Bound by Love (21 page)

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.”

H
ALTING 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.

Sipping the brandy from his flask, Stefan was cataloguing his various aches and pains, including his bullet wound that was slowly healing, when the sound of an approaching horse had him turning his head in surprise.

“That was swift,” he said as Boris halted beside him.

The servant shrugged, his face as haggard as Stefan felt. The past three days with little sleep and hard riding were beginning to take their toll on the both of them.

“There was no need to linger.”

“Why?”

“I had barely stepped into the taproom when I overheard several locals complaining about a band of ruffians who had been poaching on their lands over the past few days.”

Stefan tempered the biting relief that raced through him. The ruffians sounded promising, but the Russian countryside was plagued with brigands. There was no certainty these were the men he sought.

“Do they know where the poachers were staying?”

“One farmer mentioned an abandoned cottage north of the village.”

“Have they searched the place?”

“No.” Boris snorted at Stefan’s startled glance. “The land belongs to the local Count. Why would they risk their necks battling a potential gang of cutthroats for an arrogant landowner who hasn’t the least concern for them?”

Stefan swallowed his words of protest. It was impossible for him to imagine his own tenants allowing a band of poachers to roam about his land. Of course, he had always considered his tenants members of his family, not meaningless property to be used for his own profit.

“And the Count?”

“Partaking of the delights in the Summer Palace.”

“How far are we from St. Petersburg?”

Boris studied the village, his brow furrowed as he calculated the distance.

“A day’s hard ride.”

Stefan shook his head. “Why would they linger in such an isolated place when they could easily become lost among the crowds of the city?”

“They hold one of the most well-known ladies in all of St. Petersburg. She would be recognized by even the most humble servant.”

“Of course.” Stefan sighed. He must be more tired than he realized. A female with Leonida’s notorious parents, not to mention her stunning beauty, would be easily recognized in St. Petersburg. He impatiently urged his horse to a trot. “Come. I want to see these poachers for myself.”

They had traveled a mile or so along the path when Boris slowed his horse and frowned at the thickening woods.

“Perhaps we should avoid the road,” he suggested, his voice pitched low. “If these are the men we are seeking they will be on guard.”

Stefan briefly considered. There would be a danger in moving through the dense trees. They could stumble across an enemy before they ever realized they were near. And there was the frustrating knowledge that it would take considerably longer to locate the cottage.

Then again, the bastards were certain to keep a watch on the road. The only chance to approach without warning would be to use the trees as cover.

“I suppose you have a point,” he muttered, urging his horse off the path.

Boris grinned as he followed. “For a duke you can be right sensible on occasion.”

“What would I do without you, Boris?” Stefan demanded wryly.

“Perhaps you could whisper in your brother’s ear just how valuable a servant I have proven to be.”

They eased cautiously through the undergrowth, Stefan’s attention on full alert. There were more things to be feared than ruffians.

Tigers, and even bears, were known to attack unwary travelers.

“Do not fear, I shall make certain that Edmond is compelled to pay you an exorbitant sum for your assistance.” He smiled as he thought of his brother’s rapid transformation from rake to domesticated husband. “There are few things I love more than reminding my brother that he is now a staid landowner with numerous responsibilities.”

“While you are now the one seeking adventure?”

Stefan blinked at the unexpected accusation. “Not by choice, I assure you. I have never possessed Edmond’s love for danger.”

Boris slid him a sly glance. “I think you are more alike than you realize, your Grace.”

“Of course we’re alike. We are twins, for God’s sake. Most people cannot tell the two of us apart.” He briefly recalled tormenting his nurses and tutors over the years. “A fact that was great fun when we were young.”

“I meant your refusal to allow anything to stand in your path once you have set your mind upon a particular lady.”

Stefan frowned. “I do not allow a thief to steal from me and escape my justice.”

“Hmm.” Boris appeared skeptical.

Not particularly surprising. The words rang empty even to Stefan. No man, and especially not a duke, chased a woman from England to St. Petersburg because she might have taken something from his estate.

“Do you have a point?”

Boris shrugged. “What will you do with Miss Karkoff if we manage to rescue her?”

“When
we rescue her,” Stefan growled.

“As you say. Do you intend to return her to St. Petersburg?”

Stefan shifted in his saddle, annoyed by the question. What he did with Leonida was no one’s concern but his own. She belonged to him.

That was the end of the matter.

“One problem at a time,
mon ami
.”

Ignoring the warning in Stefan’s tone, Boris regarded him with a somber expression.

“I feel compelled to remind you that she is not a penniless serf. Her very powerful and very influential family would take grave insult if she were kept from them.”

“They sent Leonida to me. They have no one to blame but themselves if I decide not to return her.”

“Your Grace…”

“The future will hardly matter if we stumble into a trap,” Stefan growled. “Perhaps we should concentrate on the task at hand?”

Boris ground his teeth, but he was wise enough not
to press Stefan. Instead he returned his attention to scanning the nearby trees, leaving Stefan to stew in his frustration.

He was not so lost to reason that he did not understand that Leonida was a respectable maiden with a family who were powerful enough to offer her protection.

