Emma shook her head, hunching her shoulders against the tide of sick betrayal.
“She was with one of the guards,” she said. “They are supposedly on their way to Austria.”
Rajih stilled, clearly sensing her distress. “Do you want me to send my guards after them?”
“No, she had made her choice.”
“Emma—”
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Emma pulled out of his comforting arms and tilted her chin. Now was no time to fret over her sister’s astounding selfishness. Not when Dimitri was depending upon her.
“Please, Rajih, I do need your assistance, but not for Anya,” she pleaded softly.
“What do you need?”
“Dimitri has been taken captive by Muhammad Ali Pasha’s guards. We must free him.”
A thick silence filled the courtyard as Rajih considered her confession, then slowly he folded his arms over his chest.
“Tell me what happened.”
As concisely as possible she revealed their carriage ride from the brothel to the mosque and Valik’s refusal to release her. She briefly faltered as she described Dimitri’s attack on the horrid man. There would not be a night when she was not haunted by the vivid image of Dimitri being shot, not knowing for an agonizing moment whether he was alive or dead.
With effort she gathered her composure and finished explaining Dimitri’s dire situation, emphasizing the very large and heavily armed guards who had been rapidly approaching.
Once she was finished, Rajih turned to pace through the perfumed shadows of the courtyard, his expression impossible to read.
“How badly is he injured?”
“The shot was to his shoulder, but I fear the bullet may still be in the wound and he lost a great deal of blood.”
“Do not fear,” he muttered absently. “The pasha has a number of healers.”
She snorted. “If Josef will let them near.”
Rajih halted, turning to regard her with a warning gaze. “The choice will not be his to make.”
A shiver inched down Emma’s spine. There was an edge in his voice that sharply reminded her that they were in a foreign country with its own laws and traditions. For the moment, Dimitri and Josef were at the complete mercy of the pasha.
“Is Dimitri in danger?”
“I am not entirely certain.” Rajih thankfully knew her well enough to speak the truth. In this moment she could not bear to be treated as if she were a mindless, shrinking violet in need of tender care. “The pasha will not be pleased that a foreigner committed murder on the streets for all to see.”
“But Valik was a slave trader, not to mention he was holding me hostage,” she protested.
“True, but the officials prefer that such matters be dealt with discreetly.” Rajih grimaced. “The pasha possesses a dislike for explaining violent deaths of the foreign consuls.”
Emma possessed a small measure of sympathy for the ruler. His country was too often at the mercy of invaders. He could not risk offending potential allies.
That did not mean, however, she would meekly stand aside and allow Dimitri to become a sacrifice to his political weakness.
She stepped forward and laid a hand on Rajih’s forearm. “Can you speak with the pasha and convince him that Dimitri is innocent?”
The dark eyes lowered to study her fingers that lay against the fine fabric of his jacket, a mysterious smile curving his lip
s.
“I could, but it would hardly be to my benefit,” he murmured.