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 ivycovered 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 wainscotpaneled 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.”
He arched a brow. “No?”
“Lady Summerville mentioned you spent most afternoons in your fields.”
Something flashed through his eyes. Curiosity? Suspicion? “As a rule, although I do occasionally spend time with my accounts.”
So much for trusting in luck. She would not make that mistake again.
“I hope you do not mind my intrusion, your Grace?”
“Of course not.” He casually leaned a shoulder against the sturdy shelf, his powerful presence filling the room as his gaze slid blatantly over her sprigged muslin gown with tiny satin roses sewn along the scooped bodice. At last he returned his attention to the blush staining her cheeks. “I did invite you to make use of the library. Have you not discovered anything of interest?”
She managed a meaningless smile. She had not spent years among the treacherous Russian society without developing some skill in dissembling.
“I was indulging in my love for browsing. Your collection is quite magnificent.”
“In all fairness I must confess that I inherited a large portion of the collection from my various ancestors, although I do occasionally add a few books.”
She glanced to the wrapped packages sitting on the scrolled satinwood table near the door. She would bet her favorite pearl necklace they held newly arrived books.
“How occasionally?”
“Perhaps occasionally is not quite the proper word,” he conceded, a heart-melting twinkle entering his eyes.
Her stomach quivered. She was too aware of his potent appeal.
“I did not mean to disturb you. I will return…
Without warning, he reached out to grasp her arm and steered her toward the wing chairs.
“Please have a seat, Miss Karkoff. I have requested that Mrs. Slater bring us tea. I believe you will find her seedcake to be the finest in England.”
She briefly debated the odds of making it to the door before he could catch her, only to swiftly dismiss the ludicrous thought.
She had been well and truly cornered, and there was nothing to do but brave it out.
She sank gracefully into one of the chairs and folded her hands in her lap, hoping the penetrating blue eyes did not notice they were shaking.
“Thank you.”
Taking his own seat, the Duke stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankle and putting at risk the fine gloss on his Hessians.
“Tell me what you have seen of the house.”
She stiffened. Seen of the house? Mon Dieu. Did he suspect she had come to search Meadowland?
“I beg your pardon?”
“I thought perhaps Goodson had given you a tour. He is inordinately proud of the rambling old place and inclined to haul unsuspecting guests from room to room regardless of their boredom.”
“No.”
