Rosemary Rogers - Bound By Love

“So, your guest has arrived?” he murmured.

Edmond’s lips twitched; no doubt he easily sensed Stefan’s looming lecture.

“She has.”

Stefan tossed aside any notion of subtlety. It had never been his talent.

“I cannot comprehend why you allow yourself to be taken advantage of by Alexander Pavlovich,” he growled, stepping around a pile of branches that had been cut from the now tidy hedge. “You are not one of his advisors.”

“I have never been an advisor to King George either, but that does not halt him from taking advantage,” Edmond pointed out. “Of either of us.”

Stefan ignored the reminder of King George’s incessant demands. Instead he concentrated on the two women currently entering the garden from the rambling Palladianstyle home.

Brianna was easily recognizable by her vibrant red hair and her swift, rather unladylike stride. In many ways she was as impulsive and reckless as Edmond.

A familiar, fond warmth filled his heart before Stefan was turning his attention to the tiny woman struggling to keep pace with Lady Summerville.

“Is that her?” he demanded.

“Yes. Miss Leonida Karkoff.”

In that moment the woman turned her head and Stefan stumbled to a startled halt.

It was not the female’s beauty.

Well, at least not entirely.

She was lovely. Hair as golden as a morning sunrise, alabaster skin, and a slender form that was currently shown to advantage by her moss-green walking dress that was modestly scooped at the bodice with tiny puff sleeves.

No, it was the unmistakable line of her profile and the potently sweet curve of her lips.

He would bet his last quid her eyes were the color of a summer sky.

“Good God.”

Edmond chuckled. “Lovely, is she not?”

“Lovely, and remarkably familiar.”

“Yes. There is no mistaking her father,” Edmond agreed. “A pity he was already wed to Elizabeth before meeting Leonida’s mother. Nadia would have made a formidable czarina who might have given Alexander Pavlovich the courage he needed to defy the nobles and insist upon the reforms he desired when he was still young.”

“His grandmother would never have allowed him to wed a provincial chit with nothing but beauty and sheer cunning to recommend her.”

Edmond flashed him a wry glance. “Never underestimate a determined woman.”

“Which is why I prefer a more timid female,” Stefan smoothly countered. “Life is much more peaceful.”

Edmond grimaced. “Tedious.”

Stefan returned his attention to the approaching women. “How long does Miss Karkoff intend to linger?”

“She has not revealed her plans.”

No, he did not imagine she had. Or was likely to.

“It hardly makes sense for the Emperor to send her to this remote part of Surrey if he desired her to mix among English society.”

“The London season is at an end.” Edmond’s expression was suddenly sly. “Besides, why toss the lovely Leonida among a crowd of other lovely ladies when she could be the only eligible female within miles of an unwed duke?”

“You think…” Stefan shook his head, not about to fall for such an obvious ploy. “No. Not even Alexander Pavlovich is so lacking in finesse as to blatantly dangle his daughter beneath my nose.”

“Perhaps not, but her mother would.”

“No.”

Edmond arched a raven brow. “Why are you so certain?”

“I am not so isolated that I haven’t heard the usual gossip that trickles from London. From all accounts, the Countess Karkoff has her heart set on nothing less than a prince for her daughter.”

Edmond shrugged. “A wealthy English duke would surely trump a destitute prince from a principality that is little more than a spot on the map.”

“Not if that principality possessed soldiers that Alexander Pavlovich could count loyal to his throne,” Stefan retorted. “I have many things, but no army to lend aid.”

“No, but you do have the ear of the English king. A most powerful ally.”

“A king that has peevishly proclaimed his disapproval toward the Czar.”

Edmond chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. He, better than anyone, understood Stefan’s abhorrence at the thought of being wed for his title.

“Maybe this is Alexander Pavlovich’s attempt to make peace.”

“Then the wench should be in London,” Stefan growled. “I do not doubt she could easily wrap the King about her finger.”

Edmond narrowed his gaze. “Why are you so suspicious of the poor chit?”

“I have not forgotten the last occasion you became involved in Russian affairs.” Stefan frowned. “Both you and Brianna were nearly killed.”

“Hardly Alexander Pavlovich’s fault.”

Stefan could not argue. It had been yet another plot to overthrow the Czar, but of course, it had been Edmond who was tossed directly in the middle of danger.

“Perhaps not, but he is never hesitant to put you at risk for his own cause. I do not wish to see you once again entangled.”

Edmond tossed an arm around his shoulders. “Do not worry, Stefan. Much to my surprise, Leonida is not only charming, but utterly lacking her mother’s ambition and her father’s Machiavellian plotting.”

“Hmm.” Stefan was not so easily convinced, but it was obvious Edmond was not prepared to heed his warnings. It would have to be Stefan’s duty to keep a careful watch on the unwelcomed guest. “Does she at least realize that she is intruding into the privacy of newly weds?”

A wicked humor twinkled in Edmond’s eyes. “You are surely familiar enough with me, Stefan, to know that when I desire to spend time alone with my exquisite wife I allow nothing and no one to stand in my way.”

“True enough,” Stefan was forced to concede. “I cannot recall how many dinners I have attended at Hillside only to find myself shown to the door before I could even finish my port.”

“Someday, my dear brother, you will understand.”

“I believe one Huntley blinded by the agonizing throes of love is quite enough.” His tone was flippant, disguising the dull ache of loneliness that had plagued him over the past year. That was a secret he intended to keep to himself. “Think of our reputation.”

“Should I think of my reputation as a frivolous rake or your reputation as a dull farmer who pays more heed to his cows than to society?” Edmond teased.

“Surely not dull?” Stefan protested. “I have always thought I possessed a small measure of wit.”

“A very large measure of wit. Unfortunately it is rarely on display outside Meadowland. I fear you may become as moldy as your books.”

Stefan pulled away from his brother’s arm, discomfited by the turn of the conversation. He would stab a dagger in his heart before he would allow Edmond to realize just how jealous he was of the happiness he had discovered.

No one deserved it more than Edmond.

“My books are not moldy, and neither am I.”

Edmond’s gaze was searching, perhaps sensing his brother’s unease. “It would not hurt you to practice your social skills.”

“Ah, I begin to understand your devious plot.” Stefan deliberately turned the conversation from himself. “You wish me to keep Miss Karkoff distracted so you can spend more time alone with your bride.”

“My only thought is for you, dearest Stefan.”

Laughing at his brother’s pious tone, Stefan abruptly realized they were no longer alone. A curious tingle inched down his spine as he turned to smile into Brianna’s astonishing green eyes, only grudgingly turning his attention to the woman at her side.

Without warning his breath was wrenched from his lungs as he encountered the clear blue gaze that shimmered with a guileless innocence.

Christ. It was no wonder Alexander Pavlovich had sent this female to do his bidding. Leonida Karkoff was every man’s fantasy. Sweet, untouched purity combined with a golden beauty that stirred a primitive need to sweep her off her feet. Who would not be dazzled by such a vision?