My Angel

by Christine Young

  "I didn't. Not until this moment. She never told me. I thought..." Even while Alexi saw Sam's need to kill, to seek vengeance for the wrong Alexi had done Sam's daughter, Alexi knew Sam wouldn't hurt him. Not until he saw his daughter. Not until Sam heard Angela's tale. It would not do to tell Sam Chamberlain what he'd thought his daughter was. A whore. No, it would not do at all. Alexi's stomach churned in dismay. He'd never wronged another man in his life.

  Allah, but he'd done Angela a terrible wrong--and in the process her father, too.

  "What did you think? That she would be easy? That you could use her any way you pleased? I've heard the stories about you, Alexi Popov, and your harem of women."

  Ivan laughed. "Harem? My, my, but your reputation precedes you."

  ''Shut the hell up." Alexi glared at his friend. He had thought of Angela as easy, and yes, he had thought he could do whatever he pleased. "I've no harem." He turned to Sam. "I've no harem," he repeated. "Your daughter came with me willingly. She wanted adventure, and I had no idea who she was."

  This was not all his fault. But he felt as if it were.

  His stomach turned over once more. Indeed, he'd had no idea, but would knowledge of Angela's identity have stopped him? The answer eluded him. He'd wanted Angela from the first time he set eyes on her, and he'd decided at that moment he'd have her.

  No, nothing would have stopped him from seducing her, from making love to her.

  Not Sam Chamberlain or Chamberlain's reputation. Not anything.

  He wanted her still, even knowing who she was. He needed to undo the wrongs he'd committed against her. He needed to change the fear he'd seen in her eyes when he left her that night in the hotel room. She'd thought she'd done something wrong, and he had done nothing to change that thought.

  That lack still haunted him.

  He had lashed out at her because of her lack of innocence.

  The two men were circling each other now, one ready to kill, the other needing to make amends. Alexi could think of only one way to repair the damage done, and that was to offer marriage. The same obstacle still lay in his path, though. Nothing had changed.

  Ivan laughed again, clearly amused by the circling men. He clapped his hands, gaining their attention momentarily. "We don't have time for this nonsense," he said harshly. "Have you forgotten our need for haste?"

  Alexi grunted. "Tell that to the father of the wronged woman"

  Sam looked at Ivan then Alexi, feeling the subtle tension that passed between the two men. Once again, fear for Angela was paramount in his mind. "You feel it, too," Sam said softly.

  Alexi nodded. "There is danger to her. I thought she'd be safe, but the feelings will not leave. There is nothing tangible, just a fear in the pit of my stomach."

  Sam nodded, understanding they childishly wasted time here. "We will settle this later,'' Sam said, his voice a low, vehement growl.

  Alexi nodded. "We will solve the dispute. Though I fear nothing can be settled."

  Chapter Seventeen

  As the three men rode down the winding lane leading to the mansion, tremors of fear swept through Alexi. Each shudder ripped through to the marrow of his bones.

  All around them, hounds bayed and men yelled. In the distance he heard confusion and mass hysteria. His heart pounded, and he spurred Jabbar faster, until the horse was lathered and heaving.

  Ivan and Sam kept pace beside him.

  In a swirl of dust, they stopped. Alexi jerked on Jabbar's reins so harshly the stallion reared, his mighty forelegs pawing the air, Alexi's heart racing with dread.

  Suddenly the grounds surrounding the mansion stilled, became absolutely silent.

  It should have felt good to be home. But Alexi felt only fear and a profound sense of betrayal. He knew without asking Angela was gone, understood she'd broken her sacred promise to him.

  His heart seemed to stop, then shudder. He didn't want to believe the thoughts lodging painfully in his heart.

  A lace curtain in one of the upstairs rooms stirred and for a brief moment Alexi thought he saw Feodora's pinched face studying him. He'd seen Feodora years before as a little girl. Even then the lines of her face had been harshly squeezed together, making her appear to hate the world.

  Where was his grandmother? Where was Angela? Both of the women should have been outside to greet them by now.

  "Master?"

  Alexi turned once again, jerking Jabbar's reins. "Yuri..."

  The man looked strangely forlorn, his shoulders stooped as if the weight of the world rested upon them.

  "It's been a long time. I trust everything is well." But Alexi knew nothing was right.

  Yuri took Jabbar's reins as Alexi dismounted.

  He cleared his throat before speaking. "Everything is terrible," Yuri began, his voice filled with fear, but as the words began to flow he seemed to gain courage. "Mrs. Popov is gone. She did not know when you would be home or that the girl would arrive without you. Misha has left, too. He did not realize Natasha was not here because he left in the middle of the night. I fear--"

  "Angela?" Alexi barked her name. The stark anger in his voice surprised him, fear pounding through his veins. All the misgivings he'd had for over a week once again swept through him full force. His heart clenched and tightened into a hard, strangled knot. "Angela?" he repeated, softer this time. His hands were on Yuri's shoulders, shaking the man. "Where the hell is Angela?" Alexi's patience unraveled.

