question.

I went out to the sidewalk and walked next door. The butler was getting used to me showing up on Blackford's front step. “Hello, Stevens. I need to use the telephone.”

He opened the door farther, a dubious expression on his face. “His Grace is not in at the moment.”

“I know. He's next door. I just left him.” I walked past Stevens and down the hall to the study. Once there, I picked up the instrument and spoke into the mouthpiece, giving the number.

Jacob answered the phone.

“Get Sir Broderick immediately. And listen in. We need your help, too.”

Sir Broderick came on a full minute or two later. “I was downstairs, Georgia. What is going on?”

“Both Mila and Nadia have disappeared, and someone rigged dynamite to blow up Hereford House. I think it was Nadia. And I think she's Griekev's accomplice in the robberies.”

“Good grief. I'll have everyone in the Archivist Society on the lookout for both women.”

“Nadia probably waited for the house to blow up. When it didn't and the police came, she would have gone into hiding. She and Griekev must be plotting a way to raise a lot of money quickly so they can leave the country.”

“Then she'll be dangerous. And Mila?”

“She's been stealing food from the house. Check the Russian community in the East End for some poor immigrant relations of hers. We need to talk to her to clear her, but I don't think she's a danger.”

“And if you're wrong?” Sir Broderick asked.

“I don't think I am.”

“I'll send Jacob and the others to the East End to look for Mila, Nadia, and Griekev. I'll tell them to report their sightings of Nadia and Griekev to a constable. The sightings of Mila can safely be reported to me if you're sure.”

“I am.” I thanked him and rang off.

I slipped out of Blackford House and walked next door as if I was doing exactly what I should be doing. An older bobby was on duty in the doorway now and he immediately challenged me. “Are you Miss Peabody?”

“Yes.”

He put a forceful grip on my shoulder. “We're trying to find the bomber and the guv wants a word with you.”

“Tell him you found me, and all will be well.” At least I hoped so.

Not releasing his grip on my shoulder, he dragged me at a quick trot into the house. “Sir. Sir! I found the woman who escaped.”

“G
OOD
lad.” The inspector came into view around a corner. Inspector Edward Grantham—Eddy to his grandmother Lady Westover—stopped and blinked when he saw me. I had a half second's fear that he'd give me away before he said, “Miss Peabody? If I could have a few minutes of your time?”

“Of course, Inspector.”

I shook off the constable's grip and followed Inspector Grantham to the morning room, where Blackford and another constable waited for us. As soon as he shut the door, Grantham turned to me and said, “Georgia? You're the one who cut the fuse and kept everyone in this house from being killed?”

I nodded. I wasn't sure if I could think about that moment even now without losing my breakfast.

“Well done. Where did you learn about bombs?”

“I've read about them. I've never actually seen—” My first view of the sticks of dynamite came back to me again and I dropped into a chair.

“She's still looking pale. As soon as you're done with her, I'm taking her home in my carriage,” Blackford said.

I gave a sigh of relief. Now that the danger was past, all my limbs felt weak. I didn't relish the idea of riding home in the rain on an omnibus.

“Yes, of course,” Grantham said. “How long has the Archivist Society been involved, and have you involved my grandmother?”

“Not long. We were brought in on the Russian murders by the Foreign Office, and the burglary cases by Lord Shepherdston. Your grandmother doesn't know a thing.”

He nodded, and I released a sigh. If he thought the Archivist Society had involved her in anything dangerous, he'd forbid her from ever working with us again. “Tell me what has happened here, starting with this morning.”

I skipped the visit I paid with Amelia Whitten and started my story from when I entered the princess's room. When I finished, Grantham allowed Blackford and me to leave and we headed for his coach house.

“We'll take the ordinary coach,” Blackford told his coachman. “After I see you home, I'll stop round Sir Broderick's and tell him to alert the Archivist Society.”

“I called him already. Stevens let me use your phone. And if he asks, tell him you knew I would call from your house.”

Blackford didn't trouble to hide his smile. “Stevens won't ask. I think he secretly admires you for the work you and the Archivist Society perform, even if he's shocked that a lady would put herself at such risk.”

“That's because I'm not a lady. I'm an ordinary person, just like he is.”

“No, Georgia. Stevens and I agree. You are a lady.”

He sees me as a lady
. I could have danced around the coach
house. My heart did a waltz in my chest as a smile spread across my face. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

“Don't thank me. Nature made you one of the great ladies in England.”

