A Foreign Affair by Evelyn Richardson

Author:Evelyn Richardson [Richardson, Evelyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Regency Romance
Publisher: Belgrave House
Published: 2003-08-29T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

The chiming of an elegant ormolu clock reminded Brett of the task awaiting him and, taking a reluctant leave of the ladies, he headed off to deliver his message to the tsar, hoping against hope that the entire mission could be accomplished quickly and easily, and with a minimum of interaction with the Princess Bagration. The entire undertaking filled him with distaste, for it smacked of duplicity and deception, which were anathema to a soldier accustomed to dealing with things openly and straightforwardly. But Castlereagh was right, at least he was doing something more exciting than transcribing and translating.

As the door closed behind Brett, the princess rose to go to her appointment with Madame Albert, leaving her daughter alone in the salon. Too distracted by the major’s visit to go back to her reading, Helena strolled over to the window and gazed idly into the street, watching the passersby and smiling to herself as she caught sight of a tall, broad-shouldered figure striding purposefully along. The major was different from the other men around him. Not only was he taller and more powerfully built, but the very way he carried himself told even the most casual observer that he was someone who lived his life with energy and purpose, someone who scorned the pettiness that dominated so many people’s existences.

Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, Helena caught sight of two dark shapes detaching themselves from the shadow of a doorway and gliding swiftly along down opposite sides of the street from one another. Leaning forward so that her nose was almost pressing against the glass, she squinted hard in a vain attempt to make out their features or any other distinguishing characteristics.

Something about the way the men moved, looking straight ahead, never swerving from their line of sight, reminded her of hunting dogs closing in on their prey. A shiver ran down Helena’s spine. She was as sure as if they had told her themselves that the prey these two were after was Major Lord Brett Stanford.

Without a second thought, she ran to her bedchamber, snatched up her wool cloak, and, throwing it over her shoulders, hurried down the stairs and along the Braunerstrasse in the direction they had been heading.

At first there was no sign of the men, and certainly none of the major, but Helena hurried on, half running, half walking. Oblivious of the curious stares of passersby, she pulled the cloak more tightly around her and increased her pace until at last she caught sight of a figure hugging the walls of the building not fifty yards ahead of her. Quickly she glanced to the other side of the street and, sure enough, a few yards behind his accomplice, the other man was skulking along from doorway to doorway.

They continued moving rapidly, but furtively, until Helena, finally catching up to them, was able to make out the major just ahead of them. His head and shoulders rose above the crowd, making him easily distinguishable as he strode along ahead of them.

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