Frederick grinned back at him. “I’m practicing for Parliament. Do you think I have a future?”
“Undoubtedly. As long as they don’t find out you used your untrained brother as a last-minute replacement on a critical assignment for the Queen. ‘For want of a hand, the kingdom was lost,’” Robert paraphrased.
Frederick scowled.
“Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.” He jutted his chin toward the door. “Go. Clean up your trail of water. I’ll be your hands. I’ll pick your locks. I’ll steal the church register. But you owe me.”
Frederick gave a wry smile and silently slipped from the room.
Robert knelt to examine the locks more closely and selected two picks from the set. He started with the drawer on the right, since it was more readily accessible.
He still couldn’t believe he was doing this. If he hadn’t seen Frederick get burned with his own eyes, he’d suspect him of having planned this entire evening.
Chess moves. Perhaps he really was Frederick’s pawn tonight.
The lock gave way. Robert slid open the drawer and reached into its depths, hoping to brush against the form of a diplomatic pouch.
Footsteps in the corridor. He froze.
Was that a woman’s voice? A feminine trill of laughter? He kept listening.
Seconds ticked by. A log settled in the dying fire, sending off a few sparks, but no other noises intruded. Perhaps he’d been mistaken. The voice might have come from downstairs in the foyer.
He reached again into the drawer’s depths, and his hand grazed an object that could be the diplomatic pouch. He held his breath as he extracted it and rose to his feet. When he set it on the desk, he let out a sigh of relief.
As he bent to examine it, he was surprised to discover it was unlocked and no seals had been affixed to the case. He’d expected this step in tonight’s thievery to be more difficult. Could the ambassador be unaware of the importance of the church register?
Robert opened it and withdrew a small leather-bound volume.
The book was exactly as Frederick had described, right down to the tooled-leather cover bearing the cross of the Russian Orthodox Church. It appeared to have been through a great deal of misuse over the years. Strange for an item which normally resided in a church.
As he thumbed through the book, it fell open to a particular page as though someone had frequently turned to it. In the dim light, he recognized the shapes of the Cyrillic letters. It had been too long since he’d studied Russian and full comprehension eluded him, but he found pages of names and dates, along with annotations regarding important events.
He flipped the book shut. Frederick had been gone too long.
He returned the diplomatic pouch to the drawer, relocked it, stowed the lock picks, unbuttoned his tailcoat, and tucked the battered church register down the back of his waistband. The corners of the little book would be discernible through the fabric of his form-fitting tailcoat, wouldn’t they? Robert shrugged. This would do for now.
He slipped out into the silent, empty hallway.
Where in blazes was his brother?
§
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Sheridan Jeane (Ferguson-Edmondson) grew up in Huber Heights, a suburb of Dayton, Ohio, and now lives just outside of Pittsburgh.
Sheridan has always been an avid reader and a dedicated writer. She earned a bachelor's degree in Computer Science with a minor in English.
She's thrilled to have the opportunity to share her stories with her readers. Visit her website at SheridanJeane.com
Lady Catherine's Secret: A Secrets and Seduction book Page 36