Bound by Love (4 page)

“I am confused, your Grace.”

“And why is that?”

She turned her head to stab him with a penetrating stare. “I understood that your brother was the practiced flirt while you preferred substance to charm.”

“I seem to be referred to as a stodgy bore with depressing frequency of late. I never realized I was so dull.”

“Substance is not dull.”

His brow lifted at her vehement tone. “No?”

“Quite the opposite.” She pinned the stiff smile back on her lips. “Lady Summerville mentioned that you possess the finest library in Surrey.”

“You are interested in books?”

“Far more than my mother approves of, I fear. If I were allowed to have my way, I would spend my evenings curled before a warm fire with a good book rather than attending the seemingly endless gatherings Russian society adores.”

His heart missed a beat. She preferred books to society? No. It had to be a lie. Just a part of the act she performed so well.

“An unusual preference for a young lady.”

“I disagree.”

“Do you?”

“It is more that young ladies are rarely asked what their preference might be.”

His eyes narrowed. Beautiful and clever. Dangerous.

“Touché,” he murmured.

“Forgive me.” She coyly lowered her head. “I am inclined to speak my mind too frankly.”

“There is nothing to forgive. I prefer
honesty
.” He deliberately emphasized the word. “And to prove my own sincerity I offer you an open invitation to make use of my library during your stay.”

She stumbled, a faint blush touching her cheeks. “That is very kind, your Grace, thank you.”

A rather odd reaction to his offhand invitation. “Not kind, merely sympathetic. For all your claims to enjoy the quiet it cannot be particularly inspiring to have only my brother and Brianna as company. I have spent enough time with the newlyweds to know they have a tendency to forget there is anyone else in the room when they are together. You at least should have some means of wiling away the hours.”

“They are very devoted to one another.”

“Besotted.”

Coming to a halt, Stefan turned to discover that Edmond and Brianna were standing near a crumbling fountain. They made a perfect vision of marital bliss, with Brianna’s head nestled against Edmond’s shoulder while his hand stroked tenderly down her back. Stefan, however, did not miss the concerned expression on his brother’s face.

“I find myself quite envious,” Miss Karkoff murmured. “It is not often a woman is allowed to wed for love.”

“And even less often for a gentleman.”

“Truly?”

His shifted his attention to catch her disbelieving expression. “Why are you surprised?”

“I would think that a gentleman with your wealth and position could wed any woman of his choosing.”

“You have lived among the most powerful families in St. Petersburg, Miss Karkoff, you comprehend how treacherous a courtship can be.”

“Treacherous?”

He shrugged. “Accept one invitation to a ball while declining another and you offend half the members of the House of Lords. Speak with one maiden for a moment longer than another and the room buzzes with rumors. And God forbid I request a few friends to Meadowland without including every unwed sister, cousin or passing acquaintance they might possess. To actually propose marriage…”

“Yes, it would no doubt cause another War of the Roses,” she said, her voice so smooth it would be easy to miss the mockery. “Very wise to remain unwed and allow each ambitious papa and title-hungry mama to continue dreaming they might capture you for their daughter.”

His smile became genuine. Despite his suspicions, he appreciated quick wits and a refusal to bore him with insincere flattery.

“My thought precisely.”

“No doubt that is why you prefer to avoid society?”

Ah, obviously Brianna had been sharing her annoyance
with his refusal to accept the endless invitations that arrived each morning.

“One of many reasons.” He paused. “Ah, but perhaps I should keep my less than favorable opinion of society to myself.”

“Why?”

“That is why you have come to England, is it not? To be introduced into English society?”

“I…my mother thought it might be beneficial.”

“But not you?”

“I am here, am I not?” she said, her light tone belied by the stoic set of her expression.

Odd. Had she been compelled to England against her will? Not that it truly mattered. If she intended to involve Edmond in one of the Emperor’s schemes then Stefan intended to have her run out of Surrey.

“So you are. Rather surprising.”

