Scandalous Deception (Russian Connection 1)

Brianna’s lips thinned, recalling her mother’s brittle gaiety that did not quite hide the discontent smoldering just below the surface. Perhaps Lady Aberlane was correct. Perhaps her mother was one of those people who could not be happy when confined by a husband and family. But that did not excuse the fact that she had gambled away her own fortune and then Brianna’s dowry, before wedding a hideous creature who became a danger to her own daughter.

Nothing could excuse that.

“More than merely unfortunate,” Brianna said, sharply.

Once again Lady Aberlane reached out to pat Brianna’s hand, her expression faintly dismayed.

“So stupid of me to bring up such a painful subject,” she said. “Especially one that is all in the past.”

“Yes. Yes, it was long ago.” Brianna sucked in a deep breath, thrusting aside the pain of old wounds. It was futile to wish her mother could have been different. And it was most certainly futile to direct her ancient frustration toward sweet Lady Aberlane. “It was very kind of you to come and be my companion.”

The elderly woman swiftly returned to her fluttering, although Brianna did not miss the hint of speculation in the dark eyes.

“No, no, my dear, I am deeply grateful for the invitation. I have been living much too quietly,” she assured the younger woman. “It will be a wonderful diversion to be surrounded by society again. And of course, I always enjoy the pleasure of your company. We shall have a grand time together.”

Brianna smiled wryly, more convinced than ever that the wily old fox missed nothing. She would bet her last quid that Lady Aberlane already suspected this was no simple engagement.

“It should at least be interesting,” she murmured.

The woman smiled and gave Brianna a wink. “That it will, my sweet Brianna, that it will.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

EDMOND CHOSE TO VACATE the town house and enjoy a quiet dinner and lovely bottle of burgundy at his brother’s club. Situated on St. James’s Street, the club designed by Henry Holland was a place of comfort with leather chairs and tables set about the Great Subscription Room that allowed a gentleman the opportunity to share a quiet conversation.

He told himself that it was necessary to follow Stefan’s routine, not to mention that it would be beyond foolish to remain secluded in the town house when he could be out seeking information about his murderous cousin.

The foremost reason, however, was the necessity of being rid of the unnerving distraction of Miss Brianna Quinn.

How the devil was a gentleman to think clearly when his thoughts were consumed by the memory of satin skin and the enticing scent of lavender?

Unfortunately, distance seemed to do nothing to ease his aggravation, and at last conceding that there was nothing to be discovered at the quiet gentleman’s club, Edmond had returned to the town house and the temptations that awaited him there.

The household was abed when he silently slipped through the front door, and climbing the staircase to his bedchambers, he was greeted by a thin, balding servant with a narrow face and shrewd black eyes awaiting his return.

Edmond smiled as the man hurried to assist him with his tightly fitted coat. The son of a Russian scholar, Nikolai was not only a skilled valet, but capable of deciphering the most formidable codes. On more than one occasion, he had assisted Edmond in uncovering a plot intended to bring an end to Alexander Pavlovich’s position as Czar.

Perhaps his finest talent, however, was his dislike for meaningless chitchat. Unless he had information to pass on, Nikolai preferred a stoic silence.

Within moments, Edmond was stripped of his elegant attire and wrapped in a brocade dressing gown. Pausing just long enough to ensure that Edmond had no further need of his services, Nikolai quietly slipped from the room, leaving Edmond alone with his glass of brandy.

For a time, Edmond considered the wise notion of simply seeking his bed. It was late, and Brianna was no doubt asleep. She would hardly thank him for waking her at such an hour.

It was only a brief time, however, and draining the last of the brandy, Edmond walked toward the far wall of his chamber, then removed a Reynolds painting to reveal the hidden latch. With a sharp tug, a portion of the wall opened to reveal the dark passageway.

Pausing to pluck a lit candle from the mantle, he entered the passageway and made his way the short distance to Brianna’s chambers. There were a few tense moments as he struggled to recall the precise spot of the lever, then, after brushing aside the years of dust, he was at last pushing open the narrow bit of wall.

Edmond made no sound as he stepped into the shadowed bedchamber and closed the secret door behind him, but almost as if capable of sensing his presence, Brianna rolled over on the bed, her eyes snapping open in baffled shock.

“Edmond?” With an awkward motion, she sat up in the middle of the bed, holding the covers to her chest.

Edmond sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of her.

Christ, but she was exquisite.

Even with her astonishing hair in a tight braid, it gleamed with autumn glory in the light of his candle. And her face…so elegantly carved that it appeared to be the work of a magnificent artist rather than the luck of nature. His attention shifted to the pure green eyes that revealed the relentless spirit that smoldered within her.

A spirit that was as captivating as her beauty.