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Sir Reginald Lloyd wore sober black broadcloth breeches and coat and a deep wine-colored waistcoat. His ruffled white neckcloth was the finest of linen, slightly crumpled, I noticed, in need of a good pressing. Sir Reginald had been a widower for almost nine years. He was in his early fifties now, a strikingly handsome man, and I imagined there were any number of women who would snatch him up if given half a chance.

"Miss Danver," he said.

"You know my name."

"Almost everyone in St. Petersburg knows your name,"

he told me.

His deep baritone was mellifluous, a lovely voice, but not at all friendly. His eyes were more gray than blue, and they gazed at me with frosty disapproval. I realized that he must consider me a cold-blooded adventuress, a totally amoral courtesan. To a man of Sir Reginald's character, that kind of woman would be total anathema.

"I wanted to speak to your son," I said.

"I'm afraid Bryan is no longer here."

"He-he's left Russia?"

"I didn't say that, Miss Danver. He's no longer staying here at the embassy."

"Per-perhaps you could help me," I said.

Sir Reginald glanced at the clerk who, though immersed in his paperwork, was obviously straining to hear our every word. He asked me to follow him to his office, and' we moved down several long corridors, finally arriving at the small, pleasantly littered room where he did his work for his country. Books and papers were scattered everywhere.

A map of Russia hung behind the large, beautifully varnished mahogany desk. A cup of half-finished tea was on his desk, I noticed, and a scattering of crumbs indicated that he had been too busy to leave his office for lunch.

"Won't you sit down, Miss Danver."

"I don't want to take up too much of your time, Sir Reginald.

I realize you're an extremely busy man."

"I'm not too busy to discuss my son. Anything that concerns Bryan is of major importance to me."

The rich voice was polite, but barely. He moved behind his desk, but he did not sit down either. We faced each other like highly civilized adversaries, and I didn't know.

quite how to approach him.

"Bryan has mentioned me to you?" I asked.

"He spoke of you in glowing terms, Miss Danver.Bryan is very young and, I fear, not always the best judge of character."

"You don't share his high opinion of me, do you, Sir Reginald?"

"My opinion of you isn't of the least importance," he replied,

"but I must warn you that the embassy shall not

.stand behind you should your schemes go amiss. We're engaged in delicate diplomatic relations with a difficult and frequently belligerent government, and your kind can do considerable harm to those relations."

"Despite what you may think, Sir Reginald, I am not Count Orlov's mistress. I came to Russia as his niece's paid companion."

"Indeed?"

He didn't believe me. I hadn't really expected him to. I could understand Sir Reginald's disapproval, his frigid, official manner-it was only natural. Nevertheless, I sensed that beneath it was a warm, compassionate man who, overworked and harried, probably shockingly underpaid as well, was completely dedicated to his job. His eyes looked a bit weary now. He ran a hand through the thick silver-gray waves, uncomfortable. Cool disapproval did not come naturally to him, and I could see that this interview was a considerable strain.

"You said that Bryan is no longer staying at the embassy.

Is he still in St. Petersburg?"

Sir Reginald nodded. "He's taken a rather squalid set of rooms at one of the student hostels. He needed to be alone for a while, he informed me. My son is a very independent young man."

"Could you give me the address?"

"I could, but I don't know that I shall. I've not always been the perfect father, but I've always tried to keep his

. best interests in mind. I'm not sure that seeing you would be in his best interests."

"Surely-" I paused. "Surely you don't think I have designs on him?"

"I didn't mean to imply that, Miss Danver," he said wearily,

"but you are-uh-Orlov's guest, and seeing anyone connected with Orlov is likely to upset him just now."

I was puzzled. "Upset him?" .

"Bryan frequently gives an impression of irresponsible frivolity, but he is actually a very serious young man."

"I'm well aware of that."

"He's also quite sensitive-and deeply caring. After trifling with the affections of any number of foolish young women, he's fallen in love at last, and he's taken her letter very hard."

"Letter?" I said.

"Surely you're aware that Lucie Orlov wrote to him, Miss Danver. She informed him that she no longer wished to see him and requested that he make no further effort to contact her."

