Bound by Love (10 page)

With a jerk, she stepped back, as disturbed by his intimate knowledge of her as by his lingering touch.

“Ridiculous.”

His smile widened. “Shall we stroll to the grotto? Perhaps I can prove the truth of my words.”

“You are not nearly as irresistible as you believe yourself to be, your Grace.”

“Liar.” He once again closed the space between them, his hand cupping her cheek and his thumb softly stroking over her bottom lip. “Does it soothe your pride to
know I find you equally irresistible? Most inconvenient, I must admit. You are far more of a distraction than I had anticipated.”

“It was never my desire to be a…distraction, I assure you,” she muttered, a tingle inching down her spine as her lips brushed against his thumb. “Indeed, I would far prefer that you return your attention to your fields and cows.”

His brooding gaze swept over her upturned face. “You should never have come to England, Leonida,” he growled.

“I had no choice.”

A long, fraught silence hummed between them, the mixture of anger and desire a near tangible force.

At last Stefan wrapped an arm around her waist and led her toward a small stone structure on the edge of the garden.

“Come.”

She tried to pull away from his tight grip. “No, I…”

“Do not fear, Leonida,” he interrupted, his voice edged with frustration. “As much as we both might enjoy a nice tumble in the lilies, I do not have the time to devote to a thorough seduction. I have something I wish to show you.”

“What is it?”

“Patience.”

She snapped her lips shut, knowing it was futile to argue. Stefan was not the only one with perception. She had learned a great deal about this man over the past few days.

He could be charming and witty and devoted to those he considered his responsibility. He was also stubborn and arrogant and so determined to be a duke that would make his father proud that he would crush anything or anyone who threatened his sense of duty.

Including her.

Ignoring the dull ache deep in her heart, Leonida allowed herself to be steered into the tiny stone building that was topped by a glass dome and guarded by a gargoyle who kept watch over the narrow door.

Stefan waved her inside and with a wary frown she
entered the building, potently aware of his hard male body following close behind. Then, coming to a halt, her eyes widened in startled pleasure as she glanced around the single room.

She was not certain what she had expected, but it certainly was not the whimsical flight of fantasy that was spread around her.

With a shake of her head, she moved to run a hand over the marble dragon that rose from the tiled floor, his mouth opened as if to spray his fire and his golden wings spread wide. Along the far wall a miniature pirate ship was built of polished wood with a sail that could be lowered and a cannon pointed toward an arched window that overlooked the nearby lake. In another corner two sculptured horses stood, complete with tattered saddles.

It appeared to be a vision straight out of a childhood dream and Leonida had no trouble imagining a pair of raven haired, blue-eyed toddlers dashing about the room with wooden swords in hand.

The sharp pang of yearning came without warning and Leonida was startled to discover her hand had unwittingly shifted to touch her stomach. As if her maternal instincts had been suddenly stirred to life.

It was a frightening thought, and one she was careful to keep hidden as she turned to meet Stefan’s watchful gaze.

“It is charming.”

“My mother had this folly built when Edmond and I were quite young. I believe she hoped such a place would distract us from digging for treasure among her prized roses and tumbling into the lake.”

Leonida lifted her brows. The Duchess had not only been a devoted mother, but wise, as well.

“Did it succeed?”

Stefan shrugged. “I spent a great deal of time slaying dragons and sailing the high seas, but Edmond was not satisfied unless his life was in some sort of genuine peril.”

In spite of herself, Leonida’s lips twitched at the edge of rueful amusement in his voice.

“The two of you are very close.”

“Yes.” His gaze snared hers, a hint of warning in the blue depths. “There is nothing I would not do for him.”

Her flare of humor faded. Enemy, indeed. “And yet he spent a number of years in Russia.”

“At the insistence of the Emperor.”

“You blame Alexander Pavlovich for your brother’s absence?”

“Only in part.” A shadow fell across his face. “Edmond…blamed himself for my parents’ death. His work for the Emperor not only kept him occupied, but it offered him a reasonable excuse not to visit a home filled with painful reminders.” He shook his head, as if clearing away the lingering regret. “Thankfully he has put the past behind him and found his peace.”

“And what of you, Stefan?” she could not resist prodding.

“What?”

“When will
you
put your past behind you?”

His jaw tightened, proving her blow had landed, but his brooding gaze never wavered.

“We are discussing Edmond. Now that he has Brianna and the baby, I would not so readily allow him to be lured back to Russia again.”

She heaved an aggravated sigh. “So far as I know Alexander Pavlovich has no intention of requesting Lord Summerville’s presence.”

“He has returned to St. Petersburg.”

