by Jane Ashford
“Naturally. But it is a hard life, is it not? The efforts of an artist are so seldom rewarded as they deserve.”
Oliveri’s eyes blazed. “Imbeciles! Do they think we can live on air? But a great artist can rot in the gutter for all the world cares.”
Here was the crux of the matter, Laura thought. Oliveri was after money. Probably he sold whatever information he could glean to anyone who would buy. He was no more complex than that. “I must go,” she said, moving toward the door. The maid, who had understood none of their conversation, followed gratefully.
“But no. You must take a glass of wine, at least. I have not explained to you the allegorical elements of my painting.”
“I’m sorry, signor. I have an appointment.”
For a moment, it seemed that he would try to make her stay. Then his hands dropped to his sides, and he bowed. “A very great pleasure to see you, signorina. Please come back at any time.”
Laura nodded in acknowledgment and slipped through the door. It was rather a relief to descend the stairs and return to the street. Intrigue was quite fatiguing, she thought.
“Do we go home now, miss?” asked the maid.
She was about to say yes when a throaty voice declared, “I don’t believe it!” Laura turned and found herself facing Sophie Krelov.
“Michael said you were here, but I did not believe him,” Sophie added. She looked splendid, and angry, Laura thought. “Surely you are not one of Oliveri’s little tattlers? I thought he could afford only street children.”
The maid was gaping at the countess and her magnificent fur-trimmed pelisse. Laura wondered if the guinea she had given her would be enough to quell the temptation to tell such a good story. “Shall we walk?” Laura suggested, hoping to move out of earshot.
“In this part of the city? Don’t be ridiculous.” With an imperious gesture, Sophie summoned her carriage. When it drew up beside them and a footman hopped down to open the door, she added, “Yuri, go with this young lady and find a hack. You will pay for her to be driven home.”
She gave the Pryors’ address and sent the maid off with Yuri before Laura could decide whether to protest. She didn’t want the maid to hear any more, but neither was she particularly happy about being left alone with Sophie.
The latter practically pushed her into the carriage and then joined her. The vehicle started off as she said, “You deceived me. I don’t like being deceived.”
“I didn’t,” objected Laura.
“You told me you were some sort of governess.”
“I was…am.”
The countess made a derisive sound. “You do not act like a governess. For that matter, you don’t look like one. I was very foolish to believe you.”
“I assure you—”
“I don’t want assurances. I want the truth. Who do you work for?”
“No one.”
“What are your instructions regarding Gavin Graham?”
“I don’t—”
“What were you telling that little worm Oliveri?”
“Nothing,” said Laura firmly.
“I suppose you will say you went there to look at his painting,” Sophie jeered.
“No, I—”
“Indeed, no. No one looks at his painting. It is a transparent sham. What are you doing in Vienna? What is your game?”
Laura didn’t know what to say.
“If you think you can beat me, you are an idiot. I will grind you to dust.”
“General Pryor invited me here to keep Mr. Graham away from you,” Laura blurted out. She didn’t know whether this admission was wise, but she was certain that Sophie was a very dangerous enemy.
Sophie stared at her from narrow blue eyes. “Do you think me a fool? No one would do anything so ridiculous. Tell me the truth!”
Wonderful, Laura thought. She had taken the risk for nothing.
“Perhaps you don’t realize who you’re dealing with,” Sophie said softly. “I have friends who can make you speak—make you beg to speak.”
She was just trying to frighten her, Laura told herself.
Sophie reached into her reticule and pulled out a tiny pistol. “You doubt me?”
The carriage lurched, even as Laura’s heart seemed to lurch into her throat. The vehicle jerked to a halt accompanied by a chorus of shouts outside. Without pausing to think, Laura threw herself against the door and staggered out of the carriage onto the street. She barely noticed a heavy cart blocking the way before turning and running in the opposite direction. People stared at her, but she didn’t care. She turned a corner, and then another, and found herself on a busy commercial street. Spotting a drapers shop, she ducked inside and behind bolts of cloth stacked high on a counter. There were several customers, she saw, as well as the shop assistants.
Breathing hard, she pretended interest in a length of worsted and watched the street outside. Barely a minute passed before one of Sophie’s burly bodyguards appeared. Sophie herself was right behind him, fiercely scanning the pavement.
Laura stepped farther back. No one could drag her from here without causing a riot, she thought. But it was still a vast relief when Sophie moved out of sight. And it was many more minutes before Laura summoned the courage to leave her impromptu refuge.
* * *
Gavin examined the note he had received with a good deal of curiosity. Laura wished to discuss a “matter of some importance,” and she asked him to call at the Pryors’ residence at two.
What could this be about? he wondered as he read the words again. She had never done such a thing before. Had the general put her up to something?
Somehow, he doubted it. Pryor didn’t seem to have any more control over her than…anyone else. He smiled a little at the thought of how that must gall him.
