CHAPTER FIVE

BOTH dukes stopped and murmured something to Lady Raminoff, standing over her in such a way that they didn’t see her expression. “Go on,” she said through gasps, “I’ve just overexerted myself. I am fine.”

“Arthur,” the princess called out in French, “look at this.”

The Duke of Sussex bowed to the older woman and then sprinted to Princess Kira’s side. “What is it, my love?”

“The green of the grass in sunshine and in shadow. Look at the shades. Look at the texture. Beautiful.” She continued walking along the path, her view of Lady Raminoff cut off by some large bushes.

I glanced back at the older woman and saw her frown at me as she made a waving gesture, telling me to catch up to the princess. Since she wouldn’t be chaperoning the princess on this walk, I suspected she wanted me to do her job.

When I caught up to Princess Kira, I asked in French, “You’re not happy with Lady Raminoff, are you?”

“What is the English word for busybody?” she asked.

I told her.

“And the word for interfering . . . and tattletale . . . and grim,” she continued as I translated each word in turn.

“I take your point, but isn’t she acting on your parents’ instructions?” I asked.

“She’s acting on the orders of the tsar’s mother. Lady Raminoff sees anarchists under every bed and behind every tree. That is prudent in Russia, but not in England.” She gave the duke her arm and continued on her stroll deeper among the trees.

I followed behind, translating articles of clothing, the sky, clouds, shade, and sunshine. The Duke of Blackford caught up to us and walked alongside me in silence.

“Isn’t she the most clever lady?” Sussex finally asked.

“I’m sure,” Blackford replied without a trace of irony in his voice. As the other two were ahead of us, they didn’t see Blackford scowl thoughtfully.

The trail swung around and led us to a more public part of the park with a five-arched bridge over the Serpentine. On the far bank stood a small restaurant. After asking the English words for bridge and lake, the princess said, “I’d like an ice.”

“Of course,” Sussex said and started toward the refreshment area with the princess.

“No. You go on and take your friend with you. I wish to continue my lesson with Miss Peabody here,” the princess told him.

“Come on, then, Blackford. You can help carry the ices,” Sussex said and strode off down the path.

Blackford gave us a deep bow and ambled off on his longer legs to overtake Sussex.

I eyed the princess. “Well?”

“I am meeting the cook from our household in Russia. Don’t tell anyone. Especially not Lady Raminoff.”

“Won’t the men notice when they come back?”

“That is where you need to help me.”

That sounded backward to me. “Don’t you mean you need me to help you?”

She made a breathy sound like a “pahf,” then said, “If you say so.” She turned on her heel and marched behind the closest tree. I followed her and found the same woman we’d seen the previous day in the art gallery.

Except that yesterday, she’d been a maid.

They hugged quickly and spoke in low-voiced Russian. The other woman’s dress was dark green, making her hard to see among the trees and bushes.

I glanced around, pretending to be on guard when in truth I was looking for Jacob, Sir Broderick’s assistant. I hoped he would follow the Russian to wherever she lived and find out her name. Twice Princess Kira had gotten rid of all her minders except me to speak to this young woman.

Jacob walked toward us carrying a newspaper-wrapped packet of fish and chips and sat down on a bench where he could see me, but not the princess or the girl. We exchanged nods as he began to eat in neat, efficient bites.

I waited until the dukes were fairly close before I whispered in French, “They’re coming.” Jacob had already seen Blackford and had appeared to leisurely wrap up the rest of his dinner before he melted into the trees beyond the princess and the other woman. More murmured words and a handclasp between the two women. Then the unknown blonde hurried away, past where Jacob, half-hidden by a bush, tied his shoe.

Princess Kira stepped next to me and said, “What is that smell?” as she delicately sniffed.

“Fried fish. Didn’t you see the old man on the bench eating his lunch?” Jacob had by now disappeared as he followed his quarry.

She shook her head. “Fish,” she said in French as the men arrived.

I answered and she said, “Ices.”

We continued with the lesson as we retraced our steps, Sussex next to the princess and Blackford and I following behind. Just before we were in sight of the bench where we’d left Lady Raminoff, the princess managed to switch partners without seeming to do so. I walked next to her again as we came into view around the thick bushes, now working on phrases like “How are you?” and “Thank you for a lovely time.”

Lady Raminoff, staring in our direction, hopped up from the bench when she saw us. With frantic gestures, she spoke in rapid Russian.

What now? I wished once again that I understood Russian.

Princess Kira replied in French, “And we shall return there soon.” She glanced at me. “The duchess and her household have already returned to Hereford House.”