That did not mean, however, he was prepared to play the noble gentleman and simply hand her back to their care.

They had unfinished business.

Until he was satisfied, she was staying with him.

They traveled in silence for several moments, then through the trees, Stefan caught sight of a low stable and just beyond a crumbling cottage set in a small clearing.

“There is a cottage ahead,” he whispered, vaulting from his saddle. “Tie the horses here. I want to circle around before we approach.”

Boris swiftly had the horses secured, pulling a loaded pistol from his coat pocket.

“Remain here. I will make certain there are no guards hidden among the trees.”

Stefan sighed as he pulled out his own weapon. “I do wish you would rid yourself of this habit of treating me as if I am a feeble old woman.”

“And I wish you would remember you are a duke. It is not your place to be confronting common brutes.”

“Surely I should be allowed to determine my place?” Stefan protested, taking the lead as he threaded his way through the dense woods. This was his ridiculous notion. He would be the one to suffer the consequences.

“You are determined to have me gelded,” Boris muttered.

“Take heart, Boris, you will no doubt be killed by our ruffians long before you ever suffer such a hideous fate.”

“That is my only hope.”

Taking a path that would lead them around the clearing, Stefan kept his gaze trained on the cottage, searching for any hint that the place was not as abandoned as it appeared.

His heart was beginning to sink as they reached the front of the property.

Surely there should be some signal of the ruffians? Guards posted to keep watch. Smoke from the chimney…

Abruptly he halted in his tracks, blinking at the sight of the white garment flapping from the attic window.

“What the devil?”

“It looks like a woman’s undergarment.”

His brief discouragement was forgotten as a surge of hope tingled through his body.

“I need to get closer.”

“For God’s sake, be careful.”

Reaching the very edge of the clearing, Stefan released his breath on a hiss, easily recognizing the pretty blue bows that ran along the hem of the shift.

“My clever Leonida,” he breathed. “She is here.”

“How can you be so certain?” Boris demanded, then his expression cleared as he noted Stefan’s wicked smile. “Oh.”

“Precisely.” Returning his attention to the cottage, Stefan studied the shabby disuse that shrouded the building. “It is odd.”

Boris crept to his side. “What?”

“The maid at the hotel mentioned six to ten ruffians. Surely they cannot all be within such a small cottage?”

“There are stables in the back.”

“Where are the guards?” Stefan shook his head, realizing that he would not find the answer to his questions by standing in the trees gawking. “Come.”

Boris muttered a curse, following in Stefan’s wake as he continued his circuit toward the back stables. Stefan ignored his disgruntled companion. It was enough of an effort to resist the urge to charge into the cottage and shoot every bastard who crossed his path.

They had nearly reached the stables, still with no guards in sight, when Boris urgently tugged on his arm.

“Wait,” the servant hissed.

“What is it?”

Boris pointed at the ground. “Blood.”

“No.” Stefan’s knees threatened to buckle, his heart wrenching to a painful halt at the dark red stain that was splattered over the ground. “Dammit, no.”

Boris followed the line of blood leading through the trees, his grim expression revealing he echoed Stefan’s fear.

Barely aware he was moving, Stefan trailed behind his servant, his hands clenched at his sides. He would not believe the blood belonged to Leonida.
Could
not believe it.

Fate would not be so cruel as to allow him to come so close only to fail.

“Here.”

Coming to a halt, Boris bent down and began to brush aside the branches that had been piled among the tangled undergrowth. Stefan struggled to breathe as a rough blanket came into view. It obviously covered two bodies.

Even Boris faltered for a moment before he could reach forward and yank aside the covering. This time Stefan’s knees refused to hold as he sank to the ground, a shattering relief searing through him as he took in the strangers lying in the shallow grave.

“God,” he breathed on a shaky breath.

“Both men,” Boris muttered, his brow furrowed. “And neither one is Miss Karkoff’s groom.”

With his numbing fear fading, Stefan was able to take stock of the dead men.

Both were large and attired in simple peasant garb. He judged them to be younger than himself, but with weathered features that suggested a life of hard work and hard drinking.

His attention shifted to the gory bullet wounds that marred each of their temples. They had both been shot at close range. Which meant they recognized and trusted their killer. Or the assassin managed to catch them unawares.

“Do you suppose these are locals who were foolish enough to approach the cottage? Or did our kidnappers
have a disagreement among themselves?” He murmured his thoughts aloud.

Boris pondered a long moment. “If the kidnappers quarreled, that would explain the lack of guards.”

Stefan rose to his feet and headed back to the clearing. “Let us hope there are a few more bodies littered about the property.”

With a grunt, Boris fell into step beside him. “You intend to enter the cottage?”

A cold, ruthless smile curved Stefan’s lips.

He had just endured sheer hell while he waited to see if it was Leonida lying in that grave. He was done with stealth.

“I not only intend to enter, but I swear I will kill any bastard who stands between me and Leonida.”

L
EONIDA STUDIED THE BULKY
outline of the knife that she had slipped beneath the long sleeve of her gown. It would easily be noticed by anyone who studied her closely, but if she kept her arm pressed to her side, it might go undetected.