“What is surprising?”

“There are numerous Russian diplomats in London. I would think your mother would prefer for you to be launched into society by a more formal introduction.”

This time she was prepared. Her smile never faltered as she met his gaze squarely.

“My mother is stubborn, but she is no fool. I, alas, did not inherit her ability to be at ease among strangers. She no doubt hopes that by sending me to Lord and Lady Summerville I can make a few acquaintances without causing too much embarrassment.”

“Hmm.”

She arched a golden brow. “Yes?”

“I was just thinking it was rather a stroke of fortune that Edmond decided to wed at such an opportune moment. Otherwise your visit might never have occurred.”

Her magnificent eyes flashed with annoyance at his pointed words. Ridiculously, Stefan found himself pleased to have provoked her first genuine emotion.

“There is no need for you to point out that my visit is…awkward considering that Lord and Lady Summerville have only been wed a few weeks,” she said tartly.

“I am certain you are quite welcome, Miss Karkoff.”

“Are you?”

“Of course.”

Her lips thinned. “I did attempt to convince Mother that it was not entirely appropriate to thrust myself upon his lordship, but she was insistent.”

“And do you always do what your mother commands?”

She turned to regard a nearby rosebush, the sunlight outlining the pure lines of her profile.

“Not always, but family loyalty is a strange and powerful thing, your Grace. Even for a woman who considers herself a sane, rational being.”

He frowned, struck by her low words. Was she confessing that she had been sent by the Emperor?

“Family loyalty?”

“Ah, there you are,” Edmond intruded, stepping next to Stefan with a mysterious smile. “I have convinced Brianna to return to the house, and I am certain she would appreciate your company, Leonida.”

“Of course.” There was no mistaking Miss Karkoff’s relief to be away from Stefan as she offered a hasty dip. “Your Grace.”

“Miss Karkoff.”

Barely waiting for his nod, she spun on her heel and hurried toward the house.

Stefan watched her progress in silence, still churning with a strange mixture of emotions.

Anger, suspicion and, over all, a potent fascination.

Who the devil was Miss Leonida Karkoff?

And why was he suddenly missing the sweet scent of jasmine?

“Could you not even make an effort to charm the poor female?” Edmond drawled.

“I do not trust her,” he retorted, not adding he was also unwillingly captivated by the clever minx. “I think she was deliberately sent here by the Emperor for his own devious purpose.”

“Even if she was, I am quite capable of protecting what is mine.” Edmond’s voice held a hard edge of warning. “For all of Alexander Pavlovich’s faults, he is wise enough to realize what would happen if Brianna was harmed.”

“But do you have the sense to protect yourself?”

Edmond shrugged. “I am learning.”

Stefan smiled, folding his arms across his chest. “So, do you intend to share your announcement?”

“What announcement?”

“I may be dull and unsociable, but I am capable of noticing that you are even more overprotective of your bride than usual.”

Edmond’s eyes widened in surprise. “
Mon Dieu
. I forget that behind your pretense of being a staid farmer you are far more perceptive than any person I have ever known. Nothing gets past your notice, does it?”

“Very little.”

Edmond snorted, shaking his head. “You are fortunate that neither the King nor Alexander Pavlovich know of your talent. They would never allow you to leave their side.”

“And you are very accomplished at evading an answer,” Stefan retorted.

Edmond grimaced, allowing his deep concern to shimmer in his eyes. “We suspect that Brianna might be increasing but it is very early days yet. We cannot be certain.”

Stefan understood his brother’s unease. Brianna had thought she was increasing once before only to lose the child. It would be hellish to endure yet another loss.

Still, she was young and healthy. It seemed reasonable she would be able to bear her child.

He reached out to clap his brother on the shoulder. “You have my deepest congratulations, brother.”

Edmond nodded, but his gaze was searching. “Do I?”

It took a moment for Stefan to realize his brother was referring to Stefan’s proposal to Brianna months ago.