No, Gavin decided, turning the sheet of paper over in his hands, if she said it was important, then it was. Or Laura genuinely thought it was, anyway. Whether he would agree or not would be interesting to find out.
* * *
Waiting for Gavin’s arrival, Laura couldn’t sit still. She was agitated by the experiences of the morning, and even more by what she had decided to do about them. She knew someone had to be told. She couldn’t deal with the suspicions she’d inadvertently roused. And she couldn’t tell the Pryors. They would be horrified and almost certainly send her straight home.
She had considered calling on George Tompkins and laying her dilemma at his feet. But it didn’t seem significant enough somehow. She was rather in awe of him, anyway, and not eager to take advantage of the acquaintance.
No, it had to be Gavin. He was the cause of it, after all. She would never have visited Sophie if it weren’t for him. She wouldn’t have become involved in the undercurrents of the congress if she hadn’t witnessed the attack in the garden. It was practically his fault. And from everything she had heard, it seemed likely that he would know what to do.
She couldn’t call on him, of course, after the way he had behaved since her arrival. She would summon him to the Pryors’, and she would keep her distance. If he came.
She checked the mantel clock again, then walked over to see if it was ticking. She couldn’t believe it was still only five to two.
* * *
Gavin rang the bell and was admitted by a footman. Divested of his hat and coat, he convinced the fellow not to announce him and strolled up the stairs to the drawing room alone. He found Laura pacing back and forth before the fire, looking very impatient.
She also looked quite lovely, he thought, hesitating in the doorway. Emotion tinged her cheeks deep rose and brought a flash to her green eyes. The fire drew reddish highlights from her black hair, and the sleek lines of her gown showed off her slender frame. She fairly crackled with energy, and she moved with a lithe grace that roused an undeniable response in him. Suddenly he cared less about whatever she
might have to say and far more about the fact that they were alone together. He shut the door behind him, saying, “Good afternoon.”
Laura whirled, her skirts belling out around her. “You’re late!”
He raised an eyebrow. It was ten minutes after two, not what any hostess would call late.
“Oh, never mind.” She shifted from one foot to the other. “Sit down.”
Gavin chose the sofa before the hearth. When Laura took the armchair farthest away from him, he had to smile slightly.
She folded her hands tightly on her lap. “I have to…” She pressed her lips together.
They were delectable lips, Gavin thought, enjoying himself far too much to press her—not thin, but never pouting, a look he despised. And when you kissed them, they…
“Did you know that Signor Oliveri has a network of spies?” blurted Laura.
“What?”
“Apparently, they are street urchins. I suppose no one notices if they are followed by such children. They are everywhere, unfortunately.”
“What have you been up to?” demanded Gavin.
“I haven’t been ‘up to’ anything. I was curious about something Signor Oliveri said, so I went to see him, and—”
“You visited Oliveri? Alone?” Remembering the way she had sat beside the man and laughed with him, Gavin’s temper flared.
“I took a maid with me,” replied Laura haughtily. “But what I am trying to tell you is that he was very inquisitive about—”
“I’ll wager he was!”
“Will you stop interrupting me! I am beginning to be very sorry I asked you to call. But there is no one else I can tell.”
“Tell what? Did Oliveri insult you?”
“No! He is some sort of spy. He is very insistent about gathering information, and I don’t think he has painted in months.”
“What do you mean, insistent?”
“What is the matter with you? I thought you would be interested in this.”
Gavin struggled to regain control of himself. He didn’t know precisely what was the matter.
“Who do you think he could be working for?” Laura asked.
“Oh, you haven’t discovered that as well?” he replied, trying to match his customary tone.
“No.” She shook her head in disappointment. “But he hasn’t much money. If he were connected with someone important, wouldn’t he have funds?”
She had a quick mind, Gavin acknowledged. Possibly too quick. “Not necessarily.”
“Oh. Well, perhaps if he were watched.”
He had a horrifying vision of Laura crouched in a shabby doorway outside Oliveri’s apartments cataloging his comings and goings. “You may leave this information in my hands,” he said forcefully. “I will see that it is acted upon.”
“Oh,” said Laura again.
“This is all you wished to tell me?” It wasn’t actually so bad, Gavin thought. If he could only discourage her from any further harebrained expeditions, she would be all right.
“Well…”
“There’s more?”
She looked extremely reluctant. Gavin found that his fingers were digging into the brocade of the sofa arm.
“This is a bit difficult,” Laura allowed.
His imagination ran wild. She had told Oliveri about the attack in the garden. She had approached some other—far more dangerous—personage in Vienna. She had disguised herself as a linkboy and laid dynamite around the Russian embassy.
“The thing is—you must know why General Pryor invited me here.”
She threw him a glance, and Gavin nodded sharply.
“Yes. Well. I knew it was a…a silly plan. But I had promised, you see, so I thought I should try my best. I thought if I knew something—”
“What have you done!”
