Page 32 of A Swirl of Shadows
“What Arianna means is that our greatest strengths are sometimes our worst weaknesses,” said Saybrook. “And the two of us both know that from painful experience.”
Their show of support warmed away the unnatural paleness from Sophia’s skin. “I—I understand what you are saying. And I shall be alert to the major’s wiles.” She looked away for a moment. “I just have one question. If we don’t show him a modicum of trust, how will we ever know whether he is or isn’t on our side?”
“I don’t have an answer for that,” admitted Arianna. “I suppose we’ll have to feel it out as we go along,”
“Fair enough,” answered Sophia. After a small hesitation, she added, “For now.”
A flurry of shouts sounded from above, and a sudden lurch nearly knocked them off their feet.
“We’ve cast off from the wharf and the wind is in our sails,” remarked Saybrook. “The journey has begun.”
Arianna liftedher face to the freshening breeze, listening to the hum of the rigging and the slap of the waves against the hull as the sails filled and the ship headed out to sea. A frisson of excitement tingled down her spine. There was always a sense of exhilaration when setting out on an adventure . . .
“You’re smiling,” murmured Saybrook as he placed his palms on the ship’s rail. The first lieutenant had informed them that as special guests of the government they were permitted on the quarterdeck, a space normally reserved for the captain and officers.
“Alas, as Wolffy mentioned to me earlier, I’m an unnatural female, who seems to find pleasure in things that should terrify those of my sex.” Her smile widened as she joined him in watching the stately buildings of the Royal Hospital drift by. “But I hardly need to tell you that.”
A chuckle. “It was a lesson I quickly learned during our first encounter—when you attacked me with a carving knife.”
“You were never in mortal peril. I was merely trying to get to the kitchen door and make my escape.”
His hand covered hers, its warmth accentuated by the crisp breeze. “Even in my opium-fogged state, I knew I didn’t want to let you leave my life.”
“Even though—” she began, and then fell silent at the scuff of steps approaching.
“Saybrook,” said Wolff, a twinkle lighting his eyes as the three of them went through the ritual of formal introductions. Anyone seeing them from afar would assume that they had never met before. “How should we play this journey?” The consummate actor, Wolff clearly relished the thought of slipping into whatever role they decided would suit their purposes. “Shall we discover that we have a mutual friend, and that draws us together?”
“Grentham?” suggested Arianna, which made him chuckle.
“That may be cutting too close to the bone,” said Wolff. “I was thinking of a fellow scholar . . . say, a Russian botanist. And as I, too, am familiar with the flora of the taiga and steppes of Russia, you’ll be interested in spending time with me and learning what I know.”
“You don’t know the first thing about plants,” she pointed out.
The mischievous look in his gaze sharpened. “I daresay nobody else aboard this ship does either.” He shifted his stance. “Besides, I took the liberty of bringing along some books on the subject, and have memorized an impressive list of Latin plant names.”
“Which begs the question of how you knew you were going to be meeting up with us,” interjected Saybrook. “And why the devil you’re part of this mission to Russia.”
Wolff’s playful grin gave way to a more serious expression. “I’m here because of Baroness Gruzinsky’s death.”
“How—” began Arianna.
“I shall explain that in a moment,” interjected Wolff. “But first, I had better tell you a few things that will clarify the present situation.”
“Try to make them the truth, rather than a series of Canterbury tales,” said Arianna. “As you well know, Sandro doesn’t always appreciate your sense of humor.”
“Trust me, having experienced it once . . .” He darted a glance at the earl’s profile, which at the moment looked like it was chiseled out of granite. “I have no desire to spark His Lordship’s wrath ever again.”
“A very wise thought,” intoned Saybrook.
Wolff cleared his throat.
“So,” continued the earl, “the last we heard, you and Lady Plessy-Moritz were headed to America on Captain Hamilton’s ship to start a new life.”
“Yes, well . . . on further thought, we decided to revert to our original plan of debarking in Italy,” said Wolff. “And then made our way up to the German principalities, where Jelena felt more at home.” He paused. “By the by, we were married six months ago.”
Arianna stared at him in shock. “You?But you’ve always made a mockery of matrimony.”
“I suppose it’s only fitting that I fell victim to Cupid and his arrow.” He sighed. “I must be getting old, for the prospect of a stable life suddenly didn’t seem so awful. And, er, well, Johannes never knew his father, and I wished to be there for him.”
