There was the sound of footsteps on the narrow flight of stairs. Leonida’s heart plunged as Sir Charles came into view, attired in a pristine gray coat and a mocking sneer on his lips.
“Ah, I hope I do not intrude?”
Leonida smoothed her expression, not willing to give the man the satisfaction of witnessing her fear.
“Not at all.”
“Good. Then perhaps you will join me downstairs for a light luncheon?”
Her heart missed a painful beat. Dear God. Had her mother paid the ransom? Was this the end?
“I am not hungry.”
The frigid eyes narrowed at her small defiance. “It was not a request, Miss Karkoff.”
A small movement from Pyotr warned Leonida that her groom was about to do something stupid. Hastily she moved to put herself between the nobleman and her servants.
“Very well.” She tilted her chin. “May I have a few minutes to tidy myself?”
“Vanity, thy name is woman,” Sir Charles mocked, his gaze flicking dismissively over her bedraggled form. “You have five minutes to make your appearance downstairs before I send Josef to fetch you. Trust me, you would not care for his methods.”
There was a tense silence as the nobleman offered a sardonic bow and turned on his heel to leave the attic.
Watching his departure, Leonida’s mind churned with desperation. She had to do something. Her pride would not allow her to go down without a fight.
“What do you suppose he wants?” Sophy said, her voice shaking with fear.
“I haven’t the least notion, but it cannot be good.” Leonida abruptly motioned toward the maid. “Help me out of this gown, Sophy.”
“What are you doing?” Sophy demanded, reluctantly moving to unbutton the back of Leonida’s black crepe gown.
Leonida ignored the sound of Pyotr’s choked cough and the shuffle of his feet as he hastily turned his back on them.
“No doubt it is a waste of effort, but I must feel as if I am at least making some attempt.”
Leonida shimmied out of the gown and hastily loosened her corset. Her shift followed the rest of the clothes to the dusty floor. Then, much to Sophy’s puzzlement, she tugged the corset back into place and pulled on her dress, waiting for the maid to refasten the buttons.
Snatching the shift off the ground, Leonida crossed to the narrow window that overlooked the front of the house. Pyotr had earlier shoved open the sash to allow a fresh breeze into the stuffy attic, and leaning through the opening, Leonida hung the shift on a nail protruding from the window frame.
Standing at her side, Sophy frowned in concern. “What if one of the guards sees it?”
Leonida shrugged. “They are all careful to remain out of sight of the road. Besides, I can always say I was
hed it and hung it out to dry.”
“You think someone will take notice of it?”
“Not with my luck, but it is all I can think of at the moment.”
Leonida’s gaze shifted to the empty path. Even if a miracle did happen and someone passed the cottage there was little hope they would be curious enough at the sight of the shift to investigate. Her only hope was that if someone were actually searching for her and her servants they would catch a glimpse of the undergarment and realize the cottage was not empty.
Without warning the image of Stefan’s lean, beautiful face rose to mind.
He had claimed he would not allow her to escape him. That he would follow her no matter how far she ran. Was it possible that he could still be searching for her? Could he reach her before Sir Charles had his money and decided to dispose of her?
With an angry shake of her head, Leonida attempted to dismiss the faint surge of hope that filled her heart.
What man in his right mind would chase after a woman who had lied to him, stolen from him, drugged him and nearly caused his death?