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“And extraordinarily attractive,” Brianna pointed out, as if Leonida was not already painfully aware of Stefan’s lethal allure. “It is grossly unfair that two men should possess such beauty. I always feel remarkably dowdy in their presence.”

Leonida snorted. “I know precisely how you feel.”

“Yes, perhaps you do.”

Leonida stiffened at Brianna’s soft words, sensing that the woman was far too aware of her potent awareness of Stefan.

Squaring her shoulders, she sternly reminded herself that she had a purpose in coming to Meadowland, and it was not to fantasize about the Duke of Huntley.

“Were you close to the Duchess?” she asked with artful innocence.

“She was always very kind to me.”

“As she was to my mother. They were great friends. In fact, she told me that she was so lonely that she wrote endless letters to the Duchess after she left Russia to travel to England.” She covertly glanced toward Brianna, watching her expression. “Did you ever happen across any of them?”

“Not that I can recall.” Brianna frowned. “Wait, it does seem…Oh, of course.”

“Yes?”

“I remember asking Edmond why he and Stefan held their cousin Howard Summerville in such contempt.” She grimaced. “He lived not far from here and I occasionally crossed his path, so I knew he was a petulant little snitch who delighted in spoiling the fun of others, but their violent hatred seemed a bit extreme.”

Leonida managed a smile, although she couldn’t imagine what Howard Summerville had to do with her mother’s letters.

“What did he say?”

“He said that Howard was always dunning them for money, and worse, they caught him more than once stealing objects from Meadowland that he could sell in London.”

Leonida blinked in shock. “Mon Dieu.”

“Edmond said they were usually small things, snuff boxes or statuettes, but once Stefan caught Howard in the Duchess’s rooms trying to stuff packets of old letters into his pockets.”

“Letters?” Leonida’s fingers tightened on the rose, sending a shower of crimson petals across the path. Had Howard Summerville managed to read the letters? Was he the one behind her mother’s blackmail? “You are certain?”

“I believe that is what Edmond said. Why?”

“It seems an odd thing to steal.”

“A dangerous thing to try and steal as it turns out.” Brianna laughed. “Stefan had bloodied Howard’s nose and cracked three of his ribs before Edmond could pull him off.”

Leonida froze. “I…see.”

“I do not mean to imply that Stefan is a violent man, but he is intensely protective of his parents’ memories.”

The dread that had been growing with every passing day coiled through the pit of her stomach.

She did not believe Stefan would physically harm her if he learned the truth of her quest. He had been raised a gentleman. But he might very well hate her.

And she could not blame him for a moment.

“Quite understandable,” she muttered.

“Stefan never forgave his cousin,” Brianna continued, unaware of Leonida’s shiver of regret.

Struggling to concentrate on the realization that there had been letters in the Duchess’s rooms, even if she could not know for certain they were the ones she sought, Leonida blinked in astonishment as a large dog bounded through the nearby hedge, dancing around her with his tongue hanging out and his ears flopping.

“Oh.”

Brianna laughed. “Do not fear, Puck would not harm you, would you, old boy?”


Tags: Rosemary Rogers Russian Connection Historical