Dark Rider

Fifteen

Dawn had not yet broken when Cassie reached Cambre's imposing mansion. The house was dark, and evidently no servant was stirring. Both circumstances were to her advantage… if she could gain entrance.

She tried the front door. Locked.

Well, what had she expected? None of this would be easy. When she did get inside, she would have to find Cambre's bedchamber without being discovered herself.

If she broke a window, she would be heard. The garden? It was enclosed by a high stone fence, perhaps that barrier had caused someone to be careless and leave a back door or window unlocked.

It seemed to be her night for climbing, she thought grimly. It was just as well she and Lihua had spent so many hours scaling coconut trees as children. But straight, high walls were not as easily mastered as those bent, ridged trees. It took her three tries to reach the top of the wall.

She paused, her gaze traveling over the shadowy bushes and graceful rectangular pool. No sound. No sign of anyone. The path leading to the back of the house was to her left, winding through a sparse thicket of trees.

As usual, it was easier descending than climbing. She jumped the last few feet and started toward the thicket.

A blur to her left.

She stopped, tensing. Perhaps it had not been a movement at all. She had caught only a glimpse of… of something from the corner of her eye.

"I wouldn't move if I were you. There's a pistol in your back." Something hard and round pressed into her spine.

Cambre. She had not heard that smooth, deep voice since childhood, but she would never forget it.

"I've been waiting for you, Monsieur Guillaume. I was hoping for His Grace, but he evidently prefers to send his minions." Cambre sniffed. "I wish he'd chosen an emissary less odorous."

Guillaume? Her masculine attire had evidently caused her to be mistaken, but how had he known about Guillaume?

"Light the lantern," Cambre said to someone over his shoulder. "Let's have a look at him. Though I understand he's not particularly pleasant to view."

Dear God, why had she been so careless? She should have waited after she'd scaled the wall, watched for some sign of Cambre's presence.

Because she had not expected a trap. She had thought she was the aggressor.

Light flared behind her, sending a flickering glow on the bushes in front of her.

"Well, what have we here?" Cambre murmured. He quickly searched her and withdrew the dagger. "What an exquisite weapon, much more subtle than this crude pistol of mine." His hand touched the long queue of hair that reached to the middle of her back. "I don't remember being told Guillaume had such silky tresses. Turn around."

She didn't move.

The pistol pressed harder. "You'd be advised to obey me. I had a reason to keep Guillaume alive, but you're nothing to me…"

She turned to face him.

"A woman? I thought as much. Now who could you be?" He pretended to think. "There have been only two women hindering my path of late. Mademoiselle Deville?"

She ignored his mockery and said bluntly, "I want to talk to you."

"And I want to talk to you." He sniffed again. "From a distance. I remember you as a comely little girl, and I must see if the fulfillment is as satisfying as the promise." He called to the man in the shadows, "Bring the lantern closer."

The light temporarily blinded her, but that was not what caused her to go rigid. The garden seemed to whirl around her as she stared in horror at the man carrying the lantern.

"Dear God, no," she whispered.

"You're Guillaume?" Lani demanded as she halted in front of the small man leaning against the window of the café. "Take me to the Duke of Morland." He straightened. "I have no such instructions."

"You have instructions. I'm giving them to you."

"I don't obey women. I'm to watch the pension and keep the two of you safe."

"Then you've already failed your duty. Cassie is gone."

"Impossible. I have eyes like a hawk. No one came into that building."

"But someone came out. Take me to His Grace."

He shook his head. "You're trying to fool me."

Lani drew an exasperated breath. She wanted to shake him. "Then go see for yourself. She's gone!"

He stared at her, frowning, then slowly started across the street.

"Hurry!"

His pace quickened a trifle, and he disappeared into the pension.

Lani wished she had a spear to prick the stubborn idiot to greater speed. She had been filled with panic and foreboding ever since she woke to find Cassie gone, and she was in no mood to deal with arguments.

"Papa?" Cassie whispered.

"Do you think me a ghost?" Charles Deville smiled at Cassie as he thrust the lantern at Raoul, then stepped forward and embraced her. "Do I feel like a spirit?"

Cassie clung to him. He felt blessedly warm and strong and alive. "You… he killed you."

Cambre said, "My dear child, would I murder my old friend? We merely combined our forces to defeat a common enemy."

Cassie's head was spinning with bewilderment. "I don't understand."

Her father pushed her away. "None of this was meant for you. I had no idea you were in Paris until David came here and told us you were inquiring about me." He frowned. "You should have stayed home as I told you."