“Then I suppose I am walking back,” I said in wistful French, relieved that nothing worse had happened.

“Nonsense. We won’t leave a young woman to see to her own safety. There is room in the coach,” Blackford said in English.

Lady Raminoff continued to lecture the princess in Russian as we returned to the dirt and gravel lane for the carriage. There was nothing wrong with her breathing now.

I interrupted her in French with, “Are you feeling better, milady?”

She brushed an invisible speck off her dress. “Yes. Thank you. London air doesn’t seem to agree with me.”

“You had the same problem in St. Petersburg, but you hid it from my father,” Princess Kira countered.

“Nonsense,” Lady Raminoff said, but she bit her lower lip.

“You missed a lovely bit of woodlands,” I said. The sounds of carriage wheels crunching stones and horses whinnying cut off any replies.

I was squeezed into the carriage on the return ride between Lady Raminoff and the hard wooden and metal side by the door. From my position, I could see that Sussex never took his eyes off his intended, while Princess Kira alternated between smiling at him and looking out the window on the far side. I’d have given anything to see her expression as she gazed out.

I stared at Blackford, hoping he’d get my mental message. I wanted him to tell me tonight if Jacob had been successful in following the girl.

Finally, after we traveled through knots of traffic amid surly drivers and tired horses, we arrived back at Hereford House. The footman handed me down last, as befitted my lowly position in this group. As I reached the ground, I heard Sussex say in French, “I could visit for a while if you’d like. If it would help.”

Princess Kira gave him a wan smile and said, “No. Thank you, but I’m feeling a bit tired. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Her last words sounded eager, not fatigued.

Either she really liked his company, or she had planned something with the girl for tomorrow.

“Yes. Yes, my love,” Sussex replied.

I began to follow them into the house. Blackford was standing to the side of the doorway and as I passed, he muttered, “Tonight.”

Good. He had read my mind.

The butler let me pass, and as the two dukes turned away, he shut the door. I could hear voices in the front parlor from where I stood in the hall. Three female, one male. The Duke of Hereford must have returned from his estate to see how his household was faring with the Russian “invasion.”

I followed the sound to the parlor and found that the door, surprisingly, stood open. I peeked in and saw not the duke but a bearded Russian soldier in full uniform holding his cap in his hand. At his feet was a large rolled bundle wrapped in canvas.

His hair and beard seemed greasy and his uniform looked worn, as if the wool fabric had previously been used for something else. His boots were scuffed, more the sort workmen wore than the polished boots favored by British officers. I took a step back, uneasy in his presence.

Russia must be a very poor country to send its soldiers abroad looking like this.

The soldier, the princess, and Lady Raminoff were all speaking in Russian. The women were talking over each other and waving their hands. The soldier wasn’t getting a chance to say much, or perhaps it was his military training that kept him from answering sharply.

“Come in, Miss Peabody,” the duchess said from where she stood apart from the others. Her drawn face made her look ready to collapse.

I took a few steps in. “What is going on?”

“Apparently, we now have a Russian guard added to our household.” She eyed the tall, heavy-boned man distastefully. “I suppose he can stay in the coach house with the grooms.”

The man turned a fierce face on the duchess. “No,” he said in heavily accented English, “I have orders to sleep under the same roof. I can sleep in the kitchen with the servants there. Is all right?”

“You speak English,” I said, barely keeping my jaw from dropping.

“Is required of all guards for princess.”

Belatedly, I remembered Lidijik spoke English, too.

“Sleep in the kitchen?” the duchess said, frowning. “The servants don’t sleep there. I don’t believe my husband would approve.”

“Ask him. Is important I sleep in same building, where I can hear any attacks and protect the princess.”

The princess interrupted in French. “What is he saying?”

I translated.

“Does he think he’s going on my afternoon outings? During my English lessons? No. He will stay with the carriage.”

“What?” the guard asked, staring with cold, black eyes at the princess. He looked angry, but I guessed it was because his orders were being countermanded by women.

I translated.

“No. On all outings I stay at her side. I am to protect princess, not carriage.”

I told her what he said. I hadn’t bargained on translating an argument. My French wasn’t that strong. I could feel a headache starting behind my eyes. No wonder the duchess appeared close to crumpling.

“Tell him to go back to Russia. I don’t need him here.”

With a groan, I repeated her words.

“The tsar and her family sent me. Only they can recall me.”

My headache grew as I translated, surprised at his good command of English.

“Then we need to send telegrams immediately,” the princess said.

