Bound By Love

“One hundred thousand,” Leonida whispered in shock. It was worse, much worse, than she had dreamed possible. “Good lord. We could not possibly pay such a sum.”

“I have no intention of paying so much as a ruble,” Nadia snapped. “Not until I am convinced the bastard truly possesses the letters, which I assure you I am not.”

“Why not?”

“Because as soon as the man turned to leave I motioned for Herrick Gerhardt to have him followed.”

Leonida grimaced. Herrick Gerhardt was Alexander Pavlovich’s closest advisor and the most alarming man she had ever encountered. Nothing escaped his dark, penetrating gaze. And his fierce devotion to the Emperor meant he would willingly destroy any threat without a hint of remorse.

It was impossible to be in his company without fearing you might be hauled to the nearest dungeon.

“Of course,” she muttered.

Nadia shrugged, not nearly so frightened of Gerhardt as she should be.

“This is not the first threat I have endured. My position often attracts those who would hope to use me to influence Alexander Pavlovich.”

Well, her mother was not alone. Leonida was shocked at the many occasions the members of society would approach her in hopes she could sway the Emperor.

As if she had any power. It was ludicrous.

“I assume Herrick managed to follow the man?”

“Yes. His name is Nikolas Babevich. His father is a Russian officer and his mother is—” Nadia gave a delicate shudder “—French. Disgusting people. They are never to be trusted.”

Leonida ignored her mother’s prejudice. Nadia possessed a vivid memory of Napoleon’s invasion and the costly war. “Was he captured?”

“Herrick decided it would be better not to allow the fiend to realize we had discovered his identity.”

Leonida shook her head. Had her mother taken leave of her senses?

“I will be the first to admit that I know very little of government affairs, but if you know who and where this villain is to be discovered then why on earth would you not have him arrested?” Leonida demanded in confusion.

“Because we cannot be certain he is acting alone.”

“Did Herrick at least retrieve your letters?”

“He searched the man’s house, but could find no letters.”

Leonida made a sound of frustration. “They could be anywhere.”

“He is being constantly watched so if he does have them hidden he will eventually lead the guards to the location.”

Leonida realized there was no use in pressing to have the horrid blackmailer arrested. If Herrick had decided to allow the man to remain free, then nothing she said would alter the situation.

Instead she concentrated on her more pressing questions. “Why do you suspect he is lying about having the letters?”

Nadia returned to her pacing, her fingers toying with the large drop diamonds of her necklace. A sure sign she was not nearly so composed as she would have Leonida believe.

“When he first approached me, I demanded that he show them to me. He claimed that he did not have them on his person, so I requested that he reveal precisely what they said. Again he refused, saying that he would offer no proof until I had paid his outrageous sum.”

“That does seem odd. Surely he must realize that anyone with the least amount of sense would demand evidence before paying?”

“Most gentlemen underestimate women. No doubt he assumed I would be so panicked that I would give in to his demands without thinking.” Nadia’s voice revealed her contempt for such stupidity. “And there is something else.”

“What?”

“Mira and I quite often traded secrets, so we devised our own code when we wrote to one another in the event our letters fell into the wrong hands. It was silly and no doubt childishly easy to decipher, but the man said nothing of having managed to translate the words.”

Leonida had to agree that it did sound suspicious. Even assuming the man thought a woman could be so easily culled out of such a large sum of money, he surely would have felt compelled to brag at his cleverness of deciphering the code.

In her experience, gentlemen never lost the opportunity to reveal their utter superiority to women.

“So, if he does not have the letters, how did he discover they exist? And how did he know they might be damaging to Alexander Pavlovich?”

“That is why Herrick allowed him to remain unaware we know his identity,” Nadia explained. “He believes that Nikolas Babevich is merely a pawn being used by others.”

Leonida shuddered, knowing it was more from apprehension rather than the chill of standing in the middle of the room wearing nothing more than her shift and corset.

The thought that there were more enemies seeking to harm her mother was not precisely reassuring.

“Then it seems there is nothing to do but wait until the man leads you to his associates.”

There was a tense silence before her mother halted to stab her with a narrowed gaze.

