Читать книгу Scoundrel's Honor - Rosemary Rogers - Страница 12

THE MANSION THAT COUNT Fedor Tarvek shared with his younger brother Sergei was not the finest in St. Petersburg. Situated on the banks of the Neva, it had once been a grand structure with an ornate frieze carved over the front entrance and tall windows that overlooked the formal gardens. Unfortunately, time and neglect had stolen the original charm, and there was no hiding the growing shabbiness of the estate.

Slipping silently through the cavernous rooms, a portion of Dimitri deplored the rotting floorboards and the mold marring the once handsome furnishings even as he appreciated the lack of servants. He preferred to invade another’s privacy without interruption.

Intent on his search through the upper bedchambers, he nearly missed the slender man who silently approached the house through the kitchen garden.

With a lift of his brows, Dimitri hurried down the stairs.

He had sent Josef to keep watch on Count Fedor and Sergei, knowing the brothers would attend Czar Alexander’s inspection of his troops that afternoon. They might secretly despise the emperor, and even attempt to undermine his rule when possible, but they dare not publicly ignore his summons.

It seemed the perfect opportunity to discover if the Tarveks were hiding any nasty secrets.

Silently leaving the house by a side door, he gestured toward his servant and headed for the back of the stables, not surprised to discover Josef had hidden his horse next to his own dappled-gray mare in the overgrown bushes.

They had spent a number of years working together. Perhaps too many, he ruefully acknowledged, watching the wiry man round the edge of the stables. They were both reaching an age where they should be considering an occupation that did not include a noose or firing squad.

“That was speedy,” he muttered. “The drills cannot have ended yet.”

“Oleg is keeping watch on Tarvek and his brother.” Josef’s expression was sour. “I thought you would desire to know that Vanya Petrova was among the crowd.”

“Alone?”

“Nyet. She has a young female companion with her.”

Dimitri tensed, telling himself it was anger that made his stomach clench and his heart miss a beat. After all, he had specifically commanded Emma Linley-Kirov to avoid being seen when he had left her at Vanya’s the night before. He had told her he would contact her when he decided what was to be done next.

“A female companion with honey hair and hazel eyes?”

“That is more than a mere man can say.” Josef shook his head in disgust. “She is wearing one of those foolish bonnets that make it damned well impossible to know what’s beneath the tangle of ribbons and feathers, but I would bet my last ruble it’s the dragon from Yabinsk.”

As would Dimitri.

Emma was stubborn enough to flaunt herself beneath the noses of the men who would kill her without hesitation.

“Damn. I’m beginning to believe she was sent to St. Petersburg to punish me for my numerous sins,” he muttered, untying the reins of his horse from the bush. “Come along.”

Josef grimaced, twisting the scar that ran down the side of his face. The disfigurement terrified many, which suited Josef, but Dimitri knew he had received the wound protecting his sister from his drunken mother.

“I will remain and search the house.”

“That will not be necessary. There are no females being held hostage in the cellar or convenient map to reveal their location. Although…”

Deliberately allowing his words to trail away, Dimitri mounted his horse and headed toward the narrow lane that led out of the estate. He knew his companion’s curiosity would overcome his reluctance to mix among the nobles.

There was a muttered curse, then the sound of scrambling as Josef retrieved his horse and urged the beast to match Dimitri’s steady pace.

“What did you find?”

Dimitri reached beneath the black multicaped coat he had chosen to cover his plain attire and riding boots. With a crowned beaver hat pulled low on his forehead and a heavy muffler wrapped around his lower face he was impossible to recognize. Even his stocky mare was unremarkable.

Being a successful criminal meant blending into the background when necessary.

“I found this in Tarvek’s bedchamber,” he said, pulling out a folded piece of parchment and handing it to his companion.

“Katherine Marie,” Josef read out loud. “Friday at noon.” He glanced toward Dimitri with a frown. “An assignation, no doubt.”

