for his own plans.”
“What will happen to him?” asked the duke.
“He will be charged with the murder of Von Seilig. In return for his cooperation, I’ve agreed to a sentence of life imprisonment rather than hanging. That way, both his family and the government are spared the terrible public scandal of treason. The true nature of the plot will remain a closely guarded secret.”
“And Lady Duxbury and Lord Allenham?” demanded Charlotte, a martial light flashing off her spectacles. “It seems unfair that they escape any punishment.”
“They do not get off lightly,” replied the marquess. “Allenham has been forced to resign from his position with the Northern Mercantile Exchange Company, and it has been strongly suggested that he and his sister start a new life in India. They should be boarding a ship for Bombay just about now.”
The duke gave a low growl. “To think that my own neighbor, whom I have known for years, would turn out to be such a despicable villain.” He pursed his lips and frowned. “It’s one thing that he fooled me, but damnation, Lynsley, you of all people should have known better.”
The marquess accepted the set-down with his usual show of equanimity. “I do my best, Cluyne. But depravity is everywhere, and unfortunately it is often well-hidden beneath a polished veneer of nobility.”
Just as nobility could lurk beneath a show of dissolute debauchery.
Kate ventured a look at her new husband across the table. The dancing flames of the candelabra illuminated his face, golden light gilding the bronze skin, the chiseled cheekbones, and sensuous curl of his smile. Their gazes met for an instant and she felt a warm rush of joy well up inside her.
Yes, appearances could be deceiving. They had both hidden their true selves behind an outer shell of toughness to survive. But thankfully love had proved a more powerful force than cynicism.
Marco winked, sparks tipping the fringe of his dark lashes. “Si, amico,” he replied to Lynsley. “It is often hard to discern between black and white, eh? Sometimes the two blur together, creating a smudged shade of gray. Rather like me. Though of late, I find the darkness is clearing from the crevasses of my soul and my life is lightening.”
“Gray?” Charlotte arched a silvery brow. “I would never describe you as colorless,” she remarked, much to the amusement of Cluyne and Lynsley. “You have quite a colorful past, from what I have heard. However, I trust that you will try to temper your more outrageous exploits.”
“I will try,” said Marco, flashing her an angelic look. “But Kate would be bored if I become too good. I’m afraid we both have a weakness for adventure. And so…”
The marquess suddenly seemed extremely interested in polishing the single fob hanging from his watchchain.
“And so it should come as no surprise that we have agreed to help Lynsley look into another small diplomatic problem,” he finished.
Cluyne’s face clouded with concern, but Kate interrupted him before he could speak. “Yes, there is a matter of a missing Imperial medallion in St. Petersburg.”
“Tsar Alexander was apparently a little careless during one of his sexual trysts,” explained Marco. “The bauble in question is apparently one of great historical significance for the Russian people. If he doesn’t wear it during the upcoming Orthodox Easter celebration, it will be considered a very ill omen for the Romanov Dynasty.”
“The lady’s husband is using that fact to force the tsar to rescind some of his social reforms,” said Lynsley. “If our government can help him out of this embarrassing predicament, he would be extremely grateful.”
“l don’t see why my granddaughter must be drawn into another dangerous mission,” growled the duke.
“Actually, I asked to be part of it,” said Kate softly. “I know you disapprove, but I would be bored to perdition living the life of a proper London lady. I detest drawing room gossip and have two left feet when it comes to ballroom etiquette.” She paused and crooked a smile. “On the other hand, with my seafaring pirate background, I’m awfully good at navigating tight spaces and climbing to precarious heights—not to speak of purloining carefully guarded valuables.”
“After all, she stole my heart,” quipped Marco.
Charlotte stifled a chuckle. “You are fortunate she didn’t toss it away. A sensible female would have feared singeing her fingers on a red-hot coal from Hell.”
“Kate is not afraid of a little heat.” He waggled his brows suggestively. “Are you, cara?”
She felt her face flame.
After another little laugh, her friend turned serious. “Come, Cluyne. Much