Scandalous Deception (Russian Connection 1)

“Here now, where are you going in such a hurry?” a thick, drunken voice demanded next to her ear.

Brianna struggled against the repulsive grasp. “I be meeting another, let go,” she said, mimicking the other doxies in the room.

“You can meet him later. I have a desire for a saucy minx, and something tells me you could be very saucy.”

A flare of terrified fury raced through Brianna and with as much force as she could muster, she lifted her foot to kick the man directly on his shin.

“I said I have a meeting,” she gritted, managing to wriggle loose as he gave a groan of pain and loosened his grip.

“Why, you bitch…”

An opening appeared and Brianna darted toward the doorway, the crowd filling in behind her to prevent her assailant from following.

Giving a silent prayer

at her escape, Brianna did not allow her pace to slow as she entered the carpeted hallway and hurried toward the card room.

CHAPTER THREE

STANDING IN THE SMOKY CARD room, Edmond struggled to contain his impatience.

Predictably, it had not been an easy task to convince his stubborn brother that he truly was in danger. For all Stefan’s intelligence, he was remarkably reluctant to accept that anyone could possibly seek his demise, especially not his own cousin.

Then, of course, there had been the battle over Edmond assuming Stefan’s identity so he could lure the danger to London and away from Meadowland, hopefully flushing the villain into the open. It did not matter how many times Edmond explained that he was far more skilled to discover the truth behind the attacks and that he alone could turn the hunter into the hunted.

Finally, Edmond had been forced to point out that Stefan’s stubbornness might very well be endangering the staff and tenants of Meadowland, explaining that a man willing to murder a duke would not hesitate to kill a mere commoner standing in his way. It was only then that Stefan had given in to the inevitable.

Still, it was a full fortnight before Edmond was at last able to leave Meadowland in the disguise of his brother and arrive at Stefan’s town house in London. And another week before he could replace Stefan’s loyal staff with his own servants. If he were to be bait for a determined killer, he intended to surround himself with those trained to protect him.

It had not taken much effort to track Howard Summerville. All he needed was to discover the most lewd, offensive event on the calendar, Lord Blackwell’s Courtesan Ball.

He had not been disappointed. Within moments he had located Howard in the back card rooms. Now all he needed was his cousin to notice his looming form standing directly in his path.

Over the past twenty minutes, he had walked past the stupid man’s seat at the table on a dozen occasions, expecting to be recognized. After all, there were few in society that could claim the height of Edmond and his brother, and none other who wore the crest of Huntley stamped on a gold signet ring.

Everyone else in the smoke-choked room had instantly bowed in his direction, covertly giving way as was only fitting for a duke when he approached them.

Just when Edmond was convinced he would have to give in to his impulse and drag the man away from the table by the scruff of his neck, Howard tossed in his cards, signed his large stack of vowels and unsteadily rose to his feet.

It would be far preferable for the meeting to appear as nothing more than a chance encounter. The last thing Edmond desired was to tip his hand to his cousin. Howard Summerville was debauched, depraved and detestable, but he wasn’t a halfwit. He was going to be curious enough that the reclusive Duke of Huntley was seemingly tossing himself into the wicked pleasures of London without adding fuel to the fire.

Weaving his way toward the door, the slender, dark-haired man with a swarthy complexion, small black eyes and pinched countenance nearly rammed into Edmond before he came to a belated halt.

Squinting upward, the red-rimmed eyes took a long moment to focus. At last they widened as Howard sucked in a shocked breath.

“Good Lord, is that you Huntley?”

Edmond gave a stiff nod of his head, as if the meeting were an unpleasant surprise. It was how Stefan would react.

“Howard.”

“Whatever are you doing here?” the older gentleman demanded, shoving a hand through his tangled black hair. He looked ghastly. Having dispensed with his mask and domino, his unhealthy pallor was starkly visible, emphasizing the sunken hollows beneath his eyes. Even his expensively tailored evening suit was as creased as if he had been wearing it for days. “Hardly the place for a grand peer of the realm.”

Edmond bit back his acerbic words. For the moment, he was supposed to be the Duke of Huntley, and Stefan would never allow his ducal composure to slip, even if it did become a bit frosty when he was displeased.

“I would say that there are several peers of the realm in attendance,” he said, deliberately glancing toward the two Earls and a Baron currently seated at the tables.

“Oh, yes, well, I suppose there are,” Howard muttered, sullenly. “Still, I have never known you to partake of the more delicious enticements that London has to offer. Come to think of it, I have never known you to partake of any enticements.”