Scoundrel's Honor (Russian Connection 3)

She hastily stepped away from his disturbing touch. “Why have you come to London?”

He studied her for a long moment, the dark eyes glittering with a wicked anticipation that sent a shiver of unease down her spine. Then, with a shrug, he paced toward the fireplace and leaned against the marble mantel.

“I will not bore you with the long and ofttimes tragic history of my country, but suffice it to say that we at last possess a powerful viceroy who is prepared to embrace the future rather than to smother us in the past,” he said, reaching beneath his jacket to pull out a lacquered snuff box. His brows lifted as he caught Emma’s sudden flare of amusement. “Why do you smile?”

Emma sank onto one of the sofas, weary after her endless night of pacing.

“You are obviously of the desert and yet there is something oddly English about you.”

“Ah.” With a practiced motion he flipped open the box and took a small pinch of the snuff, placing it neatly on his wrist before bending his head to inhale the perfumed tobacco. He returned the box to his pocket and met Emma’s small smile. “My father sent me to school here when I was just twelve. He believed, as the pasha does, that a closer connection to the West is vital for our survival. I lived in this country until my father’s death six years ago.”

That certainly explained his ease with the English language.

“Then you are a diplomat?”

“When the occasion demands.” He shrugged, his expression somber. “On this journey, however, my purpose is to bring to an end an ancient practice that has been a blight on my country’s reputation.”

“I fear I do not comprehend.”

“The slave trade.”

“Oh.” She shook her head in confusion. “I thought…”

His eyes narrowed as she broke off her hasty words.

“You thought we were all savages who were so desperate for soft white flesh that we encourage the infidels to peddle their females in our markets?”

She wrinkled her nose, accepting she was very much in the wrong. How often she had to hide her outrage when she had overheard herself being referred to as a Russian savage? It was shameful that she would offer the same obtuse assumption.

“Forgive me.”

He held up a slender hand, his expression rueful. “No, it is I who begs your forgiveness, Emma. For too long our corrupt officials have turned a blind eye to the traffickers. The pasha, however, seeks to improve our relationship with England as well as the Continent and he has made a vow to bar the peddling of females in our markets.”

She nodded in sympathy. Despite the best efforts of the Romanovs, much of Russia still remained mired in the past. Change was never a simple matter for people to embrace, even when it might be for their own good.

“Does this have something to do with my sister?”

“I believe so. During the past few years I have noticed a number of Russian whores in the brothels of Cairo. I, of course, began my search for those responsible in Russia. You can imagine my frustration when I could discover no evidence of ships carrying unwilling females to Cairo.”

Emma was quick to realize the truth. “Because they were traveling to England.”

A pleased smile curved his lips, as if she had somehow fulfilled his expectation.

“You are intelligent as well as beautiful,” he murmured. “Yes, the girls are taken from Russia to London and sold for the private pleasure of wealthy Englishmen. Eventually the men become weary of their trinket and wish to be rid of her with as little fuss as possible.”

She ignored the sick dread in her stomach. If she allowed herself to dwell on all the horrible tortures that Anya might be enduring she would go stark raving mad.

Instead, she concentrated on the caliph’s unexpected information.

It appeared that Dimitri had underestimated his father once again. They had assumed that once the Russian girls had been sold to the English roués that they would eventually be left in a local brothel. But if the caliph was right…

Dear Lord, she had to find Anya.

Emma surged to her feet, her hands trembling as she pushed back the thick curls that tumbled about her shoulders.

“You suspect they are taken to Cairo?”

His hooded gaze seared over her pale face before lowering to her slender body.