“Miss Leonida, whatever are you doing?”
With a squeak of alarm, Leonida whirled back to the gate, discovering her maid standing there with a frown on her round face.
Pressing a hand to her pounding heart, Leonida sucked in a steadying breath. “I was certain I heard someone following me.”
“The Duke?”
“I…” She shook her head, reaching to pull open the gate. She did not believe that Stefan would lower himself to sneaking behind her, but she did blame him for putting her so on edge that she was jumping at shadows. “It was probably just my imagination. My nerves are rather unsettled.”
“And no wonder.” Wrapping a protective arm around Leonida’s shoulders, Sophy led her toward the nearby house. “Your mother has no right to involve you in such foolishness.”
Leonida hastily glanced around the empty garden. “Shh, Sophy, you must take care.”
Sophy snorted. Leonida had been forced to reveal that her mother had sent her to England to discover a hidden object, but nothing more. It was not that she did not trust her maid, but the fewer who knew the better.
“Did you find what you were searching for?”
“No.” Leonida reached to pluck a pink rose from a nearby bush. “I shall have to return.”
“Not today, you will not,” Sophy muttered. “You look in need of a long nap.”
“I hoped you packed my headache powders.”
A sly smile curved Sophy’s lips. “No, but I did manage to get my hands on a bottle of vodka. The finest in your mother’s cellars.”
AS USUAL, STEFAN CHOSE TO WALK the short distance to Hillside rather than calling for his carriage. Not that he was foolish enough to wander around on his own. His position as Duke offered some protection, but a desperate thief could put a hole through his heart as easily as if he were any other man.
Besides, his servants would be horrified if he walked through the dark alone. They expected him to behave in a manner befitting a duke, even when he felt as if he were being slowly strangled by the rigid custom.
Reaching the gardens of Hillside, Stefan commanded the two grooms to go to the kitchen to enjoy dinner and stepped through the gate. Once alone, he followed the torchlit path until a faint sound had him reaching into his pocket to grasp the pistol that was loaded and primed to fire.
A shadow loomed from behind a fountain, then Stefan’s tension relaxed as the flickering firelight revealed his brother’s familiar features.
Pulling his hand from his pocket, Stefan gave a lift of his brows. “Edmond. Were you laying in wait?”
Edmond shrugged, his gaze narrowing as it skimmed over Stefan’s tailored jacket in a dove gray that he had matched with a black waistcoat stitched with a gold thread. Stefan shifted, uncomfortable. He had no desire to explain why he had felt a sudden need to call for the local tailor.
“I did wish to speak with you before you entered,” Edmond admitted, a mysterious smile playing about his lips.
“Has something occurred?” Stefan’s brows snapped together. “Is it Brianna?”
Edmond held up a reassuring hand. “Everything is well, Stefan.”
“Then why did you wish to speak with me?”
“The King sent a messenger earlier to demand my appearance at Court.”
“Damn.” Stefan grimaced. George had been more demanding than ever of his loyal subjects since the death of his father. “What does he want on this occasion?”
His brother shrugged. “He claims that he desires to discuss the details of his approaching coronation.”
“And what is his true purpose?”
“I suspect he desires me to ensure that Queen Caroline comprehends that her presence at the ceremony is distinctly unwelcome.”
Predictable. After the farcical trial where the King failed to dissolve his marriage to the Queen, he had done everything in his power to humiliate her.
“Does he not have a dozen fawning sycophants to negotiate the royal domestic squabbles?”