Scoundrel's Honor (24 page)

Emma grimaced. “I could not beg for charity from complete strangers.”

“Only because your pride was more important than my happiness. If you had considered my feelings at all then I would never have allowed the count to lure me away from home.”

Emma shifted uneasily. How could she deny the charge? She had allowed her pride to prevent her from seeking assistance from the family she had never known. Of course, she could hardly have suspected that Gerhardt Herrick would be so kind. Or that he would have been so willing to acknowledge a distant relative.

At the time she had only known that it was her responsibility to find the means to support her sister and she had done the best she could.

“Anya…” Her soft plea was interrupted by the sound of a slamming door from below and the rumble of male voices. Emma stiffened, an icy fear flowing through her veins. Valik had warned that the auction would be held tonight. Was it beginning? “What is that?”

“Yet more trouble. No doubt because of you.”

With a last glare, Anya turned to climb the stairs.

“Where are you going?” Emma demanded.

“I told you that Mikhail intends to take me to his home.”

“How do you intend to escape?”

“He promised he would tend to the details.” Reaching the top of the ladder, Anya reached up to push open a trap door. “I am to meet him on the roof.”

Emma tilted back her head, unable to believe after all that had occurred that her sister could still behave in such a reckless fashion.

“You are placing your trust in a slave trader who has not even shared his plan of escape?” she rasped, reaching to grab the skirt of Anya's gown. “For God's sake, he will have you completely at his mercy.”

Anya kicked out, dislodging Emma's hand. “Let go of me.”

“Please, Anya, listen to me.”

“No.”

Anya shoved her satchel through the small opening before scrambling behind it, pulling herself out of the attic and onto the roof.

Emma grabbed the ladder and prepared to climb after her sister. “Wait.”

Anya peered through the opening, her curls tumbled about her pale face.

“I am sorry, Emma, but you cannot come with us.”

Emma's eyes widened in stunned disbelief. “You intend to leave me here to be sold in a slave auction?”

“You should never have followed me.”

“Anya.”

The trap door was slammed shut and Emma listened in amazement as there was the sound of scraping, as if something were being shoved over the door to keep it from opening. Still, Emma remained poised on the ladder, refusing to believe her sister would actually abandon her in the attics while she made her own escape.

No matter what happened in the past, Anya could surely not be so heartless?

It took nearly a quarter of an hour for Emma to accept that her sister could indeed be that heartless. She had climbed the ladder, pounding on the trap door that would not budge and futilely calling for her sister who refused to answer.

At last she had been forced to accept defeat.

“Dear God,” she muttered, laying her head against the wooden rung of the ladder and closing her eyes in weariness. “I have been so stupid.”

 

W
ITH AN ANNOYED
impatience, Dimitri allowed the two guards to roughly drag him through the brothel, at last shoving him onto a low divan in the parlor.

It had taken three attempts to at last be caught by the ridiculous fools. He had all but approached them and requested a waltz before they had noticed him pretending to pick the lock of a side door. He could only assume that the men had grown weary of guarding females who had yet to earn a single ruble for them.

Now, he turned his head to watch as Valik entered the room, his hair tousled, as if he had run his fingers through it more than once. The expression on his beefy face, however, was smug. No doubt he was preening at the mistaken belief he had accomplished something no other man had managed.

“Ah, Dimitri Tipova,” the Russian drawled, halting directly before the divan. “You cannot know how I have longed for you to pay a visit.”

Dimitri settled more comfortably on the cushions, stretching out his legs and crossing them at the ankle.

“I should have visited you much sooner if you had not been fleeing from me in terror.” He flicked a glance toward the two guards who both stood like mindless statues. “Not that I am surprised. Those men who peddle in the flesh trade are by nature spineless cowards who skulk in the dark and prey on the weak.”

“You dare to lecture me?” Valik gave a sharp laugh. “You command every criminal in St. Petersburg, including a dozen whores. Christ, you chop off the hands of anyone who irritates you. And you look down your nose at me?”

