Dark Rider (11 page)

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Authors: Iris Johansen

BOOK: Dark Rider
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“You aren’t a coward. It’s not cowardly to try to keep a madman from killing you.”

“He’s not mad. He merely wants justice done.” He
looked back at the cottage. “How much does he hate me, Cassandra?”

She shivered as she remembered that last icy glance from Danemount. “You have to leave here.”

He grimaced. “That much?”

She took his arm and pulled him through the bushes toward the road. “I think we should leave this island. I’ve been wanting to go over to Maui for a long while to see if I could find a mare for Kapu, and you must be tired of painting that volcano. You could go first and find a place for us.”

“You mean a hiding place.”

“Only for a little while. When Danemount leaves, we’ll come back here.”

“You believe he’ll give up? What makes you think he won’t follow us?”

She knew as well as her father did that the Englishman would follow. “Then there are other islands.”

“Not for me.” He stopped when they reached the road and turned to face her. “Have you spent much time with the boy?”

She frowned. “Boy?”

“Danemount.” He shrugged. “It was a slip of the tongue. I still remember him as a lad. It’s difficult for me to realize he’s a man now. But even as a boy he was
très formidable
. Is he the same?”

She could think of no more accurate description for Jared Danemount. “Yes.”

“But just? Would you call him just?”

“Not if he wants to kill you.”

“But in matters not connected with me?”

“Yes, I suppose so,” she said impatiently. “Why are you asking these questions?”

“Because I have to be certain that you and Lani
will be safe when I return to France. A just man wouldn’t wreak vengeance on the innocent.” She went still. “France?”

“There’s an American ship docked on the other side of the island that’s due to sail for Boston at midnight tonight. The king has arranged passage and supplied me with funds to take me on to Paris once we reach Boston. He’s also promised to make sure that your needs are taken care of until I return.” He added ruefully, “He appears to be glad to be rid of me. My departure will evidently solve certain diplomatic problems for him.”

She barely heard anything but the first part of what he had said. “Why are you going to France?”

“Raoul Cambre is there. I have to find him. I have to know—”

“What?”

“If I’ve been as much a fool as I suspect. I’ve been doing a good deal of thinking while I’ve been waiting in the village. I thought Raoul was my friend, but Danemount shouldn’t have been able to find me. I covered my tracks in Marseilles very carefully.”

“You believe Cambre betrayed you?”

“I don’t know. I have to find out. Only Raoul knew I was going to Tahiti.” He frowned. “No, that’s not true. He might have told Jacques-Louis David.”

“Who is that?”

“An artist …” His tone was abstracted. “Yes, he could have told David. They were close friends.”

“What difference does it make now? It’s all in the past.”

“Not to me.” He looked back at the cottage. “Not to him.”

“Then you should forget about Cambre and worry only about hiding from Danemount.”

“I’m weary of hiding.” He turned to face her. “And I’m weary of making you hide. You should be back in Paris going to balls, surrounded by young men courting you.”

“I’m not hiding. I love it here. I wouldn’t know what to do at a ball.”

“Exactly.” He touched her cheek.
“Pauvre petite
, I fear I’ve done you a great disservice. Clara is right, this is no life for you.”

Why was he talking about balls when there was so much else at stake? “Go to Maui,” she said desperately. “There’s no need for you to find this Cambre.”

“There’s every need. It may save my life. If Cambre did use me for his own ends, I’ll have no compunction about surrendering him to Danemount.” He added beneath his breath, “Though God knows if one life will be enough for him after what happened at Danjuet.”

“What are you talking about? Danjuet?”

He shook his head. “There is no time. I must go. The Captain will sail without me.”

“Wait!” She grabbed his arm. “What can you do even if you do find Cambre?”

“I told you, bring him to Danemount.”

“Are you mad? He’s not going to come meekly to be murdered by the Englishman.” She shivered as she remembered Cambre’s cold reptilian eyes. “He’ll try to hurt you.”

“Maybe. Or perhaps he’s weary of hiding too.” He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. “Keep well, Cassandra. Watch over Lani.”

“If you’re going, I’m going with you.”

“To protect me from Raoul?” He shook his head. “Not this time.”