"You were here when David came?"

He smiled. "Of course. I've occupied a room here since the night of my… death. It's been a bit confining not being able to leave my chamber, but Raoul supplied me with canvas and paints, and I've started a lovely picture of this garden."

"But why? How?"

"The Duke of Morland was coming too close," Cambre said. "His man, Guillaume, questioned David two years ago, and Jacques-Louis sent him on a wild-goose chase to Tahiti." He clapped Deville on the shoulder. "Without my permission, of course. I was very angry with him that he'd endangered you, my friend. But I should have known you'd be too clever for him."

She'd wager any diversion from Cambre was instigated by Cambre himself, but to her amazement her father was smiling.

"With Cassie's help," he said.

"But when Guillaume came to see David again a few weeks ago, I knew he must suspect our connection," Raoul said. "And when David came to my house directly after his visit, Guillaume followed him. Since I had covered my identity well, the visit proved nothing, but we found Guillaume an obnoxiously thorough little man. On the chance that I might be a link of some kind, he set a man to watch me." His lips tightened. "I'm not a man who likes being observed. It gets in my way."

"Raoul, it's chilly out here in the garden," her father said as he urged Cassie toward the house. "And my resurrection has clearly been a shock to my daughter. Let's get her indoors."

"Certainly. How could I be so inconsiderate?" Raoul strolled beside them down the path. "Well, when Charles appeared seeking me, I looked upon it as a stroke of good fortune. Because of the nature of my occupation and the delicacy of ridding myself of this threat from Danemount, I could not trust the task to underlings. Such men come back with palms extended. Yet the Duke is a dangerous man, and I might need help. What was the solution?"

"I have no idea," Cassie answered.

"Then I shall tell you. Set a trap. Confirm the Duke's suspicion and provide myself with an ally as dedicated to destroying Danemount as I was myself. Therefore, I allowed the Duke's spy to observe your father's 'murder.' Charles swam under water until he thought it safe, then returned to the bank and made his way to my house as planned." He smiled at her father. "The waters of the Seine are colder than your warm seas, eh?"

Her father nodded. "But the clothes you provided when I reached here are much finer than any I've worn these many years."

"It was my pleasure." He turned to Cassie. "So, you see, when the Duke comes after me, he'll have another unexpected foe with which to contend. The unexpected is always the most deadly. Don't you think it was a clever plan?"

She shivered. "Very clever."

"Enough," her father said. "This talk of death and murder is upsetting her."

"Forgive me, I forget how sensitive ladies are prone to be. But I admit to being curious regarding her knowledge of your 'death.' In fact, her very presence here in Paris amazes me. You told me you had left her safely at home in Hawaii, and yet suddenly she appears asking questions of David." He smiled at Cassie. "Both your father and I were completely bewildered. I called at your flat to assure you all was well with your father, but I must have missed you."

Assurances? She wondered what else might have occurred in that pension. Cambre was everything she remembered him to be. She felt as if a cobra were gliding beside her. "I don't see why it should surprise you. I followed my father from Hawaii because I was concerned."

"But your knowledge of our little staged charade on the Seine bothers me. I'm sure there's some reasonable explanation, but only the Duke's man saw me roll Charles into the river. Now, unless you have a connection with His Grace, I can't see how you'd assume your father was dead."

"Stop questioning her, Raoul." Her father put a protective arm around her shoulders. "As you say, I'm sure she has a reasonable explanation, but she doesn't have to give it now. She needs rest and a bath."

Raoul gazed at her for a moment and then shrugged. "You're right, of course, my friend. I'll wake the servants and have them send hot water and a tub. I believe I have some female garments about somewhere to replace those extremely odorous trousers." He opened the French door and bowed to Cassie. "But I insist you join me for breakfast in an hour's time. If I have to wait any longer, I'm certain I'll perish of curiosity."

A state much to be desired, Cassie thought as she watched him light a candle from the sideboard by the door, then stroll away from them.

Her father didn't bother lighting a candle but took her arm and led her through the dark house. He was very comfortable in Cambre's fine mansion, she thought in despair, as comfortable as he was with Cambre himself.

"I told you I'd take care of this myself," he said. "You were supposed to stay home. I wish for once you'd obeyed me."

"I couldn't do that. I had to help." She burst out, "I don't understand any of this, Papa. Why were you waiting in the garden? Why did you think anyone would come?"