"When-when did he receive this letter?"

"Almost two weeks ago, I believe. He had been to visit her at the Marble Palace and returned raving about the girl, how wonderful she was, how beautiful, how bright. A servant delivered her letter the next morning. My son was demolished."

"I'm sure he was," I said. My voice was flat.

"Naturally I would have preferred for him to have fallen in love with an English girl, someone with a similar background, but one can't regulate these matters. The Orlov brothers are-uh-not held in the highest esteem by our government, or by the people of Russia, for that matter, but a seventeen-year-old girl can't be held responsible for the sins of her father and uncles. I was prepared to accept the match."

Someone else wasn't I thought. I felt very, very cold.

"I'll have to confess I felt a twinge of relief when the letter arrived, but it was far outweighed by concern over my boy. His pain is quite genuine, and I would do anything I could to alleviate it. You can see now why I prefer not to give you his address."

"Quite," I said.

"Unless there's something else-" He indicated the papers on his desk, eager to be rid of me.

"I've taken up far too much of your time as it is. Thank you for seeing me."

"I'll show you out."

"You needn't bother, Sir Reginald. I can find my own way."

Sir Reginald insisted. Somehow I managed to maintain a semblance of poise as he led me back to the reception room. I thanked him again, and he nodded politely, wearily, and I stepped outside and' Vanya climbed out and opened the door of the carriage for me and we were soon on our way back toward the Nevsky Prospekt.

"It goes well?" Vanya inquired. "You speak to Lucie's young man?"

"He wasn't there," I said, distracted.

Vanya sensed I didn't care to talk about it, and he asked no more questions. Bryan had never seen Lucie's handwriting before. The letter had undoubtedly been written on a piece of her personal stationery, and he would have no way of knowing she hadn't penned it herself. Gregory had never particularly cared for the youth, but neither had he seemed to object to Lucie seeing him. Why had he done it?

Why had he deliberately destroyed their happiness?

Couldn't he see what it had done to Lucie? Didn't he care?

The carriage stopped on the side street, near the entrance to the alleyway. I changed cloaks again, pulling the ermine hood up over my head. Vanya helped me out of the carriage and led me down the alley, one hand holding my elbow, the other on the hilt of his dagger. His expression was fierce as he searched the shadows, prepared to plunge the dagger into the heart of anyone who dared accost me.

The old woman was gone. So was the bag of coins. We stopped before the back door to Maitlev's, and Vanya banged on it loudly with his fist and scowled savagely as Maitlev opened it and peeked out. The poor man almost fainted when he saw the cossack.

"That will be all, Vanya," I said.

I stepped inside. Maitlev's hands trembled as they turned the lock and shoved the bolt back into place. I felt rather sorry for him, and I thanked him graciously for his cooperation and told him I would be eternally grateful.

Some of his normal color returned, and by the time we reo turned to the front of the shop he was relatively composed.

Glancing at the clock, I was dismayed to see that well over an hour had passed since I entered the shop. Vladimir would be growing more and more suspicious. I plucked a diamond and sapphire bracelet from one of the artificial tree limbs.

"I'll take this," I said.

"And earrings to match?" Maitlev inquired.

"Of course."

"We have several lovely pairs over here in this case. Let me show them to you."

I tried to hide my impatience as Maitlev pulled out a tray of dazzlingly beautiful earrings, the diamonds flashing brilliantly, the sapphires burning with shimmery blue fires. The other customers were intrigued and made no effort to conceal their interest as I hastily selected a stunning pair that perfectly matched the bracelet. Maitlev insisted I try them on. I snapped the bracelet onto my wrist and, stepping over to a mirror, fastened the earrings onto my lobes. I didn't ask what they cost. It wasn't important. I told him I was delighted, told him to oond the bill to Count Orlov and left the shop, still wearing the jewels. I could hear a buzz of excited chatter as I closed the door behind me.

~~--------'~,~

Vladimir was leaning against the wall outside, and he gave me a sullen, suspicious look as he straightened up. I stared at him icily, daring him to say anything. He gave me an insolent nod and walked over to his horse. The footman opened the door for me, and I climbed in, adjusting folds of ermine, smoothing down my blue silk skirt.

