“Forgive me, sir.”
With a guttural growl of frustration, Sir Charles shoved Leonida away.
“How dare you interrupt me?”
Lifting a hand to her bruised throat, Leonida struggled to breathe as Josef stood before Sir Charles without flinching.
He was either incredibly brave or as insane as his master.
“I thought you should know that Mikhail and Karl have disappeared,” the scarred servant said, his voice devoid of emotion.
“Absurd,” Sir Charles snapped. “They are no doubt hunting. Or more likely, lying drunk in the stables. Worthless peasants.”
“They were supposed to be on guard duty, but when I checked on them I discovered they were not only missing, but they had taken their belongings and two horses.”
Sir Charles stiffened, enraged by the suspicion of treachery among his serfs.
“Bloody hell. I will speak with Vladimir.” He waved a dismissive hand toward the still gasping Leonida. “Return the bitch to the attics.”
Josef dipped his head. “Of course.”
With a profound sense of relief, Leonida watched as Sir Charles left the room, absolutely certain that she had just been saved from certain death.
Not that she was foolish enough to believe that it was more than a temporary reprieve. Sir Charles was convinced he would soon have his ransom payment from her mother and he had no need to rein in his perverted desire to watch her die.
Once he had dealt with his renegade guards, he would finish what he had begun.
Indifferent to her impending demise, Josef waved a hand toward the door.
“This way.”
She took a step forward, knowing it would be futile to plead with the man to release her and her servants. Although he had always been polite, he had made it obvious he would not hesitate to kill her if it suited his mood. Then, as she was passing the table, she abruptly halted.
“May I take some food to my servants?” she asked, her throat so tender she could barely speak. “They are no doubt starving by now.”
Josef shrugged. “If you wish.”
“Thank you.”
Gathering the platter of duck, Leonida shifted so she stood between Josef and the table, using one hand to grab the bowl of stewed apples even as her other hand reached for the knife. Placing it on the platter, she piled the pancakes on top, covering the weapon.
At last she turned, her heart thundering as she braced herself to meet Josef’s narrowed gaze.
Had he seen? Did he know she had the knife?
Braced for the evil-faced servant to strike, Leonida was unprepared for the mysterious smile that curved his lips.
“After you, Miss Karkoff.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
HALTING AT YET ANOTHER remote village, Stefan waited for Boris to return from the local pub. He cast an indifferent gaze over the wooden shops huddled along the rough path. It looked remarkably like every other village they had passed through over the past three days.
Poor, grim and unwelcoming.
Not even the afternoon sunlight could soften the bleak atmosphere.
Alexander Pavlovich’s attempts at reformation had faltered beneath the unyielding refusal of his fellow noblemen and the constant threat of uprisings, leaving his people to suffer the consequences. Stefan knew it was only a matter of time before the smoldering resentment among the common peasants festered into something truly dangerous.