Dimitri turned back toward his companion, his expression grim.
“Not entirely.”
“Ah.” Huntley gave a nod of comprehension. “Anya.”
“Your servants have been searching through the stews, but thus far they have found nothing.”
“That is unfortunate.”
Dimitri’s sharp laugh echoed through the room. “It is more than unfortunate. Emma will hold me responsible if we do not find her sister.”
Huntley offered a smile of sympathy, wise enough not to bother with absurd assurances that Emma would understand Dimitri was only doing what was best for her. They both knew the woman could not be reasonable when it came to her sister.
“They cannot hide forever, and I assure you that I have the roads leading from London being watched,” he promised. “They will not slip past my guards.”
“And the docks?”
With a shrug, the duke moved to pour himself a glass of brandy. “I have sent word that anyone seeking passage for a number of young ladies is to be detained.”
Dimitri’s brows snapped together. “Huntley, men who are in the smuggling trade do not purchase tickets.”
“Perhaps not as a rule, but those men had no plans to flee London without notice. It is not a simple matter to arrange for a ship willing to sail with illegal cargo.”
“True enough,” Dimitri grudgingly conceded, still far from satisfied.
There were a large number of captains willing to turn a blind eye to smuggled goods with the proper incentive, but there were only a handful who were willing to dabble in the slave trade. It would surely take Valik a few days to arrange passage out of England.
Unless…
The flask dropped from his hand, the fine vodka spilling across the Persian carpet.
Huntley stepped toward him with a frown. “Tipova?”
“It is a simple matter if there is already a ship waiting,” he gritted.
“What?”
“The Katherine Marie.”
Huntley’s eyes widened. “Bloody hell.”
“Well, I hope the two of you are pleased with yourself.”
As one they both turned to head toward the door, only to be halted as Leonida swept into the room, appearing remarkably beautiful in an ivory morning gown trimmed with sable and her golden hair artfully curled, but it was the angry flush on her cheeks and the tears glittering in her eyes that captured Dimitri’s attention.
“Darling, now is not the best time…” Huntley began, then paused as his wife pointed a finger directly in his face.
“She is gone.”
An icy dread sliced through Dimitri. “What did you say?”
Leonida turned to glare in his direction, her expression one of furious accusation.
“Since I refuse to starve my guests while they are being held as a prisoner beneath my roof I had a breakfast tray prepared,” she hissed. “When I entered Emma’s room I discovered her bed had not been slept in and that her belongings were missing. She is gone and you have no one to blame but yourself.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
EMMA STOOD AT THE BOW of the ship, watching the dancing waves that shimmered the color of mercury in the sunlight. In the distance, the coast of Alexandria was drawing ever closer, making her shiver at the exotic silhouettes of domes and obelisks that stood starkly against the vivid blue sky. Dear Lord, had she been a fool to come here?