Dimitri shrugged. “I do not force anyone into a life of sin, I only demand that they obey my particular laws, and in return I offer them my protection from those predators who are without honor.”

“Arrogant bastard.”

“So I have been told.”

“You may think you are better than me, but I am the one who came out the victor. I captured the notorious Dimitri Tipova.”

Dimitri lifted a mocking brow. “Surely you cannot believe that I stumbled into such an obvious trap? I did not rise to my current position by being stupid….” His gaze returned to the hulking guards. “Or careless.”

The sneering smile faltered and Valik waved a dismissive hand toward his companions.

“Leave us,” he commanded, waiting until the men had lumbered from the parlor before returning his attention to Dimitri. “You cannot fool me. You are desperate to rescue your lover.”

Stark, brutal fury speared through Dimitri at the
realization that Emma was even now in the filthy brothel, being held against her will and no doubt terrified.

“Oh, I fully intend to rescue Emma,” he said, his soft voice only emphasizing his lethal intent. “It is in your hands whether you end this encounter with enough wealth to begin a new life. Or as a corpse.”

Dimitri hid a smile as the man took an instinctive step backward.

“You are in no position to threaten me,” he snarled, obviously angered by his display of cowardice.

“You think not?” Dimitri smiled. “I assure you that you have only moments to decide whether you wish to conduct a profitable business arrangement with me or be escorted to the pasha's citadel by Caliph Rajih's guards.”

Dimitri watched in satisfaction as Valik paled at the threat.

Rajih had not been pleased when Dimitri had insisted that he enter the brothel alone, insisting that they wait until he could call for his servants and they could surround and attack the brothel in a coordinated effort. And Josef had treacherously agreed with the bastard. But Dimitri had refused to yield.

There would be no guards, no attacks and no shots fired until Emma was safely in his hands.

“You are bluffing,” the large man rasped.

“If you have heard anything of my reputation then you should know that I never bluff.”

Valik clenched his hands, suspicion tightening his features as he paced the floor.

“The caliph knows nothing of me or this brothel.”

“How do you think I found you?”

He shot Dimitri a skeptical frown. “You want me to believe he sent you here?”

“Do not be an idiot,” Dimitri retorted. “The caliph dared to steal Emma away from me while I was occupied in
London and brought her to this godforsaken country.” He did not have to pretend his surge of annoyance. “I intend to punish him, not become his lackey.”

The beady eyes narrowed. “I did wonder why the woman was in the caliph's harem.”

“A mistake I had every intention of correcting.”

“So if you are not friendly with the caliph, then how would you know he is planning to send his guards to this brothel as you claim?”

“I called upon the palace earlier in the evening.” Dimitri allowed a faint smile to touch his lips. “Of course, I took the precaution of slipping in unnoticed.”

Valik snorted. “Of course.”

“Why trouble the servants?” Dimitri lifted his shoulder in a nonchalant movement. “I am perfectly capable of opening a door. Or window, if necessary. It allows me to discover information that might otherwise have remained a secret.”

Valik returned to his pacing, his expression hard as he sensed his opportunity for revenge slipping away.

“What information?” he growled.

Dimitri unconsciously tapped his fingers on the cushions of the divan. It was one thing to be cautious, but did the fool intend to spend the entire evening chatting?

Rajih's patience would not last for long, and as for Josef…well, if the fiercely loyal servant became convinced that Dimitri was in danger, he would do whatever necessary to rescue him.

Including putting Emma at risk.

“The most interesting was the tearful confessions of a female servant who spoke of a Russian man who bribed her to lure Emma into a waiting carriage behind the harem,” Dimitri said, coming straight to the point.

“Bitch.”

“It was then the caliph sent a servant to trail your
carriage through the heavy traffic while he gathered his guards and prepared an assault on those who had dared to kidnap his favorite concubine.” Dimitri leaned forward, not bothering to hide his smoldering frustration. “I followed the servant so I could arrive before Rajih and slip Emma away.”

