Page 73 of Betrayal from Beyond
She could hear voices. Not in the next room. Perhaps a couple of rooms away. Quickly, then. And quietly.
She set the horse tonic and the horseshoe on the table. The samovar was hot. Grabbing a kitchen towel, she lifted away the teapot, removing the lid and pouring a healthy dose of the opium-rich tonic into the concentrated tea. Carefully, she usedthe towel to lift the top off the larger bronze section and poured more tonic into the heated water. She thought about adding a little extra, but hesitated. She didn’t know how strong this tonic might be. She put the pieces all back together and breathed a sigh of relief.
A door at the back of the kitchen led to a pantry. She left the horse tonic on a shelf inside, took up her horseshoe once more, then went to see what she could hear.
The next room was a dining area, containing only a long, empty table and a great hutch, its many shelves bare, save for a lone, cracked bowl. She moved past them toward the open arch that led to the room beyond. She kept well back, for the voices came from there. She detected Petra’s, giving orders in a sharp, high tone. And another. A man’s voice, trying to soothe her.
“Pack the straw in tight around each one,” Petra said. “This batch is definitely sturdier, but we cannot afford to lose any to cracks.”
“We will not lose any. These are perfection. Your smith has done himself proud, at last.”
The tone was smooth, the words accented. Austrian? Russian, it sounded more like, which made sense, given the samovar. And he did not address Petra like a lackey. He spoke in the urbane voice of a gentleman. A confederate, then?
Kara recalled that a Russian had been among the top conspirators in the League of Dissolution.
“The tests this morning proved these will perform just as we require,” the gentleman continued. “Still, they are packed as gently as if they were hen’s eggs. There is no need to fret.”
“There is every need to fret,” Petra argued. “I thought all we had to do was to tie up loose ends here. I sent your man in to deal with that mewling history teacher—but it turned out he had to confront Kier as well. It’s entirely possible it didn’t go well.Your man didn’t make it to the livery in time to head back here, despite their ridiculous delays.”
“I have every faith in Rybakov.”
“Then where is he?” Petra demanded. “You don’t understand how damnably slippery Kier is. If that teacher is the one who has been lurking about here, then Kier could be hot on our tail.Damnhim! He should never have been able to track me here.”
“Ah, but should you not give him his title and call him Sedwick?” The Russian sounded amused. “The man certainly scrambled hard enough to get it.”
Petra’s filthy response was enough to make Kara blush, but the gentleman merely laughed.
“Calm your nerves, my dear. I was only poking at you. If the duke does come knocking, my prickly little bear, we are more than prepared.” Pausing, the gentleman gave a little hum. “In fact, might it not be best if we await him here? Conquer him now so that we may proceed without worry that he will interfere with us later?”
“No,” Petra said flatly.
“Interesting. He frightens you.”
Kara flinched as something crashed.
“He doesnotfrighten me.” Petra’s tone had lowered, and she gave a deep, scornful laugh. “I would have thought you intelligent enough to understand that there is no man alive who can frighten me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” the gentleman scoffed, but in a light tone. “Have you met every man alive? How could you know such a thing?”
“I know,” Petra assured him.
Were theyflirting? Kara’s mouth dropped open.
“Nevertheless, I become more intrigued with this Duke of Sedwick with each passing day. I admit, I am almost tempted to test myself against him.”
“No,” Petra said again. “The man is mine to dispatch.”
“Then why not—”
“Enough about Niall Kier! You know the timing is critical on this mission. And I tell you again, we will only get one chance at our real target.”
“And I say again, you give these English too much credit.”
“You do not give this particular Englishman enough estimation,” Petra countered. “We must get to London and deal with him before we move further. You asked me about the obstacles in your path and I told you—he is the largest. This one is smart. Wily. Ruthless, too. He has vision, I tell you, and that is a quality that is severely lacking in nearly everyone.”
“Not everyone,” the Russian said. He sounded deliberately sulky, as if fishing for a compliment.
Petra did not give it. “It is rare enough. One attempt. That is all we will get. Right now, he is distracted.”