“Quite possible,” Dimitri readily agreed, urging his horse into a trot as they reached the paved street leading toward the Winter Palace. “But I recall finding a similar message in Pytor Burdzecki’s desk.”

Josef easily kept pace. “Katherine is a common enough name.”

Which was precisely why Dimitri had dismissed Burdzecki’s note as inconsequential. The aging roué was known to keep several mistresses, not to mention the brothels he visited on a regular basis.

“Yes, but for both gentlemen to have an assignation on the same day, at the same time, with a woman with the same name defies the odds.”

“You suspect this Katherine is a female they have abducted?”

“Or intend to abduct.”

Josef was swift to realize the importance of Dimitri’s words. “Then we can follow them. If they do snatch a female they will have to take her to their hidden lair.”

Dimitri nodded, his expression grim as the traffic thickened and he was forced to slow his pace.

“That was my thought, as well. We need to keep a close guard on the men we suspect are involved with my father.”

They traveled in silence as they weaved through the elegant carriages and small groups of pedestrians who were battling to make their way to the Palace Square. It was not that the crowds possessed an interest in the military drills or the poor soldiers expected to stand for hours in the cold as they prepared for the event.

But, it had become a rare occurrence for Alexander Pavlovich to make a public appearance over the past few years and the entire city was determined to catch sight of him.

“What’s troubling you?” Josef abruptly demanded.

Dimitri smiled with wry amusement at his servant’s perception. Yes. They had most certainly been working together for too long.

“Katherine Marie,” he muttered, annoyed by a vague memory teasing the edge of his mind. “The name is familiar.”

Josef shrugged. “As I said, it’s common enough.”

“Yes.” Dimitri shook his head in frustration and abruptly turned down a side street that would lead to the Summer Garden and the Field of Mars beyond. He knew a few tricks to avoid the worst of the traffic. “This way.” Intent on reaching Emma, it took Dimitri a moment to realize his companion was beginning to fall farther and farther behind. He glanced over his shoulder with an expression of impatience. “Josef?”

The servant shifted uneasily in his saddle. He hated being in the finer neighborhoods. Understandable, of course. One misstep and a man could find himself rotting in the nearest dungeon.

“You wanted those noblemen to be watched. I’ll find—”

“I have need of you,” Dimitri firmly interrupted, returning his attention to the road.

“I knew that woman was going to be trouble the moment she threatened to geld Semyon with scalding coffee,” Josef muttered, grudgingly returning to Dimitri’s side.

Dimitri scowled. He was not pleased when he discovered Emma had been troubled by one of his own servants.

“Semyon should have been gelded, although I believe the flogging I gave him should be lesson enough in how to treat a lady.”

“What do you intend to do with her?”

“That is a question that kept me pacing the floor most of the night,” Dimitri said dryly.

Josef shook his head in sad resignation. “A wise man would pack his bags and flee at this moment.”

“No doubt.”

“And yet you intend to pursue her.”

Dimitri shifted in his saddle, balking at the accusation. He took women beneath his protection and sheltered them from the cruelties of the world. He did not pursue them. Especially not those women who flouted his authority and deliberately placed themselves in danger.

“I intend to make certain that she does not ruin our opportunity to capture the bastards,” he snarled. “If they recognize her, then they will become even more cautious. We will never be able to follow their trail.”

Josef snorted. “And you are not at all fearful she might be in danger?”

Dimitri ignored the question, slowing his mount as they neared the Palace Square. Over the heads of the crowd, he caught sight of the soldiers marching past the emperor, who watched on horseback, his once handsome features lined with fatigue beneath the pale autumn sunlight. The duties of the crown sat heavily on Alexander Pavlovich’s shoulders. At the czar’s side was Herrick Gerhardt, his eagle gaze missing nothing of the milling crowd.

With a grimace, Dimitri turned his attention to the carriages that lined the square.

“Where did you last see them?” he demanded.

“Near the end of the Hermitage.” Josef pointed across the Square. “What do you intend to do?”

