The Trojan Icon (Ethan Gage Adventures Book 8) Read Free

evaluating each other’s dresses, then bussing four to six times, next promising eternal friendship, and finally speculating on the preening males. I recognized the ritual, but you have to be born to that peculiar mix of grace and wit that the French bring to their palaces. I just play the sharpshooting American and neutral diplomat.
    “I’m impressed by all the gold,” I went on. “For a nation sustained by millions of serfs, imperial Russia has accumulated more than its share of precious metal.” The country must have a mine somewhere, though it would be crass to ask for directions. “Best paint job since the Sistine Chapel. Not as holy, but damned inspiring in its own way. But it’s not the court you have to equal, Prince Dolgoruki, it’s the French army. Isn’t it?”
    He scowled. “Which you claim to know how to beat.”
    “I’ve absorbed the precepts of Napoleon.”
    “And when is this secret to be shared with our tsar?”
    “I’m awaiting Alexander’s invitation. Foreign minister Czartoryski suggested I might catch his eye here.” I dropped the name of Dolgoruki’s rival to remind the prince I was fortified with my own powerful allies. “I anticipate the tsar will want my perspective on America, too. Jefferson is my old friend, and the two leaders have written each other.” As often as I can, I mention the President and Franklin, in hope their luster will rub off. Talleyrand, Fouché, Nelson, Pitt. I’m shameless.
    “Stay away from Czartoryski. He cares more about Poland than Russia.”
    “Well, the tsar’s wife seems to like him.” It was common knowledge that Elizabeth and Adam had been lovers with Alexander’s permission, since the tsar was besotted with beautiful Polish mistress Maria Narayshkina. One needed a chart to keep track of who was sleeping with whom in St. Petersburg.
    “And the empress consort has gone on to another lover, at that fool’s peril.” Dolgoruki meant dashing Captain Alexis Okhotnikov, who strutted while the nobility quietly made bets on how long he’d live before an accident ended his unsanctioned romance with the tsar’s wife. “Make no mistake, Gage. Be useful or find yourself out in the snow. Or in Siberia, should you really displease him.”
    I smiled brightly. “I’m sure the same admonition applies to you.”
    “I was born to this. You, like Bonaparte, are a scrambler.”
    “I’m honored by the comparison. He’s an able fellow.”
    “We’ll have our revenge on him someday. Perhaps I’ll bring your wife his famous hat.”
    “I’d suggest trying peace. He’s a difficult friend, but a terrible enemy.” And I steered Astiza away, confident that Dolgoruki was simply jealous of my influence. St. Petersburg was stuffed with foreign military officers, architects, artists, gunners, chemists, diplomats, and explorers. Even the tsar’s doctor was an Englishman named Sir Alexander Crichton, which was prudent given the Russian tradition of poison and quackery.
    “You shouldn’t antagonize the noble who brought us here,” Astiza murmured. “Never humiliate a prince.”
    “The title is an honorific, like a knighthood in England.” The Dolgorukis were an old and noble family, but heredity guarantees little in Russia. A good chunk of the aristocracy is chronically bankrupt from poor soil, worse weather, absentee management, and tsarist disfavor. “Word is that Dolgoruki will be promoted to save face and sent south to fight the Turks. Good riddance.”
    “You have a dangerous flair for insult, husband.”
    “I’ve had much practice.”
    Dire circumstance has made me a periodic spy for both the French and British, with and against the French army in war, and tangled up with Red Indians, pirates, slave revolutionaries, gypsies, savants, secret societies, and seductresses. None of this has proven very profitable, but it has taught me a great deal about human nature. People will go on scheming and shooting no matter which nation hires me.
    “I