I stared out the window, but I saw none of the shops, none ofthe gawking pedestrians. I had not remained in St.

Petersburg because of the money, even though that was the reason I gave. In fairness to myself, I knew that the only reason I wasn't now on board a ship leaving Russia was that pained look in Lucie's eyes. I had stayed because of her, because I couldn't bear to leave while she was so miserable. I was extremely fond of her, and I felt a curious responsibility for her. I wasn't going to stand by and let her uncle destroy what was perhaps her one chance for happiness. She and Bryan were young, true, but they were very much in love. Lucie needed someone like him, and I suspected he needed her as well.

I would contact him. There couldn't be too many student hostels in St. Petersburg. I couldn't check them out myself, of course, not without giving myself away, but I could have Vanya do it. He could come and go freely, and he would locate Bryan for me and ... and somehow I would arrange a secret meeting and tell him what had happened and see that he and Lucie got together again. I would be risking the wrath of her uncle but that wasn't going to deter me.

Calmly, I made my plans as the carriage took me back to the Marble Palace.

I did something I rarely did when I returned. After removing the cloak, I sought him out, finally locating him in the spacious study. Orlov was sitting at the rosewood desk, beaming as he studied the creamy white card in his hand.

He hadn't heard me come in, and I studied him for a moment, noticing the way a ray of sunlight burnished his tawny hair, noticing the soft, curiously sensual roll of flesh under his chin, noticing the way his loose white silk shirt clung to the musculature of his broad shoulders and back.

Oh yes, the allure was as potent as ever, but I was totally immune to it now, and the thought of our making love again was abhorrent to me.

I coughed. He looked up, surprised. He got to his feet, grinning like a boy. He was wearing soft white leather knee boots and clinging white kidskin breeches, the thin white shirt tucked carelessly into the waistband, the full bell sleeves gathered at the wrists, and yes, he did look like a mature Adonis. I was unmoved. I knew what was beneath that radiant facade. I smiled nevertheless, a polite, perfunctory smile.

"You are back!" he exclaimed. "You buy the nice jewelry?"

I held out my wrist, displaying the bracelet. "I bought this, and these earrings as well. I'm afraid they were very expensive."

"This does not matter." He sauntered toward me. "Ah, yes, they are nice jewels. The diamonds have a special sparkle. The sapphires are the color of your eyes."

"Everyone stared," I said, knowing it would please him.

"I'm sure half of St. Petersburg will know I was at Maitlev's by this evening. They'll probably know what I bought and how much it cost as well."

"The ladies gossip. This cannot be helped."

"I felt like I was on display the whole time," I told him,

"but I managed. Maitlev was very helpful. He's a nice little man."

"I will give him the nice bonus."

"He certainly earned it," I said wryly.

Orlov smiled. He was certainly in a good mood this afternoon.

There was a youthful exuberance about him, a new vitality that seemed to charge the air with vibrations. I had the feeling he wanted to seize me in a mighty hug and swing me around in sheer excess of joy.

"You do a very good job in your role," he said. "Orlov is very pleased with you."

"I'm being well paid."

"Every man in St. Petersburg envies me my good for.

tune. Maybe I give
you
the nice bonus, too."

"That would be lovely."

My lack of enthusiasm was apparent. He tilted his head to one side and peered at me, a slight crease above the, bridge of his nose.

"You do not look happy today," he said.

"I'm worried about Lucie, Gregory."

"Lucie? She stays in her room. She broods. This is not unusual. Lucie is always a moody girl."

"She's very upset about Bryan Lloyd," I said.

I wanted to make absolutely certain. His expression altered, the slight frown becoming a scowl.

"This boy is not good for her," he told me.

"He hasn't come to see her in two weeks now, nor has he sent a message or made any effort to communicate with her. She-she's extremely fond of him. I believe she may even be in love with him."

"She will get over this nonsense soon enough," he said.

"You think so?"

"She will meet a fine Russian man with a title and land.