“Then I am free,” she said.
“No.”
“What?”
He moved across the room, picking up his saber, his musket and dirk. “You are going to France.”
“France! No, Eric, I will not—”
“You will.”
Stunned, she swept the covers around her and tried to leap from the bed. She stumbled within her swath of sheets. He caught her, and her eyes, in tempest, met his. “Eric, I beg of you, leave me here. I did not betray you and I’ll not—”
“Alas, I cannot believe you,” he told her softly.
“But you said that I—” She broke off, and his brows raised expectantly. His lip curled as he awaited her words.
She flushed furiously. “You said—”
“You have my forgiveness. Just not my trust.”
“I will not go to France, I’ll escape to England!” she threatened, afraid of the tears that burned behind her lids. He was casting her away, she realized.
“No, you will not. You will not be alone,” he promised her.
“Eric—”
“No! Don’t beg, plead, or threaten! This once, my love, you will obey me.” He hesitated, and his words were bitter when he spoke again. “In France, my love, you can cause us no more harm. I suggest that you dress. Your escort will be here any minute.”
“My escort?”
“Cassidy, Pierre—Jacques Bisset.”
Bisset. She would never escape him to run to England. She knew that. Jacques had never forgotten what the English had done to the Acadians. Nor did he forgive. He was a better guardian than a father might be.
“You cannot do this!” she charged him. Her fingers curled about his arms and she shouted with fear and fury. “Eric, please! Listen to me. I did not do this! You are a fool if you will not believe me. You will be hurt, because the person who did give out this information will betray you again.” He ignored her, moving about. Fear rose, and desperation, and before she knew it, she was shouting in fury, severing anything that remained between them. “Oh, you bastard! I will hate you, I will never forgive you!”
“Cheer up. Dunmore may reach me yet.”
“You should die by the hangman’s rope!”
“Should I? Will you cry—since you do love me so much?”
“Oh, Eric! Please! Don’t send me away!”
He swept her up into his arms and redeposited her upon the bed. He looked into the tearful liquid emerald of her eyes, and for the life of him, he wanted to recant.
His heart hardened. Cameron Hall could have burned to the ground. She had gone with Tarryton. By her own admission, she had gone with the man. More than anything in the world, he wanted to believe that she loved him. He wanted to believe her innocent.
But he could not trust her. He had done so before, and he had been betrayed. Time and time again she had betrayed him. Other lives were at stake.
He smiled, then bent down and kissed her lips. He had to leave, but he could not resist. He cupped her breast with his fingers and felt the anguish of longing burst upon him. He kissed her long and slowly, and stroked her flesh as if he could memorize with his hands as well as his mind.
Then he rose and gazed down upon her ruefully. “Au revoir, my love.”
He turned and walked to the door. She was on her feet again, flying after him. “Eric!”
He closed the door. He heard the thud of her hands against it and then he heard her curses. He stiffened as he listened to the words upon her lips. Then he heard her fall against the door. And he heard the anguish of her tears.