"Raoul set a spy on the spy. He knew the Duke would eventually come to Paris himself. When Guillaume met with the Duke and his uncle at a tavern, Cambre's man hurried back here to report to him." He had stopped and opened a door. "After Danemount's years of searching, Raoul thought he would probably wish to strike at once."

He had been right. If Lani had not prevailed on Jared to wait, he would have walked into the trap. "You would have killed him?"

"We'll talk of this later." He lit the candle on the table by the door before crossing the room and throwing back the pale-blue silk curtains. "Isn't Raoul's house beautiful? It was kind of him to give me such a fine room."

She glanced around the room. The entire chamber was decorated in ice-blue and ivory and shades of beige, the furniture finely crafted and elegant-but there was little color or warmth. "I don't like it. I don't like him. "

He didn't seem to hear her; his gaze was fixed on the sky. "It's beginning to get light. Dawn is different here in Paris, paler, more delicate. All the colors are less vibrant here. Raoul's garden is lovely, but I miss our orchids and ginger blossoms."

"Then let's go back," she said eagerly. "Let's leave this place right now."

"I can't leave." His eyes never left the garden. "I have something to do here."

"You can't kill Jared. I won't let you." She crossed the room to stand beside him. "I know you're afraid of him, but I won't have him murdered."

"Mon dieu, I haven't heard such emotion in your voice since the night the king said he was going to have Kapu killed."

"Look at me." Her hand grasped his arm. "You can't do this. Can't you see Cambre is only using you? You're not like him. You're no murderer."

"But I am." His tone was sad. "I had a long time to think when I was on that American ship. All these years I tried to tell myself that I wasn't guilty because those deaths were out of my control, but it was a lie. I did kill them."

She stared at him in horror. "You couldn't have betrayed them. Jared said that his father called on you because you helped another family of aristocrats to escape."

"That was before I caught the fever. You don't know what it was like. It was… intoxicating. Every man had a revolutionary cockade in his hat and a story to tell. We sat in taverns and toasted the free republic and Marat and Danton. We sketched our heroes and sang the Marseilles. Then one night Raoul came along and told me how I could help the republic as a true patriot should. The Committee of Public Safety had discovered I'd helped a family of aristos to escape, but I was to be forgiven. I had only to prove my loyalty by notifying them in case I was asked to help again." He smiled sadly. "I had a wife and child; it seemed the right thing to do. Raoul was very persuasive. He promised me that any aristocrats I told him about would have a fair trial, and if they were found innocent of acting against the republic, they would only be stripped of their estates."

She stared at him incredulously. "And you believed him?"

He said simply, "I was young and I had the fever."

"But it wasn't only the Compte and his wife who were sent to the guillotine. Jared's father was murdered by Cambre's men."

"Raoul told me he had sent Jared, his father, and the Compte's baby daughter to their ship under escort. Unfortunately, they were attacked by bandits on the road and Jared's father was killed." At last he turned to look at her. "I know, I should have questioned the tale, but it was more comfortable not to. We both know I've always had a fondness for the easy way."

She felt sick. She had desperately wanted to believe Jared had been mistaken. Yet there was no surprise; somewhere deep within her she must have known this was a possibility.

"I hoped I'd never have to see you look at me like that," he said wistfully. "Don't hate me, Cassie."

Not bad, only weak and willing to blind himself to the terrible harm he was doing. "I don't hate you." She went into his arms and laid her head on his chest. No matter what he had done those many years ago, he was her father. The loving memories Lani and she had resurrected only hours before had made that clear to her. "I couldn't ever hate you."

His arms tightened around her for an instant before he released her and pushed her away. He smiled. "I do appreciate the gesture of affection, but I can't bear another minute of that terrible odor. I must see why the servants haven't arrived with that tub." He started across the room. "And when I return, we'll have to think of a good reason for your knowing about my supposed demise. We mustn't have Raoul believing you're a traitor." When he reached the door, he stopped and looked back over his shoulder. "Did you come to Paris with Danemount?"

"No, I came with Lani."

"Then would you care to tell me how you knew?"

She bit her lower lip. What could she say? Could she tell him of those nights on the Josephine! Could she tell him lust had become love for his enemy? "I can't let you kill him."

He studied her expression. "Ah, so that's the way of it. Fate does paint strange patterns for us poor mortals. Cambre may be more fortunate than he believes. If Danemount has an equal affection for you, he may have bait for the trap."

Panic soared through her. "He won't follow me. He doesn't know I'm here. Besides, he cares nothing for me."

