Bound by Love (5 page)

She silently tucked the information away. She at least now knew she needed to discover a means of searching the Duchess’s private parlor and that it was on the east side of the house.

Enough for now.

“I cannot imagine a room that does not have a lovely view,” she said lightly. “Your parkland is quite magnificent.”

“Somewhat less formal than your Russian gardens, although my mother did insist her rose garden be designed with the memory of the Summer Palace in mind. There are a great number of statues and marble fountains.”

She glanced toward the windows with their view of the deer park. “While you prefer a less tamed landscape?”

He steepled his fingers beneath his chin. “Nature is a fine enough artist for me.”

“And yet you spend hours taming your fields.”

She turned back in time to catch the hint of genuine amusement that softened his features.

“So I do, but not, I must point out, for artistic purposes.”

“No, your work is far more important.”

His gaze lowered to linger on her lips. “Take care, Miss Karkoff, or you will quite turn my head.”

Her heart missed a beat and she hastily set aside her cup and shoved a piece of seedcake into her mouth. Anything to distract herself from the heat that suddenly swirled through her body.

“Somehow I doubt that anything or anyone easily turns your head, your Grace,” she at last muttered. “You are very…”

“What?”

“Shrewd.”

“Thus far I am substantive and shrewd.” He smiled, but Leonida detected a faint hint of pique in his voice. “More traits that one desires in a man of business than a gentleman. Perhaps I will not have my head turned after all.”

She lifted her brows in surprise. “You would prefer I think of you as shallow and stupid?”

He caught and held her gaze. “I would prefer handsome and charming.”

For a startling moment, Leonida found herself lost in his stunning eyes, momentarily forgetting her mother’s pleas, the damnable letters and even the suspicion that this man was toying with her much like a cat with a cornered mouse.

Her only thought was that this gentleman stirred sensations in her body that were as shocking as they were delicious. And if they had encountered one another in a Russian drawing room, she would have done everything in her power to try and captivate him.

Abruptly realizing that his expression had become speculative as she gawked at him in silence, Leonida set aside her plate.

“You were correct, your Grace.”

“I was?”

“These are the tastiest seedcakes I have ever eaten.”

“Ah.” His lips twitched. “Tell me, Miss Karkoff, how do matters stand in Russia?”

She blinked at the unexpected question. “I am not certain what you mean.”

“When my brother left St. Petersburg he had just assisted in halting a near rebellion.”

Her lips thinned at the unwelcome reminder of the uprising among the Emperor’s guards. As her mother had so recently pointed out, the politics in Russia were always a murky affair, with a dozen secret societies and foreign powers plotting to overthrow the Czar at any given time, but the betrayal by his own army had been designed to strike Alexander Pavlovich directly in his heart.

“Yes, it was an unfortunate incident.”

“Rather more than unfortunate,” he drawled.

Her chin tilted with offended loyalty. “England is not without a few revolts by the people.”

His smile widened at her sharp tone. “True. I was merely curious about the mood in St. Petersburg.”

“Much as it always is, I suppose.”

“Has the Czar returned from his travels?”

She considered her words, wondering if his interest was merely passing curiosity or something more.

“He had not when I left, although I believe he was expected shortly. The Emperor does not keep me informed of his movements.”

“According to my brother, the Emperor rarely keeps
anyone
informed of his movements.”

Well, that was true enough. Unfortunately.

“Do you have a specific interest in Czar Alexander?”

The handsome features hardened with an unmistakable warning. “I am very fond of Alexander Pavlovich, but he does possess a habit of putting my brother at risk when it suits his purpose.”

She blinked in confusion. “I understood that Lord Summerville had resigned his position with the Emperor?”

“Yes, he has.”

Was that his suspicion? That she had come to Surrey to lure Lord Summerville back to Russia?

Hastily she was on her feet, hoping to disguise the flood of relief that raced through her.

“I should return to Hillside before Lady Summerville begins to worry.”

“But you have not yet chosen a book,” he protested, rising from the chair to stand at her side.

“Perhaps another day. A woman in Lady Summerville’s condition must not be made anxious.”

“Condition?” His brows lifted. “Did Brianna tell you she is increasing?”

