Chapter 26 #2
“Be easy,” the knight murmured to the both of them as Lark and Perry grew distraught. “We will solve this muddle somehow. How did Nicholas think he was going to get around the Tsar’s permission? How long did you two think you were going to keep this secret?”
“We were waiting until the right moment to make the announcement and begin our married life. I was told I had to keep the news to myself. I knew that if it was discovered we had married before he got his brother’s permission, the Tsar would annul it.
But Nicholas and my mother both said that it would be all right.
She was certain she could help Nicholas find some way to convince Alexander.
We would not have to keep the secret long.
” Lark stared at her brother, willing him to understand.
“And you believed your mama?” Ravenscroft said, his voice dryly incredulous.
“I did,” Lark fired back. “Nicholas is a prince, but he is not the heir. Why should the Tsar care if he marries me?”
“What do you suppose the odds are that Marian would even bother attempting to convince the Tsar?” Ravenscroft drawled. His thoughts were clearly already moving ahead with Selina’s. But not everyone else was caught up yet.
“I do not understand why Marian chose this course,” Thorne said predictably, brows furrowed.
“Marrying Lark to William seemed like a reasonable path to power. And a simpler one. Nicholas is a prince, but he is third in line. Even if Marian killed Tsar Alexander to clear the way towards succession, Constantine is safe in Russia, and he would also annul the wedding.”
“The second brother might not be a consideration,” Selina said idly. “Xavier—years ago, and in his capacity as the Order’s spymaster, mind you—heard rumours that Constantine might be too unstable to sit on the throne. There was talk of him being passed over.”
Ravenscroft snorted softly. “That may explain the gossip I overheard. Constantine is a loyal dog to Alexander, but the whispers say he had to be left behind because he was apt to bite the guests. So, Nicholas might actually be the heir after all. And if Constantine still ascends despite that… well, one dead Tsar might easily become two.”
Lark’s mouth became an O of horror. It was painfully clear Marian Fitzroy had kept her daughter mostly in the dark about her plans. “I know what she did to Charity and Edmunds… but… could it possibly be true she would kill Alexander? My husband’s own brother? And possibly Constantine too?”
Perry wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him, whispering too softly for Selina to hear.
“But… why would she do such a thing?” Lark said plaintively.
“Because if her plan worked, it would put you and your husband on the throne,” Thorne told her, not unkindly. “You would have a hand on the largest empire and most powerful military in the world. And your mother, I’m sorry to say, lass, would have her hand on you.”
He swept his forelock back from his face again, joining Selina and Ravenscroft with a slightly disbelieving laugh on his lips. “Aye, Russia would be a far greater prize to your mother than the Netherlands. I will give her that. The woman’s audacity could shame the devil.”
But Perry wasn’t laughing with them. He was fuming. Good, Selina thought. She needed him back in the land of the living. And if this protective anger at his sister’s situation helped keep him present in the moment, she would take it.
“So much of what we assumed is wrong,” Selina murmured, her eyes unseeing as she swept the whole riddle to the floor in her mind and reassembled the pieces anew.
“There remain questions about what would be required to render their marriage legitimate. The Tsar’s permission, and her conversion, are not the only pieces.
But that is not the most pressing issue.
“What is dire for now is the piece that Hodges was able to discover—that someone was trying to strike a noble target at one of the events. We warned the Queen because I assumed that person was aimed at the Crown.”
Thorne’s face lit in understanding. “You think that is when Marian plans to move against Alexander. In front of the sovereigns, here on English soil. That is why she was stalling for time. And why she—” his face turned to Peregrine.
“It is why she poisoned my wife with a lingering poison instead of something sure,” Perry said, his voice growing hollow. “So that I would be too distraught to help. I did exactly as she expected me to.”
Sir Nathaniel rested his hand on Peregrine’s shoulder, gripping it firmly.
“No one here blames you. Your mother created an iron paradox to make you bleed at every possible turn. It should tell you something that she was so concerned you would break free. And you did. We have not lost too much time.”
Anguish filled Peregrine’s face as he looked through the open doorway to Charity.
“We are not giving up on Charity, Canary,” Ravenscroft told him. “She is not in any pressing danger just yet. But we need to make haste. Comfort yourself by imagining how satisfying it will be to force your mother to concede. And perhaps then we will take Charity’s cure from her.”
Wise to keep appealing to his rage, Magpie, Selina thought, as she continued laying out in her head what they knew. She touched on that other curious piece.
“Red Hand’s warning about the man he said hired Moxley,” Selina murmured. “He was pretending to be Austrian. Because the Austrians are a lucrative target and a friendly foe… or because the man who hired Moxley was trying to hide the fact that he was Russian?”
“Darling, why not both? How many times have we observed already that Marian Fitzroy will never do something for one reason alone?” Ravenscroft said drolly.
“If she builds the event correctly, and God knows the woman is a fiend at doing such, accusations that an Austrian hired an assassin could destroy Russia’s relations with Austria.
Give them an excuse to go to war, at the worst. And for such a thing to happen on British soil? ”
He held a hand to his chest, rendered speechless at the idea. “Besides, every assassination needs a scapegoat.”
Selina suddenly felt filthy. As though even discussing this terrible act was getting dirt smudged all over her. “We need to find a way to warn the Russians. We must alert Lord Sidmouth,” she said, her fingers creeping to her skirts.
“And have him do what? March into the Tsar’s quarters and announce he is to die?” Lord Ravenscroft asked. “They might not take kindly to such news.”
“Worse than the Tsar dying here?” Selina spat back. She pressed her lips together to stop frustration from making her say something else. Ravenscroft was correct, and she was smarter than this.
“Have him reach out to the Grand Duchess,” came an unexpected voice.
All of their heads turned as if on a swivel, to Lark. Her head was bowed, and she was staring at her hands in her lap as if contemplating the absolute ruin her life was shortly about to become.