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.”