Heat burned my cheeks. I must have been blushing the color of a ruby. I could barely contain my desire to hop up and down in a most unladylike manner. Instead, I gave him a regal nod, and he helped me into the coach.

I was amazed at how sunny a rainy London day could be. We congratulated each other on being alive after our brush with explosives, and then he gave my hand a squeeze. I will save my glove for all time in remembrance of the thrill that shot through my body.

“Do you think the Duke of Hereford will return to London now?” I asked.

“If he doesn't, I will ride out to his estate and drag him back,” Blackford said with some heat.

“Especially since—” I stopped, remembering my promise.

“Yes?”

“I promised not to say.”

“That she's increasing?”

“You know?” I felt a rush of warmth throughout my body at discussing such a subject with a man. Blackford was more observant than I thought.

“I've seen a great deal of her lately. It's been hard to miss. She needs Hereford here, not those Russians.”

“When does Princess Kira go back to St. Petersburg?”

“Only God and the Russians know that.” His tone matched the duchess's whenever the subject of Princess Kira's departure was mentioned.

“Let's hope it's soon. Nadia and Griekev need money to
escape in style, and the princess is foolish enough to help them in their scheme. Princess Kira still believes in her sister. You can see it in her eyes.”

“Help her escape in style.” Blackford stared out the window of the carriage for a minute. “Why wouldn't they just escape?”

“Ivanov would. We know Ivanov killed the Russian soldier on the train and the footman of the marquis. We'll hang him if we get the chance. Has Sumner found him yet?”

“Not yet,” Blackford said.

Another shovelful of worry landed on my shoulders. I'd hoped Sumner had already returned safely. Shaking off my concern, I said, “Nadia and Griekev would go to prison for the robberies, not hang from a noose. But life without money, without the trappings of an upper-crust existence, would be as bad as jail for that pair.” I watched Blackford consider my words.

Finally, he nodded. “I wish you weren't right, Georgia, but I fear you are. Ah, we're here. I want you to go straight to bed and get some sleep.”

He helped me down from the carriage, no great feat from his ordinary coach, but he made very sure I had my legs under me before he let me go. We walked up to the flat and I used my key to open the door.

I turned then and said, “Thank you, Your Grace.”

“Thank you, Georgia.”

We stood there, looking into each other's eyes, gaining a closeness I hadn't expected to feel when I left home that morning. We'd nearly died together. Now our lives would always be intertwined.

“Georgia. You're back. Emma's doing so much better. Oh, Duke, I didn't see you there.” Phyllida came up behind us, opening the door wider.

She curtsied; he bowed. “See Miss Fenchurch gets some rest. She's had a harrowing morning. Ladies.” He tipped his hat and walked off.

“Harrowing? Georgia, what happened?” she asked, shutting the door.

“I'll tell you later. Right now, I need to get some sleep. Could I get you to undo my corset?” I walked toward my bedroom on shaky legs.

In five minutes, I was undressed, in bed, and asleep.

•   •   •

WE WERE DRESSED
and finishing our dinner of roast chicken, vegetables, and rolls when I asked Emma for what felt like the twenty-seventh time, “Are you sure you feel up to attending the meeting at Sir Broderick's tonight?”

“Yes. A nice walk in the evening air and then a meeting to figure out how to catch the people who nearly killed me. What could be better?” She gave me a hard look, which was reinforced by her bruises. When Emma was determined, there was little point in arguing.

“Should you go out tonight, Georgia?” Phyllida asked. “You've had very little rest, and Blackford said you had a harrowing day. One I haven't heard about yet. How did you burn your fingers?”

I shot Emma a stare when she opened her mouth and she shut it again. “It's not important now.”

Phyllida gave me a steely look. “So it was important then.”

“You've been hanging around the Archivist Society for too long. You've developed a suspicious mind.”

Emma turned laughter into a cough.

“I'm waiting.”

I made it look like I had given in. “There was a hot piece of wire. Not knowing it was hot, I picked it up and burned my hand.”

Phyllida didn't look like she believed me. “And you're still certain you should go out tonight?”

“Emma and I will both go and take care of each other.”

“I don't like this, but I've learned to accept it. Come on, let's clear the table so we can get these dishes done.” Phyllida rose and carried the roast platter out.