“Actually, there is a very important task that must be done.”

Leonida took an instinctive step backward. She knew that tone of voice. And it never boded well.

At least not for her.

“I am not certain I wish to know.”

“Someone must travel to England and search the Duke of Huntley’s estate for the letters,” Nadia said, ignoring Leonida’s words of reluctance. Typical. “If they are still there then we can be certain Nikolas Babevich is nothing more than a fraud.”

The shimmering unease in the pit of her stomach became outright panic.

Good lord. She had not seen this coming. Stupid, really. Nadia thought nothing of making the most outrageous demands of her only child.

“But…” She struggled to capture her elusive breath. “If the letters are still hidden in England, how could anyone know of them?”

Nadia shrugged. “Perhaps the current Duke or his brother, Lord Summerville, mentioned seeing them to someone. Edmond was here in St. Petersburg, after all, only a few months ago.”

Leonida seized on the words as if they were her salvation. “Then why not simply write to them and demand the letters back? The Duchess has been dead for years—they could have no interest in your correspondence.”

Nadia gave an impatient wave of her hand. “Because they are first and foremost Englishmen with loyalty to the Prince Regent… Oh, I suppose the hideous man has now become King.” She grimaced. “In any event, it is well known that the portly monarch was not at all pleased by Alexander Pavlovich’s last visit to celebrate the end of the war. If the King knew that those letters contained information that could harm the Emperor, I do not doubt he would demand they be given to him.”

Leonida wanted to argue, but she had heard the rumors of King George’s lingering resentment toward Alexander Pavlovich’s distant manner during his brief visit. Hardly surprising. The two rulers could not be more different.

The Emperor detested gaudy displays and false bravado.

She swiftly sought another excuse to avoid the appalling mission to England.

“One can hardly search the Huntley estate without permission. An English duke must possess an entire battalion of servants. I would not get past the door without being caught.”

Nadia smiled. “You could if you were a welcomed guest.”

“Mother…”

“The arrangements for your journey are being made as we speak,” Nadia interrupted, her tone resolute. “You will leave by the end of the week.”

It was Leonida’s turn to pace the floor, the rising panic making it difficult to think clearly.

“Even if I were willing to agree to this absurd scheme, which I assure you I am not, I could not possibly intrude upon the Duke of Huntley. Not only would it be extremely rude, but he is a bachelor.”

“I have already written to Lord Summerville and his new bride to inform them that Alexander Pavlovich has decided you are in need of a proper introduction to English society. They could not possibly turn you away.”

Dear heavens, this just became worse and worse.

“Does Lord Summerville live with his brother?”

“No, but the King has given the couple Lady Summerville’s previous home, which is less than a mile from Meadowland. No doubt you will often be calling on the Duke.”

Leonida shook her head in disbelief. “So you simply foisted a complete stranger on the newlyweds without regard to how awkward it will be for all of us?”

Nadia’s expression hardened. She had made her decision and nothing Leonida might say would sway her.

“Leonida, not only would I be ruined if those letters are indeed in the hands of my enemies, but Alexander would never be able to withstand the scandal,” she said, her voice harsh with warning. “Not again.”

Not again?

What the devil did that mean?

Leonida’s temper stirred. This was hardly the first occasion her mother had devised some outlandish scheme, but this…

“So you wish me to travel to England, intrude on a newlywed couple who have never met me, sneak into a duke’s well-guarded home and retrieve letters that might or might not be hidden there?”

Her mother did not so much as blink. “Yes.”

Leonida snorted. “Then, supposing I am to accomplish this unlikely feat, what am I to do? Burn the evidence?”

Nadia widened her eyes in shock at the mere notion. “No. I want you to return the letters to me.”

“For God’s sake, Mother. Have they not already caused enough trouble? They have to be destroyed.”

With a flurry of gauze and silk, Nadia crossed to stand directly in front of Leonida.

“Do not be a fool, Leonida. I need them.”

Caught off guard by her mother’s sharp insistence, Leonida frowned. “Why?”