“Not precisely, but it was not difficult to surmise considering…” She broke off her words, suddenly realizing it was not her place to reveal that poor Brianna spent most mornings battling her nausea.

“So, I am not the only who is shrewd.”

“Hardly shrewd,” she denied. If she had a bit of sense she would never have agreed to her mother’s insane plot. “Goodbye, your Grace.”

With a hasty curtsy, she was heading for the door, not at all surprised that before she could yank the thing open, the Duke’s voice was halting her escape.

Nothing was easy when this man was near.

“I shall see you at dinner, of course.”

Reluctantly she turned, rather disconcerted to discover that he had moved to stand behind his desk.

“Dinner?”

“My brother has very kindly invited me to dine at Hillside.”

Her heart jerked at his words, but she knew it was not from fear. “I see. Then until later, your Grace.”

“A moment, Miss Karkoff,” he murmured, once again
halting her escape, bending down to pluck something from the floor.

“Yes?”

Straightening, he held out his hand. “Your hairpin, I believe.”

This time it was fear that made her heart leap and her blood run cold. Damn. How could she have been so careless?

Frozen in place, she frantically searched her mind as he smoothly crossed the room.

“I…it must have fallen out while I was admiring the view,” she managed to croak, her throat dry as she met his brooding gaze.

“No doubt.”

Praying her hand did not tremble, she reached to pluck the diamond hairpin from his outstretched palm.

“Thank you.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

She jumped at the abrupt question. “What?”

“The view. Did you enjoy it?”

“Yes, I…very much.” Oh lord, she had to get away from that all too knowing gaze. She felt as if he could see into her very soul. “Goodbye, your Grace.”

With that unnerving swiftness he had grasped her hand, lifting it to his lips to caress her knuckles with a slow, intimate kiss.

“À
bientôt
, my angel.”

L
EANING AGAINST THE DOORJAM
, Stefan listened to the swish of muslin as Miss Karkoff rushed down the hallway. Just for a moment, he allowed himself to savor the lingering scent of jasmine and the memory of her warm flesh beneath his lips.

Christ. He had never been so aware of a woman. The delicate line of her profile. The lush curve of her mouth. The gentle mounds of her breasts that begged for a man’s touch.

His body didn’t give a damn why she was in Surrey. Only how swiftly he could get her into his bed.

Thrusting aside the dangerous thoughts, Stefan waited for the inevitable arrival of his butler. Goodson had not been pleased by Stefan’s invitation to allow Miss Karkoff to make use of the library. The servant had devoted his life to ensuring that Stefan was protected from even the least disruption.

While he appreciated Goodson’s dedication, Stefan intended to ensure the poor servant put aside his protective nature. At least until he discovered what the blazes Miss Karkoff was plotting.

When Stefan had casually suggested to Miss Karkoff that she visit his library, it had been with a vague hope of earning her gratitude, and perhaps luring her into revealing some hint of her true purpose in Surrey. He had not truly expected her to accept the offer. Not if she were here to sway Edmond into some foolish scheme for the Emperor.

Now he had to wonder if he was mistaken.

Oh, he was still suspicious of the beautiful woman. She was hiding something. He was as certain of that as he was certain that she had been searching his desk before he had so unexpectedly returned home.

But what?

He was brooding on the puzzle when the thin, silver-haired butler silently slid down the hall to stand before him.

“Ah, Goodson.”

The servant offered a bow. “Your Grace?”

“When did Miss Karkoff arrive?”

A sour expression settled on the dignified face. “Precisely at a quarter past one.”

Stefan gave a slow nod. He had arrived back at the house at exactly two o’clock.

“So, she was here some time before I returned.”

“You did say that you had invited her to make use of the library. I hope I did not do wrong to allow her to stay?”

“Not at all.” Stefan absently toyed with the gold signet ring that every Duke of Huntley had worn since the time
of Henry the Eighth. “I must say I extended the invitation in the hopes of learning more about the chit, but I did not truly expect her to make an appearance. Now I must reconsider my entire theory.”

Goodson frowned. “I beg pardon, sir?”

“I assumed she had come to Surrey with some ploy to lure my brother into Alexander Pavlovich’s schemes. Now I must wonder…” Stefan shook his head in aggravation. He was not accustomed to anyone being capable of playing him for a fool.

