“I go by Raphael now,” he said without thinking.
Her brow crinkled. “Raphael?”
“Yes. My second name.”
“I see. Well, whatever you like.” She picked up a delicate cup, took a sip and returned it to her side table. “Would you like a cup of crystal liquor?” she asked. “A cookie?” She pointed to a decorative plate covered with bite-sized treats.
“No, thanks. I’m not hungry. Let’s get to it, shall we?”
“Fine.” Undaunted, Claudia pivoted easily. “I called you here today to make you a lucrative offer.”
“You called me here today because you think I know where Victor Campion is, and until he’s caught and put away, you can’t make a claim to his title.”
“Always right to the point. I like that about you, Luth—I mean, Raphael.” Her gaze fastened on his face. “The years have been kind you. Surprising, given what you do for a living.”
Raphael smiled. “You haven’t aged a day since the last time I saw you.” He knew she valued flattery and his observation was sincere. She’d obviously spent a goodly amount to look younger than her years.
Her head cocked to one side as if she didn’t expect him to be civil. “Thank you.”
Raphael glanced around the room and noticed that things looked worn, for lack of a better word. Every surface was tidy and clean, but the furniture was not new, as he would have expected. Did she have financial issues? Was that why she’d concocted this plan to get rid of Victor?
“What’s your offer, Claudia?”
“I’d like you to find Victor and turn him in to the authorities. I believe you have the best chance of making that happen.”
“Victor is my best friend. Why would I ever do that?”
“Because once he’s been captured and convicted for the murder of his poor father, I’m in line to inherit the title, of course. The longer Victor remains uncaptured, the longer the Campion affairs will languish.”
“What about Roger Campion?”
“What about him?”
“He’s got a claim to the title as well, doesn’t he? What if he makes me a better offer?”
“He won’t.” Claudia’s expression darkened. “He doesn’t have a valid claim.”
Raphael fixed his stare on her face, surprised she didn’t consider Roger a foe. “That’s not what I’ve heard.”
“Well, I have some information that ensures I’m the only heir. After Victor, of course. But he killed his father. Once he’s executed or put into a gulag or whatever, the title is mine.”
“What if he’s found innocent?”
She shrugged. “I don’t believe that is possible.” She didn’t question Victor’s guilt.
“Okay. Let’s say I’m willing to betray my lifelong friendship with Victor—and that’s a big if—what could you possibly offer me that would be worth it?”
“Once I’m in charge of the Campion estate, I could help you, Luther—I mean, Raphael,” she said. “You’ve done well for yourself after I’m certain was the heart-wrenching loss of your family, but I could be your champion. I could ensure you have the best of whatever you desire, once I’m confirmed as the Campion heir.”
You don’t want to marry me?
He didn’t know whether to be relieved or insulted. Both feelings vied for attention. Something about her offer didn’t feel quite right.
Claudia didn’t act like she was scheming to gain a title she’d orchestrated a murder and subsequent frame-up of Victor to acquire. She didn’t even have a calculating attitude. Instead, she had an air of expectation, perhaps desperation. Time to put his cards on the table.
He seated himself across from her, hearing the chair creak the moment his butt hit the cushion. “What makes you think Roger doesn’t have a claim to the Campion title? It’s my understanding that both of you have an equal entitlement. Won’t a magistrate have to decide the fate of the Campion title once Victor is formally stripped of it? Perhaps you’ll only get half, if any at all.”
Claudia considered his question for a long time, as if trying to decide whether to trust him with whatever information she had on Roger that made his claim null and void.
