The Curse Of The Diogenes Club by Anna Lord Read Free Book Online Page A

with a curly wig. He checked the
gold-emblazoned name on the gilt-edged card a second time and
nodded him through.
     
    Too easy! Colonel Moriarty
smiled as he followed the crowd into the banqueting rooms. He was
hungry and did not stint on the royal fayre. He was helping himself
to seconds of smoked salmon in aspic when Horatio ‘bloody’
Hornblower appeared in the doorway looking vexed.
    Moriarty slipped out the
nearest door and took the servants’ stairs to the next level. A
lady in a purple and gold dress was looking strangely at him so he
gave her a wide berth and mounted a set of narrow spiral stairs
that led up to the top of one of the Mughal domes.
    He’d already carried out an
exploration of the pavilion and knew that the two end domes housed
a couple of oriental type divans and some hookahs, probably to keep
in with the oriental theme. He could hide in one of them until just
before midnight then locate the Countess and whisk her away while
everyone else was distracted by the fireworks. At least, that was
the plan.
    He yanked off the curly wig and
scratched his bald head with both hands then stretched out
comfortably on the divan and closed his eyes for about ten minutes
when the door opened suddenly. There was nowhere to hide in a round
room so he braced for the unknown but what happened next took his
breath away.
    “Colonel Moriarty!”
    Every nerve ending was suddenly
on fire. “Close the door. Did anyone follow you?”
    “What are you doing here? Why
are you dressed in Dr Watson’s kilt?”
    His heart was banging against
his ribs. “How did you know I was up here?”
    “My maid saw you sneaking up
the stairs.”
    “The purple and gold dress was
your maid?”
    Xenia was wearing Princess
Paraskovia’s Renaissance costume along with a splendid amethyst
parure that belonged to the Countess to make sure she looked the
part.
    “What are you up to? What are
you doing in Dr Watson’s kilt?”
    “It was the only way I could
get through the front door.”
    “You stole his kilt!”
    “And his invitation. He didn’t
need it. He’s sleeping soundly. I left him covered with a blanket.
He’s fine.”
    “This is madness. You cannot
gate-crash the Prince Regent’s ball and impersonate another man.
You will end up court martialed and drummed out of the army.”
    “I can always join Freddy’s
regiment,” he quipped. “If someone who isn’t even in the army can
get promoted to Lieutenant then it shouldn’t be too difficult to
get a posting as cannon fodder on the front line.”
    She ignored the gung-ho
rejoinder. “So you’ve heard?”
    “Yes, but what no one seems to
know is who organized it and why?”
    She adjusted her ermine-edged
décolletage to accommodate her pert breasts. “It’s truly
baffling.”
    The ploy distracted him but
momentarily. “Beautiful liar. You always know exactly what’s going
on. There’s something else. There’s been a whisper all night about
the wife of the new Russian ambassador. She’s not here tonight and
there are all sorts of wild rumours floating round.”
    She looked unconcerned as she
patted the ermine cuff to make sure the fur was going in the same
direction. “I heard that she had separated from her husband and
chose not to come to the ball to save embarrassment.”
    “Let’s hope you’re right.
Otherwise England will be fighting a war on two fronts. Do you know
the Russian ambassador, Prince Sergei?”
    “We met once in Odessa. I was
about five years of age.”
    “What about his wife?”
    “We were never introduced.”
    His brain was jumping from one
thing to another. “I saw you dancing with Nash.”
    “This is a ball,” she
reminded frostily in keeping with the resplendent Snow Queen
froideur. “I didn’t realize you knew Major Nash?”
    “We were at military college
together. Do you know who he works for?”
    “I presume he goes by the title
of Major because he works for the army.”
    “There you go again. Beautiful
liar. It must be