He gritted his teeth, refusing to give in to the impulse to charge across the parade grounds and toss Emma over his shoulder as if he were a barbarian. Not only was it a ridiculous notion, but he would attract precisely the kind of attention he was hoping to avoid.

“You will ensure a note is delivered to Vanya that she is to return home without delay,” he commanded.

Josef narrowed his eyes. “And you?”

“I will be waiting.”

DISCREETLY STANDING behind Vanya, Emma attempted to concentrate on the passing crowd. She had, after all, been the one to plead with the older woman to discover a means she could catch sight of Count Fedor and his brother, Sergei. And she had promised faithfully she would do nothing that would allow others to believe she was other than a maid who was there to fetch and carry for her mistress.

But while she was desperate to discover if the count was the same Fedor who had stayed at her inn, she could not help being distracted by the stunning beauty that surrounded her. Over and over her gaze strayed to the imposing Winter Palace with its magnificent Corinthian columns and the statues that seemed to peer down at her from the roof. Almost as dazzling was the handsome emperor seated on his horse less than a stone’s throw away, his large form attired in military splendor and his brilliant blue eyes seeming to regard his passing troops with a wistful gleam, as if he were wishing he could join the precise lines of soldiers and march away from the crowd that pressed around him.

For a woman who had never been more than a mile from her forgotten village in the wilds of Russia, it was a breathtaking vision she knew she would never forget.

With a shake of her head, Emma sternly returned her attention to the elegant women with their fur-lined capes and the gentlemen in their military finery as they jostled to gain a place near the emperor. None paid her the least amount of attention as she stood in the shadows, her face hidden beneath the oversized brown bonnet and matching cloak that fell from her chin to the tips of her toes. To the nobles she was a meaningless servant beneath their notice.

She was attempting to get a better view of the two gentlemen crossing toward an older man with silver hair and arrogant expression when a tiny boy dressed in ragged clothing stopped next to Vanya and shoved something in her hand.

Emma instinctively moved forward to protect the older woman, but she had barely taken a step when the urchin darted away, weaving his way with ease through the people.

“This is odd,” the older woman murmured, glancing down at the crumpled note she held in her hand.

“What is it?” Emma asked.

“I suppose we shall soon discover. Will you be gravely disappointed if we leave?”

“Certainly not.” Emma winced as a rotund woman nearly knocked her to the ground. “I doubt I could recognize anyone in such a crowd.”

Vanya offered a comforting smile as they moved toward the waiting carriage.

“Do not fear, my dear. We shall find another means to cross paths with the gentlemen you seek.”

The trip back to Vanya’s home was speeded by the servants who walked ahead of the carriage and cleared a path, and within half an hour they were pulling to a halt. Allowing Vanya to be assisted by the waiting groom, Emma stepped onto the pavement behind her, unprepared for the ruthless hand that seemed to come from nowhere and clamp about her upper arm.

With a startled gasp, she whipped her head around to discover a man looming beside her, his face hidden behind a muffler.

“A word in private, Emma Linley-Kirov, if you please,” he growled, his dark male voice and smoldering golden eyes all too familiar.

Dimitri Tipova.

She pressed a hand to her thundering heart. “Good Lord, you near scared the life from me.”

Ignoring her chiding words, the exasperating man began hauling Emma toward Vanya’s private rose garden.

“If you will excuse us, Vanya?” he belatedly tossed toward the older woman.

Vanya arched a silver brow. “Do I have a choice?”

“Not on this occasion.”

Shocked by Dimitri’s unexpected arrival, Emma allowed herself to be pulled through the gate and into the small stone grotto that hid them from view. It was only when he spun her to meet his furious gaze that she jerked her arm free of his slender fingers.

“You truly must overcome your habit of manhandling me, sir—”

“Dimitri,” he bit out, removing his hat and muffler and tossing them on a nearby marble bench.

