Bound by Love (Russian Connection 2)

Herrick swiftly considered. It would be simple enough to have the intruder sent away. His staff was a collection of trained soldiers who were eager to protect their commander. On the other hand, the woman might have a genuine purpose in seeking him out.

“Where have you put her?”

“In the breakfast room. I hope I did not do wrong?”

“Not at all.” Herrick offered a reassuring smile to the young man. “I will be down in a moment. Please ensure we are not interrupted.”

“Yes, sir.”

Forgetting himself, the servant offered a salute rather than a bow and scurried away. Herrick chuckled as he reached to pluck a loaded pistol from the dresser, sliding it into the holster beneath his jacket as he made his way to the breakfast room at the back of the house.

Entering the brightly lit room with a pretty cherrywood table and chairs that matched the sturdy sideboard, Herrick studied the slender woman standing beside the French doors.

As his footman warned, the woman was heavily veiled and attired in a black French silk gown that was stylish enough to have cost a small fortune.

So, a woman of society.

Interesting.

Sensing his arrival, the stranger abruptly turned, a slender hand clutching a folded piece of parchment.

“At last,” she breathed.

Herrick strolled slowly forward. “Forgive me for keeping you waiting, but I must admit I did not expect a strange woman to be served with my breakfast.”

“Not so strange,” the woman muttered, impatiently sweeping back the veil to reveal a pale, beautiful face that was framed with glossy black hair only a few shades darker than the wide eyes.

“Nadia.” Herrick stiffened in shock. “Have you taken leave of your senses?”

“I had to see you at once.”

“You should have sent a message. If it is discovered you were here we will both be answering to the Emperor.”

She waved a dismissive hand, as always indifferent to the rigid rules that guided most women of society.

“No one will know and I could not wait.”

Dismissing the futile urge to shake some sense into the reckless woman, Herrick instead studied the barely controlled panic that smoldered in the dark eyes.

“What has happened?”

“Here.”

Without a word, she shoved the sheet of parchment into his hand. A chill of premonition pricked Herrick’s heart before he even read the demand for a hundred thousand rubles in return for Leonida Karkoff.

“How did you receive this?” he asked, his voice harsh with dread.

“It was on my dresser when I awoke this morning.”

The bastard had dared enter the home of a countess?

“Did you question your staff?”

“Of course I did,” she snapped, wrapping her arms around her waist as violent shivers shook her body. “They claim that they heard nothing during the night and that all the doors and windows were locked tightly this morning. Herrick…”

Taking his companion’s arm, Herrick gently steered the growingly hysterical woman to the small settee in the corner of the room.

“Sit down, Nadia,” he urged, settling himself beside her to hold her hands in a reassuring grip.