Nadia paused, clearly choosing her words with care. “Alexander Pavlovich has always adored me, and over the years he has been quite…generous to us. But we both know that the Emperor’s brothers have never approved of me or Alexander’s continued support of our small household. If something were to happen, God forbid, I fear we might find ourselves cut out of any inheritance that rightfully should be ours.”

“I do not…” Leonida gasped in shock as realization hit. “Oh, no. You mean to use the letters to extort money from the next czar? Have you gone completely mad?”

Nadia’s lips thinned in annoyance. “One of us must think of the future, Leonida.”

“I am thinking of the future, Mother.” Whirling on her heel, Leonida marched to stare blindly out the window. “I just hope you enjoy the damp prison cell that is no doubt awaiting us.”

CHAPTER TWO

Surrey, England

AT A GLANCE, THE TWIN gentlemen who were currently strolling through the traditional English garden appeared startlingly similar.

Both possessed raven-dark hair that fell onto their wide foreheads in charming disarray. Both possessed the angular, Slavic features of their Russian-born mother. Both were blessed with dark blue eyes that had been sending women into a swoon since they left the cradle. And both had the sort of leanly muscled bodies that were shown to perfection beneath their tailored jackets and buckskins.

A closer study, however, would reveal that the elder twin, Stefan, the current Duke of Huntley, had skin a few shades darker than his brother, Edmond, Lord Summerville. And his shoulders were just a tad broader. A result of the hours spent overseeing his vast farms. Stefan’s features were also a trace more delicate than Edmond’s. Elegant rather than powerful.

The physical differences, however, were nothing in comparison to the differences in personalities.

Edmond had always been a restless soul, or at least he had been until he had wed Brianna Quinn several weeks before, while Stefan was deeply devoted to his estate and the vast number of people who depended upon him. Edmond was charming, swift to anger and frighteningly courageous. He had willingly risked his neck on several occasions during his time as advisor to Alexander Pavlovich.

Stefan, on the other hand, was far more reticent, preferring to remain in the background rather than calling attention to himself. He was also prone to speak the truth rather than offer flattery, which perhaps explained why he was more comfortable in the company of his tenants rather than the aristocrats scattered about the neighborhood.

They both, however, shared a shrewd intelligence and fierce loyalty to each other, as well as those who depended upon them.

It was that loyalty that had brought Edmond to Hillside on this late spring morning.

Strolling through the gardens of Hillside that were being ruthlessly manicured after fifteen years of neglect, he slid a covert glance toward his brother, who was walking silently at his side.

“So, your guest has arrived?” he murmured.

Edmond’s lips twitched; no doubt he easily sensed Stefan’s looming lecture.

“She has.”

Stefan tossed aside any notion of subtlety. It had never been his talent.

“I cannot comprehend why you allow yourself to be taken advantage of by Alexander Pavlovich,” he growled, stepping around a pile of branches that had been cut from the now tidy hedge. “You are not one of his advisors.”

“I have never been an advisor to King George either, but that does not halt him from taking advantage,” Edmond pointed out. “Of either of us.”

Stefan ignored the reminder of King George’s incessant demands. Instead he concentrated on the two women currently entering the garden from the rambling Palladianstyle home.

Brianna was easily recognizable by her vibrant red hair and her swift, rather unladylike stride. In many ways she was as impulsive and reckless as Edmond.

A familiar, fond warmth filled his heart before Stefan was turning his attention to the tiny woman struggling to keep pace with Lady Summerville.

“Is that her?” he demanded.

“Yes. Miss Leonida Karkoff.”

In that moment the woman turned her head and Stefan stumbled to a startled halt.

It was not the female’s beauty.

Well, at least not entirely.

She was lovely. Hair as golden as a morning sunrise, alabaster skin, and a slender form that was currently shown to advantage by her moss-green walking dress that was modestly scooped at the bodice with tiny puff sleeves.

No, it was the unmistakable line of her profile and the potently sweet curve of her lips.

He would bet his last quid her eyes were the color of a summer sky.

“Good God.”

Edmond chuckled. “Lovely, is she not?”

“Lovely, and remarkably familiar.”

