Page 24 of To Catch A Rogue
"Breathe," Charlie told her, resting his hand on the middle of her back. "Don’t worry so much. We’ve taken every precaution we can."
He didn't understand.
The world she had once known—loving parents, brothers and sisters, a home—had been stolen from her in the space of a single night.
"I am breathing," she said, opening her eyes and swallowing the pain. She'd been trying to avoid him as much as possible in the last few days, but the cramped quarters on deck made it practically impossible. "You look better than you did yesterday."
He winced. "That was Barrons's fault. The captain invited several of us to dine with him, and someone opened the bottle of vodka. One bottle of vodka became lots of bottles of vodka. The captain's got an iron stomach."
She couldn't resist a small smile. "You were singing. Badly."
"I always sing badly."
"Aye. I'm fairly certain Blade had to put you to bed."
"Were you checking up on me?"
"It was the middle of the night. I couldn't help being aware of it. From the sound of it, Blade fell on his ass at some point."
"Well, he wasn't in much better condition than I was, and he was trying to get his boots off, I believe. I woke up with mine still on. My trousers were around my ankles, but apparently, I couldn’t get them over my boots."
"Two grown men who could barely put themselves to bed." Lark snickered. "You looked positively green yesterday."
"Lark," he growled under his breath. "Can we pretend that never happened?"
It was the one thing putting a smile on her face today.
"Never, my dear sugarplum," she promised.
Charlie groaned. "Who told you about that?"
"Well, Kincaid and Byrnes have a habit of calling you that, so I asked Ingrid why." Lark reached up and patted him on the cheek. "She told me some story about how Gemma christened you "sugarplum" because you're so sweet."
"I will throw you overboard if you mention that word ever again," he growled.
"Now Charlie, that's not very nice. Whatever would Gemma and the others think? You've managed to fool them so well...." Lark burst into laughter at the look on his face.
"Are you done?" he asked, once her laughter finally subsided.
Which set her off again, a fact Charlie studiously pretended to ignore as he surveyed the city below them. "So this is Russia."
Just like that, her mirth vanished.
"This is Russia." She took a deep breath. "What's the plan?"
"We're part of the diplomatic party so we have to play nice," Charlie replied, leaning on his elbows on the rail beside her as the airship began to descend. The little figures on the ground started growing larger. "Gemma's been running Malloryn's spy network into the ground for weeks now. One of his Russian-based agents is going to liaise with us once we arrive. He said Lord Balfour is masquerading as Vladimir Feodorevna, the consort of Grand Duchess Tatiana Feodorevna."
"He married a member of the Imperial family?"
"She's a great-granddaughter of the tsarina, I believe."
The immensity of the task ahead of them finally struck her. "If he has the power of the tsarina behind him...."
"I doubt it. Balfour's slippery. He prefers to stay in the background and pull strings. He'll either ingratiate himself with those in power, or blackmail them. It's highly unlikely he's managed to extend his grip to reach the tsarina in the three years since he was forced out of England. Luther—our agent on the ground—has a list of every building Feodorevna owns, so we're going to start there."
"Why would you risk everything to save one man?"
"Would you come to Russia if it were Blade who'd been taken?"