Miss Leonida Karkoff would pay.

And he could think of the sweetest of punishments.

“I shall make certain she is not allowed to cross the threshold again,” Goodson swore, thankfully unaware of Stefan’s erotic thoughts.

“No, Goodson. I wish you to make her feel a welcomed guest whenever she arrives.”

The butler scowled. “Are you certain, your Grace?”

“Quite certain.”

“If you do not trust her, then surely she should not be given the opportunity to cause mischief?”

Stefan’s lips twisted. “I have no genuine reason not to trust her, to be honest. She is most likely precisely what she seems to be. A young Russian noblewoman who is anxious to become acquainted with English society.”

“But?”

“But, in the event she is not, then I desire to know precisely what she is doing here. And the only means to do that is to keep a close eye upon her.”

Goodson clicked his tongue. “So I am to allow her to freely roam about your house?”

“Allow her to roam, but I want a close eye kept upon her,” Stefan corrected. “Just ensure she is not aware that she is being watched.”

“As you wish.”

The servant heaved a heavy sigh, but Stefan was confi
dent that the efficient butler would fulfill the command with his usual efficiency.

Of course, efficiency was not all that the delicate situation demanded.

“Goodson.”

“Yes, your Grace?”

He straightened from the doorjamb, his expression one of warning.

“Be sure that Miss Karkoff has no reason to suspect she is anything but an appreciated guest.”

Goodson dipped his head in ready understanding. “Very well.”

L
EONIDA TOSSED ASIDE PRIDE
and even dignity as she scurried from Meadowland and headed back to Hillside at a pace hardly suitable for a proper lady.

She only wished that she could return to St. Petersburg at an equally swift pace.

What a fool she had been to come to England. It was not, after all, as if she had actually believed her mother’s blithe assurances that it would be a simple matter to slip into a duke’s grand manor house filled with a few dozen servants and waltz out with a packet of letters that had been hidden for the past twenty or thirty years. And that was before she had met the Duke of Huntley.

Why did the man have to be so annoyingly perceptive?

From the moment they had been introduced he had regarded her with a brooding suspicion that he barely bothered to conceal beneath his smooth charm. And after today…

She halted just outside the gate leading to Lady Summerville’s private garden, glancing down at the diamond hairpin clutched in her hand. Well, needless to say, she had done nothing to ease his distrust of her presence in Surrey.

And worse, that maddening fascination she felt whenever he was near refused to be squashed, no matter how desperately she warned herself that it threatened to ruin everything.

For the moment, the Duke of Huntley stood between her and those letters she so desperately needed. She had to think
of him as the enemy. Not as a gentleman who made her heart race and her stomach churn with a painful excitement.

Giving an angry shake of her head, Leonida reached to open the gate, pausing as she heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps from behind her. Turning about, she expected to discover one of the innumerable servants or tenants. Unlike Russia’s vast expanses, the English countryside seemed to be crowded with people.

Strangely, however, there was no one to be seen. It was as if whoever was there had hastily ducked behind one of the numerous trees.

“Hello,” she called, decidedly unnerved by the sensation of being watched by unseen eyes. “Is anyone there? Hello.”

“Miss Leonida, whatever are you doing?”

With a squeak of alarm, Leonida whirled back to the gate, discovering her maid standing there with a frown on her round face.

Pressing a hand to her pounding heart, Leonida sucked in a steadying breath. “I was certain I heard someone following me.”

“The Duke?”

“I…” She shook her head, reaching to pull open the gate. She did not believe that Stefan would lower himself to sneaking behind her, but she did blame him for putting her so on edge that she was jumping at shadows. “It was probably just my imagination. My nerves are rather unsettled.”

“And no wonder.” Wrapping a protective arm around Leonida’s shoulders, Sophy led her toward the nearby house. “Your mother has no right to involve you in such foolishness.”

Leonida hastily glanced around the empty garden. “Shh, Sophy, you must take care.”

Sophy snorted. Leonida had been forced to reveal that her mother had sent her to England to discover a hidden object, but nothing more. It was not that she did not trust her maid, but the fewer who knew the better.

“Did you find what you were searching for?”

“No.” Leonida reached to pluck a pink rose from a nearby bush. “I shall have to return.”