“Yes. There is no mistaking her father,” Edmond agreed. “A pity he was already wed to Elizabeth before meeting Leonida’s mother. Nadia would have made a formidable czarina who might have given Alexander Pavlovich the courage he needed to defy the nobles and insist upon the reforms he desired when he was still young.”

“His grandmother would never have allowed him to wed a provincial chit with nothing but beauty and sheer cunning to recommend her.”

Edmond flashed him a wry glance. “Never underestimate a determined woman.”

“Which is why I prefer a more timid female,” Stefan smoothly countered. “Life is much more peaceful.”

Edmond grimaced. “Tedious.”

Stefan returned his attention to the approaching women. “How long does Miss Karkoff intend to linger?”

“She has not revealed her plans.”

No, he did not imagine she had. Or was likely to.

“It hardly makes sense for the Emperor to send her to this remote part of Surrey if he desired her to mix among English society.”

“The London season is at an end.” Edmond’s expression was suddenly sly. “Besides, why toss the lovely Leonida among a crowd of other lovely ladies when she could be the only eligible female within miles of an unwed duke?”

“You think…” Stefan shook his head, not about to fall for such an obvious ploy. “No. Not even Alexander Pavlovich is so lacking in finesse as to blatantly dangle his daughter beneath my nose.”

“Perhaps not, but her mother would.”

“No.”

Edmond arched a raven brow. “Why are you so certain?”

“I am not so isolated that I haven’t heard the usual gossip that trickles from London. From all accounts, the Countess Karkoff has her heart set on nothing less than a prince for her daughter.”

Edmond shrugged. “A wealthy English duke would surely trump a destitute prince from a principality that is little more than a spot on the map.”

“Not if that principality possessed soldiers that Alexander Pavlovich could count loyal to his throne,” Stefan retorted. “I have many things, but no army to lend aid.”

“No, but you do have the ear of the English king. A most powerful ally.”

“A king that has peevishly proclaimed his disapproval toward the Czar.”

Edmond chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. He, better than anyone, understood Stefan’s abhorrence at the thought of being wed for his title.

“Maybe this is Alexander Pavlovich’s attempt to make peace.”

“Then the wench should be in London,” Stefan growled. “I do not doubt she could easily wrap the King about her finger.”

Edmond narrowed his gaze. “Why are you so suspicious of the poor chit?”

“I have not forgotten the last occasion you became involved in Russian affairs.” Stefan frowned. “Both you and Brianna were nearly killed.”

“Hardly Alexander Pavlovich’s fault.”

Stefan could not argue. It had been yet another plot to overthrow the Czar, but of course, it had been Edmond who was tossed directly in the middle of danger.

“Perhaps not, but he is never hesitant to put you at risk for his own cause. I do not wish to see you once again entangled.”

Edmond tossed an arm around his shoulders. “Do not worry, Stefan. Much to my surprise, Leonida is not only charming, but utterly lacking her mother’s ambition and her father’s Machiavellian plotting.”

“Hmm.” Stefan was not so easily convinced, but it was obvious Edmond was not prepared to heed his warnings. It would have to be Stefan’s duty to keep a careful watch on the unwelcomed guest. “Does she at least realize that she is intruding into the privacy of newly weds?”

A wicked humor twinkled in Edmond’s eyes. “You are surely familiar enough with me, Stefan, to know that when I desire to spend time alone with my exquisite wife I allow nothing and no one to stand in my way.”

“True enough,” Stefan was forced to concede. “I cannot recall how many dinners I have attended at Hillside only to find myself shown to the door before I could even finish my port.”

“Someday, my dear brother, you will understand.”

“I believe one Huntley blinded by the agonizing throes of love is quite enough.” His tone was flippant, disguising the dull ache of loneliness that had plagued him over the past year. That was a secret he intended to keep to himself. “Think of our reputation.”

“Should I think of my reputation as a frivolous rake or your reputation as a dull farmer who pays more heed to his cows than to society?” Edmond teased.

“Surely not dull?” Stefan protested. “I have always thought I possessed a small measure of wit.”

“A very large measure of wit. Unfortunately it is rarely on display outside Meadowland. I fear you may become as moldy as your books.”