We'd followed her into the kitchen with our hands full when we heard a pounding on the front door. “Now, who could that be?” Phyllida asked, her apron forgotten in her hand.

“I'll see,” I said and set down the dishes I carried. I rushed down the hall and opened the door to find Grace Yates standing in front of me.

“Grace, has something happened at the bookshop?”

“No.” She shook her head and tried to catch her breath. “I've been sent to get the Archivist Society together early.”

“What's happened?”

She grabbed my arm and gasped, “Princess Kira has been kidnapped.”

“If she's disappeared again . . .” I grumbled. The princess was still capable of ruining her future.

“The Russian ambassador just received a ransom letter asking for ten thousand pounds in jewels.”

I stood in the doorway staring at Grace, my mind refusing to accept her words. “Ten thousand?”

She nodded.

Good heavens.
Griekev and Nadia had found a way to raise a fortune for their escape. “Does Blackford know?”

“The duchess sent a footman to his house as soon as they
realized the princess was missing. Soon after, he was called in by Whitehall when the Russian ambassador asked for their help.”

I gazed at Grace for a moment, taking in the new danger. “We'll meet you at Sir Broderick's.”

Grace hurried off and I went back to the kitchen. Emma took one look at my face and pulled off her apron.

“What's happened?” Phyllida asked. When I told her, she said, “The poor girl. You both have to go,” and returned to the dishes.

Emma and I put on cloaks, hats, and gloves, said our good-byes, and hurried out into the night. “All right,” she said when we were a half block from home, “what happened today?”

I filled her in on everything. When I reached the lit fuse on the dynamite, her eyes widened and she grabbed my arm, but she didn't say anything to slow the memories I struggled to put into words.

By the time I finished my tale, we were knocking on Sir Broderick's door. Jacob answered and took our cloaks. “We're in the study tonight,” he said.

“Why? Is Sir Broderick unwell?”

“No, but that's where we've always held our counsels of war. He doesn't want the parlor tainted with this business.”

I had known Sir Broderick longer than the rest of the Archivist Society. My heart sank. “He doesn't think this will end well.”

Jacob looked from one of us to the other. “No.”

When we walked up the stairs, we found Sir Broderick in his usual spot in front of the roaring fire. Frances sat on one of the sofas, scone crumbs on her front. Dominique was serving tea to Adam Fogarty. There was a sizable group of Archivist Society members, some of whom I'd not seen in some time. I walked around, greeting old friends, while Emma headed straight for Sumner.

“Who's he?” I was asked more than once.

My answer was always, “Mr. Sumner, a former military officer and an employee of the Duke of Blackford.”

“He looks like a villain,” someone said.

“Only if you're on the wrong side of the law or you're rude to Emma.”

“They have an understanding?” one of the men asked, disappointment in his tone.

“Yes.”

Several men groaned. I knew Emma was beautiful, but I didn't realize how popular she was in the Archivist Society.

The one who asked if she had an understanding with Sumner said, “Well, if he was an officer, he must be well educated and come from a good family.”

That had never occurred to me, and my lack of insight surprised me. Once again, I was reminded of how my mind immediately went to Blackford whenever I saw Sumner.

Seeing him now, I wondered where Ivanov was. Unfortunately, this wasn't the time to ask.

I glanced around the room. “Where's Mrs. Hardwick?”

“Gone to visit her sister who's ill.”

That explained a meeting with all of us crowded into the study. Mrs. Hardwick was the only person who'd been able to convince Sir Broderick to expand his physical horizons.

“Shall we begin this meeting?” Sir Broderick said in a loud voice as he clapped his hands.

We all obediently sat down, except for Adam Fogarty, who paced the back of the room. Emma crowded onto a sofa with Sumner and Jacob. I watched several male faces fall. Emma was definitely a favorite of the men in our group.

“At five o'clock, a message arrived for the Russian ambassador,
asking for ten thousand pounds' worth of jewels in exchange for the release of Princess Kira, currently on a visit to London to meet her fiancé, the Duke of Sussex. They immediately confirmed that the princess had disappeared from Hereford House, where she is a guest. The Duke of Sussex hasn't heard from her and has no idea where she is.”

“Is the princess's safety worth that much?” one of the group asked.

“In light of our shaky relationship with Russia and the princess's royal connections to the tsar, whatever the ambassador can't raise, the British government will have to.”

“Do we know for certain Nadia and Griekev are behind this?” I asked.