Rosemary Rogers - Bound By Love

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.”

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?”