Bound by Love (Russian Connection 2)

“Damn,” he muttered, heading toward the door. “What is it, Maggie?”

Leonida pressed a hand to her thundering heart as she heard the maid respond.

“Mr. Riddle sent word that the workers have arrived to repair the bridge in the south paddock. They were told not to start without you.”

“Thank you. I will be along in a moment.” There was the sound of retreating footsteps, and grasping the doorframe Stefan lowered his head, dragging in deep breaths. Several moments passed before he at last turned to regard her with a sardonic expression. “It appears that duty calls. I will inform Goodson not to hold dinner for me.” His gaze lowered to her lips, still swollen from his kiss. “Try to stay out of mischief, my dove.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

LEFT ALONE IN THE CHILDREN’S folly, Leonida moved to the window overlooking the lake.

A part of her understood she should be returning to Meadowland to continue her search while Stefan was occupied with his bridge, but another part was still reeling from the unexpected surge of desire.

She needed a few moments to collect her scattered wits before returning to her task. And besides, she was not at all certain her wobbly legs could carry her.

Watching the swans glide across the water, Leonida’s heart stuttered as the soft sound of footsteps broke the silence. Slowly turning, she watched the shadow fall across the open doorway.

“Stefan…”

She bit off her words, an uneasy alarm coiling inside her as a large man with a brutish face and small, dark eyes as hard as agates stepped over the threshold. Instinctively, she pressed against the wall, noting the rough linen shirt and wool trousers.

Was he a servant at Meadowland? Hardly likely. She had encountered most of the staff over the past few days and would surely recognize him.

Nor could he be a local tenant. None would dare to regard a guest of the Duke of Huntley with such vulgar interest.

Hiding a shiver, she desperately calculated the odds of shoving her way past his hulking form and reaching the door.

As if sensing her thoughts, the stranger prowled toward her, a mocking smile on his lips.

“Miss Karkoff,” he said, his voice thick with an accent that sent a chill down her spine. Russian. And no henchman of her mother, of that she was absolutely certain. “I have been waiting for an opportunity to speak with you alone.”

“Who are you?”

“Let us just say that a mutual acquaintance sent me.”

Gathering her composure, Leonida forced herself to flick a dismissive glance over his shabby clothing.

She was effectively trapped. What choice did she have but to try and brazen her way out of danger?

“I doubt we have any mutual friends.”

An ugly smile twisted his lips. “You think you are better than me?” he taunted. “You might have money and fancy clothes, but you are a common bastard. Just like me.”

“I have only to scream and a dozen servants will come running. Do you wish to face the English gallows?”

“Oh, you will not scream.”

“How can you be so certain?”

“Because you will have to confess to your lover the true reason you have come to England.”

She struggled to maintain her disdainful expression even as panic curled through her stomach. He had to be connected to Nikolas Babevich. How else would he know her purpose in coming to Surrey?

But why had he followed her to England? And, more importantly, what did he intend to do to her?

“I am here to visit Lord and Lady Summerville,” she said, her tone stiff.

“Nothing so pretty. You have come to steal the letters.”