Scandalous Deception (Russian Connection 1)

Reaching the elegant neighborhood of Mayfair, they had just turned a corner when Brianna was jerked out of her broodings. With a low exclamation, she pressed her nose to the window and craned her head to study the black coach they had just passed waiting in front of an elegant town house.

“Good heavens, that was the Huntley carriage,” she said, more puzzled than alarmed. “Edmond said that he was spending the afternoon at his club.”

Seated across from her, Janet clicked her tongue in obvious disapproval. “Fah. That ain’t no club, I can tell ye that much.”

“What do you mean?”

In a flutter of starched wool, Letty reached across Brianna to firmly tug the curtains over the small window, her profile uncommonly stern.

“Do you know, Brianna, I do not believe that was the Huntley carriage at all.”

Brianna frowned, a cold unease trickling down her spine. Both her companions were behaving in an extremely odd manner.

“Do you know who resides at that house, Janet?”

“Really, my dear, you are mistaken,” Letty insisted. “That was most certainly not the Huntley carriage.”

The older woman’s protest only deepened Brianna’s suspicions. There was something that Lady Aberlane did not want her to discover.

She cast her maid a demanding gaze. “Janet?”

Ignoring the loud sniff from Lady Aberlane, Janet leaned forward, her expression cynical.

“It belongs to La Russa.”

“La Russa?” Brianna settled back in her seat, a frown marring her brow. “The name is familiar.”

Janet snorted. “It should be. The woman is the most famous tart in all of London.”

“Janet, I believe that is quite enough,” Lady Aberlane interrupted, icily. “Tell me, Brianna, do you intend to wear the ivory satin this eve? It is so wonderfully flattering to your beautiful complexion.”

Brianna barely heard Letty’s breathless chatter as a raw, unexpected pain clutched at her heart.

“Oh, my God,” she breathed. “La Russa…she is that notorious opera singer. The one who was rumored to have refused an offer of protection from the Duke of Claredon.”

Letty reached to pat her arm in a futile gesture of comfort. “Well, my dear, who has not refused an offer of protection from the Duke?”

Brianna slowly shook her head. “Why would he visit the home of such a woman?”

“If ye ask me, there’s only one reason for a man to call upon that sort of woman,” Janet retorted.

“No one is asking you, Janet, and I must say that I find this all very unsavory,” Letty said, her tone sharp. “We should not be speculating on such things. It will only lead to trouble.”

Brianna clenched her hands in her lap, her mind struggling to accept the realization that Edmond had left her bed to go to the home of a notorious whore.

It was not so much the fact that Edmond was spending the afternoon with La Russa. What nobleman did not believe he possessed some divine right to have as many lovers as he desired? And Edmond had never made a secret of his insatiable lust for beautiful women. Dear heavens, she had known when she was just a child that he was a rake of the first order.

What disturbed her was the savage, unrelenting pain that was spreading from her heart to the pit of her stomach.

Dammit. She did not want to care what Edmond was doing. She did not want to shudder at the thought of him in the arms of the beautiful, experienced courtesan. She did not want to feel so sick with the sense of betrayal that her stomach threatened to revolt.

This was precisely why she would not allow herself to care for another. And certainly why she would never, ever allow herself to actually to depend on someone else.

Sucking in a deep breath, Brianna grimly forced herself to ignore the perilous emotions. She could not alter the fact that she had given her innocence to Edmond. And in truth, she was not certain she would if she could. For all the man’s faults, and there were a number of them, he was a magnificent lover.

What other gentleman could have taught her the endless pleasures to be discovered?

What she could do, however, was suppress the dangerous temptation to see him as anything other than a necessary annoyance that must be endured until she could claim the independence she had waited so long to achieve.