Page 30 of To Catch A Rogue
"What do you mean?"
"You speak Russian."
The comment came out of nowhere. Lark froze. "What?"
"You can lie, of course." Gemma continued circling her, tugging the bustle into place. "But you should know I was trained as a Falcon as a child, and then became one of Malloryn's agents when he offered me freedom." She pressed her fingertips to the flicker of pulse in Lark's throat from behind. "Your heartbeat just leaped through the roof, and if you were human, you'd be sweating."
Lark stared into her panicked reflection.Never tell anyone who you are. But she had to say something. "My uncle and I lived in a Russian neighborhood when we first arrived in London."
"Did you?"
"How did you...?"
"Know?" Gemma took a small pot and began to powder her face. "You watch the Russians when they speak as if you understand them. You tried not to laugh the other day when Captain Dansk tore strips off some of his aeronauts, even though the others were baffled. Some of the Rogues have a smattering of common phrases, but if I spoke quickly to them in Russian, they'd look confused. You're listening. I can see it. And you moved toward the house in response to Balfour's offer of refreshment before the direction was translated into English."
Simple little errors she'd have to be careful of in future.
"How well do you speak it?"
Lark hesitated. "It's been a long time, but I understand it quite well, and with every hour my grasp on it seems to be returning. Some words confuse me, but it’s coming back to me."
"It could be quite a handy asset," Gemma said, resting her hands on Lark's shoulders. "You would know what was being said around you. As long as you kept up the pretense you had no understanding of Russian, others might become freer with their words."
"You want me to spy."
"Shouldn't be any more difficult than slipping a lady's necklace from her neck, though I'd refrain from such habits tonight if I were you."
"Trust me," Lark whispered, still a little off-balance. "I have no intentions of crossing one of the Blood."
"Is there anything else I should know?"
"I speak a little French too." Excellent French, in fact. Some of it from her tutors, but most from the brief few months she'd spent living in France.
"Even better."This time Gemma didn't ask how she'd come to learn it.
* * *
"What's wrong?"Obsidian asked as Gemma fussed with his lapels.
She'd returned from town ten minutes ago, and had been chewing on her lip ever since.
"We're about to attend our first diplomatic ball as Lady Hollis and her charming fiancé, Dmitri Zhukov. Most of the people at the ball want to kill us, and are only looking for the chance to do so. We have less than ten days to find Malloryn and rescue him. Which reason do you prefer?"
"I'm supposed to be charming? Is that what's bothering you? You doubt me?"
"Ha."
He caught her silk-gloved wrists. "Gemma."
Gemma's shoulders softened in defeat. "Fine." She glanced around. "Lark speaks Russianverywell. She also lied to me. Not once, but twice. I gave her a chance to tell me the truth and she tried to sell me some story about living in the Russian area in London when she and her uncle first arrived."
He stroked his thumb over her pulse. "You think she's a spy?"
"I don't know." Gemma stared through his cravat thoughtfully. "She's been living with Blade since she was young. He took her and her uncle in, according to Charlie, and they've been loyal to him ever since."
"Perhaps she was telling the truth?"
Gemma shook her head. "No. I'm certain she's hiding something. And it's the first thing Malloryn taught me. Look for holes in people's stories. Look for elements that don't add up. Lark makes my skin itch every time she opens her mouth."
