“Of course,” Emma said, gently tucking one of her sister’s curls behind her ear. “At least assure me that you are well.”
“I am perfectly well.” Anya pushed Emma aside. “Or I would be if you would stop fussing over me.”
Emma wrapped her arms around her waist, attempting to hide her pain at Anya’s dismissive manner. She did not expect her sister to gush in delight that she had risked her life to come in search of her. Or even to offer a simple gesture of gratitude.
But should Anya not be at least a tad relieved she was no longer alone with the bastards who had kidnapped her?
“I cannot help myself,” Emma said slowly. “I have been frantic to find you since you left Yabinsk.”
“Well, as you can see, I am fine.”
“Yes, I suppose so.” Emma shook her head, accepting her sister’s words. Which allowed her to turn her thoughts to the question that had plagued her since she had discovered her sister missing. “Anya, why did you…”
“You know why I left, Emma,” Anya interrupted the hesitant question, pacing the small space with jerky steps. “You might have been content being an eccentric spinster who everyone mocks behind your back, but I would rather die than be cursed with your fate.”
Emma winced at the brutal description. “I never expected you to share my fate. There is no reason you cannot wed a decent man and have a home and family of your own.”
“A decent man?” Anya tossed her head, her golden curls shimmering in the lamplight. “You mean Boris Glavori who buried his first wife after forcing a dozen children on her? Or perhaps the butcher who came to call on me with blood beneath his nails?”
“Surely anything would be preferable to being taken captive by slave traders?”
“You know nothing.”
Emma shook her head in growing confusion. “Then explain it to me.”
Anya hunched her shoulders, refusing to meet Emma’s gaze. “It is true that Count Tarvek and his brother proved to be hideous creatures who should be beheaded without delay. I do not comprehend how they could ever claim to be gentlemen.”
“I assure you they will soon reap their just rewards,” Emma promised.
“But not all the men in their employ are evil.”
Emma froze, a sense of dread lodging in her heart. “What are you saying?”
With a sudden movement Anya turned away, heading back toward the curtained doorway.
“You should never have come after me.”
“But you must have known I would.” Emma followed in her sister’s wake, baffled. This was not going at all as she had imagined it would. Where were the other girls? And why was Anya behaving as if Emma were an unwelcome intruder rather than a savior? “You are my sister. I love you, Anya. I would protect you with my life.”
They entered a room barely as large as a closet with a narrow cot and a chipped washstand. Bending down, Anya yanked a leather satchel from beneath the bed and clutched it to her chest.
“Well, it is because of you that Mikhail and I have not yet managed to escape,” she said. “I can only hope that you have not yet again ruined our plans.”
“Who is Mikhail?”
“One of the guards.” Anya’s chin tilted at Emma’s horrified expression. “He happens to be desperately in love with me.”
“He is a trafficker?” Emma rasped.
Anya sniffed. “I should have known you would find fault without even knowing him.”
Emma itched to grab her sister and give her a violent shake. As relieved as she might be to have at last found her, there was no doubt Anya had not changed a wit. She was still stubborn, impulsive and utterly selfish.
“Have you taken leave of your senses?” she gritted. “My God, he is responsible for kidnapping children and selling them to monsters.”
“He has kept me safe when others would have harmed me and he intends to take me to his home in Austria.”
Emma swallowed her angry words. Why bother? Anya had never listened to anything she had to say before. And perhaps she should try and consider what her sister had endured.