A Daring Passion (37 page)

And of course, there would be plenty of nearby villagers who would be grateful for her incessant need to be of service to others. She would be pleased to discover that his tenants were a warm and generous people who would readily show her the affection she had lacked in her life until now.

Philippe's thoughts were still wrapped about the image of Raine filling his home with her unique spirit when he realized he had reached his destination.

With a shake of his head to clear his thoughts, Philippe dismounted and tossed the reins to a nearby pickpocket who lurked near the door. The lad would know better than to try to take off with the stallion. Belfleur could be a harsh taskmaster.

Philippe entered the shop, frowning as he found the front shop empty. “Belfleur?”

The rotund Frenchman appeared from the back door, waving his plump hand for Philippe to follow him. “Come in, Philippe. We will speak in the back.”

With a shrug, Philippe allowed himself to be led to an office that held a small desk and dozens of cabinets that were convenient for hiding ill-gotten goods. Crossing to the desk, Belfleur poured them both a measure of brandy and pressed a glass into Philippe's hand. Then, with oddly jerky motions, he turned to stir the dying embers of the fire.

Philippe drained the welcome heat of the brandy and set aside the glass. He was impatient to be done with the business.

“Where is the bastard?” he demanded. “Do you have him trapped?”

Belfleur slowly straightened and turned to regard Philippe with a guarded expression. “
Non,
this has nothing to do with Seurat.”

Philippe clenched his fists as disappointment flared through him. What the devil was Belfleur thinking? He had to know that his note would send Philippe rushing to his establishment with the conclusion that his enemy was within his grasp.

“Your message said it was urgent that you speak with me,” he said, his cold tone warning that he was not pleased.

Belfleur grimaced, but he offered no apology. “I have discovered information that I believe you would wish to know.”

Philippe took a step forward, not at all in the mood to play games. His entire evening had been thrown into disarray by this ridiculous diversion.

“Hell and damnation, Belfleur. If you have something to tell me, then get on with it. I have matters to attend to.”

Still, the man hesitated, sipping at his brandy before heaving a sigh and squaring his shoulders. Rather like the proverbial messenger bearing bad tidings.

“I have just come from dinner with an old friend who told me of a peculiar encounter he had with a customer today,” he at last confessed.

Philippe stiffened. “Peculiar in what manner?”

“A foreign gentleman entered his establishment with the wish to sell a near fortune in jewels.”

“And what interest should I have in this?”

“He was certain that the jewels were recently purchased from my own modest shop only days ago. Naturally it piqued his interest that they would be so swiftly sold.”

The air was squeezed from Philippe's lungs as he abruptly began to pace the room. “What sort of jewels were these?”

“Three rather beautiful necklaces.”

“The necklaces I purchased?”

“Oui.”

Philippe reached the small desk and placed his hands flat on the surface. A cold dread was forming in the pit of his stomach. A horrid sense that he was being steadily led to the guillotine.

“A foreign gentleman, you said?”

“Spanish, my friend claimed. Or perhaps Portuguese.”

The coldness spread even further as Philippe straightened with a shake of his head. “Carlos? No. It is impossible.”

Belfleur sighed as he drained the last of his brandy. “I fear my friend was quite clear in his description of the gentleman and it fit Carlos remarkably well.”

“I have known Carlos most of my life. He would never steal from me,” Philippe growled even as a traitorous voice began to whisper in the back of his mind.

Carlos was fascinated with Raine. Even if he had not openly admitted his interest it would have been obvious in every lingering glance, every smile that touched his lips when she entered the room and every frantic hour he had been tortured when she had been missing.

How far would he go to have her as his own?

And more important, did Raine prefer the handsome, passionate young man who might very well be willing to offer her the honor of marriage? She had made it clear that she was shamed by the thought of being a mistress. Perhaps the hope of retrieving her tarnished reputation was too great a temptation.

Was that why she had been so sweetly giving last night? Was she saying goodbye to him?

The mere thought was enough to make him growl with a low, lethal fury.

Easily sensing the violence that now prickled the air, Belfleur held up his hands, eager to remind Philippe that he was innocent of any crime.

“There is nothing certain, Philippe. However, I would suggest that you discover if someone has managed to steal your treasure.”

Philippe was already headed for the door.

No one would steal his treasure.

No matter what he had to do to keep it.

To keep her.

 

C
ARLOS GRUDGINGLY LINGERED
in the depths of the church as he watched Raine pick her way over the uneven ground of the cemetery. It was not his nature to skulk in shadows while a fragile female went to confront the enemy. Especially when that female was Raine.

But somehow the bewitching minx had managed to wrestle a promise from him. He was not to take a step from the church unless he was convinced that Seurat meant her harm. She was determined to see this desperate plot through, and he discovered he did not possess the will to oppose her.

Which only proved that he was an idiot, Carlos acknowledged with a heavy sigh. He knew all too well that her willingness to place herself in such risk revealed just how deeply she had become attached to Philippe. A realization that made him smolder with an aching frustration.

Had he any sense at all he would have gotten on his horse and ridden from Raine Wimbourne the moment he suspected the truth of his feelings. Someplace far enough that he could ease his passions in a willing woman. Perhaps several willing women. None of whom had a taste for coldhearted, arrogant aristocrats.

