Raph’s eyes smoldered in the firelight. The decision was made when he read the letter for the first time.
“This household is my charge, and Camelia and Pamela must be shielded from this rot. Montague’s shadow ends here. I’vechosen a solution that doesn’t hinge on payments or half-measures.”
A deep understanding passed between the two friends.
“Will you go to him alone again?” David asked, concerned. “What if he has allies waiting?”
Raph grunted, running a hand through his dark curls. “I doubt that. He’s not smart enough to think ahead for himself. And he has no allies. Only enemies.”
David leaned forward, dropping his voice an octave. “I know your pride won’t allow you to fold. You need to be both the shield and the sword. But be cautious, Raph. The devils we bind today become the demons we fight tomorrow.”
Raph’s response was a firm nod. “I have no intention of letting Montague dictate my family’s fate. Nor my niece’s, nor my in-laws’. This ends with me holding the reins.”
“Then do what you need to do, Raph,” David said softly.
The fire crackled between them, its warmth doing nothing to thaw Raph’s resolve. He paced the study, fastening his coat with rigid precision.
Responsibility settled on his shoulders, but this time, he wore it like armor.
David rose and met his gaze. “I’ll stand with you, every step of the way.”
“I know, but I don’t want you to.”
“Stubborn bastard.”
“This is my battle, David.”
“I know, I know.” David raised his hands in mock surrender.
Raph took a sip of his forgotten brandy and met David’s eyes over the rim of his glass. No more words were needed. Some truths lived only in the silence between old friends.
They drained two fingers of brandy each, and the burn steadied him.
David set his glass down first. “Try not to get yourself killed, Raph.”
Raph gave a short, mirthless laugh. “No promises.”
David’s hand clamped down on his right shoulder. “And you need to tell your wife,” he urged.
“I’ll do my best.”
David’s grip tightened a fraction. “If Montague shows his face beforehand, put one in him for me.”
“If he shows his face,” Raph countered, “there won’t be enough left of him to bury.”
David’s eyes flicked to the crumpled letter in Raph’s fist. “And if it’s a trap?”
“Then I’ll walk into it with a smile,” Raph said, “and drag him to hell with me.”
David released him, stepping back. “Don’t make me attend your funeral before mine, Raph.”
“I have no intention to die at the hands of a rogue,” Raph replied.
David gave a short nod, turned on his heel, and left. The door closed behind him with a soft and final click.
Raph stood alone, the silence roaring louder than any cannon. He watched the door long after his friend left.
If the coming weeks went well and he still breathed, if Pamela still bore his name, and if Lord Montague’s mouth was permanently shut, he would see his friend again.