A chill inched down her spine at the hard expression on his beautiful face, but she held her ground, refusing to reveal her unease.

“I will not be bullied.”

“Be happy that I have not turned you over my knee as I long to do,” he snapped.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I suspected that you were headstrong and impulsive and inclined to follow your heart rather than your head, but I did not realize you were without sense.”

“I do not have to remain here and be insulted by a—”

Her proud words were brought to a sharp halt as he reached up to tug the bonnet off her head, disregarding her angry protest as he dropped it on the ground.

“Did you truly believe that ridiculous concoction would protect you if you encountered the men who abducted your sister?”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” she said, tossing back the thick honey hair that tumbled about her shoulders. “No one took the least notice of me.”

“My servant recognized you from across the square.”

“More likely he recognized Vanya Petrova and assumed I was her companion,” she argued. “The men I am seeking have no expectation of seeing me in St. Petersburg and certainly not in the company of a noblewoman.”

He stepped forward, his hands clenched at his side. “You took an absurd risk.”

“I am quite at liberty to take whatever risks I desire. It is none of your concern.”

“Emma, do not be a fool,” he rasped. “Those men may hide among polite society, but beneath their fine clothing and excessively large homes they are no better than animals. If they decide you are a threat to them they will not hesitate to put you in a grave.”

Emma bristled at his unwanted lecture, but there was something in his voice that tempered her fury.

It was understandable for any gentleman with the least amount of decency to be outraged at the thought of innocent young girls being abused. But there was something personal, perhaps even intimate, in Dimitri’s anger.

Tilting back her head, she studied the chiseled perfection of his aristocratic features. This man was proving to be disturbingly complex.

“Herrick insisted that you were the best suited to assist me in finding my sister, but he did not reveal what connection you possess with these men.”

His eyes darkened. “Do you wonder if I am a partner in their crimes?”

“No. Certainly not.”

“I have confessed to be a sinner.”

Without thought, she reached to place her hand on his forearm. “You might be a sinner, but you are not evil.”

His gaze lowered to where her fingers lay against his coat. “There are those who would disagree.”

She shrugged off his warning, bitterly aware that the opinion of others rarely had anything to do with the truth.

“Besides, if you were involved in their ghastly business you would hardly be eager to bring them to justice.”

“Not justice.” A terrifying anger burned in his golden eyes. “I want them destroyed. I want their foul deeds exposed to the world so that they flee to the wilds of Siberia to hide from their shame. I want them to die alone and in complete despair.”

Emma shivered at the stark pain that she sensed beneath his fury. “They hurt someone you love. Your sister?”

His jaw hardened and she thought he intended to ignore her question. Then, with a sharp movement, he turned away to gaze out the small window overlooking the nearby fountain.

“My mother.”

Her heart squeezed with sympathy. “They abducted her?”

“There was no need. My mother was the daughter of a simple cobbler.” His voice was as hard and frigid as the Siberian winter. “One day Count Nevskaya walked into my grandfather’s shop and had his servant collect my mother and carry her to his waiting carriage.”

“He just…took her?”

“He tossed a few coins on the counter in payment.”

She swallowed the bile that threatened to rise in her throat. “And your grandfather did nothing to stay him?”

“It was a different time and the count was a close friend to Emperor Paul.” The lines of his shoulders were rigid, his hands clenched at his sides. She had obviously stirred his deepest demons. “My grandfather could not risk the wrath of a nobleman when he had several other children to support.”

Emma wrapped her arms around her waist, feeling cold to her very soul.

“How old was she?”

“Just turned fifteen.”

It was worse than Anya. Dimitri’s mother had been taken as if she were no more than an object that had been bought by a handful of coins.

“Where did he take her?”

“He owns a home near Novgorod. He kept her there for near six months, then…”

She unwittingly moved to his side, studying the bleak lines of his profile.

“Then what?”

“It became obvious she was with child so he dismissed her.”

