They all stared at her in dismay, but the associate reluctantly stepped before her to block her retreat. While she glowered up at him from beneath her brows he said in a placating tone, “I assure you, madam, that you will suffer no further indignities. However, I’m afraid I cannot allow you to leave just yet—there are some questions I am compelled to ask.”
Hattie raised her chin and crossed her arms, her gaze on the stone wall. “I will answer no questions; I demand that I be let go immediately.”
“I believe you mentioned your marriage, madam.”
“What?” exclaimed the baron, astonished. “Married to who?”
The associate turned his head to regard the Frenchman. “You did not know of this?”
“C’est pas vrai—it is nonsense,” the other insisted. “She has no husband; perhaps she seeks to throw dust in your eyes.”
“She claims to have married Count Leczinska.”
There was a long, silent pause while the baron considered this revelation. Hattie was impressed; the man’s gaze never traveled to Dimitry, standing silently behind her. “Impossible,” he finally pronounced. “Perhaps it was a ploy to take her to his bed.”
The associate shrugged. “Perhaps—but it is inconceivable either way; he would never marry her without the emperor’s consent and he would never be mad enough to seduce her.”
The two men turned to consider Hattie, who stared at the wall, stone-faced, and wished she was anywhere else or at least that she knew her lines—she would have given anything to have a quick conference with Dimitry.
“Perhaps,” suggested the associate, “you could explain yourself a bit further, madam; it is possible—although I am loathe to suggest it—that you have been ill-served by the count.”
“I have been ill-served by no one but yourselves,” Hattie retorted, her low voice echoing off the walls, “—and by heaven, my father will hear of it.”
“We shall say no more,” the baron hastily assured her. Then, to the associate, “Better that we discuss the matter with Leczinska at a later time, perhaps.”
But the associate was not so certain and regarded the other with a grave expression. “I wonder,” he mused in a somber tone, “—if the count is who he says he is.”
Chapter 42
The baron frowned. “Why—what do you mean, monsieur?”
The associate took a long breath. “I have heard rumor that Le Sokol has taken an interest in our little endeavors, here.”
The Frenchman’s surprised dismay was palpable in the silence that followed this suggestion. “What have you heard?”
His gaze thoughtful upon Hattie, the associate replied, “Little—of course. But the rumor persists.”
The baron began to pace in agitation, his arms crossed. “This is indeed serious. Would you recognize him? Do we have a description?”
“No. I have never seen him—few have.” The associate added in a bitter tone, “Unlike the emperor, who was forced to make his acquaintance when retreating from Moscow.”
“I know of it—such an insult!” the baron exploded in anger. “And the loss of so many good men—”
“He has much to answer for,” agreed the associate. “And I would very much like to speak to the count, if only to lay these concerns to rest.”
Hattie could see that the baron had been given pause and was weighing his options. With a rush of exhilaration, she suddenly remembered the icon—the Russian Orthodox icon, perhaps—that hung on the wall at the Osiris Inn, and her gaze slid over to Dimitry, who had listened to the discussion with apparent indifference. They didn’t know she had Bing’s pistol and if she shot one of these men, Dimitry should be able to handle the other, certainly; he had already demonstrated his competency in such maneuvers. Fingering the pistol in her pocket she waited, equal parts relieved and nervous, aware that she should not upset any plan and alert to any signal that may be given.
The associate turned to address her again, “Do you know of this, madam? Please understand your supposed husband may represent a grave danger to your father, and it is best that you tell us what you know.”
Hattie crossed her arms and replied coldly, “All I know is that I have been insulted in every way possible and I shall take great pleasure in seeing to it that the appropriate punishment is meted out.”
Any potential response was not to be heard, however, as suddenly there were crashing sounds outside, answered by gunfire and alarmed voices from the Egyptian guards who manned the tomb’s entrance.