Leonida felt a measure of relief that the Czar was safely back in his palace, but little more. He possessed her loyalty and gratitude for ensuring her a comfortable existence, but he had simply been too distant for her to ever think of him as her father.

“His advisors will be pleased. As will my mother. The
Emperor’s enemies become far too bold when his attention is distracted.”

“Which enemies?”

Leonida turned to study the dragon, realizing that she had said too much.

“Why did you bring me here?”

“You seem devoted to exploring Meadowlands from attics to cellar. I did not wish you to overlook my childhood haven.”

She refused to react to his deliberate jab. The estate was too large and the staff too numerous for her to keep her search completely hidden. She had to trust her pretense of casual curiosity would conceal her true purpose.

“You did say I could explore the estate,” she said stiffly.

“So I did. Of course, I did not realize that you would be quite so thorough.”

“You have several lovely works of art.”

“And you are interested in art?”

“I appreciate beauty.”

His hands landed on her shoulders, spinning her back to meet his hooded gaze. She expected his expression to be one of accusation. He was, after all, dangerously suspicious of her interest in Meadowland. Instead she shivered at the barely leashed hunger that tightened his beautiful features.

“As do I,” he rasped.

“Stefan…”

She did not know what she intended to say and in the end it did not matter as his head swooped downward and he caught her mouth in a savage kiss.

Leonida’s strangled gasp of surprise was caught in her throat, but she made no effort to push him away as his arms wrapped around her and he yanked her against his hard body.

She tried to tell herself it was pointless to struggle. He was, after all, considerably larger and stronger. Unfortunately, she was too honest to deny the fierce joy that hummed through her body, making her lips part in silent
encouragement and her arms circle his neck as she arched even closer.

She had ached for this moment since Stefan had joined her in the garden.

Stefan muttered something beneath his breath, his lips moving restlessly over her face. Her fingers sank into the satin curls at the nape of his neck as his impatient caresses sent jolts of excitement through her.

There was no explanation for the explosive reaction to his touch, and at the moment Leonida did not care. All that mattered were the delicious sensations that curled through the pit of her stomach.

Lost in the pleasure of his mouth nuzzling along the curve of her neck, Leonida was unaware of anything beyond Stefan’s arms and it came as an unpleasant shock when he was abruptly thrusting her away.

“Damn,” he muttered, heading toward the door. “What is it, Maggie?”

Leonida pressed a hand to her thundering heart as she heard the maid respond.

“Mr. Riddle sent word that the workers have arrived to repair the bridge in the south paddock. They were told not to start without you.”

“Thank you. I will be along in a moment.” There was the sound of retreating footsteps, and grasping the doorframe Stefan lowered his head, dragging in deep breaths. Several moments passed before he at last turned to regard her with a sardonic expression. “It appears that duty calls. I will inform Goodson not to hold dinner for me.” His gaze lowered to her lips, still swollen from his kiss. “Try to stay out of mischief, my dove.”

L
EFT ALONE IN THE CHILDREN’S
folly, Leonida moved to the window overlooking the lake.

A part of her understood she should be returning to Meadowland to continue her search while Stefan was occupied with his bridge, but another part was still reeling from the unexpected surge of desire.

She needed a few moments to collect her scattered wits before returning to her task. And besides, she was not at all certain her wobbly legs could carry her.

Watching the swans glide across the water, Leonida’s heart stuttered as the soft sound of footsteps broke the silence. Slowly turning, she watched the shadow fall across the open doorway.

“Stefan…”

She bit off her words, an uneasy alarm coiling inside her as a large man with a brutish face and small, dark eyes as hard as agates stepped over the threshold. Instinctively, she pressed against the wall, noting the rough linen shirt and wool trousers.

Was he a servant at Meadowland? Hardly likely. She had encountered most of the staff over the past few days and would surely recognize him.

Nor could he be a local tenant. None would dare to regard a guest of the Duke of Huntley with such vulgar interest.

Hiding a shiver, she desperately calculated the odds of shoving her way past his hulking form and reaching the door.

As if sensing her thoughts, the stranger prowled toward her, a mocking smile on his lips.

“Miss Karkoff,” he said, his voice thick with an accent that sent a chill down her spine. Russian. And no henchman of her mother, of that she was absolutely certain. “I have been waiting for an opportunity to speak with you alone.”

“Who are you?”

“Let us just say that a mutual acquaintance sent me.”

Gathering her composure, Leonida forced herself to flick a dismissive glance over his shabby clothing.

She was effectively trapped. What choice did she have but to try and brazen her way out of danger?

“I doubt we have any mutual friends.”

