“You might as well start with the good news.”
Victor propped his shiny black boots up on the edge of the desk, leaned back and popped a piece of bread into his mouth. “Well.” He paused to chew and swallow. “Most of what the informant said was confirmed by the maid. Sergi staged a shipwreck. When Nicoli came to his aid the Cossacks ambushed him. Sergi killed Nicoli himself. He had his crew throw Nicoli’s body and those of his men overboard. They took the ship and sailed to England. Posing as Nicoli he tried to solicit British funds and aid to over throw the tsar.”
Victor paused while he poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot on the desk. Dimitry passed his cup which his cousin filled and then placed the pot back on the desk. He leaned back in his chair and continued. “Anyway, he saw a chance to kidnap Princess Elizabeth and took it. He planned on blackmailing her family. By now, there are probably a dozen British war ships on their way here. However, we foiled Sergi’s plan when we unwittingly rescued her.” He took a sip of his coffee and grinned.
Dimitry stared at his cousin slaw jawed for a moment. “That is the good news? What could be worse than an army of angry British invading Russia?”
Victor cleared his throat, refusing to meet Dimitry’s gaze. “Ah, well it seems that your current house guest is, according to her maid, engaged to the French Emperor or something of that nature. A ransom letter was also sent to him.”
Dimitry dropped his fork and let loose a string of obscenities. “Not only do I have the British to deal with, but I have the French too? Relations with France have not been exactly friendly since Napoleon tried to take over our country, if you recall.”
“Then you will get a crash course in diplomacy,” Victor joked. Dimitry scowled at him as he stood and brushed the crumbs from his embroidered waistcoat. “That reminds me, how is our patient doing?”
“Our patient awoke this morning so why not go see for yourself,” Dimitry grumbled.
“Wonderful! What did she have to say?”
“Not much.” Dimitry stood and opened the study door. “She certainly did not mention she was engaged.” He stomped out the door and down the hall calling for his horse to be saddled.
* * * *
Dimitry put his elbow on the desk and rested his head on his hand. He couldn’t make any sense of the ship’s log book in front of him. There didn’t seem to be any mention of the shipwreck Nicoli was killed in. There should have been some sort of notation of the date, time, and geographical location when the wreck was first sighted. He flipped through the last few pages and then pushed the book away from him. One of the sailors in Nicoli’s crew had to have been a spy. There was no other explanation for the lack of documentation. He glanced at the clock. It was fast approaching dinner time. He stood up and left the vessel with a brief nod to the few sailors that looked up from repairing the splintered railing.
He had barely set foot on the dock when one of his personal guards rushed forward with his horse. He mounted the frisky animal and galloped from the shipyard without pause, knowing the annoying convoy of guards would be scrambling to catch up. If he had to put up with being followed twenty-four hours a day he certainly wasn’t about to make it easy on them, although he supposed that was the price one had to pay when they served the tsar.
He was almost back to the house before the edge had been taken off his horse enough that it would trot. Taking a deep breath he savored the blossoming trees and thought about his estate in the country. He hadn’t been back there since this time last year. His mares would be foaling right about now. A smile crept to his lips as he remembered how animated the new babies looked as they frisked along beside their dams. Things were so much simpler back then. Maybe he should just decline the tsar’s request and hand over the job of trying to
Victor propped his shiny black boots up on the edge of the desk, leaned back and popped a piece of bread into his mouth. “Well.” He paused to chew and swallow. “Most of what the informant said was confirmed by the maid. Sergi staged a shipwreck. When Nicoli came to his aid the Cossacks ambushed him. Sergi killed Nicoli himself. He had his crew throw Nicoli’s body and those of his men overboard. They took the ship and sailed to England. Posing as Nicoli he tried to solicit British funds and aid to over throw the tsar.”
Victor paused while he poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot on the desk. Dimitry passed his cup which his cousin filled and then placed the pot back on the desk. He leaned back in his chair and continued. “Anyway, he saw a chance to kidnap Princess Elizabeth and took it. He planned on blackmailing her family. By now, there are probably a dozen British war ships on their way here. However, we foiled Sergi’s plan when we unwittingly rescued her.” He took a sip of his coffee and grinned.
Dimitry stared at his cousin slaw jawed for a moment. “That is the good news? What could be worse than an army of angry British invading Russia?”
Victor cleared his throat, refusing to meet Dimitry’s gaze. “Ah, well it seems that your current house guest is, according to her maid, engaged to the French Emperor or something of that nature. A ransom letter was also sent to him.”
Dimitry dropped his fork and let loose a string of obscenities. “Not only do I have the British to deal with, but I have the French too? Relations with France have not been exactly friendly since Napoleon tried to take over our country, if you recall.”
“Then you will get a crash course in diplomacy,” Victor joked. Dimitry scowled at him as he stood and brushed the crumbs from his embroidered waistcoat. “That reminds me, how is our patient doing?”
“Our patient awoke this morning so why not go see for yourself,” Dimitry grumbled.
“Wonderful! What did she have to say?”
“Not much.” Dimitry stood and opened the study door. “She certainly did not mention she was engaged.” He stomped out the door and down the hall calling for his horse to be saddled.
* * * *
Dimitry put his elbow on the desk and rested his head on his hand. He couldn’t make any sense of the ship’s log book in front of him. There didn’t seem to be any mention of the shipwreck Nicoli was killed in. There should have been some sort of notation of the date, time, and geographical location when the wreck was first sighted. He flipped through the last few pages and then pushed the book away from him. One of the sailors in Nicoli’s crew had to have been a spy. There was no other explanation for the lack of documentation. He glanced at the clock. It was fast approaching dinner time. He stood up and left the vessel with a brief nod to the few sailors that looked up from repairing the splintered railing.
He had barely set foot on the dock when one of his personal guards rushed forward with his horse. He mounted the frisky animal and galloped from the shipyard without pause, knowing the annoying convoy of guards would be scrambling to catch up. If he had to put up with being followed twenty-four hours a day he certainly wasn’t about to make it easy on them, although he supposed that was the price one had to pay when they served the tsar.
He was almost back to the house before the edge had been taken off his horse enough that it would trot. Taking a deep breath he savored the blossoming trees and thought about his estate in the country. He hadn’t been back there since this time last year. His mares would be foaling right about now. A smile crept to his lips as he remembered how animated the new babies looked as they frisked along beside their dams. Things were so much simpler back then. Maybe he should just decline the tsar’s request and hand over the job of trying to
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