“But you’ll
need
me.”

“It’s too dangerous. Raoul was always clever. I didn’t realize how clever. I’ve no doubt he’ll have gained back all his influence under Napoleon’s regime.”

“All the more reason for me to go.” She turned back toward the cottage. “Wait for me here. I’ll just go tell Lani that—”

“No, Cassandra.” His tone was frighteningly final.

“If you leave me here, I’ll just follow you to the ship,” she called after him.

“Then I’ll tell the Captain you’re not to be permitted on board.” He started down the road. The smile he gave her over his shoulder lit his face with sweetness. “Don’t be so concerned,
ma chou
. Nothing will happen to me. I’ll be back almost before you realize I’m gone.”

“Papa!”

He did not look back again.

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, she watched him walk away from her. Why would he not listen? She had never seen him this resolute. She had always been able to sway him on matters of importance, and yet in this question, which might mean life and death, he stood firm. Should she follow him to the ship? No, it would be a waste of time.

But she could not just let him go alone to face that snake. Her father was a dreamer, and dreamers could be easily fooled. The hunter could well become the hunted.

When he was out of sight, she moved heavily up the path toward the cottage. She could not let him go into danger alone, but she could not see her way clear to stop it. She would have to think about it. In the meantime she must make sure Danemount did not interfere with her father’s departure. Cambre was a
distant threat; the Englishman was the immediate danger.

Lani was sitting on the veranda and rose to her feet when she saw Cassie. “What’s wrong? Why are you here?”

“I met Papa on the path.” She glanced worriedly at the Englishmen. Lani had tucked quilts over them and placed pillows beneath their heads. They did not look ill, only peacefully asleep. “Are they all right? The laudanum wasn’t—”

“It was not too much,” Lani assured her. “Their sleep is very light. I was even worried they would wake before you got back and follow you to the village.”

“Really?” She frowned. “We can’t let them leave before morning. Papa is sailing for France at midnight tonight.”

Lani did not look surprised. “Then you’re right—we must make sure he gets away and out of their reach.”

Cassie suddenly realized Lani might be hurt that her father had been so near and made no attempt to bid her farewell. “He was in a great hurry. He’ll be back as soon as he can. He needs to find a man who can—”

“Hush.” Lani smiled. “You don’t need to defend Charles to me. I know he would not desert me. He’s a good man and he cares for my happiness.”

Cassie felt a rush of relief. Of course he would not abandon Lani. She had not realized until this moment how Danemount’s words regarding her father’s relationship with Lani had disturbed her. She would never have been as tolerant as Lani in the same circumstances. “He made arrangements for us to be cared for by Kamehameha.”

“Which is not going to be necessary,” Lani guessed shrewdly. “Is it?”

She shook her head. “But he won’t let me go with him, and France is far away. It’s going to be difficult.”

“We will find another way.” Lani moved toward the door. “I’ll go tell the old one the English have fallen asleep out here and not to disturb them. It’s fortunate she wishes not to displease them; she may actually obey me. I’ll be back soon and we’ll take turns watching them.”

“No, I’ll do it. You stay inside and make sure Clara doesn’t come out to the veranda.”

Danemount suddenly stirred.

Cassie stiffened in alarm, but he didn’t open his eyes. Thank the Lord. She was not prepared to confront him yet. “Lani, would it be possible for you to go to the stable and bring some rope?”

Lani nodded. “Good idea. I’ll see if I can get past the guards in the garden.”

After Lani left, Cassie slowly sat down in a cushioned chair and gazed at Danemount’s face. Even in sleep he looked guarded and dangerous. What would he be like when he woke?

She would have to worry about that later. She had other concerns right now. She leaned her head against the back of the chair and tried to relax. She had a little time before the Englishman woke, and she would spend it trying to find a solution to the problem facing them.

Danemount stirred three times in the hours that followed. Cassie tensed on every occasion but then relaxed when he returned to sleep. It was near three in the morning before he finally opened his eyes.

She held her breath as she saw his drowsiness vanish. “My God, you poisoned me.”

“I did not,” she said quickly. “I only drugged you.”

“Only?”

“It was necessary.”

