“Mon dieu.”The marquis sat in a flourish.“Do you think me so cruel?”
Caleb studied him, noting a drop of venom hidden behind the friendly gleam covering his eyes.“I grow weary of this verbal dalliance.What was your part in it?Geneviève believes she overheard whispers of a planned attack.”
“Geneviève loves you.She’ll say anything to make you happy.”Rising, he moved to a sideboard and poured what looked like port into crystal snifters.Spinning, he handed one to Caleb.
Caleb held up a hand in refusal even as he pondered the truth of his statement.
“Ah,oui, the missionary.”Montverre gave a huff of contempt.
“Then, pray tell,”—Caleb crossed arms over his chest—“what exactly will you admit to?”
Montverre swirled the ruby liquid in his glass before taking a measured sip, his eyes never leaving Caleb.“I admit I found your family’s endeavors most…curious.A strange mélange of nobility, pirates, and missionaries.”He exhaled through his nose, the sound more disdain than breath.“Vraiment,it is beyond comprehension that men of gentle birth should abase themselves so, to succor escaped slaves and mere peasants.I confess,Capitaine, I shall never fathom why your noble house would renounce its God-ordained station, to squander time and treasure upon common rabble.”
A sentiment Caleb oft heard, particularly from those in positions of power and wealth.“Yet, you aided our benevolence… sent food and supplies.”
The marquis shrugged.“One must do what they can to earn a spot in eternity,non?”He returned to his desk, quivering the light of two candles perched in silver holders as he passed.
Caleb glanced at the shelves of old tomes, wondering if the Holy Scriptures could be found among them.“You cannot earn your way to heaven by good works, Monsieur le Marquis.”
“Ah, your protestant beliefs.”The words dripped from his lips like arsenic.
“Was that the reason, then?”Caleb narrowed his eyes.“You despise our beliefs?”
“While I agree it was difficult to see such heresies spread, even among slaves, your mission became too large.The plantation owners on surrounding islands approached me, fearful of a slave uprising and being murdered in their beds.Too many of their own slaves had escaped, many making their way here.”
“Hence, you allowed them to attack us.”Caleb gave the man a venomous look.
The marquis hesitated for a moment, a debate raging behind his eyes.Then, as if a winner had been declared, he said, “They paid me quite well.”A challenge rode on his grin, as if he wanted Caleb to draw his blade.“Either way, I won.I disposed my island of you and your indulgent mission, and I was paid handsomely for it.”
Caleb had suspected as much, but to hear it from the man’s lips… “I should kill you for this.”Rage fired through his veins as his hand gripped the hilt of his blade.
“But you won’t.Your faith in your God prevents it, does it not?”He finished his port, set down the glass and smiled.
Fury broiled in Caleb’s throat until he found it hard to breathe.For a moment, he longed to put aside his faith and murder this man where he stood.
Still, the blackguard’s confession should bring a measure of peace to Caleb’s tormented soul, some assurance that even if he had known, he could not have prevented the attack.But he could have prepared and perhaps saved lives.Saved his sister from the humiliation and pain she still relived in nightmares.Saved himself from the past two years of distrust, both in himself and God.
And all because of this bloated jackanapes standing before him, daring him to attack, to enact his revenge as every muscle within Caleb longed to do.
Forgive him.
Caleb had not heard that still small voice in quite some time, but the peace it brought was unmistakable.
But forgive him?This man who glared at him now with hubristic condescension?Caleb tightened his grip on the hilt, his fingers itching to rid the world of one more monster.
♥
Despite her anger at Caleb for lying to her about meeting Geneviève, Desi sank into a lonely despair after he left the parlor.And that bothered her most of all.She’d never needed a man, never depended on one for anything—money, support, protection, and especially that fickle thing called love.Too many men in her life had let her down, her father first for leaving her and her sister alone in the world.Then there was Jimmy Hanson in seventh grade who dumped her after a month of going steady.And what about Rich Kyle, the football quarterback in high school, the envy of every girl?He’d promised to love Desi forever, when what he meant to say was that he’d love her until someone prettier came along.Add to that the countless uninspiring dates since, in which every guy only wanted to hook up on the first night.
But Caleb.He was different.Brave, honorable, a noble champion.When he was near, she felt complete.And that was the biggest injustice of all.
Foolish man.He walked into a trap.She knew it.Couldn’t he see this marquis dude only had it out for him?
So absorbed with her thoughts, she didn’t see Geneviève approach, her silk skirts flouncing over the rug, her smile polished, yet cool.
Alden said something to Liam before speeding out the door.Good.Maybe he was going to ensure Caleb’s safety.
Liam popped a piece of candied pineapple into his mouth and grabbed another cup of hot cocoa before sitting in the high back chair Montverre had vacated.