At the time he had been moved by the knowledge he had failed his childhood friend and that he could make amends by protecting her future. There had also been the comfort of familiarity.

Now he could only be relieved that she had possessed the sense to choose Edmond.

“Never think otherwise,” he assured his brother. “You and Brianna were destined for one another. Besides, I can now hope that any need to wed and produce the proper heir has been removed. Just ensure Brianna has a boy.”

“Matters are out of my hands, I fear.” Edmond’s concern eased and he smiled with wicked amusement. “And besides, you would be a fool to become overly comfortable in your role as bachelor.”

Stefan arched a brow. “And why is that?”

Edmond laughed. “I highly doubt that I am the only one destined to tumble into the clutches of a woman. It is only a matter of time, dear brother.”

I
T TOOK THREE DAYS FOR
L
EONIDA
to acquire the nerve necessary to walk the mile from Hillside to Meadowland.

Stupid, really. She had discovered from Brianna the first day she arrived in Surrey that the Duke of Huntley made a habit of spending his afternoons assisting his tenants and inspecting his vast lands. There had truly been no reason to hesitate so long.

After all, the quicker she found the damnable letters, the quicker she could return to Russia.

She told herself that her reluctance was nothing more than revulsion. She was no prude (how could she be with Nadia as her mother?), but she did draw the line at behaving like a common thief.

Deep inside, however, she knew it was not just her moral outrage that kept her from the inevitable.

No, it had far more to do with her reaction to the Duke of Huntley.

Odd how her entire body had seemed to tingle with excitement the moment he had glanced in her direction. He was stunningly beautiful, of course. But so was his brother and she had felt nothing but gratitude toward Lord Summerville. Well, gratitude and a horrid guilt.

Certainly her heart did not race and her knees feel weak whenever he happened to be near. Nor did she have the unpleasant sensation that his penetrating gaze could see through her flimsy excuses to lay bare her true reason for being in Surrey.

At last she could delay her duty no longer.

Waiting until Brianna had excused herself to rest after luncheon, Leonida quietly slipped through a side door and meandered aimlessly through the gardens. Only when she was certain she could no longer be seen from the house did she slip through the nearest gate and head across the open meadows.

Away from the house she allowed her steps to slow, enjoying the warmth of the sunlight that had made an appearance after the damp morning. Her nurse had told her fascinating stories of England, speaking of her own childhood in a small village in Derbyshire and the lovely countryside. But it was even more charming than Leonida had expected.

It was all so very…green.

Avoiding the various cottages, Leonida entered the thick woods rather than crossing the open fields. Although she did not intend to sneak into Meadowland, she preferred not to have word of her arrival spread throughout the neighborhood. The last thing she needed was the Duke of Huntley rushing home early.

Careful to follow the path, it was not long before she stepped from the trees, her eyes widening as she caught her first sight of Meadowland.

It was not nearly so vast or grand as the palaces in Russia, and even from a distance there was a hint of scruffiness, like a well-worn slipper, but Leonida discovered herself drawn to the rambling mansion.

There was a comforting timelessness to the sturdy stone structure, she decided. With its massive bays, sash windows and carved stone balustrade, it appeared as if it had sprung naturally from the surrounding parklands rather than having been thrust there by man.

She allowed herself a brief moment of silent appreciation before forcing her reluctant feet back into motion. It would be far too easy to give in to the panic fluttering in the back of her mind and flee back to Hillside.

You will not be a coward, Leonida Karkoff
.

Pretending a confidence she was far from feeling, she followed the winding, tree-lined path that led past the ivy-covered tower gate and, at last, climbed the shallow steps. Not surprisingly one of the double oak doors was pulled open as she crossed the wide terrace. The Duke of Huntley struck her as a gentleman who would inspire complete loyalty among his staff.

