Sins of a Ruthless Rogue

hand, the sound more dry and brittle than it should have been.

“I must be losing my touch. As are you, if you don’t know what Prazhdinyeh is planning for the fete.”

“I know other things. For instance, I know Miss Swift is obviously not La Petit. The question is, does that make her more valuable to

you or less?”

Clayton set down his fork. The clink of the silver against the plate rang just a touch too loud.

Golov smiled, his lips never parting. “Ah.”

Clayton’s mouth tasted bitter and metallic. “She told me about your offer of employment.”

That seemed to please Golov more. “Did it make you trust her? She’s clever.”

“I already trust her.”

“No, you don’t. You and I don’t trust anyone.” Golov settled into a chair. “She’s clever, that one. I’d be happy to take her from you.”

Never. Not as long as there was a breath left in his body. Hell, even after. He’d claw his way out of a grave to keep Olivia from

Golov.

Olivia strolled through the door in a frothy pink dress, her back straight. Her step was light. “Golov. I’m so pleased you were able to

come this morning.”

“I hear you’ve rejected my offer of employment.”

Olivia’s gaze darted between them, but she smiled. “For now. But I will tell you we’ve been unable to get anywhere with this code. I

am thrilled you are here to help us.”

Golov blinked twice. He wasn’t a man to receive many smiles.

She allowed him to raise her hand to his lips, the man’s gallantry oily and disturbing.

“I suspected as much, but I’m glad to have it confirmed. Why don’t you retrieve the page, Baron? I’m sure Miss Swift and I can

entertain ourselves for a few moments in your absence.”

He wasn’t about to leave Olivia alone with that monster. “I have it on me, of course.”

Olivia spooned jam onto an oatcake and then helped herself to a large portion of eggs. Apparently, Golov didn’t affect her appetite

at all.

Over the next hour, Clayton realized he’d severely underestimated Olivia again. He didn’t know much about her work with the society

she’d mentioned, but watching her now, he was surprised they weren’t ruling London.

As they worked, she maintained the same constant worry about the czar, but managed to bring the whole process to a near

standstill. She forced them to explain every type of pattern they tried, earnest in her desire to understand the mechanics, yet easily

befuddled at the same time.

If he wasn’t certain she already knew half the techniques they’d tried, he might have been fooled himself. She was the perfect

imitation of an amateur eager to help.

“Have you caught Arshun yet?” she asked.

Golov stroked his chin, which pulled down the skin by his eyes and gave him the appearance of an old, sick hound. “Not yet.”

“What about the other revolutionaries from his estate?”

Clayton didn’t look up from the page. He kept the exact same expression on his face. Hoping, in fact almost praying, that her

question would slip by unnoticed.

“What do you know of other revolutionaries? Did you see any others at the count’s estate?” Golov leaned closer. His breath smelled

of fish and vodka. “I thought you were incarcerated.”

Too late.

He’d picked up on the slip Olivia had no idea she had made.

Until that moment.

Clayton had to give her credit for her instant awareness of the increased tension in the room. “I was. I couldn’t see anything well,”

Olivia said.

“But you did see something.”

“Not really. They had me locked in the attics. I could see very little.”

“I will need you to tell me everything so I can protect the czar.”

Clayton doubted the czar fit into the man’s calculations at all. He wanted to protect his brother.

“Certainly. I’ll tell you what I can.” Olivia recounted her time there. She was vague on everyone but Arshun and a man named Nicolai

that the count had murdered in front of her. The tremble in Olivia’s voice as she described his death was genuine, as was the slight

gagging she couldn’t hide as she described the blood.

He would slit Arshun’s throat when he found him.

And why hadn’t he asked for more details of her capture before Maxim-bloody-Golov had?

Because he didn’t want to know. Every wound, every terror, every discomfort would be his fault.

His stomach clenched.

Golov reached out a hand and placed it over Olivia’s, stroking it gently. “We’re doing our best to apprehend him.” Golov’s nostrils

flared and his lips disappeared. “And you can be certain he’ll feel the full wrath of the Russian empire for what he did to you.” He

actually sounded sincere.

But Clayton also didn’t for a moment believe that Golov trusted Olivia’s words. Not if he knew his brother had been there.

His next words confirmed it. “You play me well. But you would do well to trust me with everything you know, koteek.”

Golov had just called Olivia a kitten. Clayton didn’t try to keep the disgust off his face. He stood and moved closer to Olivia. “She’s

told you everything.”

Golov shrugged. “I find hidden depths fascinating. You, I think, hate her for them.”

Clayton didn’t like that she was keeping things hidden from him, but he didn’t hate her. He was farther from that than he’d ever

admit.

Olivia watched him for his response, but when he gave none, she shifted away.

He’d hurt her. The knowledge was a kick to the gut.

But it would keep her safe. And somehow, that had become his only concern in this conversation.

“Heavens, are you all still huddled in here?” Kate strode into the room. Golov was forced to rise.

Kate continued brightly. “Lovely. I have company coming for tea. General Smirken and his young bride.”

General Smirken was one of the few men in the government who held power similar to Golov’s. And he and Golov detested each

other.

Clayton hoped for Kate’s sake she truly had arranged for him to come, because Golov would surely verify her claim.

Kate’s eyes widened. “Miss Swift! You look terribly peaked. Whatever are these men tormenting you with? You must rest. You look

quite ill.”

Clayton tucked the paper away. “We can continue tomorrow.”

Golov frowned. “Tomorrow is unacceptable.”

“Surely, you can figure out the meaning without me?”

He’d backed Golov into a difficult spot. The minister of police wouldn’t admit to incompetence in front of both Olivia and Kate. He’d

find some way to punish Clayton later, but for now, it was worth it to be free of him.

“I apologize for distressing you, Miss Swift.” Golov bowed. He lifted his rheumy gaze to Clayton, one of his hands stroking the other.

“But do not fear, you and I shall soon have time to discuss things. Privately.”

Kate shuddered as soon as he left the room. “Sorry if he was useful, but my servants were refusing to come into the room.”