Stefan pulled away from his brother’s arm, discomfited by the turn of the conversation. He would stab a dagger in his heart before he would allow Edmond to realize just how jealous he was of the happiness he had discovered.

No one deserved it more than Edmond.

“My books are not moldy, and neither am I.”

Edmond’s gaze was searching, perhaps sensing his brother’s unease. “It would not hurt you to practice your social skills.”

“Ah, I begin to understand your devious plot.” Stefan deliberately turned the conversation from himself. “You wish me to keep Miss Karkoff distracted so you can spend more time alone with your bride.”

“My only thought is for you, dearest Stefan.”

Laughing at his brother’s pious tone, Stefan abruptly realized they were no longer alone. A curious tingle inched down his spine as he turned to smile into Brianna’s astonishing green eyes, only grudgingly turning his attention to the woman at her side.

Without warning his breath was wrenched from his lungs as he encountered the clear blue gaze that shimmered with a guileless innocence.

Christ. It was no wonder Alexander Pavlovich had sent this female to do his bidding. Leonida Karkoff was every man’s fantasy. Sweet, untouched purity combined with a golden beauty that stirred a primitive need to sweep her off her feet. Who would not be dazzled by such a vision?

Even Stefan.

It was the sound of Brianna delicately clearing her throat that made Stefan realize he was staring like a damned fool, and with a silent curse at allowing himself to be distracted for even a moment by the dangerous siren, he determinedly returned his gaze to Lady Summerville.

“Good day, Stefan,” she murmured, her smile impish.

“Lovely Brianna.” With a deliberate motion, he grasped her hand and raised it to his lips. He enjoyed provoking his twin. “As always you brighten my day.”

On cue, Edmond shifted to place a possessive arm around his wife. They both knew that Stefan regarded Brianna as a beloved sister, but some reactions were too instinctive to be denied.

Perhaps that explained why he was so vividly aware of the innocent blue gaze still fixed to his profile, and the enticing scent of jasmine that filled the air.

Instinct.

Thankfully obtuse to Stefan’s uncharacteristic distraction, Edmond waved a slender hand toward his guest.

“Stefan, may I introduce you to Miss Karkoff? Leonida, my brother, the Duke of Huntley.”

With no choice, Stefan grimly ignored the peculiar race of his heart, and turned to watch Miss Karkoff perform an elegant curtsy.

“Your Grace.” Her voice was low, with only a trace of accent to mar her perfect English.

The dip of his head was just short of rude. He would not forget his suspicions.

Not even if Leonida Karkoff did possess the face of an angel.

“I hope you are enjoying your visit to Surrey?” Her smile was dazzling. Of course. Everything about her was dazzling.

“Very much, thank you. Lord and Lady Summerville have been most welcoming and I have discovered a great deal of beauty in the English countryside.”

“It must be a bit tedious in comparison to St. Petersburg. As I recall there is a constant variety of entertainments offered to young and beautiful women.”

She shrugged, drawing attention to the delicate line of her shoulders and the slender neck that was circled by a perfect strand of pearls.

“I prefer the peace,” she countered, a hint of curiosity in her eyes, as if able to sense his distrust. “And to be honest, I am pleased to be in the country where I can truly bask in your summer warmth.”

He curved his lips into a smile, taking her arm to firmly lead her down the paved pathway. Obviously he would have to take greater care if he were not to put her on guard.

“Like a cat?”

She stiffened, as if caught off guard by his touch, then with a smile that was as false as his own, she fell into step beside him.

“Yes, I suppose I do feel rather like a cat,” she said, lifting her face as if enthralled by the warm sunlight. “At home I rarely leave the house without being wrapped in at least a shawl.”

“What a pity to conceal such skin.” Against his will, Stefan’s gaze skimmed over her delicate features. God, but she was beautiful. “It shimmers with the beauty of alabaster in the sun.”

“I am confused, your Grace.”

“And why is that?”

She turned her head to stab him with a penetrating stare. “I understood that your brother was the practiced flirt while you preferred substance to charm.”

“I seem to be referred to as a stodgy bore with depressing frequency of late. I never realized I was so dull.”