Valik shoved his fingers through his hair, his expression harassed.

“Are the two of you demented?” he muttered. “The woman is a sharp-tongued vixen who any man with a thimble of sense should be delighted to be rid of.”

Dimitri's hand instinctively slid up the sleeve of his robe where he had a dagger strapped to his forearm. He had another dagger tucked in his soft leather boots and a pistol in the holster beneath his left arm. The guards had been fools not to search him more carefully for weapons.

Unfortunately, he was not yet in a position to slice Valik open and leave him for the jackals. That particular pleasure would have to wait until he was certain Emma and the other girls were well away from the bastard.

“If that is true then you will be relieved to give her into my care.”

“No.” Coming to a halt, the Russian scowled in frustration. “You have destroyed my life, you smug bastard. Now you shall witness your woman used by every male who attends the auction this evening before I put you out of your misery.” He paused, his expression gloating. “Perhaps I should warn you, some of the men can be excessively rough. I doubt Emma will survive the experience.”

Dimitri slowly rose to his feet, refusing to react to the taunt despite the savage fury churning in his heart.

He had discovered as a youth on the streets of St. Petersburg that it was the man who refused to be goaded who survived.

Cold logic was always superior to mindless anger. Just as intelligence was always superior to brute strength.

He would eventually have the opportunity to make this man suffer. The sort of slow, agonizing suffering that could only end in death. But for now he had to convince the bastard that there was only one means for his survival.

“Are you deaf?” he taunted. “There will be no auction, Valik. Already the caliph is preparing to attack.”

Sweat bloomed on the man's forehead, his breathing heavy. “Then I will kill you both and escape.”

“Escape to where?” Dimitri pressed. “You are in a foreign country and I will bet my last drachma that you have little money. And worse, your wealthy associates are too consumed with their own survival to lend you assistance.” He glanced toward a grilled window where the sound of braying donkeys and the distant howl of jackals were poignant reminders of how far from home they were. “A pity.”

“I will sell the females,” he stubbornly insisted.

Dimitri gave a bark of laughter. “You can sell a pack of terrified young women while fleeing from the caliph's guards? I doubt that even you are that talented.”

Valik's bravado faltered beneath Dimitri's ruthless prodding, his hand swiping at the sweat that dripped down his brow.

“What do you offer?” he demanded at last.

Dimitri folded his hands over his chest. “You will allow me to leave the brothel with Emma and the other females. In return I will give you five hundred rubles.”

“Five hundred?” The man licked his lips. “A paltry sum for a man in your position.”

Dimitri had deliberately chosen a sum that would be large enough to tempt the man without being overly excessive. Valik was too cunning not to suspect a trap if Dimitri were willing to offer a fortune.

“It is what I have at hand and certainly it is enough to purchase a ticket upon a ship leaving Egypt,” he said. “It offers you hope.”

“You have the money with you?”

Dimitri narrowed his gaze. “I did just tell you that I was neither stupid nor careless. My servant is waiting at the Al-Hakim mosque. He will give you the money once he is certain I am safe.”

Valik was shaking his head before Dimitri finished, his expression hard with suspicion.

“I am not a fool, either. What is to keep your servant from simply shooting me in the heart?”

Dimitri shrugged, already prepared for Valik's refusal. He preferred to issue commands and have them obeyed, but he could barter with the skill of a merchant when necessary.

“Then we will travel to the mosque together,” he offered. “With me as your hostage my servant will not dare harm you until I am released.”

Valik frowned, silently pacing and weighing the undoubted danger of accepting Dimitri's offer against the potential benefits.

Dimitri held his tongue, realizing if he pressed too hard the man might give in to his primitive desire to simply shoot him in the heart. He did, after all, hold Dimitri responsible for destroying his very profitable business.

Besides, Dimitri had little more to offer. His plan had been hastily conceived with none of his usual attention to details.