Page List


Font:  

“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.”

“Substance is not dull.”

His brow lifted at her vehement tone. “No?”

“Quite the opposite.” She pinned the stiff smile back on her lips. “Lady Summerville mentioned that you possess the finest library in Surrey.”

“You are interested in books?”

“Far more than my mother approves of, I fear. If I were allowed to have my way, I would spend my evenings curled before a warm fire with a good book rather than attending the seemingly endless gatherings Russian society adores.”

His heart missed a beat. She preferred books to society? No. It had to be a lie. Just a part of the act she performed so well.

“An unusual preference for a young lady.”

“I disagree.”

“Do you?”

“It is more that young ladies are rarely asked what their preference might be.”

His eyes narrowed. Beautiful and clever. Dangerous.


Tags: Rosemary Rogers Russian Connection Historical