Leonida licked her dry lips, not at all certain where to begin.
“As you know, our mothers were very close to one another before your mother became the Duchess of Huntley. After the Duchess traveled to England my mother maintained a steady correspondence with her.”
“I believe we have already established that fact,” Stefan pointed out dryly.
“Do you wish me to tell you the truth or not?”
He waved a slender hand. “Proceed.”
“It was not long after your mother left St. Petersburg that my mother attracted the attention of Alexander Pavlovich,” she continued. “Of course she desired to discuss the relationship with her dearest friend.”
“The relationship was hardly a secret.”
“Perhaps not, but my mother was foolish enough to reveal the more…intimate details of her affair.”
His brows lifted as his gaze drifted over her slender form before returning to meet her wary eyes.
“I must be uncommonly dense because the intimacy of the affair is beautifully obvious.”
“I mean that she shared the private conversations between her and the Czar Alexander.” She paused, choosing her words with care. “Conversations that should never have left the privacy of Alexander Pavlovich’s chambers.”
It took a long moment, then with a sudden scowl, Stefan surged off the bed to glare down at her.
“I am dense,” he said, his voice edged with anger. “You came to Meadowland to steal my mother’s correspondence.”
Leonida instinctively hid behind a defensive expression. “The letters were written to your mother, but they were from my mother. I surely have as much a right to them as you do.”
He snorted. “If you truly believed that flimsy excuse then you would never have lied to my brother and his wife, insinuated your way into my home, and then crept away with my property in the middle of the night.”
STEFAN WATCHED THE COLOR flood Leonida’s cheeks, her thick tangle of lashes lowering to hide the guilt in her eyes.
Good.
She should feel guilty.
And not just because she had taken advantage of his hospitality to pry through his mother’s most private possessions.
“I did what I had to do,” she muttered.
His eyes narrowed, his hands curled into fists. “So, I at last know why you were searching through my home.”
“Yes.”
“Where did you find them?”
“In a safe hidden beneath the floorboards in the Duchess’s bedchamber.”
“Ah.” He recalled the small opening cut into the floor, although it had been years since he had opened it. “Did you take anything else?”
Her gaze jerked up to meet his hard gaze, her expression offended at his question.
“Of course not.”
“Why the devil did you not ask me for them?” he gritted, unwittingly revealing the true source of his anger.
She bit her bottom lip. “My mother feared that your loyalty to your king might lead you to refuse my request.”
He curled his hands into fists. Damn the Countess Karkoff. She had a great deal to answer for.