Scoundrel's Honor (Russian Connection 3)

“This is for the best, Emma,” he assured her as the carriage jerked into motion.

She clenched her hands in her lap, cursing the day she had ever encountered Dimitri Tipova.

“And what if it were your sister being held captive by ruthless beasts who intend to auction her to the highest bidder? Would you meekly return to your home and hope she be rescued?”

Stefan’s expression gentled in understanding.

“I have been forced to swallow my pride and accept that another might possess the skills I lacked to confront a particular danger.” He reached across to lightly touch her cheek. “You must trust Dimitri.”

She turned to glare out the window, her heart aching with disappointment.

She had already put her trust in Dimitri. Naive fool that she was. Even when she had sensed that his lust for revenge was greater than his affection for her.

“Dimitri is driven by his need to punish his father,” she said tightly. “He will sacrifice Anya if it ensures the humiliation of Count Nevskaya.”

Unable to deny the truth of her words, Stefan heaved a sigh.

“Then trust my servants. They will not allow the girls to be taken from London.”

“I trust no one but myself.”

“Emma—”

“Please, no more lectures, Your Grace,” she warned in raw tones.

A tense silence filled the air as they rumbled their way through the London streets to Mayfair. More than once Emma considered the desperate notion of trying to leap from the carriage and make her way back to the warehouse only to dismiss such foolishness.

Not only was it quite likely that the fall would break her neck, but she would not be allowed to go more than a few steps before Stefan’s burly grooms would have her captured.

Arriving at the imposing town house, Stefan kept a tight grip on her arm as he escorted her into the elegant vestibule.

“My staff will be warned that you are not to leave the grounds,” he declared in rueful tones.

Emma tilted her chin. “Then I am your prisoner?”

“My guest who I intend to protect, with or without your blessing.”

“You must do as you think best.” Turning on her heel, she headed for the nearby stairs. “As will I.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

THE BLUSH OF DAWN BARELY painted the sky when Emma heard the key being turned in her lock.

After being imprisoned in her bedchamber by the Duke of Huntley, she had spent the long night pacing the floor, dividing her time between cursing Dimitri Tipova for treating her as if she were a blundering idiot and praying that he swiftly returned with her sister.

How dare he send her away when she had traveled halfway around the world to find Anya? And how dare he put his need for revenge before the young girls who were at the mercy of those despicable animals?

As the hours had passed, her anger had swelled until she was trembling with the need to escape from her lavish prison. She had been taking care of herself for a number of years and she did not appreciate having her hard-earned independence snatched away.

So perhaps it was understandable that when the door slid open to reveal the foreign gentleman who had kidnapped her during Sir Jergens’s soiree she did not scream. Or even attempt to race past him into the hall. Instead, she watched in weary curiosity as he offered a smooth bow.

“May I enter?”

“I…” She licked her lips, struggling to force her foggy brain to think clearly. A voice in the back of her mind warned that honest gentlemen did not sneak through a duke’s town house and approach a maiden in her private chambers. But it was a voice she ignored as she met his steady black gaze. “Yes.”

He hovered in the doorway, a faint smile curving his lips. “If you would be so kind as to close the curtains?”

“Why?”