"Impossible." He smiled gently. "You're a rare and lovely woman, Cassie. A man would be a fool not to love you, and Danemount isn't a fool."

"Papa, don't try to use me," she whispered. "I couldn't stand it."

"But you said you could never hate me, Cassie." He opened the door. "Ah, here's your tub and water." He stepped aside to allow the column of servants to enter. "Do hurry, dear. Raoul's an impatient man."

A thunderous knock snatched Jared from sleep.

"Let me in, Your Grace."

Guillaume, Jared identified drowsily. What the devil was he-

Guillaume had been guarding Cassie's pension! He leaped from the bed and jerked the door open. "What is it? What hap-"

"We have a problem." Lani pushed past Guillaume and entered the room. "Where is Bradford?"

"In the next room." His gaze searched beyond her. "You're alone. Where is she?"

Guillaume said quickly, "I'm sorry to bring her here, Your Grace. I was standing across the street watching the pension, and she marched up to me and demanded to see you."

He motioned impatiently, his gaze fastened on Lani. "Is Cassie back at the pension?"

"No."

"Where is she?"

"I swear she didn't go past me." Guillaume scowled. "Who would think a lady would go jumping from windows and trekking in garbage? It's not my fault. You told me to protect her from Cambre, and that's what I did."

Jared muttered a curse and swung back to Lani. "What the devil is he mumbling about?"

"Perhaps the lady could wait outside while you dress, Your Grace," Guillaume mumbled uncomfortably.

"I've seen naked men before," Lani said curtly. "But put your clothes on, we may have little time. I have a carriage waiting outside. I don't know how long she's been gone."

"Go wake Bradford, Guillaume. Tell him to dress." Jared snatched up his shirt and thrust his arms into it. "Where did she go?"

"Where do you think she went?" Lani sat down at a small table. "I blame myself. I should have known this would happen when she had time to think."

"Cambre," Jared said. Christ, she had gone to Cambre. "He'll kill her."

"She has a dagger."

He pulled on his boots with shaking hands. "Why didn't she wait? Why didn't she let me do it? She knew I planned on killing him."

"You think she wished to murder Cambre before you had the opportunity." She shook her head. "Cassie is capable of vengeance, but not assassination." Her hands clenched on the arms of the chair. "Hurry."

"I'm moving as fast as I can." He jerked on his coat. "Then why did she go to him?"

"Guilt. She hopes to absolve herself."

"You're talking nonsense." He opened his portmanteau and pulled out his pistol. "She did nothing."

"She thinks she did." Her gaze met his across the room. "She believes she loves the man who may have killed her father."

He froze. "What?"

"And she's hoping Cambre will convince her you didn't kill Charles." She smiled grimly. "But he may murder her before she has the opportunity to question him."

"What is it, Jared?" Bradford said as he strode into the room followed by Guillaume. He was fully dressed but his hair was still tousled. "Lani?"

"Cambre. I'll tell you on the way." He started for the door. "Lani, stay here with Guillaume."

"I will not." She rose to her feet. "She's my friend and sister. I may be of help."

"And you may be a hindrance if we have to worry about your safety as well." He turned to Guillaume. "She stays here. I won't forgive you if she slips through your hands too."

She whirled on Bradford. "I wish to go."

He shook his head.

Her eyes blazed at him. "I'll not forgive you for this."

"Then so be it," he said sadly. "I won't risk losing you."

"You've never had me. If you do this, you never will. Let me go with you. You need me."

An expression of agony crossed his features. "Do you think I don't know what a risk I'm running? If I give in to you now, there's a chance I could slide into Deville's place in your life. I could let you take care of me and make my decisions. I could lean on your strength and bask in your affection." He drew a deep breath. "But I'm not Deville, Lani. I need to know that you're alive and well somewhere in this world even if it's not by my side."

He followed Jared from the room. Neither man spoke until they reached the hired carriage waiting outside.

"Do we have a plan?" Bradford asked. "Or is that too much to ask?"

"We're going to get her back."

"Masterly plan. How?"

God, he didn't know. He only knew she mustn't die.

"We're in enemy territory. We can't draw attention to ourselves," Bradford said. "On the other hand, it's clear Cambre doesn't want to attract any surveillance, either. Then, too, we're assuming Cassie needs rescuing, which may not be true. She's an extraordinary woman."

"How calmly you're taking all this."

"One of has to think." He opened the door of the carriage. "I'm not sure you're capable."