Her courage briefly wavered beneath the formidable glare of the thin butler attired in a black-and-gold uniform. The elderly servant made no effort to disguise his dislike at her intrusion, but obviously having been warned by his employer that Leonida had been issued an invitation, he grudgingly led her through the marble foyer that offered a view of the impressive staircase and down a wainscot-paneled hallway to the library.

Opening the door with a bow, the butler disappeared into the bowels of the house, leaving Leonida alone to enter the vast room.

She breathed a sigh of pleasure at the towering shelves soaring two floors toward a ceiling painted with a stunning panorama of the local landscape. Along one wall was a bank of towering windows that overlooked a pretty deer park filled with trees and wildflowers. And at the end was a massive marble fireplace with two wing chairs and a narrow pier table situated before it.

Eventually, her gaze shifted to the heavy walnut desk and matching chair near the windows.

She briefly wavered. Did she dare try to sneak up and search for the Duchess’s private rooms, or did she begin here?

In the end cowardice won the day. The mere thought of trying to slip past an army of servants to intrude into a dead woman’s privacy made her stomach twist with dread.

Besides, it was entirely possible that the Duchess of Huntley used this beautiful room to write her correspondence.

Her decision made, she crossed to the desk and, bending down, she jerked open one of the upper drawers. She grimaced at the sight of the deep pile of papers, realizing this might take more time than she had first assumed.

Dividing her attention between the papers and the door leading to the hallway, she reached the last drawer when the unmistakable sound of footsteps had her slamming it shut and racing toward the nearest shelf, her heart in her throat.

She was blindly studying the leather-bound books when someone entered the room. With a pretense of indifference, she glanced to the side, fully expecting the grim butler to request she take her leave. Instead it was the Duke who stepped over the threshold, his expression hard as he studied her with an unnerving intensity.

Leonida froze. Good lord, he was beautiful. Disturbingly beautiful with his dark, perfectly chiseled features and his muscular body shown to advantage in his blue coat and buckskins.

At the moment his raven curls were tumbled from the wind and his cravat loosened to reveal the strong column of his throat, a testament to his hours in the fields, but his casual appearance only added to his potent attraction.

But it was the relentless intelligence in his dark blue eyes that sent a chill down her spine.

This man was no fool and she sensed he already had suspicions of her arrival in Surrey.

Dangerous.

The silence lasted for several painful heartbeats, then with a smile that did not meet his eyes, he was smoothly moving forward to take her hand and lift it to his lips.

“Miss Karkoff,” he murmured. “My butler informed me I would find you here.”

She tugged her hand from his grasp, unsettled by the tingles of pleasure that raced up her arm.

“I…” She halted to clear the husky fear from her voice. “I did not expect you.”

He arched a brow. “No?”

“Lady Summerville mentioned you spent most afternoons in your fields.”

Something flashed through his eyes. Curiosity? Suspicion? “As a rule, although I do occasionally spend time with my accounts.”

So much for trusting in luck. She would not make that mistake again.

“I hope you do not mind my intrusion, your Grace?”

“Of course not.” He casually leaned a shoulder against the sturdy shelf, his powerful presence filling the room as his gaze slid blatantly over her sprigged muslin gown with tiny satin roses sewn along the scooped bodice. At last he returned his attention to the blush staining her cheeks. “I did invite you to make use of the library. Have you not discovered anything of interest?”

She managed a meaningless smile. She had not spent years among the treacherous Russian society without developing some skill in dissembling.

“I was indulging in my love for browsing. Your collection is quite magnificent.”

“In all fairness I must confess that I inherited a large portion of the collection from my various ancestors, although I do occasionally add a few books.”

She glanced to the wrapped packages sitting on the scrolled satinwood table near the door. She would bet her favorite pearl necklace they held newly arrived books.

“How occasionally?”

“Perhaps
occasionally
is not quite the proper word,” he conceded, a heart-melting twinkle entering his eyes.

Her stomach quivered. She was too aware of his potent appeal.

“I did not mean to disturb you. I will return…”

Without warning, he reached out to grasp her arm and steered her toward the wing chairs.

