Scandalous Deception (Russian Connection 1)

“I said that you will lose her,” Vanya readily repeated, pausing at the door to turn and stab him with a resigned expression. “Already, Brianna is planning her return to England.”

“I am aware she desires to return to London so that she can meet with her solicitor and gain control of her inheritance,” he said slowly. “I will accompany her once she is fully healed.”

“She did not mention having you accompany her. Indeed, she was fairly determined that she would be returning alone, so that she could set up her household without interference.”

“That is only because she is currently unhappy with me. Once she has recovered her temper, she will realize she is being ridiculous.”

Vanya heaved a sigh. “Edmond, I love you as if you were my own son, but there are times when I want nothing more than to slap you. Let go of the past, before it is too late, my dear.”

“This has nothing to do with the past!”

“Oh, Edmond.”

With a last pitying glance, Vanya slipped from the room and disappeared down the corridor.

Left on his own, Edmond slowly sank onto a wing chair and allowed his heavy lashes to lower. Damn his supposed friends and their unwanted interference.

THREE DAYS LATER, EDMOND WAS forced to reconsider his arrogant assumption that Brianna would come to her senses and forgive him. The stubborn minx was determined to keep him at a damnable distance.

No matter how often he visited, she remained stoically aloof, her face wan and her beautiful eyes empty of expression.

It was almost as if it were merely her ghost that remained tucked beneath the heavy covers, while her essence had retreated so deep he could no longer touch her.

He had attempted every means to provoke a response from her. Teasing, goading, even bribery, but nothing could stir her from the strange lethargy. He might as well have been invisible for all the attention she offered.

Awakening on the fourth morning, he stormed into Vanya’s breakfast room, which was hung with green damask and filled with charming Chinese vases and jade figurines. He was relieved that Monroe had been called to the Palace so he could speak with the older woman in private.

It was not often that Lord Edmond Summerville found himself at a loss, and his pride had taken enough of a beating without having his admission of defeat made public.

Vanya was seated on a birch settee next to a gilt table that was nearly hidden beneath the large tray of eggs and toast and delicately stewed eel. Attired in a rich brocade gown that had several large emeralds sewn into the bodice, her hair pulled into intricate curls to frame her handsome face, she appeared every inch the Russian noblewoman, an image that was only enhanced as she watched his furious approach with no more than a lift of her brow.

“Good morning, Edmond. Would you care for some tea?”

“No, I bloody well do not want tea,” he snapped, the heels of his glossy boots clicking loudly on the polished parquet floor. “I want you to tell me why Brianna treats me as if I no longer exist.”

“I cannot converse with you while you pace my floor like a caged beast,” Vanya chastised. “At least have the decency to take a seat so I do not have to crane my neck.”

“Dammit, Vanya, I am in no mood to be polite.”

“Yes, I can see that.” Sipping her tea, Vanya met his smoldering gaze with a faint smile. “Is she refusing to see you again?”

Edmond shoved impatient fingers through his hair. “She might as well. When I do visit, she treats me as if I am some vague stranger. Hell, I would rather she damn me to the netherworld than regard me with that perfected indifference o

f hers.”

“She is still recovering, Edmond.” Vanya slowly set aside her cup. “You must have patience.”

The smooth explanation did nothing to ease Edmond’s annoyance. Indeed, it only stirred yet another of his grievances.

“Is she recovering?” he demanded, his voice thick with disbelief. Vanya’s lips parted, and he held up a slender hand. “Oh, I have heard the doctor claim that her wound is healing and that there is no infection, but I do not need to be a damned sawbones to see that she is far too pale and thin. When I cornered him this morning all he would say was that it was perfectly normal and that her appetite would return in time.”

Something rippled over the lovely face. Some mysterious emotion that was gone so swiftly that Edmond could not fully capture it.

“We must trust his judgment,” she said vaguely.

Edmond narrowed his gaze, sensing that there was more to Brianna’s illness than he was being told.

“Actually, I have no need to trust anything the fool might have to say.” A cold smile touched his lips. “I have called for Herrick’s surgeon to examine her later this evening.”