  "Gone," Yuri said, his head lowered as well as his voice. "Ran off yesterday."

  "No!" Sam's voice penetrated the cold, unforgiving fog wrapping around Alexi and squeezing his heart.

  "She would not leave unless something or someone threatened her life.'' Sam turned the full force of his fury onto Alexi. "What did you do to her?"

  "I've done nothing but cherish Angela." And promise to protect her, keep her safe. "She came with me of her own free will, just as I told you earlier." But his gut clenched. He remembered vividly how angry and furious she'd been after he had deposited her on his ship like a sack of potatoes. She had not boarded the Mystic of her own free will. He lied to Sam, but the truth would not help. Not right now.

  "We will see." Sam nodded. "When she can speak for herself, she will tell me what happened."

  "Where did she go?'' Alexi assumed control, firing his questions at Yuri. "Why? When?"

  "We don't know where she's gone." Yuri walked with Jabbar toward the stables, the other horses following. "I could tell you why, but I think you should ask Miss Feodora. She's the one responsible. Angela stood her ground as long as she could, but ..."

  "The hounds." Ivan spoke up, his tone fierce, his hands clenched together. "Did Feodora send the hounds after Angela?"

  Another wave of terror gripped Alexi. The hounds would tear her apart. Surely Feodora knew that.

  "Yes, she did, but they couldn't find a trail. Hid her tracks real well, she did. Knew just what to do to keep the dogs from finding her," Yuri said, a note of pride in his voice that Alexi did not miss. "She lit out of here even though she wasn't strong enough. If she hadn't gone when she did, Miss Feodora would have had her back to work the next morning."

  "What aren't you telling me?" Alexi asked, his gaze trained on Yuri. His voice was threatening. "Angela wasn't here to work. She was to be my--'' Alexi caught himself before saying mistress. This was not the time for her father to know the truth about his intentions, even though Sam had guessed as much.

  After hesitating a moment, Yuri blurted out the truth. "Miss Feodora locked Angela in the woodshed without food and water for two days. Then, when she took a few apples, Miss Feodora had her flogged--accused the sweet angel of stealing. As soon as the wee thing could walk, she lit out of here.''

  Alexi and Sam were halfway up the stairs before Yuri finished. The word flogged had them both running. Alexi burst into Feodora's room first, murder foremost in his mind. How dared Feodora take it on herself to assume control of the household in his grandmother's absence. His muscles straini
ng, his fists clenching, he was sorely tempted to do the same to the aristocratic lady his mother had picked for him to wed. He wanted her flogged, humiliated in front of the peasants.

  Flogging was too good for the likes of her.

  Sam stood behind Alexi. Ivan followed at a more sedate speed.

  "I should kill you," Alexi grated out after bursting into the room he'd seen her in earlier.

  "Killing is too easy." Sam spoke from behind Alexi, his voice low and menacing. "She needs a lifetime of torture."

  "She will have a lifetime of banishment." Ivan spoke from behind both Alexi and Sam. "And to Feodora it will be torture.''

  Feodora rose from the chair she sat in, her hands fluttering, her lashes lowered demurely.' 'Whatever do you mean? I know nothing."

  Alexi stepped forward but was stopped by Sam's hand on his shoulder. "Where is Angela?" Sam asked before Alexi could collect his pound of flesh from Feodora.

  Feodora smoothed the folds of her ivory satin skirt, the lines of her face softening. The bodice of her dress was trimmed with lace, slightly off the shoulder, calculated to show an expanse of soft white skin. She bent over to expose herself to Alexi.

  He saw and bile rose in his throat.

  "I don't have any idea what you mean," she said, looking up, her smile the picture of innocence, her pose demure, enticing to any man stupid enough to believe in this woman's virtue. Alexi could not be duped. "You know I don't concern myself with the servants," she said offhandedly.

  "Angela was not a servant. She was supposed to be safe here," Alexi said. "Under my protection."

  "My misunderstanding." She fluttered her lashes, looking pointedly at Ivan. "Perhaps you should have sent word what your intentions were."

  "I've told him everything about you, Feodora. Everything," Ivan said, his voice as harsh and commanding as Alexi's. A shudder swept across her shoulders. "I've told him how you came to my bed in the middle of the night and sometimes in the middle of the day."

  "He lied." Her voice shook, her skin ashen.

  Alexi grinned. He reached out, wrapping one of her dangling curls around his finger. "In all the years I've known Ivan, he has never spoken an untruth. You are nothing but an expensive whore with an aristocratic title, Feodora. Nothing more." He let the curl go, dismissing her.

