Her lips thinned at the unwelcome reminder of the uprising among the Emperor’s guards. As her mother had so recently pointed out, the politics in Russia were always a murky affair, with a dozen secret societies and foreign powers plotting to overthrow the Czar at any given time, but the betrayal by his own army had been designed to strike Alexander Pavlovich directly in his heart.
“Yes, it was an unfortunate incident.”
“Rather more than unfortunate,” he drawled.
Her chin tilted with offended loyalty. “England is not without a few revolts by the people.”
His smile widened at her sharp tone. “True. I was merely curious about the mood in St. Petersburg.”
“Much as it always is, I suppose.”
“Has the Czar returned from his travels?”
She considered her words, wondering if his interest was merely passing curiosity or something more.
“He had not when I left, although I believe he was expected shortly. The Emperor does not keep me informed of his movements.”
“According to my brother, the Emperor rarely keeps anyone informed of his movements.”
Well, that was true enough. Unfortunately.
“Do you have a specific interest in Czar Alexander?”
The handsome features hardened with an unmistakable warning. “I am very fond of Alexander Pavlovich, but he does possess a habit of putting my brother at risk when it suits his purpose.”
She blinked in confusion. “I understood that Lord Summerville had resigned his position with the Emperor?”
“Yes, he has.”
Was that his suspicion? That she had come to Surrey to lure Lord Summerville back to Russia?
Hastily she was on her feet, hoping to disguise the flood of relief that raced through her.
“I should return to Hillside before Lady Summerville begins to worry.”
“But you have not yet chosen a book,” he protested, rising from the chair to stand at her side.
“Perhaps another day. A woman in Lady Summerville’s condition must not be made anxious.”
“Condition?” His brows lifted. “Did Brianna tell you she is increasing?”
“Not precisely, but it was not difficult to surmise considering.…” She broke off her words, suddenly realizing it was not her place to reveal that poor Brianna spent most mornings battling her nausea.
“So, I am not the only who is shrewd.”
“Hardly shrewd,” she denied. If she had a bit of sense she would never have agreed to her mother’s insane plot. “Goodbye, your Grace.”
With a hasty curtsy, she was heading for the door, not at all surprised that before she could yank the thing open, the Duke’s voice was halting her escape.
Nothing was easy when this man was near.
“I shall see you at dinner, of course.”
Reluctantly she turned, rather disconcerted to discover that he had moved to stand behind his desk.
“Dinner?”
“My brother has very kindly invited me to dine at Hillside.”
Her heart jerked at his words, but she knew it was not from fear. “I see. Then until later, your Grace.”
“A moment, Miss Karkoff,” he murmured, once again halting her escape, bending down to pluck something from the floor.
“Yes?”
Straightening, he held out his hand. “Your hairpin, I believe.”
This time it was fear that made her heart leap and her blood run cold. Damn. How could she have been so careless?
Frozen in place, she frantically searched her mind as he smoothly crossed the room.
“I…it must have fallen out while I was admiring the view,” she managed to croak, her throat dry as she met his brooding gaze.
“No doubt.”
Praying her hand did not tremble, she reached to pluck the diamond hairpin from his outstretched palm.
“Thank you.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
She jumped at the abrupt question. “What?”
“The view. Did you enjoy it?”
“Yes, I…very much.” Oh lord, she had to get away from that all too knowing gaze. She felt as if he could see into her very soul. “Goodbye, your Grace.”
With that unnerving swiftness he had grasped her hand, lifting it to his lips to caress her knuckles with a slow, intimate kiss.
“À bientôt, my angel.”
LEANING AGAINST THE DOORJAM, Stefan listened to the swish of muslin as Miss Karkoff rushed down the hallway. Just for a moment, he allowed himself to savor the lingering scent of jasmine and the memory of her warm flesh beneath his lips.
Christ. He had never been so aware of a woman. The delicate line of her profile. The lush curve of her mouth. The gentle mounds of her breasts that begged for a man’s touch.
His body didn’t give a damn why she was in Surrey. Only how swiftly he could get her into his bed.
Thrusting aside the dangerous thoughts, Stefan waited for the inevitable arrival of his butler. Goodson had not been pleased by Stefan’s invitation to allow Miss Karkoff to make use of the library. The servant had devoted his life to ensuring that Stefan was protected from even the least disruption.
While he appreciated Goodson’s dedication, Stefan intended to ensure the poor servant put aside his protective nature. At least until he discovered what the blazes Miss Karkoff was plotting.
When Stefan had casually suggested to Miss Karkoff that she visit his library, it had been with a vague hope of earning her gratitude, and perhaps luring her into revealing some hint of her true purpose in Surrey. He had not truly expected her to accept the offer. Not if she were here to sway Edmond into some foolish scheme for the Emperor.
Now he had to wonder if he was mistaken.
Oh, he was still suspicious of the beautiful woman. She was hiding something. He was as certain of that as he was certain that she had been searching his desk before he had so unexpectedly returned home.
But what?
He was brooding on the puzzle when the thin, silver-haired butler silently slid down the hall to stand before him.
“Ah,