I continued in French, not wanting to translate another argument for the soldier. “Why not send a message to the embassy? Talk to them, see if they can have his orders changed.” We both turned to the duchess.

“Fine. I will send a message to the embassy immediately. Then perhaps we can straighten this out and get back to normal. Or what passes for normal,” I heard her add in English.

She beckoned to me as her supposed secretary and we both left the room.

We entered the morning room and she shut the door with some force. “I don’t like him. I don’t want him in my house.”

“Let’s send that note to the embassy. And I’ll see Blackford tonight. Perhaps he can do something through Whitehall to get him out of here.”

She rubbed her hands up and down her arms as if she were cold. “Quickly, I hope.”

“What’s wrong?”

“The way he looked at me with his cold eyes. As if he’d like to kill me in my bed. I know I’m being fanciful, but he scares me.”

I’d learned intuition was a powerful indicator. And I agreed with her. I wouldn’t want him sleeping in my house, either. “Tell him to sleep in the coach house. That’s where your male servants sleep, isn’t it?”

She nodded.

“I’ll send Blackford over to enforce your decision as soon as I can.”

Pacing the room, she said, “I hate to involve him in such a silly domestic matter.”

The duchess was definitely uncomfortable with the Russian guard in her house. He didn’t seem totally clean, for one thing, and her house was spotless. “It’s not silly if the man frightens you. I’ll send the duke over this evening.”

“Thank you. If I’d known I was putting Daisy at risk, I would never have agreed to host Princess Kira. I’ll ask Blackford how soon we can be rid of her and the rest of these Russians.”

•   •   •

ONCE AGAIN, WE heard a rap on our door after dinner. I jumped up to answer, earning me smiles from both Emma and Phyllida.

Throwing the door open, I found Blackford and Sumner, Blackford’s bodyguard, on our doorstep. “Come in. Did Jacob find out who the mysterious girl is?”

They put their hats and gloves on the table by the door, and the duke set his weighted cane across it. The duke looked pristine as usual in his evening wear, but it was Sumner who caught my eye. He wore a smart suit, obviously new, as were his collar and tie. I’d never seen him look less like the former soldier and current hired muscle he was.

Despite the hideous scars on one side of his face, he’d found the one woman who loved him completely in Emma. The result was Sumner would walk through fire for her. The clothes were no doubt meant to impress her, but he needn’t have bothered. Emma saw past his face and his disguises, and the beauty had tender feelings for the beast.

The delight on her face when he walked into the parlor said it all.

I went to help Phyllida bring in the tea things, certain Emma hadn’t seen Sumner in months. But when I returned carrying the tray, trailing Phyllida with the biscuits, Emma was saying, “If you stop by tomorrow morning, you can finish unpacking the rest of the boxes.”

Setting the tray down with a thump, I said, “Sumner, have you been by the shop lately?”

“As soon as he heard you were on an investigation, he offered his services around the shop. He’s very handy,” Emma said and then blushed.

“Have some tea, dear,” Phyllida said to Emma. “You’re looking overheated.”

I was going to have to ask Frances what was going on in the shop in my absence.

Blackford took the teacup Phyllida offered him, balancing it in one hand as he stared at me. “Jacob followed the girl to the East End, but once there, he lost her. She ducked into a turning off Commercial Street by Whitechapel Road.”

Phyllida shivered. “Jack the Ripper’s part of London. I hope you warned him to be careful.”

We all nodded. Several years after Jack’s last murder, the area was still dangerous.

“Princess Kira told me the girl was a maid in her parents’ house, and the next day said she was a cook. Either way, if she were working as a domestic, she’d be living in her employer’s home. No one in the East End can afford servants. They can barely afford to feed themselves.” I drummed my fingers on the padded chair arm. “And we have another problem.”

I had everyone’s attention as four heads turned to look at me.

“This afternoon, a new Russian guard came to Hereford House to replace the one who was killed. I don’t know what he was arguing about with Lady Raminoff and Princess Kira in Russian, but the duchess is afraid of him, and he insists on sleeping in the house instead of the coach house with the other male servants.”

“How did he get his point across about sleeping in the house?” Emma asked.

“He speaks English. He says it’s required of guards serving here.”

“What does the Duke of Hereford say?” Phyllida asked.

“He’s out in the country at their estate. He couldn’t see staying in the house with three more women, or, as he calls them, the Russian invasion.”

“The guard’s presence is going to make it difficult for the princess to visit with the other girl,” Blackford said.

“She’ll do something to speak to the girl. And I expect this something will put her in danger.” Or more likely, put me or other Hereford servants in peril.