Jared tried to subdue his own panic and begin to reason. "We'll look the situation over, and then we'll-"

"Monsieur le Duc?"

Jared stiffened with shock as he whirled to face the man coming out of the shadows.

"How charming you look." Raoul smiled at her from the head of the table as her father seated her. "The lady who wore that gown last wasn't nearly as lovely."

"I'm not at all charming." Cassie indifferently glanced down at the sea-green gown one of the servants had brought her with the tub. "Why didn't your guest take the gown with her?"

"She displeased me. When she left, I allowed her nothing but the clothes on her back." He gestured to the silver plate overflowing with a selection of fruit. "I hope you don't mind serving yourself. I instructed the servants to go to their quarters and stay there."

"Why?" her father asked, startled.

Cambre ignored the question and continued addressing Cassie. "I was certain the gown would be useful someday. One never knows when one is going to be visited by another lady who will prove more accommodating." He smiled. "Tell me, did His Grace find you accommodating?"

"Raoul!" Her father frowned. "This is my daughter."

"A daughter can be a whore."

The bald crudity of the words caused Cassie to stiffen. Cambre was still smiling, but his eyes were cold and watchful. The cat-and-mouse game was ended. He was on the attack, and Cassie found it a relief.

"I'm not a whore." She met his gaze. "And I don't think His Grace would say I was accommodating."

"But he did tell you-"

"That my father was dead," she finished. "Yes."

"And he sent you to exact vengeance?"

"I don't go where he sends me. I came because I wished to do so."

"Perhaps you believed you were doing as you wished, but a clever man can pull the strings with such subtlety that the puppet isn't even aware of the tug."

"As you do?"

He nodded. "I'm a true master of the art." He popped a slice of orange into his mouth. "Well, were you going to stab me with that pretty dagger?"

"Possibly."

He chuckled and turned to her father. "She has courage." His smile faded. "But I think you have one more reason to dispose of our old enemy. It's clear he's dishonored this sweet jeune fille."

"It's not clear to me," her father said.

"Well, why don't we ask him?" He rose to his feet. "He's waiting in the library."

Cassie's heart leaped to her throat.

Cambre's gaze was on her face. "What a revealing response," he said softly. "I think you lie. I believe His Grace must have found you overwhelmingly accommodating."

She tried desperately to wipe every hint of expression from her face. "It's a trick. He couldn't be here."

"Of course he could. I sent for him when I left you this morning."

"You didn't tell me," her father said as he slowly rose to his feet. "You should not keep secrets from me, Raoul."

"Unfortunately, you have a softness for this lovely thing, and I'm weary of waiting in moonlit gardens for the man to pounce. I thought it might be better to draw in the net and bring the matter to a close." He turned to Cassie. "I told him to come at once and unarmed, or I'd slit your throat. I wasn't sure you'd be enough lure to bring him here, but I was pleasantly surprised."

Her throat was dry. "Unarmed? He wouldn't do that. He hates you. I mean nothing to him in comparison."

"Then he's extraordinarily gallant." He moved toward the door. "I want this over. Bring her, Charles."

"I'll bring myself." She pushed back her chair and strode after him. She felt as if she were in a nightmare. Jared was a captive and it was her fault. He was going to die.

No, she couldn't let that happen.

Cambre opened the library door and stepped aside. "After you, mademoiselle. We don't want His Grace to be concerned for your welfare any longer than necessary. It would be unkind."

Jared was sitting in a chair facing the door. He went still when he saw her in the doorway. "Are you all right? He didn't hurt you?"

"You shouldn't be here," she whispered. "Why did you come?"

"I had no choice." Jared smiled. "He had something I couldn't do without."

"You're a fool. He'll kill you."

"Those aren't the tender words a man needs to comfort him in his last hours," Cambre said as he pushed her into the room. "And after sacrificing himself for your sake, too. Most ungrateful."

"I'm here," Jared said coldly. "Now, let her go." He turned to Cassie. "Bradford is waiting for you in the carriage outside. He'll take you to Lani."

"I can't leave you here."

"She's right, she can't leave you." Cambre drew a pistol from beneath his coat.

"What are you saying, Raoul?" Her father entered the library. "Cassie has nothing to do with this."

Jared's eyes widened as he recognized her father. "Deville?"

Her father ignored him. "The trap was for Danemount. No one else was to be hurt."

"Sometimes the innocent are swept away with the guilty," Raoul said as he locked the door. "But she's far from innocent. She was ready to betray you. She played the whore with your enemy."