An ugly smile twisted his lips. “You think you are better than me?” he taunted. “You might have money and fancy clothes, but you are a common bastard. Just like me.”

“I have only to scream and a dozen servants will come running. Do you wish to face the English gallows?”

“Oh, you will not scream.”

“How can you be so certain?”

“Because you will have to confess to your lover the true reason you have come to England.”

She struggled to maintain her disdainful expression even as panic curled through her stomach. He had to be connected to Nikolas Babevich. How else would he know her purpose in coming to Surrey?

But why had he followed her to England? And, more importantly, what did he intend to do to her?

“I am here to visit Lord and Lady Summerville,” she said, her tone stiff.

“Nothing so pretty. You have come to steal the letters.”

“I do not know…”

“I am not a fool,” he growled. “You are here to find the Countess’s letters. Which will save me the bother.”

Accepting her charade was hopeless, Leonida instead concentrated on his unwitting revelation.

“So, they are here.” She tilted her chin. “Which means whoever is attempting to blackmail my mother has been lying when he claims to have them in his possession. The Countess will be quite pleased.”

“Not for long,” he warned, moving with surprising speed for a man of his bulk.

Before Leonida could react, he had a large, extremely sharp dagger pressed to her throat.

“Are you mad?” she breathed, as outraged as she was frightened. The man smelled of rotting teeth and desperation.

“You will find the letters and deliver them to me.”

“Or what? You will kill me?”

“After I spend a few days making you regret having disappointed me.” He leered down at her stubborn expression. “Or perhaps it would not be regret. A Russian woman needs more than a soft English steer between her legs. She needs a Siberian bull.”

Leonida didn’t have to pretend her revulsion. “You are vile.”

He deliberately pressed the knife deeper. “I will give you until tomorrow night to bring me the letters. I will wait behind the stables for you at ten o’clock.”

“But…” She struggled against the surge of panic. “I do not know where they are.”

“Then you had better concentrate on searching for them rather than playing with the Duke’s cock.”

She ignored his vulgarity. Later she could be horrified by the thought that this hideous man had been spying on her and Stefan.

“What if I cannot find them?”

“Then I will slice your maid’s throat and take you someplace where we can be alone. After that…” His smile was one of cruel anticipation. “Well, you will disappear into the cursed fog that smothers this country. Such a tragedy.”

“If I disappear the Emperor will not rest until he punishes those responsible.”

“A risk I am willing to take. Get me those letters.”

She swallowed the painful lump in her throat. “I will not betray Russia.”

“Oh, I think you will,” he sneered. “Loyalty becomes an indulgence when you have a knife to your throat.”

“And what would you know of loyalty?” she hissed.

His features twisted with a terrifying hatred. “You think I should owe allegiance to an Emperor whose soldiers raped my mother and left her in the gutter to die? Or perhaps to the whores who took me in and allowed me to be used by the depraved noblemen who liked young boys?”

She might have possessed a measure of sympathy for his horrible life if he did not have a knife pressed to her throat.

“And your employer?” she instead demanded. “Are you loyal to him?”

“So long as he pays.”

“I have wealth. I could pay you a large amount.”

“A temptation, I must admit. Unfortunately my—” his eyes flashed with something that might be dread “—employer is not a gentleman who would kindly accept being betrayed.”

“You could disappear,” she desperately urged. In this moment she would give her entire fortune to be rid of this man. “How would he ever find you?”

“He would find me. And when he did he would make me howl for death.” The stranger shook his head, his thatch of greasy brown hair swinging around his face. “No, I will not fail him.”

“But…”

“Enough,” he rasped, turning the knife so the tip was pressed beneath her chin. “Return to the house and find those letters for me.”

“Fine,” she breathed, accepting that for the moment she had no choice but to give in to his demands. He was clearly as demented as he was violent. Not a particularly reassuring combination. “I will return to the house.”

His eyes narrowed. “And Miss Karkoff.”

“What?”

“Do not even think of confessing to the Duke,” he warned in lethal tones. “Not unless you wish him to be found floating in his lake.”

“You would not dare.”

His lips twisted. “Few things would give me more pleasure than choking the life from a spineless English nobleman. What is he without his fortune and servants?” He turned to spit on the floor. “A weak, pathetic waste of flesh who deserves to die. Keep that in mind.”

Leonida shivered. Stefan murdered by this filthy bastard? His dark, powerful beauty forever extinguished?

No.

It did not matter what she had to do.

She would never allow Stefan to be harmed.

D
RIVEN TO DESPERATION
, Leonida raced back to the house and tracked down Sophy, who was flirting with a handsome young footman in the kitchens.

