If anything, Leonida was only more confused. “From all I have heard, your affair with Czar Alexander was not precisely a closely guarded secret.”
“No.” Nadia shrugged, as always unrepentant at her intimate connection to the Emperor. “Our…relationship was a source of endless gossip, but our private conversations were never intended to be shared. Not even with a dear friend whose loyalty to the Romanovs could never be questioned.”
Leonida stiffened. “You revealed Alexander Pavlovich’s private conversations to the Duchess of Huntley?”
Nadia’s expression became defensive. “I knew she could be trusted and it was not as if I could share my most intimate thoughts with anyone else. There was not a woman in society who was not consumed with jealousy by my relationship with Czar Alexander.”
“As they still are.” Leonida hastily soothed the older woman. She would get nothing out of Nadia if she were pouting. And Leonida had a terrible foreboding she needed to know precisely what was happening. “But you are rarely so indiscreet.”
Nadia was far from appeased. “How could I possibly suspect that anyone beyond the Duchess would ever see them?”
Leonida’s heart stuttered. “Someone else has seen them?”
“I do not need you to point out that I was a reckless idiot. I am painfully aware of my mistakes.”
“Very well.” Leonida sucked in a calming breath. “I presume that these letters hold information that might prove uncomfortable for the Czar?”
“It is much worse than that. In the hands of his enemies they might very well destroy him.”
“Destroy him?” Leonida blinked in shock. “Surely you must be exaggerating?”
“I only wish I were.”
“Mother?”
With a graceful motion, Nadia sat on the brocade window seat, the morning sunlight revealing the shadows beneath her eyes and lines that bracketed her full lips.
It was the first occasion that Leonida could recall her mother actually appearing her age.
That was more frightening than all the melodramatic insinuations of imminent danger.
“Being the leader of the Russian empire is never a simple task,” she said in low tones. “Unrest is always brewing among the citizens, while treachery is a mandatory game for the nobility, but matters have become even more perilous over the past few years. Alexander spends too much time away from his throne as he travels about the world. It gives his enemies encouragement to plot against him.”
“They hardly need encouragement.”
“Perhaps not, but they grow more bold with every passing day.”
Leonida licked her dry lips. “And there is something in the letters that would offer Alexander Pavlovich’s enemies the means to harm him?”
“Yes.”
“What…”
Her mother held up an imperious hand. “Do not ask me, Leonida.”
Leonida’s first instinct was to demand an answer. If she were to be involved in whatever mess her mother had created, she deserved the truth.
Then she wisely swallowed the words hovering on her lips.
She held a great love and respect for Alexander Pavlovich, but she of all people understood he was just a man, with all the failings and frailties of any other. And, in truth, there had always been a melancholy air that shrouded the Emperor, as if he carried with him a deep and painful secret.
Did she truly wish to know what caused him such sorrow?
“Then you must write to the Emperor and warn him of the dangers,” she said briskly. “He will surely wish to return to St. Petersburg.”
“No,” her mother denied sharply.
“You cannot hide the truth, Mother.”
“That is exactly what I must do.”
Leonida frowned, unable to believe her mother could be so selfish.
“You will put Alexander Pavlovich at risk because you do not wish to confess your indiscretion?”
The dark eyes flashed with annoyance. “Mon Dieu. Have you not been paying attention over the past months?”
“You mean the uprising?”
“Alexander is devastated.” Nadia paced across the polished wood floor, her expression tight with unmistakable concern. “He considered the Semyonoffski Regiment the most faithful of all his soldiers and their betrayal has been like a knife in his heart. I fear for him, Leonida. He is so fragile. I am not certain he could bear what he is certain to believe is yet another betrayal.”
“We are all concerned for his welfare, but he is the Emperor,” Leonida pointed out softly. “He must know of any threat to his throne.”
Coming to a halt, Nadia turned to meet Leonida’s gaze with a tilt of her chin.
“I intend to ensure that any threat is brought to an end before Alexander returns.”
“How? If someone has managed to get their hands on the letters you wrote…”
“I am not convinced that anyone has actually seen the letters.”
Leonida lifted her hands to rub her throbbing temples. “You are giving me a headache, Mother. Perhaps you should start at the beginning.”
Drawing in a deep breath, Nadia pressed her hands to her stomach as she sought to gain command of her composure.
“Last week a masked man calling himself the Voice of Truth approached me at Count Bernaski’s masquerade. The ridiculous man claimed that he possessed the letters I had written to Mira and that he would make them public unless I agreed to pay him one hundred thousand rubles.”
“One hundred thousand,” Leonida whispered in shock. It was worse, much worse, than she had dreamed possible. “Good lord. We could not possibly pay such a sum.”
“I have no intention of paying so much as a ruble,” Nadia snapped. “Not until I am convinced the bastard truly possesses the letters, which I assure you I am not.”
“Why not?”
“Because as soon as the man turned to leave I motioned for Herrick Gerhardt to have him followed.”
Leonida grimaced. Herrick Gerhardt was Alexander Pavlovich’s closest advisor and the most alarming man she had ever encountered. Nothing escaped his dark, penetrating gaze. And his fierce devotion to the Emperor meant he would willingly destroy any threat without a hint of remorse.
It was impossible to be in his company without fearing you might be hauled to the nearest dungeon.
“Of course,” she muttered.
Nadia shrugged, not nearly so frightened of Gerhardt as she should be.
“This is not the first threat I have endured. My position often attracts those who would hope to use me to influence Alexander Pavlovich.”
Well, her mother was not alone. Leonida was shocked at the many occasions the members of society would approach her in hopes she could sway the Emperor.
As if she had any power. It was ludicrous.
“I assume Herrick managed to follow the man?”
“Yes. His name is Nikolas Babevich. His father is a Russian officer and his mother is—” Nadia gave a delicate shudder “—French. Disgusting people. They are never to be trusted.”
Leonida ignored her mother’s prejudice. Nadia possessed a vivid memory of Napoleon’s invasion and the costly war. “Was he captured?”