“My future?”
“You might have inherited your mother’s beauty and her undoubted charm, but you have little in common with her.”
“Very little,” she said dryly.
“Understandable, of course,” he said, his expression pensive. “Nadia’s childhood was filled with such bleak loneliness that she was bound to crave the excitement and affection denied her.”
Leonida grimaced. How often over the years had she rued her mother’s insatiable need to shock society? Even at times hiding in the shadows when Nadia was behaving at her most outrageous.
Only now did she realize that Nadia’s brittle joie de vivre was her means of denying her grim past.
“She never spoke of her childhood until…” Leonida caught herself before revealing her mother’s latest troubles. “Lately. It does explain her love for attention.”
Alexander Pavlovich’s expression softened. “Ah yes, she does keep society from becoming miserably dull. It is her disdain for convention that has forever fascinated me, and the reason our relations have continued throughout the years.”
“Mother is quite devoted to you.”
“Yes, I believe she has been content with what I could offer her,” he said, a glimmer of regret in his eyes. They both knew that while Nadia could claim a portion of his heart, Alexander Pavlovich had never been a faithful lover. “You, however, have quite different needs than Nadia. You would never be satisfied with a man who could provide nothing more than a fine home and an enviable position in society.”
She lowered her gaze to study his strong fingers covering her hand, her heart suddenly heavy. He was right, of course. There might be a part of her that was willing to sacrifice whatever necessary to keep Stefan in her life, but something inside her would wither and die.
“No.”
He gently squeezed her fingers. “There is a gentleman waiting for you who will love you with his entire heart. Do not settle for less.”
“Thank you,” she said softly.
A shadow fell across the entrance and they turned to watch a uniformed servant enter the alcove and perform a deep bow.
“Ah.” With a weary sigh, the Emperor lifted her fingers to his lips. “Duty once again rears its ugly head. Take care of yourself, ma petite.”
Leonida rose to her feet, straightening her shoulders.
Yes.
If she did not care for herself, then who would?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
STEFAN WOKE LATE after a restless night. In truth, it was a wonder he had managed to sleep at all. Stumbling across dead bodies was not precisely the best means of ensuring sweet dreams.
And it had not helped that when he had at last returned to the palace it was to discover Leonida had already left.
Dammit. How much longer must they play this frustrating game?
If she were beneath his roof then she could no longer hide from him. Which was the precise reason he needed to find the means of convincing her to return to England.
The sooner the better.
A hot bath helped to ease the knots of frustration, but he was still plagued by a strange sense of foreboding as he attired himself in a copper jacket and ivory waistcoat that he matched with brown breeches and glossy Hessians. In the intricate folds of his cravat he placed an emerald stickpin that was his only ornament beyond his heavy signet ring.
Leaving his chambers, Stefan made his way through the large house to discover Vanya in her private breakfast room decorated with green damask silk wall panels and pretty Chinese vases.
The older woman was seated at a small table, appearing remarkably pretty in a morning gown of Berlin silk with drop pearl earrings.
“Good morning, Stefan.” She waved a hand toward the sideboard that held a set of silver trays. “Will you join me for breakfast?”
“I would be delighted.”