Bound by Love (Russian Connection 2)

Stefan assumed his most arrogant expression, a ready lie tumbling from his lips.

“I was traveling to St. Petersburg with my ward, who is young and impulsive and inclined to fits of pique when she does not have her own way.”

The soldier grunted. “Much like any woman.”

“Indeed. This morning we had a rather heated argument when I caught her shamelessly flirting with a mere commoner. When my back was turned she took off with her maid and a groom.”

“An English girl?”

“Russian. A golden-haired female with light blue eyes.” Reaching into the pocket of his coat, Stefan withdrew one of his gilt-edged calling cards. “I would be excessively grateful if you would keep an eye out for her and send word to me if you should stumble across any hint of her.”

“Certainly…” The man’s eyes widened as he read the name scrolled on the card. “Your Grace.”

Stefan once again reached into his pocket, on this occasion pulling out several coins that he smoothly handed to the man.

“My carriage and servants are traveling in the direction of St. Petersburg. They should not be difficult to discover should you have information for me.”

The soldier tucked the card and money beneath his jacket and performed a deep bow.

“You have my word that I will do all in my power to discover the missing girl.”

With a nod, Stefan urged his horse toward the maid still standing beside the stables. Boris soon joined him, his expression revealing he had been blatantly eavesdropping.

“He did not believe your story of a ward,” he unnecessarily pointed out.

“It does not matter. His only interest is receiving a handsome reward for his efforts. It is to be hoped that he will set a few of his men on the search.”

“There will be talk.”

Stefan waved away the certain knowledge that the locals would soon be buzzing with the speculation that the Duke of Huntley was chasing after a Russian beauty.

“What do I care? Leonida must be found.”

“As you say.” Boris reached to grasp Stefan’s arm. “Perhaps I should speak with the maid alone.”

With a vile curse, Stefan wrenched his horse to a halt. Boris was right, of course. Who the devil could have suspected being a duke was such a bother?

“Be quick about it,” he growled, watching as Boris dismounted and moved to speak quietly with the maid, struggling against the near overpowering instinct to charge blindly through the dark in search of Leonida. Dammit. Once he had her back at Meadowland, he was never letting her out of his sight. After several minutes Boris remounted and returned to meet Stefan’s impatient gaze. “Well?”

“She says that anywhere from six to ten men arrived from the south and surrounded the inn,” Boris said, his words concise. “A few remained outside to keep watch, but at least three entered the inn and forced the staff into the kitchens where they were held by a man with a large gun.”

“So she saw nothing?”

“No, but after the men abruptly left, she made an inspection of the premise.”

“What did she discover?”

“She says that a young widow was taken from a private parlor along with her two servants.”

Even prepared, the words hit Stefan like a physical punch to the stomach.

“Damn.”

“She also said that the widow’s chambers had been torn apart, as if someone was searching for a great treasure.”

Grimly, Stefan gathered his composure. The sooner he finished his business here, the sooner he could be searching for Leonida.

“What could she tell you of the men?”