“Not today, you will not,” Sophy muttered. “You look in need of a long nap.”

“I hoped you packed my headache powders.”

A sly smile curved Sophy’s lips. “No, but I did manage to get my hands on a bottle of vodka. The finest in your mother’s cellars.”

A
S USUAL
, S
TEFAN CHOSE TO WALK
the short distance to Hillside rather than calling for his carriage. Not that he was foolish enough to wander around on his own. His position as Duke offered some protection, but a desperate thief could put a hole through his heart as easily as if he were any other man.

Besides, his servants would be horrified if he walked through the dark alone. They expected him to behave in a manner befitting a duke, even when he felt as if he were being slowly strangled by the rigid custom.

Reaching the gardens of Hillside, Stefan commanded the two grooms to go to the kitchen to enjoy dinner and stepped through the gate. Once alone, he followed the torchlit path until a faint sound had him reaching into his pocket to grasp the pistol that was loaded and primed to fire.

A shadow loomed from behind a fountain, then Stefan’s tension relaxed as the flickering firelight revealed his brother’s familiar features.

Pulling his hand from his pocket, Stefan gave a lift of his brows. “Edmond. Were you laying in wait?”

Edmond shrugged, his gaze narrowing as it skimmed over Stefan’s tailored jacket in a dove gray that he had matched with a black waistcoat stitched with a gold thread. Stefan shifted, uncomfortable. He had no desire to explain why he had felt a sudden need to call for the local tailor.

“I did wish to speak with you before you entered,” Edmond admitted, a mysterious smile playing about his lips.

“Has something occurred?” Stefan’s brows snapped together. “Is it Brianna?”

Edmond held up a reassuring hand. “Everything is well, Stefan.”

“Then why did you wish to speak with me?”

“The King sent a messenger earlier to demand my appearance at Court.”

“Damn.” Stefan grimaced. George had been more demanding than ever of his loyal subjects since the death of his father. “What does he want on this occasion?”

His brother shrugged. “He claims that he desires to discuss the details of his approaching coronation.”

“And what is his true purpose?”

“I suspect he desires me to ensure that Queen Caroline comprehends that her presence at the ceremony is distinctly unwelcome.”

Predictable. After the farcical trial where the King failed to dissolve his marriage to the Queen, he had done everything in his power to humiliate her.

“Does he not have a dozen fawning sycophants to negotiate the royal domestic squabbles?”

Edmond shoved his fingers through his dark curls. A sure indication he was not as calm as he appeared.

“None with the least amount of diplomatic skills.”

“As if diplomacy has ever swayed the Queen from her outrageous behavior.”

“Yes, it is rather a pity she did not remain abroad,” Edmond muttered. “Still, I am not without pity for her. The marriage might have been less a tragedy if she had not been treated with such open contempt by her husband and those who surrounded him.”

That was true enough. The King had not only flaunted his mistress with utter disregard, but he had made no effort to disguise his disgust for his new bride.

“I agree, but there is no healing the wounds after all these years. She will go to any lengths to have her revenge.
And what could be more tempting than embarrassing the King during such a public spectacle?”

Edmond heaved a sigh. “I must at least make the attempt.”

“When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

Stefan blinked in surprise. “I have always known Brianna to be efficient, but surely not even she can prepare to undertake a journey so swiftly?”

Edmond’s features hardened. “Brianna will be remaining in Surrey.”

“Good lord. Have you told her?”

Edmond’s short laugh echoed through the shadowed garden. “She was not pleased to say the least, but she eventually had to concede that traveling any distance in a carriage is beyond her at the moment.”

Stefan’s concern was not eased. “I am happy to know she is being sensible, but do you truly think that she should be left alone here with Miss Karkoff?”

“
Mon Dieu
, Stefan, you do not believe the woman is here to harm my bride?” Edmond demanded in exasperated tones.

Stefan recalled his violent confusion of emotion when he had stepped into his library to discover Leonida. Suspicion, anger and a raw, relentless desire at the sight of her simple beauty that seemed to glow in the slanting sunlight.

“I have no notion why she is here, and that is what troubles me,” he muttered.

There was a pause before Edmond folded his arms across his chest.

