Bound by Love (Russian Connection 2)

His hands clenched at his sides as an agonizing remorse pierced him. He did not need Pyotr to point out the obvious.

He should never have left her. Not when he knew there was a possibility that Sir Charles might still be alive and in a mood for revenge.

Bloody hell. He should not have left her regardless of Sir Charles.

It had been his wounded pride that made him storm from the garden. He had offered Leonida all he possessed an

d she had flatly rejected him. Or at least, that was what he had told himself.

So you intend to force my hand…

Stefan winced as he recalled his mocking words. Christ. It was no wonder she had attempted to slap his face.

Edmond would laugh to know how he had bungled his first proposal. Especially since Stefan rarely allowed his brother to forget his clumsy pursuit of Brianna.

Looking back he realized that he’d felt as if he were being manipulated into a declaration against his will. Only now could he accept that he had simply been…terrified. The answer to his proposal had mattered far too much, so he had treated it as if it did not matter at all.

And had received precisely what he deserved.

Vanya had tried to tell him. To warn him.

Leonida was not a woman who would ever trade her body to grasp position or power. And she most certainly would never be content with a man who could offer no more than a transitory passion.

For God’s sake, she had told him.

I am not my mother…

Without warning Boris was at his side, jerking Stefan out of his bleak thoughts.

“Huntley, we must board,” he said, glaring over his shoulder at the large ship. “The captain is bleating he will leave without you. As if I did not pay the fat pirate three times what the tickets were worth.”

“Leonida is missing,” he said, the very lack of emotion in his voice revealing the depths of his fear.

“Damn.” Boris paused, then cleared his throat. “I thought the woman was no longer our problem?”

“He is right, your Grace,” Pyotr added. “Get on your ship. I will find my mistress.”

“You should not have lost her to begin with,” he snapped.

Boris regarded him with a frown, no doubt wondering if he had surrendered to madness. “Huntley?”

“Christ.” Stefan sucked in a calming breath. He had to think clearly. Leonida’s very life might depend upon him. “Return to England, Boris. Tell Edmond I will return as swiftly as possible.”

Boris threw his hands in the air. “I knew that woman would manage to keep you here.”

Pyotr narrowed his gaze. “Are you implying that this is some ploy to—”

“I don’t imply, Pyotr,” Boris interrupted, using his considerable bulk to loom over the smaller groom. “If I thought Miss Karkoff was attempting some nasty trick I would say so.”

“Enough,” Stefan snapped, his control hanging on by a fragile thread. He glared at the belligerent Russian. “Do you know anything beyond the fact Leonida has disappeared?”

Pyotr shrugged. “One of the maids claimed she saw a black carriage pull away from the mews and a…”

Stefan stepped forward as the man’s words trailed away. “What?”

“She said there was a small man with a face like a rat.”

“That hardly describes Sir Charles.”