Dragging the startled maid up the stairs, she hastily revealed her confrontation in the garden with the Russian henchman and the necessity of completing her task with all possible speed.

Which meant the time for discretion was at an end.

Leading Sophy directly to the Duchess’s chambers rather than requesting her to keep guard, Leonida commanded the maid to search for a hidden safe or any papers that might have been stuffed out of sight. She could only trust to her dubious luck that the army of servants was busy in another part of the house.

Astonishingly, her luck did hold.

At least as far as the servants were concerned.

Unfortunately, she was decidedly out of luck when it came to finding the letters.

After four hours’ futile searching, Sophy heaved a sigh
and glanced about the Duchess’s bedchamber with the same frustration that smoldered deep within Leonida. “I still say you should just let me get my pistol and shoot the odious jackass who threatened you,” she muttered.

On her knees beside the rosewood writing table where she had been searching for a secret drawer, Leonida brushed a stray curl off her cheek. “If I knew where to find him, I would shoot him myself.”

“What if we can’t…”

“We must, Sophy,” Leonida interrupted sternly. “Keep looking.”

“Where?” Sophy waved her hands in a helpless motion. “We have searched the chambers from end to end.”

Leonida grimaced. The maid had a point. It was difficult to imagine they could have overlooked even the most cleverly hidden safe.

“They must be here,” she said, as much to reassure herself as the maid. She had no choice but to find the damned letters. With a shake of her head, she regarded her maid with a frown. “Where do you keep your valuables?”

Sophy shrugged, her round face flushed with weariness. “I don’t have many, but I do hide my few coins and best stockings beneath my bed.”

Leonida sighed. She’d already checked beneath the bed, a dozen times. And beyond discovering a few stray spider-webs on the expensive carpet…

Suddenly, Leonida stiffened, her eyes wide with a startling thought.

“Oh.”

“What?”

“I just recalled an acquaintance of my mother who had recently installed a safe in her floor.” Rising to her feet, Leonida hurried to the edge of the carpet and began tugging it upward. “Help me.”

Together the two of them managed to roll the carpet toward the center of the room, revealing a worn wooden
floor beneath. A majority of the carpet was, of course, pinned down by the various furniture arranged about the room, but they managed to pull it aside far enough to reveal the barely visible outline of a trapdoor that came complete with a flat, brass handle.

“There it is,” Sophy breathed.

They both rushed forward and, bending down, Leonida tugged on the handle, only noticing the small keyhole drilled into the wood when the door refused to budge.

“Damn,” she muttered. “We need the key.”

Sophy muttered beneath her breath. “Well, it ain’t in here.”

Leonida straightened, her heart lodged in her throat. Over the past days she had searched through every room in Meadowland, including a brief rummage through Stefan’s chambers. A search that had created a strange mixture of horror at her intrusion into his privacy and an undeniable fascination with studying his most intimate possessions.

“I suspect I know where it is,” she whispered, a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“Where?”

“Come with me.” Taking Sophy’s hand, she led her from the room and down the long corridor. “I need you to keep watch.”

“Of course,” Sophy agreed, only to suck in a dismayed gasp as Leonida halted before the door to Stefan’s rooms. “Oh lord.”

“Remain here and warn me if someone approaches,” Leonida commanded.

“This is a very bad notion.”

Leonida battled back a hysterical urge to giggle. Her entire journey to England had been nothing more than a very bad notion.

“I agree, Sophy, but I must do this.”

Sophy heaved a sigh. “I suppose.”

“I will be as quick as possible. Stay here.”

Wiping her clammy hands on her skirt, Leonida forced herself to push open the nearby door and step inside.

As on the first occasion she had entered, she was struck by the sheer masculinity of the room. The furniture was made of heavy English oak and furbished in a pale ocher satin with heavy green velvet curtains. On the walls were a stunning collection of Van Dykes and near the towering window was a floor-to-ceiling bookcase that was enclosed in glass to protect the priceless first edition books.

She shivered as the scent of Stefan teased at her nose, reminding her of the feel of his slender fingers stroking over her skin and the taste of his lips against her mouth. With a shake of her head, she thrust aside the distracting thoughts and headed directly for the desk that was nearly hidden beneath stacks of farming manuals and leather-bound ledgers.

She would have years to recall Stefan and the searing sensations he had stirred to life. Now was not the time to be indulging in fantasies.

Without hesitation, she tugged open the top drawer and pulled out the large ring of keys she had noted during her first search of the room. Surely one of them had to fit the lock?

Shutting the drawer, she hurried out of the room and leaned close to Sophy to whisper in her ear.