"She never betrayed you," Jared said. "For God's sake, don't you know what she is? She traveled halfway across the world to try to save you."

"I don't need you to tell me about my daughter."

"Then tell Cambre to go to hell and send her away from here."

Her father whirled on Cambre. "We'll dispose of Danemount first and then we'll discuss Cassie. Give me the gun. I'll do it."

Raoul's gaze narrowed on his face. "How brave you're becoming. I assumed I'd have to do it myself."

"I've been running too long. I want it over, Raoul. Even if you give me a new start, he'd follow me."

"No!" Cassie moved between Jared and Cambre. "You'll have to shoot me first."

"Dammit, get out of the way, Cassie," Jared said.

"You see, Charles." Cambre smiled. "I can't give you the pistol. You don't have the courage to shoot your daughter to get to Danemount." He raised the gun and pointed it at Cassie's chest. "While I have no such compunction."

She was going to die. A bullet was going to tear through her flesh and end her life.

"Raoul, you don't want to do this." Her father started toward Cambre. "Let me have the pistol."

"Stay back." Cambre didn't shift the weapon, but his voice sharpened. "It's exactly what I want to do. As you can see, I took the precaution of arming myself with a double-barreled pistol. So much more efficient than the usual weapon when one is never sure who one's enemies may be. I'll give you one minute to get that interfering bitch from my line of fire before I pull the trigger."

Jared suddenly moved to stand beside her. He said hoarsely, "Get out of here, Cassie."

"Don't be stupid. I can't do that." She placed herself in front of him again and, facing him, put her arms around him. He muttered a curse and tried to break her hold, but she held tight with all her strength.

"How touching," Cambre said. "Quite like your Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, isn't it, Your Grace? I think it fitting your tableau has the same ending."

She braced herself for the bullet.

"You told me I could get Cassie away," her father said. "Keep your promise."

"Oh, very well. But it's a pity to spoil the-son of a bitch!"

Cassie turned to see her father launch himself at Cambre.

A second later they were on the floor, struggling for the pistol.

Jared thrust her aside and darted toward the two men.

A shot.

Blood spattered the Aubusson carpet.

Whose blood? Mother of God, whose blood?

"Fool!" Cambre pushed her father off him. Deville rolled limply, his hands still grasping the pistol that had killed him. Cambre tried to reach for the pistol, but Jared dived toward him, his hands locking around Cambre's throat.

"Let me-go." Cambre clawed at Jared's hands. "We can-deal. I have power. I can-"

Jared was strangling him, Cassie realized. She had never seen murder done. She supposed she should feel horror… something. She felt nothing but fierce satisfaction and regret that it had not been done sooner. Before that shot had taken her father's life. She moved slowly across the room toward her father's body.

"Stop…" Cambre gasped. Then he said nothing at all as Jared's hands tightened.

She fell to her knees beside her father. His skin was pasty and pale, his white shirt bathed in blood. "Oh, Papa, no…"

His eyes opened.

She inhaled sharply in disbelief. He was still alive!

"Didn't want… to die…"

"You won't die." She gathered him close. "I won't let you."

"Is Raoul-dead. Did I kill him?"

"Shh… yes."

"Had to-do it. Knew he-would never let-me live- Couldn't-kill-Danemount-retribution." He touched her cheek. "Lani."

"She's not here. You can see her later."

"Take care of-Lani. I-never did. Wrong. So many wrongs…"

"Shh, Lani loves you. I love you."

"Blessed… blessed…" His eyes closed and a long shudder went through him.

Gone.

Tears flowed down her face as she silently rocked him back and forth.

"Cassie…" Jared's hand was on her shoulder. "We have to leave. Someone may have heard the shot."

She gathered her father closer. "I won't leave without him. He doesn't belong here."

"I wasn't suggesting you do," he said gently. "Stay here and I'll go to the carriage and send Bradford to fetch a wagon."

"It's like losing him a second time," she whispered.

Jared's hand tightened on her shoulder and then fell away. "I'll be right back."

She watched him leave the library, then her gaze fell on the crumpled body of Raoul Cambre. His eyes were wide open and bulging from their sockets. He had not died easily.

Good.

She turned back to her father. He had not died easily either, but his expression was serene. Retribution, he had said. Had he gained absolution by that last act of sacrifice? She hoped it was true. Let him be at peace, she prayed.

Forgive him.

Let him forgive himself.