‘I hope you aren’t planning to disregard Mr Augustin’s instructions, Sir,’ Percy quizzed him.
‘You wound me, Percy.’ the Reverend retorted. ‘When have I ever failed to follow instructions?’
The rest of the table regarded him silently.
‘The thing is, Grandpapa, you do have a tendency to act first and think later,’ Henrietta murmured.
‘I’ll have you know that my razor-sharp instincts have saved the day on more occasions than I care to remember,’ Augustus Shackleford protested huffily. ‘The King himself declared me a national treasure.…’
‘Oh, you are,’ Henri assured him. ‘I mean, what would any of us do without you? What wouldFlossydo without you?’ She was about to lay it on even browner, when suddenly the inn door opened, revealing a wheezing Antoine.
‘Claude Fontaine is in the Chateau,’ he panted, hanging onto the latch to keep himself upright. ‘The scoundrel has taken Monsieur le Marquis and all your friends prisoner.’
Henrietta felt herself go cold all over. ‘How do you know?’ she demanded, climbing to her feet.
‘The gates are shut, and he’s stationed six of his men directly in front of them.’ Antoine paused before finishing in an agonised whisper, ‘They haveweapons.’
‘So much for deuced diplomacy,’ the Reverend muttered.
‘Be this when we’re meant tae be usin’ our own ‘nishative, Revren?’ Finn asked.
No one spoke as Claude Fontaine stepped over the body of the sailor and sauntered over to an ancient cabinet. ‘I admit you had me fooled,’ he chuckled conversationally, laying his pistol on the top and pouring himself a large brandy, ‘but at the end of the day, your ruse bought you little more than a few hours.’ He turned and regarded them all unblinkingly. ‘I was already on my way back when we bumped intole marin.’
Taking a sip of his brandy, he focused his attention on Tristan. ‘You look very much like your father, nephew,’ he mused. ‘They told me you were his image.’
‘Who told you?’ Tristan queried, his voice carefully expressionless.
‘It is of no import. Are you going to introduce me to your adopted family?’
Fontaine still believed his nephew was here purely to claim his inheritance.Rafe squeezed his hands into fists. Would Tristan pick up on it?
For a few moments, Tristan didn’t respond, but just as his uncle’s rapacious smile began to widen, he swept his hand towards the two couples.
‘Meet my adoptive parents,’ he expounded, with a wolfish grin of his own.
‘My wife and I count ourselves most fortunate to have been part of Tristan’s upbringing,’ Roan enthused without hesitation.
‘Indeed,’ gushed Faith, ‘and I’m certain my sister will tell you exactly the same.’
‘All four of you were involved in bringing the boy up?’ Fontaine commented, his eyes widening in studied disbelief.
‘Oh, absolutely.’ Hope beamed. ‘He brought so much joy to our lives, didn’t he, dearest?’ She tucked her arm in Gabriel’s, giving him an encouraging smile.
Gabriel nodded, directing an affectionate look towards Tristan.
Claude Fontaine’s bewildered frustration was plain to see as he turned to Raphael. Clearly, their flippancy was having an effect. ‘And where do you fit into this cosy arrangement, Monsieur?’ he snapped, nodding towards the corpse lying in the doorway. ‘I must warn you that our mutual friend was surprisingly helpful – while he still had a tongue to speak with, of course.’
Rafe felt his heart contract as he feverishly thought back to the conversation with Taffy. At no point had he mentioned exactly what his role was. Fontaine was fishing.
‘Then you already know that Tristan and I have been friends since school,’ he acknowledged. ‘I was the one who first saw the portrait of his birth father. That was how this odyssey began.’ He looked over at the unfortunate Taffy. ‘I must confess, we werenot expecting violence. What did the man do to warrant such a grisly end?’
‘Lied,’ answered Fontaine shortly. He slammed his empty glass down on the cabinet and picked up his pistol. ‘I think this charade has gone on long enough. You might be here to claim your inheritance, but unfortunately, I am not ready to let you have it. Surely you did not expect to walk in here and simply claim it for yourself?’ His voice turned sneering.
Rafe gritted his teeth. He was well aware that the others were waiting on his lead. Fontaine had made no effort to hide his pistol, but in truth, he must have known he couldn’t overpower all of them. Obviously, he had men waiting within earshot. How far was the bâtard willing to go? He would never get away with killing all of them. Not now so many people knew of the Marquis’s return.
But as he looked into Claude Fontaine’s feverish, almost glittering eyes, Raphael realised that the man was swiftly moving beyond rational thought, and the one possibility he hadn’t considered before that second was that Fontaine might be deranged…
Was now the time to tell him they were aware of his treasonous activities? Doing so could quite easily push him over the edge, but it might also goad him into giving them a name.
