Scandalous Deception (Russian Connection 1)

While Stefan was prepared to hand her respect, wealth, position, a family to claim as her own.

Just how selfish a bastard had he become?

Reaching for the ormolu clock set on the mantle, Edmond tossed it against the wall, grimly watching as it exploded into a dozen pieces.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

THE EXPENSIVE HOTEL SUITE was comfortable enough. There was an elegant sitting room with solid English furnishings that had been covered in a cheerful paisley along with ruthlessly polished walnut tables. Next door was a large bedchamber that included a four-poster bed and French armoire, and connecting rooms for his servants.

Not that Edmond noticed. He had chosen the rooms because they were convenient to Piccadilly and because the back door led directly to an alley where he could slip in and out unnoted.

In truth, since he had arrived back in London three days ago, the rooms had seemed perilously close to a prison.

He had been unwilling to risk spooking Kazakov by being seen in Piccadilly, leaving his servants to keep an eye upon the traitor. Which meant that he had far too many hours to devote to pacing the floors and savagely regretting that rare moment of nobility that had led him to flee Meadowland in the midst of the night, leaving Brianna behind.

He was not a self-sacrificing, noble sort of man. He wanted what he wanted.

The sound of the door to his sitting room opening was a welcome distraction. Edmond turned to watch Boris enter the chamber and cross to pour himself a measure of the whiskey kept on a side table.

“Well?”

“You were right, of course. Kazakov just returned from booking passage on a ship bound for the West Indies.”

“And?”

“And on the same day, he is booked on a ship bound for the North Sea under the name of Ivor Spatrov.” Boris lifted his glass in a silent toast before draining the potent spirits. “Just as you said he would be.”

Edmond shrugged. It was a common enough diversion. One he had used himself on several occasions. “When does the ship sail?”

“Thursday.”

Edmond ignored the heavy emptiness that was lodged in the pit of his stomach. Mon dieu. This was precisely what he had been waiting for. He would soon be back in Russia, and once the threat to the Czar was ended, he could continue with the life he had worked so hard to build.

“I presume we have passage booked as well?”

“Of course. You are Mr. Richard Parrish, an importer of Russian furs. I thought you would prefer to travel as a wealthy merchant, rather than among the unwashed masses.”

“Wise decision.” Although he would have to travel in disguise, he preferred to have a decent cabin to endure the weeks of travel onboard the ship. “Viktor has still not attempted to send a message to his contact in Russia?”

“None that I have managed to discover.” Boris set aside his empty glass. “I must be overlooking something.”

Edmond shrugged, well aware that his companion was doing everything possible to keep track of Viktor Kazakov’s nefarious activities.

“I have every faith in your abilities, Boris.”

“Then what troubles you?” Boris demanded. “Your brother is safe, and soon we shall be back in Russia where we will be toasted as heroes for having halted a devious plot to overthrow the Czar.”

“We have not halted it yet.”

“We will.”

Edmond could hardly argue with his confidence. Not without implying he doubted those who had dedicated their lives to protecting Alexander Pavlovich.

“Yes.”

“So why then…”

The unwelcome probing was interrupted as there was a sharp rap on the door. The two men shared a brief glance before Boris was sliding to stand behind the door, in position to hit the intruder from behind the