The Stolen Letters: A Lady Arianna Regency Mystery Novella by Penrose Andrea

Author:Penrose, Andrea [Penrose, Andrea]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-09-04T05:00:00+00:00

The library was blessedly cool, and as Arianna pushed the door halfway closed behind her, she drew in a lungful of the clean, crisp air, trying to control her racing heart. Her pulse had kicked up a notch, its erratic beat seeming overloud in the stillness of the room.

Steady, steady. She reminded herself of several far more dangerous and unpredictable confrontations from the past. Somehow she seemed to possess an uncanny knack for survival. Perhaps Lady Luck felt inclined to give a small edge in the odds to females who dared to defy convention.

“Let us hope our luck holds,” whispered Arianna, acutely aware at that instant of much she wanted to protect Constantina from the pain that failure would bring.

The thought helped her shake off her momentary lethargy. She moved to the hearth, and after adding a few fresh chunks to the banked coals stirred up a blaze of flames. An oil lamp was lit on one of the game tables, its wick turned low. As she crossed to the sideboard, Arianna saw that a chessboard had been set up for play, the neatly aligned rows of black and white figures facing each other, waiting for the game to begin.

She brushed a fingertip to the crown of the white Queen. It was interesting how the ancient game had made the lone woman of the set the most powerful piece on the board.

Powerful, yes, but there were ever-changing threats on the board, ready to pounce if the Queen’s vigilance slipped for even an instant.

A collection of crystal decanters sat on a silver tray. She chose a dark-hued Scottish malt, its amber color tinged with a hint of reddish fire, and poured a full measure into a pair of goblets. Then, taking up steel and flint, she lit the branch of candles. The sinuous, sensuous dance of flames would add to the aura of seduction. She intended to draw out her flirtations, fanning the prince’s carnal desires to a red-hot pitch.

Distraction and lust were key to her mission. Guile was her strength, and she must make the most of it.

The coals crackled in the hearth, sending up a tiny spurt of sparks. Turning to the looking glass on the wall, Arianna tugged her bodice a fraction lower and loosened a few curls from her topknot. Oddly enough, she felt a strange sort of detachment from the face looking back at her. As if a part of her were merely a pawn . . .

The sound of steps in the corridor snapped her focus back to the business at hand. There was no room for doubts or brooding.

Taking up the goblets, Arianna assumed a position that ensured the flames blazing in the hearth would silhouette her figure in flickers of orange-gold fire.

The paneled oak door swung open noiselessly. A long, slanting shadow fell over the carpet. Orlov crossed the threshold and with the heel of his boot gave the door a nudge. It fell shut with an audible click.

“Ah . . .” He rubbed his palms together.

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