Her breath tangled in her throat as she abruptly realized she had been absurdly blind. She should have suspected the truth from the moment she had caught sight of his lean, noble features. Or at least after he’d attempted to bully her. That sort of arrogance had to be bred into a man.

“You are that child?” she asked softly.

He slowly turned to face her, his expression guarded. Emma sensed how difficult it was to speak of his past, as if the wounds were still raw and bleeding.

“I am.”

She hesitated, unwilling to further his pain, and yet needing to know what happened.

“Did your mother return to her family?”

“They refused to take her back into their home. She was, after all, ruined in the eyes of the world. They could not hope to marry her off with a bastard child in tow.”

Her cheeks heated with outrage. “But she was taken against her will.”

Leaning against the fresco painted on the stone wall of the grotto, Dimitri studied her flush beneath his half-lowered lashes.

“You are not that naive, Emma.”

No, she was not.

So long as women were kept powerless they were at the mercy of men, society and even fate that too often treated them with a ruthless cruelty.

“What happened to her?”

“What happens to most women forced onto the streets,” he said harshly. “Once she gave birth to me she entered a brothel. Does that shock you?”

His wary gaze skimmed over her face, no doubt accustomed to others condemning his mother for the choices she was forced to make. Emma, however, felt only sympathy. And admiration.

“On the contrary, I admire her,” she said with a steady sincerity. “She was obviously a woman who did whatever necessary to survive.”

“From what I could discover she became reconciled to her fate and soon learned that her considerable beauty could provide her the necessary funds for a modest home.” He grimaced. “A pity she could not be satisfied.”

“What do you mean?”

“She was determined that I would have a proper education.”

“It is what any woman would want for their child.”

His features might have been carved from granite in the sunlight slanting through the grotto window.

“I did not ask for her sacrifice,” he growled.

She frowned, puzzled by his lack of gratitude. Surely he must understand a woman was willing to sacrifice anything for the people they loved?

“Dimitri?”

His eyes grew distant, the muscles in his jaw knotted as he recalled his past.

“One morning she attired me in my finest clothes, which meant they did not yet have holes in the knees and elbows, and we walked for what seemed to be miles until we at last came to a magnificent palace. I will never forget marching up the front steps and ringing the bell as if we were welcome guests.” His lips twisted. “I was terrified.”

Emma smiled in understanding. Approaching Herrick Gerhardt’s elegant home mere days ago had taken every bit of courage she could muster. And she was supposedly a mature woman.

“How old were you?”

“Eight, or perhaps nine.” He shrugged. “Certainly old enough to realize we were not where we belonged.”

She ignored the urge to reach up and stroke the sleek raven hair pulled into a ribbon at his nape. The wounded boy that lurked deep inside Dimitri made him no less dangerous. Indeed, the wave of tenderness that swept through her was far more disturbing than the potent attraction that tingled within her.

“Were you turned away?”

“No, my mother was quite determined, and my unmistakable resemblance to my father managed to get us over the threshold and into the count’s private study.” Shoving away from the wall, Dimitri paced to the center of the grotto. “I understood very little of the conversation beyond the fact my father did a great deal of shouting and my mother refused to leave. It was only later that I learned she had threatened to approach the count’s wife and inform her that he had forced himself on a mere child if he did not see to my education.”

Emma carefully considered her words. The tension in the air was tangible.

“Clearly her threat was successful.”

His breath hissed through his clenched teeth. “It was successful in the sense I was sent to school in Moscow, but my father was far from pleased to be outwitted by a mere whore and set about destroying her life.”

Emma winced, already suspecting that the poor woman had suffered for her bold courage.

“What did he do?” she husked.

“He had her evicted from her home, and then he ensured her wealthy patrons would no longer seek her companionship. It became more and more difficult for her to earn a decent living and she was forced to take rooms in the sewers of St. Petersburg.” The golden eyes darkened with a bleak loss that tore at her heart. “It was only a matter of time before she had her throat slit and her body left in the gutter.”