“And is your eye the only thing you desire to keep upon her?” Edmond drawled.
Stefan regarded his brother with a bland smile. “I cannot imagine what you are implying.”
“I have seen the manner in which you stare at Leonida.”
“And how is that?”
“Like I stare at Brianna.”
Stefan shook his head. No. Edmond was captivated with his bride beyond all reason. What Stefan felt for Leonida was an explosive combination of suspicion and smoldering lust.
“I will not deny she is a beautiful woman.”
“And you want her in your bed?”
He sucked in a sharp breath, easily imagining Leonida spread across his sheets, her alabaster skin drenched in moonlight and jasmine.
“My bed and the women who might warm it are not a subject I discuss with anyone,” he warned. “Including you, Edmond.”
Edmond chuckled. “I am just pleased to know that you are not entirely determined to live as a monk.”
Stefan arched a brow. There were several lovely widows in Surrey who would be shocked by the mere suggestion.
“Hardly a monk.”
“Why, you cunning fox. Who is she?”
“Shall I come in the morning to collect Brianna and Miss Karkoff?” Stefan firmly put an end to the conversation.
Edmond’s smile was taunting, but he willingly allowed himself to be diverted. “If you do not mind the intrusion?”
“On the contrary.” Stefan glanced toward the brightly lit Hillside where he could see the silhouette of a slender woman standing near the window. Leonida. “I have rarely looked forward to something with such anticipation.”
THE PRIVATE QUARTERS of Meadowland proved to be as exquisite as the rest of the estate, if a bit shabby.
Left alone in her chambers, Leonida wandered through the small parlor decorated in soothing shades of ivory and gold, her hand lightly stroking over the back of a satinwood sofa before she headed into the matching bedroom. A canopied bed draped in cream satin was set in the center of a Persian rug and above the ceiling was painted a blue sky with tiny cherubs. Across the room, a large armoire was situated next to a bay window that overlooked the ornamental lake.
A lake.
So…her rooms must be set near the Duchess’s, she realized, unconsciously licking her dry lips. Yet another stroke of fortune.
Oddly, Leonida did not feel particularly fortunate.
She had spent last night tossing and turning after her impetuous suggestion that she and Brianna come to stay at Meadowland. This might be the perfect opportunity to discover the letters, but she was wise enough to sense that she was walking directly into a trap.
Unlike most aristocrats, the Duke of Huntley was no fool. If he allowed a woman he did not trust into his home, then it was only because he had his own devious plot in mind.
Leonida could only hope that she was clever enough to outwit him.
She shivered despite the heat in the room, then with a tilt of her chin, she forced herself to thrust aside her cowardly thoughts and begin a thorough search of the armoire. It hardly seemed likely the letters would be hidden in a guest chamber, but she would leave no stone unturned.
Besides, she dare not seek the Duchess’s room until she could be certain she would not be seen.
Finding nothing in the armoire but the clothing that Sophy had unpacked just moments before, Leonida turned her attention to the mirrored dressing table, pulling the drawers open to discover a silver-backed mirror and matching brush as well as several expensive bottles of perfume. She had just tugged open the bottom drawer when a familiar tingle raced over her skin, warning her that she was no longer alone.
Slamming the drawer shut, she rose jerkily to her feet and turned to discover Stefan leaning against the doorjamb, his arms folded across her chest.
Despite the fact she had seen him less than an hour before, her heart gave its familiar jerk as she met his dazzling blue gaze.