Scoundrel's Honor (Russian Connection 3)

“And this is the letter of introduction I promised. I have written to Leonida, so I trust she will have ensured there will be someone awaiting you at the London docks, but in the event you find yourself in need, you can use this to call upon assistance from the Russian Embassy.”

Emma unsteadily tucked the envelope into the pocket of her cloak. Seated across from her, Vanya appeared to be yet another useless lady of society with her teal merino gown and pale fur shawl wrapped about her shoulders. But she had proven to be a woman with intelligence and compassion and an ability to take command when necessary. Emma could only hope she did not disappoint the older woman.

“This is so much more than I ever expected.” She bit her bottom lip as she struggled to hold back a ridiculous urge to weep. “I do not know what to say.”

Vanya leaned forward to gently pat Emma’s knee that was currently hidden beneath several yards of brown wool.

“You do not always have to depend on yourself, Emma,” she implored. “Accepting help from others does not make you weak.”

Emma frowned, puzzled by the woman’s peculiar manner. “I am accustomed to taking care of myself.”

“As was I, but I have discovered that my independence was not nearly so threatened as I feared it would be when I opened my heart to another.” She appeared as if she desired to say more, but as they both caught sight of the large man attired in the rough clothing of a common sailor, she instead settled back in the leather seat. “I believe this young man is here to assist with your bags and to escort you to the ship.”

Emma sucked in a deep breath, refusing to acknowledge the flutters of fear in the pit

of her stomach.

“I will never forget what you have done for me.”

“Hmm.” Vanya shook her head. “I am not entirely certain that is a good thing.”

“Vanya?”

“Just know that I have tried to do what I think best for you.”

“Of course, I know. I could not have asked for a greater friend.”

The door to the carriage was pulled open by Vanya’s driver and without giving herself time to hesitate, she allowed herself to be assisted into the chill morning breeze.

“Be brave, mon enfant,” Vanya called softly.

CHAPTER NINE

DIMITRI IGNORED THE shifting deck beneath his feet as he poured over the charts his first mate had spread across the bench.

It was not his first journey aboard his sleek Baltimore clipper. He occasionally felt the need to escape from the grinding demands of his role as Beggar Czar. There were few things more exhilarating than skimming across the water, surrounded by silence, and knowing that his duties were being left far behind.

Not that he had made such a large investment for the rare days of freedom. He was a businessman first and foremost. The ship had been built in the Americas to be the fastest on the waters and his crew had been hired in London from among the finest of all English seamen. As a result, he had made a small fortune in transporting various diplomats, noblemen, and even a few wealthy merchants who preferred to keep their travels confidential.

Which made it perfect for his current plans.

A grim smile curved his lips at the sound of approaching footsteps, and turning his head he waited for the large sailor with a thatch of black hair and weathered features to halt in front of him.

“Is our passenger aboard?” he demanded.

Andrew Simmons scowled, his hands shoved into the pockets of his wool coat.

“Safely stowed in her cabin as you ordered.”

Dimitri narrowed his gaze. “You have no need to remind me that you disapprove of having a female aboard the ship.”

“Every sailor knows a wench is bad luck.”

Although several stones lighter than the hulking sailor, Dimitri stepped forward, his hand deliberately caressing the handle of his dagger he had tucked into the waistband of his breeches.

“Andrew, allow me to offer a warning that you will share with the rest of the crew,” he said with a lethal softness.

The man blanched. “Aye, sir?”