“Please have a seat, Miss Karkoff. I have requested that
Mrs. Slater bring us tea. I believe you will find her seedcake to be the finest in England.”

She briefly debated the odds of making it to the door before he could catch her, only to swiftly dismiss the ludicrous thought.

She had been well and truly cornered, and there was nothing to do but brave it out.

She sank gracefully into one of the chairs and folded her hands in her lap, hoping the penetrating blue eyes did not notice they were shaking.

“Thank you.”

Taking his own seat, the Duke stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankle and putting at risk the fine gloss on his Hessians.

“Tell me what you have seen of the house.”

She stiffened. Seen of the house?
Mon Dieu
. Did he suspect she had come to search Meadowland?

“I beg your pardon?”

“I thought perhaps Goodson had given you a tour. He is inordinately proud of the rambling old place and inclined to haul unsuspecting guests from room to room regardless of their boredom.”

“No.” She breathed a silent sigh of relief. “Of course, I did have the opportunity to admire the front foyer and your very fine marble staircase. I can readily understand your butler’s pride.”

“Edmond claims that it shall soon be a shabby ruin if I do not devote myself to renovations.”

“It is hardly a ruin,” she protested, faintly smiling at the lift of his brows. “Although it might be a tiny bit frayed,” she conceded. “Still, it is perfectly understandable you would be reluctant to have the house altered in any way.”

“And why do you believe me to be reluctant?”

“As I recall, you lost your parents at a very young age. It is only to be expected you would cherish their memory, especially within your home.”

He sucked in a sharp breath, as if startled by her words. Strange. From all her discreet inquiries regarding the Duke of Huntley it seemed perfectly obvious to her that he still mourned his parents. Did he believe he kept his pain hidden?

Whatever he might say, however, was halted as the door was opened and a young maid entered carrying a large tray.

“Ah, tea,” he murmured, waving the maid to place the tray on the table set beside Leonida’s chair.

Completing her task, the pretty maid with a mass of brown curls and big brown eyes dipped a curtsy.

“Is there anything else you need, your Grace?”

The Duke’s gaze never wavered from Leonida. “That will be all, Maggie. Thank you.”

The maid left and closed the door behind her.

“If you will pour, Miss Karkoff?” he requested as the maid scurried from the room.

“Certainly.” She reached to arrange the fine Wedgewood china. “Sugar?”

“Just milk.”

Happy to have something to distract herself from his unwavering gaze, Leonida poured the tea and filled two plates with the tiny sandwiches and seedcake.

Unfortunately, he merely set aside the refreshments, continuing to study her as if she were a weed that had dared to stray into his well-tended field.

Sipping her tea, Leonida attempted to appear impervious to his rude stare, allowing her own gaze to travel over the nearby fireplace to the large portrait hung over the mantle.

“Is that a portrait of your parents?”

“Yes, it was done shortly after their marriage.”

She studied the couple, not surprised that the previous Duke was a tall gentleman with dark hair and an air of power visible in the strokes of his handsome face, while the Duchess was a small, slender beauty with the brilliant blue eyes she had blessed on her two sons.

“The Duchess is just as lovely as my mother said she was,” she murmured. “They were dearest friends, you know.”

“So I have heard.”

She sipped her tea, quashing her fierce desire to flee and instead stiffened her backbone. For goodness’ sakes. This was the perfect opportunity to discover the information she needed. Why was she hesitating?

“I am not certain that my mother ever forgave the Duke for stealing away her beloved Mira,” she said, forcing herself to meet that shrewd blue gaze. “Indeed, she confessed her only comfort was writing endless correspondence to the Duchess.”

“She was not alone. As I recall my mother devoted several hours each morning to answering the letters she received.”

“Well, this is a beautiful room for such a task.”

His eyes narrowed. “Actually my mother preferred the private parlor that connected to her bedchamber. It is situated to catch the morning sunlight and she had a perfect view of the lake, which she always loved.”