“There is no need to shout at me.”
“Isn’t there?”
“No! I was only trying to—”
“To what?” cried Gavin.
“To understand the circumstances.”
“What circumstances?” he asked through clenched teeth.
“Those the general was…concerned about. So I…” She took a deep breath. “I went to visit Countess Krelov, and I—”
The sound that escaped him was as unfamiliar to Gavin as to Laura. It was somewhere between a gasp and a snarl, a small dispassionate part of his brain observed.
“I thought I would be able to help the general better if I knew what…what interested you,” she blurted, her cheeks flooding with crimson.
“Indeed?” He had to regain his composure, Gavin thought, if he was to have any hope of retrieving this situation.
Laura looked at him from under her lashes as if she expected some further comment. “I talked with her,” she continued finally. “Actually, we had an enjoyable chat.”
Gavin tried to picture it, and was afraid he could.
“But then when she saw me with you and the Pryors, she appeared…agitated.”
“You hadn’t told her the real reason for your visit,” Gavin said neutrally. It wasn’t a question.
“No. And when I did, today, she didn’t believe me.”
“Today?” he echoed. Perhaps he wasn’t really having this conversation, he thought. Perhaps he was in the grip of an insane nightmare, and in a little while he would wake up.
“Yes. You see, when she saw me coming out of Oliveri’s building—”
Gavin groaned. Leaning on his elbow, he covered his eyes with one hand. If he was going to wake up, he thought, let it be now.
“She’s extremely angry with me,” concluded Laura. “And I thought I had better tell someone.”
Silence fell in the room. “Did it never occur to you that Sophie Krelov is a very dangerous woman?” he asked finally.
“It did today,” she admitted. She gave him a searching look again, as if she were trying to figure something out.
“She has friends who…” He didn’t even want to think about it.
“I thought you would know what to do.”
“I?”
“You have a great deal of experience—”
“I don’t have experience in creating incredible muddles,” he snapped.
Laura opened her mouth, then shut it. She took in a deep breath, then let it out. She folded her hands in her lap, looked down at them, and took another breath.
“What are you doing?” he couldn’t help but ask.
“Controlling my temper,” she replied in a tone that suggested she hadn’t yet succeeded. “I am very good at it.”
So was he, Gavin thought—usually.
“Recriminations aren’t helpful,” she added, sounding as if she would very much like to make some.
“No,” he agreed, fascinated by her behavior.
“If you do not intend to help me…”
“You will do what? Precisely?”
“I will find help elsewhere.”
“The Pryors will simply send you home.” When she started to reply, he held up a hand. “And much as I might have wished that before, it is not advisable now. You have drawn the attention of some unpleasant people. That attention would follow you back to England.” For the first time, she looked a bit frightened. Good, Gavin thought savagely.
“There are others I could ask for help,” she said.
“Who?”
Her eyes shifted away from his.
“The judgment you have exhibited so far does not give me much confidence in these ‘others.’”
Laura very obviously suppressed a hot response.
This might have been amusing, Gavin thought—trying to break her self-control—if the matter hadn’t been so serious. “You must stay out of the way until I discover what’s going on. If you don’t leave the house—”
“The
Pryors will wonder what’s wrong,” she objected.
“Tell them you’re ill. Tell them anything you like. It won’t be for long.”
“I could help you investigate.”
“Out of the question.”
“But I have already found out several things.” Her expression shifted, as if she was remembering. “There was something else too. Sophie mentioned a name. She said that ‘Michael’ had told her I was at Oliveri’s, but she hadn’t believed him.”
“Michael?”
Laura nodded.
He pondered this. “Why didn’t you tell me at once?”
“You kept arguing.”
“I never argue. It is a waste of energy.”
“Really? What do you call it then?”
“What?”
“What we are doing right now.”
He waved this aside as irrelevant. “Michael,” he repeated.
“Do you think Oliveri is part of it?”
Gavin shook his head. “He is insignificant, collecting odd bits of information to sell.”
“You knew about him already?” said Laura, sounding very disappointed.
“He is rather obvious.”
“Oh.” She bit her lip, then brightened. “But the name—Michael—is useful.”
“Possibly,” he conceded.
“So you see.”
“If you come to me for help, you must do as I say,” Gavin replied.
“But if I were working with you…”
“You are not. And you would be very much in the way. You will confine yourself to the house until I tell you it is safe.”
“And if I won’t?”
He glared at her.
“You can’t tie me up and lock me in a cupboard.”
It was an appealing thought, but unfortunately she was right. “Are you attempting to negotiate with me?”
“You are a diplomat,” Laura pointed out pertly. “You must be accustomed to compromise.”
“You are not a fool,” he said confidently. “You won’t put yourself in danger merely to annoy me.”
This stopped her, but only for a moment. “I can tell the general about the attack on you at the ball,” she responded.
