“Not a fool.” Boris clapped a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You would have regretted letting her go without a fight.”
“And yet I still lost her.”
Boris frowned at Stefan’s harsh tone. “Perhaps in time she will come to her senses and realize she can’t survive without you.”
The memory of Leonida’s obstinate expression as she had walked away from him seared through his mind.
“Perhaps,” he muttered, knowing even as the word left his mouth it was never to be.
The knowledge was a festering wound in the center of his heart.
Stepping back, Boris waved a hand toward the dock that was now nearly empty.
“We must go.”
“Of course.” Commanding his reluctant feet to carry him forward, Stefan was abruptly spinning back toward his carriage as he heard the sound of horse hooves thundering in his direction. His breath squeezed from his lungs as he easily recognized the rider. “What the devil?”
Boris grudgingly moved to stand at his side. “What is it?”
“Pyotr.”
Boris grabbed his arm. “Huntley, we have no time to waste.” He muttered a curse as Stefan wrenched his arm free and headed directly for the Russian groom who was dismounting from his winded horse. “Huntley.”
Ignoring his companion’s attempt to halt him, Stefan stalked to stand directly before Pyotr.
“What are you doing here?”
“Is Leonida with you?” the servant demanded, not bothering to disguise his alarm.
Stefan frowned. Why the devil would the man think Leonida was with him? Unless…
She was missing.
A stark, savage fear gripped Stefan’s heart.
“No.”
“I had hoped…” The man shook his head, already turning back toward his horse. “No matter. Bon voyage, Huntley.”
Stefan grabbed the back of the groom’s jacket, yanking him around to meet his scorching gaze.
“Dammit, Pyotr, tell me what has happened to Leonida.”
“I don’t know,” the man reluctantly admitted. “She was in the garden, obviously upset after your visit. I checked on her several times, but when I returned to bring her a tea tray she was gone.”
Stefan’s heart refused to beat. He knew Leonida too well to believe she would wander off without telling Pyotr of her destination. Not when she was well aware that her faithful servant would panic the moment he discovered her missing.
Christ. Sir Charles obviously had survived his wounds. And now he had Leonida.
“Why the hell did you ever leave her alone?” he rasped.
Pyotr attempted to disguise his sense of guilt behind a fierce scowl.
“It was obvious she desired her privacy. Besides, I was close enough to hear if she cried out.”
“And you truly imagine a madman would allow her the opportunity to scream for help?”
Pyotr leaned forward, stabbing Stefan with an accusing glare. “It was not me who left her crying alone in the garden.”