Bound by Love (Russian Connection 2)

Waiting until Brianna had excused herself to rest after luncheon, Leonida quietly slipped through a side door and meandered aimlessly through the gardens. Only when she was certain she could no longer be seen from the house did she slip through the nearest gate and head across the open meadows.

Away from the house she allowed her steps to slow, enjoying the warmth of the sunlight that had made an appearance after the damp morning. Her nurse had told her fascinating stories of England, speaking of her own childhood in a small village in Derbyshire and the lovely countryside. But it was even more charming than Leonida had expected.

It was all so very…green.

Avoiding the various cottages, Leonida entered the thick woods rather than crossing the open fields. Although she did not intend to sneak into Meadowland, she preferred not to have word of her arrival spread throughout the neighborhood. The last thing she needed was the Duke of Huntley rushing home early.

Careful to follow the path, it was not long before she stepped from the trees, her eyes widening as she caught her first sight of Meadowland.

It was not nearly so vast or grand as the palaces in Russia, and even from a distance there was a hint of scruffiness, like a well-worn slipper, but Leonida discovered herself drawn to the rambling mansion.

There was a comforting timelessness to the sturdy stone structure, she decided. With its massive bays, sash windows and carved stone balustrade, it appeared as if it had sprung naturally from the surrounding parklands rather than having been thrust there by man.

She allowed herself a brief moment of silent appreciation before forcing her reluctant feet back into motion. It would be far too easy to give in to the panic fluttering in the back of her mind and flee back to Hillside.

You will not be a coward, Leonida Karkoff.

Pretending a confidence she was far from feeling, she followed the winding, tree-lined path that led past the ivy-covered tower gate and, at last, climbed the shallow steps. Not surprisingly one of the double oak doors was pulled open as she crossed the wide terrace. The Duke of Huntley struck her as a gentleman who would inspire complete loyalty among his staff.

Her courage briefly wavered beneath the formidable glare of the thin butler attired in a black-and-gold uniform. The elderly servant made no effort to disguise his dislike at her intrusion, but obviously having been warned by his employer that Leonida had been issued an invitation, he grudgingly led her through the marble foyer that offered a view of the impressive staircase and down a wainscot-paneled hallway to the library.

Opening the door with a bow, the butler disappeared into the bowels of the house, leaving Leonida alone to enter the vast room.

She breathed a sigh of pleasure at the towering shelves soaring two floors toward a ceiling painted with a stunning panorama of the local landscape. Along one wall was a bank of towering windows that overlooked a pretty deer park filled with trees and wildflowers. And at the end was a massive marble fireplace with two wing chairs and a narrow pier table situated before it.

Eventually, her gaze shifted to the heavy walnut desk and matching chair near the windows.

She briefly wavered. Did she dare try to sneak up and search for the Duchess’s private rooms, or did she begin here?

In the end cowardice won the day. The mere thought of trying to slip past an army of servants to intrude into a dead woman’s privacy made her stomach twist with dread.

Besides, it was entirely possible that the Duchess of Huntley used this beautiful room to write her correspondence.

Her decision made, she crossed to the desk and, bending down, she jerked open one of the upper drawers. She grimaced at the sight of the deep pile of papers, realizing this might take more time than she had first assumed.

Dividing her attention between the papers and the door leading to the hallway, she reached the last drawer when the unmistakable sound of footsteps had her slamming it shut and racing toward the nearest shelf, her heart in her throat.

She was blindly studying the leather-bound books when someone entered the room. With a pretense of indifference, she glanced to the side, fully expecting the grim butler to request she take her leave. Instead it was the Duke who stepped over the threshold, his expression hard as he studied her with an unnerving intensity.

Leonida froze. Good lord, he was beautiful. Disturbingly beautiful with his dark, perfectly chiseled features and his muscular body shown to advantage in his blue coat and buckskins.

At the moment his raven curls were tumbled from the wind and his cravat loosened to reveal the strong column of his throat, a testament to his hours in the fields, but his casual appearance only added to his potent attraction.

But it was the relentless intelligence in his dark blue eyes that sent a chill down her spine.

This man was no fool and she sensed he already had suspicions of her arrival in Surrey.

Dangerous.

The silence lasted for several painful heartbeats, then with a smile that did not meet his eyes, he was smoothly moving forward to take her hand and lift it to his lips.

“Miss Karkoff,” he murmured. “My butler informed me I would find you here.?

?

She tugged her hand from his grasp, unsettled by the tingles of pleasure that raced up her arm.

“I…” She halted to clear the husky fear from her voice. “I did not expect you.”