Bound by Love (Russian Connection 2)

“What are you doing here?”

Stepping back, Boris allowed the torchlight to fall across his face, revealing his grim expression.

“I think there is something you need to see for yourself.”

“Now?”

“Yes.”

Stefan hesitated. He knew that Boris would never have traveled to the palace unless he had discovered something he considered urgent, but then again, the thought of leaving at this precise moment was far from appealing.

Even now Leonida would have returned to the ballroom, her devoted suitors swarming around her.

What if her unreasonable annoyance toward him led her into some sort of foolish behavior? Women were always unpredictable. An angry woman…well, there was simply no telling what she might take it into her mind to do.

“Does this have anything to do with Sir Charles?” he demanded.

“Only in part.” Boris waved a hand toward the far side of the orchard. “I have a carriage waiting behind the stables.”

“You are certain this cannot wait until tomorrow?”

“Quite certain,” the servant retorted, his voice bleak.

Stefan cast one last glance toward the palace before heaving a sigh. Perhaps it was just as well he could not return to the ballroom. In his current mood he was bound to do something he would later regret.

“Very well.”

Without bothering to return for his hat and gloves, Stefan angled across the terrace to the broad steps that led to the orchards.

In silence Boris joined him, leading him along a dark path to the elegant stables that were as elaborately constructed as the palace. As they neared, however, Boris circled away from the splashes of torchlight that filled the cobblestone yard and the milling grooms that were playing cards or throwing dice as they waited for their employers to return home for the evening. Only when they were once again cloaked in darkness did he approach the back of the sprawling stone buil

dings.

Wondering if Boris’s secretive behavior was simply a symptom of his long years of playing spy for his brother, or if something more nefarious was troubling him, Stefan wisely held his tongue as he climbed next to Boris onto the high bench of the carriage. With a crack of the whip, Boris sent the restless bays into motion, traveling down a narrow path that led to a side entrance to the grounds.

Once they were through the gate and headed toward the outer fringe of St. Petersburg, Stefan turned toward his companion, determined to have his answers.

“Can you tell me where we are headed, or is it to remain a mystery?”

“No mystery. I received your note and decided to discover what I could of Nikolas Babevich.”

Stefan arched his brows. “Without me?”

Boris shrugged. “I presumed you would be more pleasantly occupied.”

“As did I,” Stefan curtly admitted.

“Ah.” Boris shot him a knowing glance. “Troubles with Miss Karkoff?”

“Miss Karkoff is nothing but trouble.”

“You didn’t seem to think so earlier this evening,” the servant reminded him. “Course, a woman can steal a smile from a man’s face just as quick as she can put it on.”

Stefan snorted, turning his head to regard the brightly lit homes that they rushed past. Most of the houses were still built of stone and boasted gardens with marble fountains, but they were noticeably smaller than those closer to the palace and the facades without the ornate decorations.

“Truer words were never spoken,” he muttered.

“Tomorrow no doubt your smile will be back,” Boris said, slowing the carriage as they rattled over one of the numerous bridges that connected the sprawling city.