was a misery, but it did teach me that I would do anything to escape,” she rasped harshly. “When my aunt decided it was her duty to invite me to her home, I ignored my father’s threat to disown me. What did he have to offer me beyond years of lonely isolation? Instead I sold my few pieces of jewelry and made my way to St. Petersburg alone.”
Leonida chuckled in admiration. Of course she had. Nothing would be allowed to stand between Nadia and her dreams.
“You are truly amazing, Mother,” she said. “There are few women who would have possessed such courage.”
Nadia slowly turned, a rueful smile touching her lips. “It was more desperation than courage and, had I known I was expected to be more a servant than a guest beneath my aunt’s roof, I am not entirely certain I would have been so eager to endure the grueling journey.”
“I am certain. You have never allowed anything to stand in the path of what you desire.”
Her mother shrugged. “True, but not even my considerable determination would have given me the opportunity to enter society without the assistance of Mira Toryski.”
It took a moment for Leonida to place the name. “The Duchess of Huntley?”
“Her family were neighbors of my aunt,” Nadia explained. “She was already a favorite among society, of course. How could she not be? She was beautiful, wealthy and yet astonishingly kind. I shall never understand why she took pity on me and convinced my aunt to allow me to attend a few of the smaller gatherings, but I shall forever be grateful.”
The Countess’s deep affection for her girlhood friend could not be mistaken. Strange, considering Nadia preferred to surround herself with handsome young officers rather than the ladies of society.
“That is when you met Alexander Pavlovich?”
“Yes.” The dark eyes softened as they always did at the mention of the Emperor. “He was so handsome and charming. I had only to glance at him to know he was a man destined for greatness.”
Leonida resisted the urge to prod for more details of her mother’s relationship with Alexander Pavlovich. There were some questions better not asked.
“This is all very fascinating, Mother, but I do not entirely comprehend what is troubling you.”
Nadia’s hands shook as she smoothed them over the gauze skirt. “I need you to understand my deep affection for Mira.”
“Why?”
“Not long after I came to St. Petersburg Mira was introduced to the Duke of Huntley. She, along with most of the women in society, lost her heart to the handsome Englishman and returned with him to London to be wed.” Nadia grimaced. “I was devastated by the loss of my dearest friend. She was…well, let us just say that my only comfort was exchanging letters so we could continue to be involved in one another’s lives.”
“Perfectly understandable,” Leonida said gently.
“Perhaps, but I was still foolishly young and when Alexander Pavlovich began to make his interest in me known, I was eager to share every detail with Mira.”
If anything, Leonida was only more confused. “From all I have heard, your affair with Czar Alexander was not precisely a closely guarded secret.”
“No.” Nadia shrugged, as always unrepentant at her intimate connection to the Emperor. “Our…relationship was a source of endless gossip, but our private conversations were never intended to be shared. Not even with a dear friend whose loyalty to the Romanovs could never be questioned.”
Leonida stiffened. “You revealed Alexander Pavlovich’s private conversations to the Duchess of Huntley?”
Nadia’s expression became defensive. “I knew she could be trusted and it was not as if I could share my most intimate thoughts with anyone else. There was not a woman in society who was not consumed with jealousy by my relationship with Czar Alexander.”
“As they still are.” Leonida hastily soothed the older woman. She would get nothing out of Nadia if she were pouting. And Leonida had a terrible foreboding she needed to know precisely what was happening. “But you are rarely so indiscreet.”
Nadia was far from appeased. “How could I possibly suspect that anyone beyond the Duchess would ever see them?”
Leonida’s heart stuttered. “Someone else has seen them?”
“I do not need you to point out that I was a reckless idiot. I am painfully aware of my mistakes.”
“Very well.” Leonida sucked in a calming breath. “I presume that these letters hold information that might prove uncomfortable for the Czar?”
“It is much worse than that. In the hands of his enemies they might very well destroy him.”
“Destroy him?” Leonida blinked in shock. “Surely you must be exaggerating?”
“I only wish I were.”
“Mother?”
With a graceful motion, Nadia sat on the brocade window seat, the morning sunlight revealing the shadows beneath her eyes and lines that bracketed her full lips.
It was the first occasion that Leonida could recall her mother actually appearing her age.
That was more frightening than all the melodramatic insinuations of imminent danger.
“Being the leader of the Russian empire is never a simple task,” she said in low tones. “Unrest is always brewing among the citizens, while treachery is a mandatory game for the nobility, but matters have become even more perilous over the past few years. Alexander spends too much time away from his throne as he travels about the world. It gives his enemies encouragement to plot against him.”
“They hardly need encouragement.”
“Perhaps not, but they grow more bold with every passing day.”
Leonida licked her dry lips. “And there is something in the letters that would offer Alexander Pavlovich’s enemies the means to harm him?”
“Yes.”
“What…”
Her mother held up an imperious hand. “Do not ask me, Leonida.”
Leonida’s first instinct was to demand an answer. If she were to be involved in whatever mess her mother had created, she deserved the truth.
Then she wisely swallowed the words hovering on her lips.
She held a great love and respect for Alexander Pavlovich, but she of all people understood he was just a man, with all the failings and frailties of any other. And, in truth, there had always been a melancholy air that shrouded the Emperor, as if he carried with him a deep and painful secret.
Did she truly wish to know what caused him such sorrow?
“Then you must write to the Emperor and warn him of the dangers,” she said briskly. “He will surely wish to return to St. Petersburg.”
“No,”