His wandering thoughts were abruptly shoved aside as Raine came to a halt in the middle of the cemetery. From behind a crypt a limping form stepped forward to confront the startled woman and Carlos stiffened. Damn, they were too far away. If Seurat intended her harm…

Distracted by the fear that surged through his body, Carlos was uncharacteristically oblivious to his surroundings. A painful mistake, he discovered when he was grasped by the shoulder and spun about to encounter a descending fist.

The blow cracked his jaw and blinded his vision, and it was only his years of training that enabled him to instinctively jerk his head backward to avoid the second jab. Keeping his head low, Carlos used his considerable strength to shove his shoulder into his attacker's stomach, sending them both onto the dusty stone floor.

He managed to land on top, but it was a short-lived victory. Even as he pulled back his arm to punish his brazen opponent, his sight cleared enough to realize that this was no accomplice of Seurat, or even a random thug. The moonlight slanting through the open door revealed the unmistakable features of Philippe Gautier.

Astonishment made him falter for only a heartbeat, but it was long enough to give Philippe the advantage. With a low curse, the man had flipped Carlos onto his back and held him in place with a threatening hand wrapped around his throat.

“Did you truly believe you could take her from me,
amigo?
” Philippe growled, his face a deadly mask of intent. “Did you think I would not hunt you down and kill you?”

Carlos grasped Philippe's wrist and managed to loosen his hand enough to prevent himself from being strangled. How the hell had Philippe managed to track them to this cemetery? Had he suspected that they were plotting behind his back and waited for them to expose their hand?

Struggling to breathe, Carlos realized that it did not matter how he had found them. For the moment it was far more important that Philippe had convinced himself that Carlos was attempting to steal away the woman he considered as his own.

“If I had intended to take Raine away from you, Philippe, you would never have found us,” he rasped. “And my choice certainly would not have been a damp, frigid church in sight of your cottage.”

“You think I am a fool?” The green eyes flashed with a hectic fire, revealing the terrifying depths of his fury. Carlos had never seen his friend in the grip of such emotion. Not even when they had discovered Jean-Pierre was rotting in an English prison. It spoke to his desperation at the thought of losing Raine. “I know you stole the necklaces that I bought for Raine,” he continued. “I also know you took them to Paris and sold them.”

“How did you—” His startled question was choked off as Philippe's fingers tightened on his throat. “Damn you, Philippe, I cannot breathe.”

“I do not care.”

“I am not a thief,” Carlos protested, relieved when the fingers eased. He had no desire to hurt Philippe, but he would not meekly allow himself to be throttled. “Raine gave the necklaces to me of her own will and requested that I sell them.”

Philippe stiffened, a muscle in his jaw throbbing as he struggled to control his fierce response.

“You claim that this betrayal was Raine's notion?”

“There is no betrayal, but yes, it was your mistress who approached me and pleaded for my assistance,” Carlos said.

“You lie.”

“No, Philippe, not in this. I tell you the truth.”

There was a frozen silence as Philippe accepted that Carlos was not lying. A brief flash of something that might have been sorrow burned in his eyes before he was narrowing them with anger.

“She asked you to take her from me?”

“That…was not her intent,” he said cautiously.

Philippe sucked in a sharp breath. “Damn you, I will not endure riddles. Why did you take the jewels?”

“Because Raine desired the money they would bring,” Carlos grudgingly revealed. Despite his pledge to Raine, they needed to be done with this nonsense. She was out there alone with Seurat. If something happened to her it would be entirely his fault.

“If she wanted money she need only have asked me for it,” Philippe said, his voice raw.

“She did not wish you to know of her plans.”

“Her plans to leave me?”

“No.”

“Damn you, Carlos, I saw the two of you leaving the cottage. Together.” Those slender fingers once again pressed into Carlos's throat, bruising his skin and choking off his air. “Where is she? Tell me.”

“Bloody hell, Philippe.”

“Tell me.”

“She is in the cemetery.”

“Why?”

Carlos closed his eyes and accepted that his promise to Raine was at an end. He would not risk her welfare even to keep his word.

“She is meeting with Seurat.”

“Seurat?” With a smooth motion, Philippe was on his feet, his expression harsh with disbelief. “He is here?”

“Sim.”
Carlos struggled to his feet, his hand rubbing his abused throat. “As you suspected the bastard did not simply release Raine. She negotiated her own escape. This meeting was a part of that bargain.”

Philippe gave a slow shake of his head, as if having difficulty in accepting that he might have been mistaken in his furious assumptions. At last he turned and headed for the nearby door.

“Come with me.”

With a swift motion, Carlos was hurrying to place himself in front of the charging Philippe.

“What do you intend to do?”

Eyes narrowed, he said, “First I intend to capture the man I have been hunting for too long, and then I intend to teach Raine just how dangerous it is to cross my will.”

Carlos grasped his friend by the shoulders, his expression grim. “No.”

The finely carved features hardened to a cold, aloof mask. “Carlos, if you value your life you will release me this instant.”

“I will not allow you to hurt Raine.”

“She is not yours to protect.”

Carlos flinched at the stark truth of his words, but he refused to relent. “Nevertheless, I will do so.”

“Damn you, Carlos, I do not harm women, no matter how much they might deserve it.”

“I have your word?” Carlos persisted.

A growl rumbled deep in his chest. “Release me or discover that while I do not harm women, I am quite willing to harm any man who stands in my way. Including you.”