Dimitri’s eyes gleamed with barely leashed energy. “Natalia, you are magnificent.”
The air felt electric. She beamed at him across the expanse of the hotel suite, breathless simply from looking at him.
“The two of you need to strive for a little decorum,” Poppy said, throwing ice water on them. “It’s embarrassing even to be in the same room with you.”
Natalia cleared her throat. It was mortifying to admit, but Poppy was right. Today wasn’t the time to indulge her infatuation with Dimitri. Today they needed to begin shifting the balance of power to Dimitri’s side in his battle against the czar.
Once again, Dimitri was impressed with Natalia’s instinct for business. Her prediction about Count Cassini’s willingness to accept her blunt demand for a meeting had been correct. They were told to arrive at the embassy at three o’clock for a private appointment with the ambassador to discuss funding for the Trans-Siberian Railway.
Poppy announced she was exhausted from the travel and refused to accompany them to the embassy, which was a relief. Dimitri didn’t want Poppy underfoot and happily agreed that she was entitled to a nap after the long journey.
It was an unusually balmy day for mid-April. They rode with the carriage top rolled down so he could see Washington, which looked much nicer than New York. The tree-lined avenues, the monuments, and the open public squares all reminded him of Saint Petersburg. The Russian embassy was in a palatial building set back from the street by a wide lawn. The front doors were lavishly embellished, and everything carried a whiff of typical Russian grandeur.
What wasn’t typical was their hostess. Countess Cassini was only eighteen years old. The coldly beautiful girl wore a loose gown of green silk that barely clung to respectability, but herjewels were appalling. A thick choker of Byzantine gold encircled her neck, and matching chandelier earrings dangled on each side of her gamine face.
“My uncle will be with us shortly,” she said in heavily accented English as she led them to a tea table in the parlor. The girl waited for a footman to pull out a chair before she lowered herself onto it, her back as straight as a yardstick. A copper samovar heavily embellished with gemstones graced the center of the table. “Count Cassini likes for me to meet his visitors first. He believes everyone should have a nice tea before enduring diplomatic toil.”
So the rumors were true. Count Cassini had elevated this brassy child to be his hostess. The American secretary of state claimed that despite the Cassini family’s Italian origin, they were as Russian as borscht and lied with fabulous virtuosity. So far, Dimitri concurred. Titles in Russia were sometimes loosely distributed, but even so, it was odd to have a girl this young serve as a hostess. Nevertheless, he played along. He wasn’t here to judge the count’s strange relationship with this young woman but to force acknowledgment of what happened at the Amur River.
The countess poured the tea with a perfect display of grace, but she cast furtive glances at Natalia throughout. The two women could not be more different. While the countess dressed with theatrical abandon, Natalia wore one of her painfully restrictive business suits, cinched in at the waist and sporting a slim necktie tucked into a silk vest.
“You have business with my uncle?” the countess asked as she handed a teacup to Natalia.
Natalia nodded as she accepted the cup. “I handle the Russian investments for the Blackstone Bank. There are several issues the ambassador should know about.”
“Ladies do not interfere with such things in Russia,” the girl replied with a hint of disdain, but she brightened when a little white spaniel came bounding into the room, yapping with fervor. She lifted the dog to cuddle on her lap. Dimitri wanted totoss the ill-mannered beast outside, but he was supposed to be nothing more than Natalia’s assistant, so he sat by obediently.
Count Cassini soon joined them. Dimitri and Natalia rose, but the girl remained in her seat, proud as a queen.
The count was a middle-aged man who wore his steel-gray hair ruthlessly groomed. A collection of medals glittered on his chest, and he greeted them with the utmost formality. He went directly to Natalia.
“Miss Blackstone?” he asked, and she held out her hand. The count took it and gave her a little bow.
“Thank you for meeting with us,” Natalia said with admirable ease, although it shouldn’t surprise Dimitri. Natalia had been raised since birth to be comfortable around robber barons, politicians, and dignitaries. “I have brought my consultant on Russian business, Mr. Dimitri Mikhailovich. We both have an interest in ensuring the success of the Trans-Siberian Railway, so I am grateful for the opportunity to discuss our concerns with you.”
The count’s face cooled a fraction. He gave a brusque nod to the countess, who prepared a cup of tea for him. He looked carefully at Dimitri but gave no sign of recognition as he accepted a teacup from the countess.
“The Blackstones should have no worries about the progress of the railroad,” Count Cassini said. “I gather its construction is surpassing all expectations.”
Natalia nodded. “So far, but I am concerned that there may be repercussions from the Boxer Rebellion in China.”
Count Cassini turned his attention to Dimitri. “Have you been telling her tales?” he asked in Russian.
Shifting into Russian in the middle of a conversation was astonishingly rude and surprising for a diplomat, but Dimitri answered in the same language. “Miss Blackstone is well read in international affairs, so I did not need to inform her of the Boxer Rebellion.”
“Tell her it had no impact on the railroad and we are progressing according to plan. I shall contact her father to seekreassurance that there will be no delay in his payments to the builders.”
“It is actually Miss Blackstone who is managing the railroad account. You should know that she is fluent in Russian and can understand everything we are saying.”
Count Cassini blanched but recovered quickly, sending a conciliatory glance toward Natalia. “My pardon, ma’am. The Russian people are grateful for our long and productive partnership with your father’s bank.”
“Thank you,” Natalia replied, continuing to speak in Russian. “I am concerned with the southern leg of the railroad that cuts through Manchuria. The treaty negotiated in 1858 grants the Chinese people who settled north of the river the right to live in peace.”
Count Cassini bristled. “Ma’am, having served as the ambassador to China for five years, I don’t need a tutorial from you on the Treaty of Aigun.”
Dimitri clenched his fists beneath the table. It was hard to calmly accept Count Cassini’s insulting tone, but he had to remember that for today he was not an aristocrat, only Natalia’s consultant. He swallowed back his ire as Natalia spoke.
“I cannot force you to acknowledge the massacre at the Amur River, but I can withdraw financial support for the railroad if we think more atrocities are likely to occur.”