“Then you will be pleased to discover that Leonida is as concerned for Brianna’s welfare as you are.”

“What do you mean?”

“She seems to believe you would make a suitable chaperone.”

“Me?”

“The implication was that Brianna, and Miss Karkoff of course, would stay at Meadowland until my return.”

Stefan stilled. “Miss Karkoff suggested that they stay at Meadowland?”

“Yes.”

“Now that is intriguing.”

“And not entirely unpalatable, eh, Stefan?”

Unpalatable? Stefan’s lips twisted. A wicked heat speared through his body at the mere thought of having Leonida so close at hand.

“It will be much easier to keep an eye upon her if she is under my roof.”

“And is your eye the only thing you desire to keep upon her?” Edmond drawled.

Stefan regarded his brother with a bland smile. “I cannot imagine what you are implying.”

“I have seen the manner in which you stare at Leonida.”

“And how is that?”

“Like I stare at Brianna.”

Stefan shook his head. No. Edmond was captivated with his bride beyond all reason. What Stefan felt for Leonida was an explosive combination of suspicion and smoldering lust.

“I will not deny she is a beautiful woman.”

“And you want her in your bed?”

He sucked in a sharp breath, easily imagining Leonida spread across his sheets, her alabaster skin drenched in moonlight and jasmine.

“My bed and the women who might warm it are not a subject I discuss with anyone,” he warned. “Including you, Edmond.”

Edmond chuckled. “I am just pleased to know that you are not entirely determined to live as a monk.”

Stefan arched a brow. There were several lovely widows in Surrey who would be shocked by the mere suggestion.

“Hardly a monk.”

“Why, you cunning fox. Who is she?”

“Shall I come in the morning to collect Brianna and Miss Karkoff?” Stefan firmly put an end to the conversation.

Edmond’s smile was taunting, but he willingly allowed himself to be diverted. “If you do not mind the intrusion?”

“On the contrary.” Stefan glanced toward the brightly lit Hillside where he could see the silhouette of a slender woman standing near the window. Leonida. “I have rarely looked forward to something with such anticipation.”

T
HE PRIVATE QUARTERS
of Meadowland proved to be as exquisite as the rest of the estate, if a bit shabby.

Left alone in her chambers, Leonida wandered through the small parlor decorated in soothing shades of ivory and gold, her hand lightly stroking over the back of a satinwood sofa before she headed into the matching bedroom. A canopied bed draped in cream satin was set in the center of a Persian rug and above the ceiling was painted a blue sky with tiny cherubs. Across the room, a large armoire was situated next to a bay window that overlooked the ornamental lake.

A lake.

So…her rooms must be set near the Duchess’s, she realized, unconsciously licking her dry lips. Yet another stroke of fortune.

Oddly, Leonida did not feel particularly fortunate.

She had spent last night tossing and turning after her impetuous suggestion that she and Brianna come to stay at Meadowland. This might be the perfect opportunity to discover the letters, but she was wise enough to sense that she was walking directly into a trap.

Unlike most aristocrats, the Duke of Huntley was no fool. If he allowed a woman he did not trust into his home, then it was only because he had his own devious plot in mind.

Leonida could only hope that she was clever enough to outwit him.

She shivered despite the heat in the room, then with a
tilt of her chin, she forced herself to thrust aside her cowardly thoughts and begin a thorough search of the armoire. It hardly seemed likely the letters would be hidden in a guest chamber, but she would leave no stone unturned.

Besides, she dare not seek the Duchess’s room until she could be certain she would not be seen.

Finding nothing in the armoire but the clothing that Sophy had unpacked just moments before, Leonida turned her attention to the mirrored dressing table, pulling the drawers open to discover a silver-backed mirror and matching brush as well as several expensive bottles of perfume. She had just tugged open the bottom drawer when a familiar tingle raced over her skin, warning her that she was no longer alone.

Slamming the drawer shut, she rose jerkily to her feet and turned to discover Stefan leaning against the doorjamb, his arms folded across her chest.

Despite the fact she had seen him less than an hour before, her heart gave its familiar jerk as she met his dazzling blue gaze.

He was so damnably gorgeous. Even attired in a plain green jacket and buckskins, his dark beauty was enough to steal the breath of any woman.