“I’m sure Lucrezia Borgia said the same after she used her poison ring.”

Lucrezia. That was whom he had meant when he had called her by that name. “Lani said that there’s some doubt Lucrezia Borgia ever used poison, and I certainly did not. I only used a few drops of laudanum in the syllabub to put you to sleep.”

“Laudanum? That can be a dangerous potion. How did you know how much was safe to give us?”

She squared her shoulders, prepared for battle. “I didn’t know. I took a chance.”

“I suppose I should count myself fortunate to wake at all,” he said with lethal softness. He glanced at the still-slumbering Bradford. “Is he alive?”

“Of course he is. He should wake soon.”

“He had better.” His gaze moved back to her. “Or you’ll join him in his sleep.”

Dear God, he was angry. His voice was low, almost silky, his face without expression, but she could sense an icy rage beneath that composure. “Threats will do you no good. I’m not afraid of you.”

“You should be. If you knew my— What the devil!” He had started to sit up and discovered the cords around his wrists. He went rigid. “You’ve bound me!”

His rage was no longer controlled, and she tried to ignore the fear that spiraled through her. “Yes, both wrists and ankles.” She added with bravado, “Trussed like a pig for the roasting.”

He stopped struggling. “Or for the assassin’s knife? When do you expect your father, Madam Borgia?”

“I’m not—” She broke off and drew a deep breath. “And my father would never kill a helpless man.”

“No more than his daughter would chance killing a man with a potion she knows nothing about.”

“Would you have stood by and let someone set a trap for a person you loved without trying to stop him?”

“I would have tried to find—” He wearily shook his head. “No, I suppose I would have done the same.”

His honesty took her off guard, and a little of her anger ebbed. “I tried to be careful with the laudanum,” she said haltingly.

“How comforting.” His lips twisted. “You didn’t answer. When do you expect your father?”

“I don’t. I’ve already seen him.” She paused. “And by now he’s no longer on the island.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“No, you’ll probably go to Kamehameha and question the islanders and waste a good deal of time. It will do you little good. Kamehameha wanted my father safe and arranged to send him away.”

He studied her. “By God, I believe you’re telling the truth. Now, why would you tell me he’s no longer here? It would give him a head start if I searched this island first before going to the other islands.”

“Because I don’t want him to have too much of a head start.”

Surprise flickered in his expression. “Would you care to elaborate?”

“I wanted him to go to Maui, but he wouldn’t do it. He sailed for Boston at midnight. From there he’ll make his way to France.”

“Indeed,” he murmured. “Now, why did he do that?”

“Raoul Cambre.”

His expression hardened. “Ah, yes, like to like. He went running to beg help from his fellow conspirator.”

“He’s not like that man,” she said fiercely. “And he didn’t go for help. He went to see if he was wrong in his judgment of Cambre. He wanted to know if—” She broke off as she saw his skeptical expression. She would never be able to convince him of anything he didn’t want to believe. “What difference does it make why he went? You don’t care.”

“But I do care where he’s hiding. Where in France?”

“I don’t know.”

“But you have an idea.”

“Perhaps.” She had pitifully few scraps of information garnered from that long-ago encounter with Cambre, and only one name—Jacques-Louis David. She was not even sure the artist was still alive. “Perhaps not.”

“Now the pertinent question. Why tell me anything at all?”

“Because I couldn’t afford to have you waste time here when we could be on our way to France.”

He didn’t speak for a moment.
“We?”

She took a deep breath and then said in a rush, “I’m going with you.”

His expression remained impassive. “I don’t believe you were invited. Why should I be interested in taking you with me?”

She had known he would ask that question and was prepared. “For the same reason you were keeping me
prisoner here. I’d be a hostage to draw my father into your net.”

“My, how accommodating you’ve become. You’re now willing to be bait for the trap?”

“No, I’ll escape at the earliest opportunity. I’m merely telling you what advantage you’d see in taking me. I didn’t say that it would be a true advantage.”

He looked taken aback, and then the faintest smile quirked his lips. “I see. You wish to use me and then flee.”

She nodded. “Few ships stop here, and it might be months before I’d be able to follow my father to France.”

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