Sins of a Ruthless Rogue

decisions on her own.

Her father had wanted her to appear cultured, not to actually have any knowledge cluttering up her mind. The princess’s book was

the first she’d read from cover to cover that wasn’t mainly composed of pictures. After that, she devoured books, reading everything

she’d been able to find.

And for the first time, she hadn’t been Swift’s daughter or even Clayton’s sweetheart. She had been her own woman.

A crease appeared in Princess Katya’s forehead. “Yes. I wrote it.”

Olivia knew she was babbling but she couldn’t help it. Katherine Rosemore. She’d read and reread the book until the pages were

worn and falling from the binding. “You walked across Siberia. Alone. Without an escort. You never let anyone stop you.”

“Yes. To the continued ire of proper society everywhere.”

It had inspired Olivia to form the Society for the Humane Treatment of Child Criminals. Rather than sitting about wishing she’d done

things differently, she could make things different. The book had given her the courage to keep going in the rough moments. If

Katherine Rosemore could eat camels and bargain her way out of a slave market, Olivia could continue to knock on the doors of the

politicians who laughed in her face.

“But how did you become a princess? Your father was baronet, was he not?”

Kate patted her trousers. “An unlikely princess, I know. You must call me Kate, by the way.” Her eyes grew wistful. “I met Prince

Sergey Petrov at one of my talks. He had questions about one of the tribes I stayed with in the Ural Mountains.”

“If he’s a prince, then is he related to the czar?” Perhaps Kate could take the warning about Arshun’s plan and the killer already in

place.

“No. The Russians allow royal families from the lands they conquer to keep their titles. Various princes and princesses are as

common as droskies. Sergey was Latvian.”

“Is that why he was working for the English?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know much of anything except he worked with that bastard you came with.”

“He’s actually quite brilliant at what he does, if that’s any consolation.” Getting her out of Arshun’s house of armed men had been an

amazing feat. As was the fact that he’d found her in the first place. But why was she defending him again?

“Not really. What are you doing with him?”

“He rescued me.”

“What did the baron— But is he truly a baron or is that a ruse? What is his actual name?”

“Clayton.” He spoke from the door that connected the two rooms before Olivia could decide whether she should reveal his real

name. How long had he been there? From the way his gaze lingered on her, long enough to hear her comment about his brilliance.

He’d bathed, shaved, and dressed in a white shirt—open at the collar—and dun breeches. His black leather gloves were back in

place even though they were indoors.

Kate’s good humor vanished. “I’ll ensure you have the key to lock that door before tonight. So, Clayton, if I’m being forced to aid you,

can I at least know who we’re fighting?”

“Prazhdinyeh.”

“Ah, I’d wondered why you’d really come.”

Clayton tried to keep his gaze on Kate’s face. Whose idea had it been to dress Olivia like she’d stepped from some eastern

harem?

“Vasin is dead.” Kate paused. “Truly dead. I saw his corpse.”

“Prazhdinyeh has re-formed.”

“Who—”

“Count Arshun appears to be leading it.”

Olivia flinched at the name, her hand going to her throat.

She was working with the count, Clayton reminded himself. The flinch was most likely an act. He turned until he could no longer see

her at all.

Kate scoffed. “Arshun is a sick little weasel.”

“Agreed.”

“What has this to do with me?”

“You nursed Vasin in his final illness, did you not?”

“Because he was Sergey’s uncle.”

“He put a plan into motion before his illness. We need to know if he spoke to you of it.”

A frown formed on Kate’s face. “He was mad by the time I cared for him. Do you think he would have let the wife of his greatest

traitor near him otherwise? He never forgave Sergey for working with the British, not even after Sergey’s death.”

“I’ll need to know everything he said in those last days. Every last ramble. Every rant. You were also given his belongings. I’ll need

anything he left behind.”

“I have a few boxes of books in the attic, but everything else is gone.”

“Then I’ll need those books.”

“Why?”

Clayton wasn’t about to explain his thoughts on the code and how it might be broken, but he supposed some explanation was in

order. “We need to find something before Prazhdinyeh can.”

Kate pulled at a loose stitch on the arm of the settee. “Is it something that needs to be found?”

“Obviously.”

The two women shared a commiserating look. For a moment, he remembered when he’d stayed up late into the morning trying to

beat Kate and Sergey at a game of chess. The two of them against him. The taunts. The tension. The laughter. For a few hours, he’d

felt like a man, not a spy.

But those moments were long past. And he wasn’t going to put this mission at risk because of female annoyance.

“I’ll also need your husband’s effects.”

“What?” Kate’s curls bounced as she shook her head. “No.”

“That isn’t a request.”

“Then ask him yourself.”

Olivia spoke before he could. “They plan to kill the czar and his family.”

That had been Madeline’s role in their interrogations—to be the compassionate one who gained their target’s trust. He didn’t like

that Olivia slipped into it naturally.

“Why do you care?” Kate asked.

He shouldn’t have made the mistake of looking at Olivia when she answered. The sincerity in her expression was too damned

convincing. And the wet strands of hair drying in soft curls against her neck didn’t precisely help his objectivity. “I have to try to stop

it. I don’t have a choice.”

“If he is forcing you—”

But Olivia shook her head. “I cannot let innocent people die.”

Did Olivia have to finger the neckline of that blasted robe? She’d pulled it tight to her neck, but each twitch revealed the delicate line

of her collarbone. He wanted to run his tongue along it and trace it to the hollow at the center of her throat.

“But what does that have to do with Sergey’s belongings?” Kate asked.

Clayton paced to the window. “That is not your concern.”

“Not my concern? You want to take the only things I have left from my husband and you dare say—” Her green eyes flashed and she

stood. “Fine. You already took everything from me that matters.” She tugged at the heavy ruby ring on her thumb and threw it at his