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It is only a matter of time, dear brother.”

CHAPTER THREE
    I T TOOK THREE DAYS FOR L EONIDA to acquire the nerve necessary to walk the mile from Hillside to Meadowland.
    Stupid, really. She had discovered from Brianna the first day she arrived in Surrey that the Duke of Huntley made a habit of spending his afternoons assisting his tenants and inspecting his vast lands. There had truly been no reason to hesitate so long.
    After all, the quicker she found the damnable letters, the quicker she could return to Russia.
    She told herself that her reluctance was nothing more than revulsion. She was no prude (how could she be with Nadia as her mother?), but she did draw the line at behaving like a common thief.
    Deep inside, however, she knew it was not just her moral outrage that kept her from the inevitable.
    No, it had far more to do with her reaction to the Duke of Huntley.
    Odd how her entire body had seemed to tingle with excitement the moment he had glanced in her direction. He was stunningly beautiful, of course. But so was his brother and she had felt nothing but gratitude toward Lord Summerville. Well, gratitude and a horrid guilt.
    Certainly her heart did not race and her knees feel weak whenever he happened to be near. Nor did she have the unpleasant sensation that his penetrating gaze could see through her flimsy excuses to lay bare her true reason for being in Surrey.
    At last she could delay her duty no longer.
    Waiting until Brianna had excused herself to rest after luncheon, Leonida quietly slipped through a side door and meandered aimlessly through the gardens. Only when she was certain she could no longer be seen from the house did she slip through the nearest gate and head across the open meadows.
    Away from the house she allowed her steps to slow, enjoying the warmth of the sunlight that had made an appearance after the damp morning. Her nurse had told her fascinating stories of England, speaking of her own childhood in a small village in Derbyshire and the lovely countryside. But it was even more charming than Leonida had expected.
    It was all so very…green.
    Avoiding the various cottages, Leonida entered the thick woods rather than crossing the open fields. Although she did not intend to sneak into Meadowland, she preferred not to have word of her arrival spread throughout the neighborhood. The last thing she needed was the Duke of Huntley rushing home early.
    Careful to follow the path, it was not long before she stepped from the trees, her eyes widening as she caught her first sight of Meadowland.
    It was not nearly so vast or grand as the palaces in Russia, and even from a distance there was a hint of scruffiness, like a well-worn slipper, but Leonida discovered herself drawn to the rambling mansion.
    There was a comforting timelessness to the sturdy stone structure, she decided. With its massive bays, sash windows and carved stone balustrade, it appeared as if it had sprung naturally from the surrounding parklands rather than having been thrust there by man.
    She allowed herself a brief moment of silent appreciation before forcing her reluctant feet back into motion. It would be far too easy to give in to the panic fluttering in the back of her mind and flee back to Hillside.
    You will not be a coward, Leonida Karkoff .
    Pretending a confidence she was far from feeling, she followed the winding, tree-lined path that led past the ivy-covered tower gate and, at last, climbed the shallow steps. Not surprisingly one of the double oak doors was pulled open as she crossed the wide terrace. The Duke of Huntley struck her as a gentleman who would inspire complete loyalty among his staff.
    Her courage briefly wavered beneath the formidable glare of the thin butler attired in a black-and-gold uniform. The elderly servant made no effort to disguise his dislike at her intrusion, but obviously having been warned by his employer that Leonida had been issued an invitation, he grudgingly led her through the marble