  "Begging your pardon, sir." Yuri appeared in the doorway. "Misha showed Miss Angela to the room you requested for her. Hours later, Misha was summoned home and Miss Feodora had Angela removed." Yuri finished the story, leaving nothing out, Alexi growing more angry with the telling. "Miss Angela set off in the midst of a raging storm."

  "Yuri." Alexi turned to his man. "Lock Miss Feodora in this room. Don't let her out for any reason. Until I find Angela, I want to know that Feodora can do no more harm to anyone. Ivan, sit on her if you have to."

  "With pleasure." Ivan laughed. "It would indeed be a pleasure to see if she still carries my child. Her skirts seem to hide the swelling of her womb. She did submit to me so sweetly. It is a pity I could not bring your bridegroom with me. Najjar would enjoy taming a shrew, and he is very eager to taste your fire." Ivan seemed to enjoy taunting her.

  Little was said between Alexi and Sam as they walked down the long staircase to the first floor. Alexi started out the door. Sam stopped him.

  "While your eagerness to find Angela makes me look upon you in a little different light, it is not wise to begin the search now." Sam's words were spoken with the strength and the wisdom of a man well versed in tracking.

  "I will not wait. If the hounds lost her, it can mean only one thing: she used the pond and the creek feeding into it to make her departure. I know where she's headed." Several times Alexi ran his fingers through his hair. And several times he inhaled deeply, cursing the woman upstairs.

  ~ * ~

  Less than thirty minutes later Alexi sat on a fresh horse, Sam at his side, and they headed north into the mountains. Even to an experienced tracker there were few signs. Alexi understood all too well why his peasants had run in circles, trying to find Angela.

  "Angela did not want to be found. Catching up to Angela will not be easy for us either," Sam said, his voice swelling with both pride in and fear for his daughter.

  He had taught her well--perhaps too well. Her life might be the price for her expertise.

  Day drew into night, and still they moved on, both knowing Angela would not stop unless she had to. She had two days head start. Anything could happen in this wilderness and country she knew nothing about.

  Sam found an apple core and then another, and prayed they were Angela's. Fear for her settled in the depth of his gut. She would not have left such a sign if she had her wits about her. She was hurting. The need for speed welled inside him.

  Then Alexi found the spot where she'd lain to rest, saw blood on the granite she'd lain against and saw, too, the tracks of other men.

  Two other men had found her and spirited her away. Their tracks led deep into the mountains.

  ~ * ~

  Alexi set a steady pace, his heart heavy with worry. He'd never felt so frightened. Angela was everything to him. To live the rest of his years alone, without her, would make his life have no meaning. The thought startled him. He'd never believed a woman could mean so very much to him.

  Sam mirrored Alexi's apprehension in the grim set of his mouth. Alexi could read the fear in the older man, could see the anguish in the set of his shoulders, the tilt of his chin. He saw love and pride for Angela in Sam's expression, and heard the same in the man's voice every time he spoke of her.

  Angela was a wild thing, an adventure ready to happen. Alexi prayed she'd had her fill of excitement.

  She would have learned discipline at her father's knee, a moral code that would run straight and true. When all this was finished, Alexi meant to ask Sam just what the hell Angela was doing at Velvet leBon's whorehouse the night Emma Barringer was to be auctioned. The man was a fool for letting her dress as a whore, for allowing a man like himself to believe the worst of a fragile, sweet woman. Alexi smiled inwardly. Angela would never admit it, but she was soft and fragile, delicate in the extreme. She could fight like a man, yet she did not have the strength to pit herself against him. He'd won the only battle they'd ever engaged in simply by overpowering her then subduing her.

  "Hell," Alexi muttered.

  "You're feeling the danger, too. When we get Angela back to your home, I intend to find out what made you think you could steal my daughter without asking permission."

  Alexi moaned. He didn't have an answer. Arrogance? The fact that he'd never been denied anything before in his life? "When we get back, old man... when we get back, I'm going to demand a few answers of my own."

  "Very well," Sam gritted out.

  Night settled in, and the wind blowing down from the mountains chilled Alexi. Or perhaps it was fear that sent the cold straight to his heart. His mind played games with him, his imagination running rampant, his terror at Angela's abduction wrenching his heart into two separate pieces.

  He had promised to keep her safe. She had promised to stay at the mansion. According to Yuri she had endured as much as she could. She'd run only because there was no other way.

  Firelight bathed the hard angles and planes of Sam's features. He lit a cheroot. The embers glowed red-hot against the black cloak of night. They both had a multitude of unanswered questions.

  "What did you say to my daughter?" Sam asked. His tone held no menace, just curiosity.