“Then finding out who this unknown woman really is just became more important,” Blackford said. “Sumner, I want you ready to follow her tomorrow.”

“I’ll do it,” Emma said, setting down her teacup. “I spoke to Jacob today. He lost her in Whitechapel. He knows the area as well as I do, but he doesn’t know girls as well.”

“You’re not going alone,” Sumner said.

Emma gave him one quick nod.

“No. I’m going with you.” When Sumner was determined, his looks were frightening.

From her serene expression, I knew Emma was equally resolved. “No. I have a plan for once we reach the East End. You can follow me. But watch your back.”

He gave her his lopsided smile that pulled at his scars. “I always do.”

She gave him a hard stare. “Sumner, don’t be cocky. There are cutthroats in the East End every bit as dangerous as the assassins you met in North Africa.”

“I know. And my job is to get us both out alive.”

Silence filled the room like the fog that would descend on our streets this winter. I glanced over to find Phyllida wringing her hands. My insides felt the same way. Emma and Sumner would both be in danger from sources we couldn’t imagine. And we didn’t yet know the kind of trouble the Russian woman brought with her.

“Georgia,” Blackford said, “we’re going to have to learn from you what the princess plans. I’ll be sure to accompany Sussex tomorrow and you can get me word then.”

“I’ll tell you what she tells me. Remember, it may not be the truth. The princess doesn’t trust me.”

“Make her trust you,” the duke ordered.

I held his gaze. “She trusts no one. But you might make this easier. The duchess of Hereford wants you to stop by tonight and convince the guard to sleep with the male servants in the coach house.”

He gave one guffaw. “If the duke isn’t around, call on a ducal neighbor. Very well. I’ll take a couple of my brawnier footmen with me and see if I can’t persuade the guard to act as if he were a guest in another country.” He shook his head. “Which he certainly is. Has the duchess contacted the Russian embassy?”

“Yes, but I don’t know if she’s received a reply.”

“I’ll find out.” He rose and gave us a bow. Sumner immediately leaped to his feet with his gaze still on Emma.

•   •   •

I ARRIVED AT Hereford House at the usual time the next morning, leaving Emma to make arrangements for a member of the Archivist Society to fill in for her in the bookshop. She also had instructions to call Sir Broderick on the shop phone to tell him he’d have to put Jacob to use as his assistant in my antiquarian book business. Sir Broderick knew the business as well as I did, but Jacob would be needed to run books between my shop and Sir Broderick’s study, where my father’s onetime partner spent his days in his wheeled chair.

I left my hat and gloves next to Miss Whitten’s, noting it must have been a short illness that kept her away the day before. I uncovered the typewriter, pulled out ink and paper from a drawer, and then left the room.

Where would be the best place to find the princess? I couldn’t picture her sleeping late when there hadn’t been a ball on the previous evening. I walked upstairs past the housemaids as if I belonged there and followed the corridor to the painting studio.

When I tapped and then opened the door, I saw Princess Kira sitting in front of an easel, dabbing at an impressionist canvas.

The door smashed back into my face. I fell back into the hall against the far wall, knocked into a painting the duchess had made. I heard Russian and then the door reopened.

“Miss Peabody, are you all right?” Princess Kira asked in French as she hurried toward me. The Russian guard stood glowering at me with his hand on the doorknob.

“It’s a good thing I wasn’t the duchess, or you’d be out on your ear,” I said in English, rubbing my forehead. I hoped I wouldn’t get a bruise.

“I guard princess, not duchess,” the guard replied.

“What is your name?”

“Sergei Brencisovich Ivanov,” he replied, snapping to attention.

“Well, get out of my way, Ivanov,” I replied, shoving him as I entered the doorway. The princess stepped back to let me in; he didn’t budge an inch.

“Do you speak French?” I asked in French without facing him.

He remained silent.

“He doesn’t. I’ve tested him a couple of times,” Princess Kira said.

“Good. Where’s Lady Raminoff?”

“Resting.”

I gave the princess a conspiratorial smile. She nodded and went back to her canvas. I stood next to her, both of our backs to the guard. I heard him move about to a spot next to the door and then settle in one place.

“How will you see your friend again?” I asked, lowering my voice in the hope that the guard couldn’t hear my words even if he could speak French.

“Why would I?”

“If you don’t want my help, fine.” I turned to leave.

“Wait.”

I moved back to my original position looking over her painting. She was going to tell me something. I hoped it was the truth. And I hoped it was also true that the odious Russian soldier couldn’t understand French.