“No. Once they…” He rubbed a hand over his face, hating the necessity of discussing such a repugnant subject with Emma. “Wearied of the girls, they no doubt sell them to brothels in Novgorod or Moscow.”
She swayed, her face ashen. “Anya,” she breathed. “I have to find her.”
“Emma, we cannot be certain she was on the ship.”
She met his gaze with an implacable expression that made Dimitri’s gut twist with dread.
“There is only one means to discover.”
HER WORDS WERE STILL ringing through the air when the carriage was pulled to a halt in front of a newly constructed house.
It was a home any gentleman would be proud to claim.
Built of pale stone, it boasted five bays with a central bowed projection that was most notable for the Venetian glass he had imported for the windows that flanked the double doorway. A sweep of stairs led to the wraparound terrace that overlooked the sunken garden arranged on both sides and the high brick fencing that offered a rare privacy.
For once, Dimitri did not experience the flare of pride at his creation. He was far more intent on scooping the startled Emma into his arms and climbing out of the carriage.
Predictably outraged at being carried through the gate and up the stairs, Emma smacked his chest, a stormy flush bringing welcome color to her cheeks.
“Have you taken leave of your senses?” She continued with her futile assault. “Put me down.”
Dimitri crossed the terrace, smiling as the door was pushed open to reveal a broad man with the corded muscles of a laborer and the weathered features of a sailor. Hardly a typical butler, despite the distinguished mane of silver hair. In truth, Rurik looked exactly what he was. A pirate. And nothing could make him appear respectable. Not even the uniform Dimitri insisted he wear.
Dimitri shrugged. He had done his best to prevent panic among the neighbors.
“Caught a feisty one, eh?” Rurik demanded, a curious glint in his blue eyes. Dimitri had never brought a woman to this house.
“Not intentionally,” Dimitri gritted, entering the marble foyer and headed directly toward the massive cedar staircase that had been hand carved. “Now I must decide what is to be done with her.”
“The dungeon is currently empty,” Rurik offered.
Dimitri smiled down at the furious woman tucked in his arms.
“A temptation I must admit, but for the moment I will content myself with an undisturbed privacy. Would you ensure that dinner is prepared and kept warm in the kitchen?”
“Of course.”
Emma’s eyes widened as she turned her head to watch Rurik stride toward the back of the house.
“Wait.” She jerked back to meet his amused expression as Rurik disappeared. “I see you have your servants trained to ignore the pleas of the poor women you kidnap.”
Dimitri climbed the stairs, fully enjoying the sensation of Emma cradled in his arms.
“Rurik needed no training. He was a pirate who terrorized the seas until he was captured by the French during the war.”
“If he was captured then what is he doing here?”
He reached the upper landing and headed directly for the main saloon.
“I take exception to fine Russian citizens being tortured by that French imposter.”
She made a choked sound of disbelief. “You snuck into Napoleon’s prison?”
“There are few men more loyal than those who have been rescued from the guillotine. And, of course, his wife happens to be the finest cook in the empire. When she promised her services in exchange for her husband’s freedom I could not resist.”
Her eyes narrowed, obviously suspecting the danger Dimitri had risked sneaking into the brutal French prison despite his nonchalant tone. Thankfully, her probing questions died on her lips as he stepped into the long saloon.
A tiny gasp escaped her as she studied the coved ceiling with gilded rosettes that framed the line of crystal chandeliers. The walls were covered in emerald satin panels with marble columns set between the high arched windows. The furniture had been purchased from the finest Russian craftsmen as had the parquet floor that was inlaid with cherry and teak. In all, it was a room that spoke of refined elegance.