Dark Rider

As usual he had struck, then neatly sidestepped any rebuff from her. He would say something that disturbed or touched her, then skip away before she could formulate an answer. She should confront him, be stern with him, perhaps even forbid him to come to her. Not that it would do any good. She had learned that beneath that indolent exterior Bradford could be completely immovable.

Or was she surrendering too easily? she wondered with sudden uneasiness. She couldn't deny she now looked forward to Bradford's company. No day was complete without seeing that rough, craggy face. Silent or verbose, he made her feel… treasured.

He stepped aside and held the door for her. "Just promise me that you won't spend too much time in the scullery. I willingly embraced all those books you love so much, but I've no liking for cookery."

Now that she would not spend so much time with Bradford, surely there was no harm in postponing a total rejection. She smiled serenely as she passed him. "No cookery. I'd not endanger our stomachs. Actually, I pla

"It's young Joe Barry watching the stable tonight." Cassie let the heavy velvet curtain swing back to cover the deeply recessed window. "Jared could at least have sent one of the older men to stand guard on such a cold night."

Lani chuckled as she stretched out her hands to the fire. "You can tell him that at supper tonight. Somehow I don't believe he'll pay heed to your complaints as to his selection of jailers. You like this lad?"

Cassie nodded. "He's the one who sends Josette messages when she's at school." She crossed the library and dropped into a brocade chair before the fire. "And he may spy and follow me around, but he's pleasant about it. Not like that big dour Jack Ramgale, who scowls at me all the time." She leaned forward, resting her hands on her knees as she gazed into the fire. "Josette took me down to the cove to see her sailboat this afternoon."

"And dour Jack followed you?"

"So close I thought he'd step on my heels." She made a face. "Did he think I was so stupid I'd try to sail off with him watching me?"

"Jared's servants are very loyal to him."

"But it did occur to me," she said wistfully. "We were surrounded by water. Why didn't I ever learn to sail a boat?"

"You were too interested in riding horses." She held up her hand as Cassie started to speak. "And, no, I ca

When the time comes. It seemed to Cassie that the time to act would never come. "I dreamed about Papa last night."

"Ah, so this is why you're so restless today. A good dream?"

"No." It had been a blurred, disjointed nightmare. Her father had been swirling in a dark whirlpool and reaching out to her in despair. "We have to find him, Lani."

"And so you're ready to jump into the sea and swim to France to get to him." She shook her head. "He might not even be there yet. You know it's best to let Jared do our searching for us and then go to Charles. I'm in a much better position to know when messages are received now that the servants look to me for orders."

"That's true enough." How strange was their situation here at Morland: half prisoners, half guests, and since yesterday Lani was virtually commanding this vast castle. "But we must have a plan to leave when the word comes."

"We ca

"I'll ask Josette about it." She was more cheerful now that there was action to be taken. Lani was right -they could not waste their scant funds in Paris. They must stay here until word came to Jared. She rose to her feet. "It's time to dress for supper."

"You go ahead. I have time to stay here awhile." She wrinkled her nose. "I don't have to wash off the smell of horse from my person."

Cassie moved toward the door. "As you say, it washes off." She paused at the door, hesitating. "Lani… do you dream of Papa?"

"Not often. I'm not a dreamer, but when I do, they are good dreams." She smiled. "He's doing what he believes is right, Cassie. God will be with him."

Cassie wished she could be as sure. The dream last night had frightened her. God had not been with that poor creature caught in a whirlpool.

"It was a dream, Cassie," Lani said gently. "If you have another, come to me and we will talk about it."

Run to Lani as she had done when she was a small child, and everything would be all right. The problems were bigger now, the dreams more terrifying, and she must face them by herself. Lani had her own burdens to shoulder.

She forced a smile. "I'm sure I won't have any more nightmares about Papa."

Twelve

October 1, 1806 Paris, France

"Monsieur David is in the salon, Monsieur Bonille," Gaston said as he opened the front door, then took Raoul's hat and gloves. "He's been there since before luncheon. I told him he'd have to wait a long time, but he insisted he must see you as soon as possible."

"Indeed? I'm truly flattered. Monsieur David seldom bothers with lesser mortals since Napoleon became his patron." He strolled toward the salon. "I hope you made him welcome?"

The servant nodded eagerly. "But of course, monsieur. He's a very great man, a glorious artist."

Raoul's lip curled. These peasant fools always thought those who stood beside and shared the glory with the Napoleons and the Robespierres of the world were great themselves. He could have told him that it was always the men behind the throne who were the clever ones. He threw open the delicately carved doors of the grand salon. "Ah, Jacques-Louis, how delightful to see you. If you'd let me know you were coming, naturally I'd have postponed my visit."

"I didn't know myself." David rose to his feet. "I had a visitor this morning."

Raoul lifted a brow. "Napoleon?"

David made an impatient gesture. "Would I come ru

Raoul carefully controlled his expression. "How… surprising. How is the dear fellow?"

"Discomposed. He wants to know where Raoul Cambre is."

"And you told him?"

"No, of course not. You swore me to secrecy when you changed your name."

And sealed the vow with a thousand influential introductions and favors. "Brandy?"

David shook his head. "I must go. I've work to do. I've wasted enough light today waiting for you."

"Don't leave yet." He poured a brandy for himself. He needed it. "What do you mean 'discomposed'?"

"Disturbed, tense, frightened. He kept ranting that he had to see you, that he had to be sure. He said that he'd arrived in Paris just last night."

"And he came immediately to you. Interesting."

"He knew we were friends."

David had never been his friend, he thought contemptuously. He'd used the conceited fool as he had all the others. He smiled. "Excellent friends. What was his appearance? Does he seem to be a man of substance these days?"

"No. He was gaunt and his clothes a bit shabby." David frowned. "I felt a trifle guilty lying to another artist." He hastened to add, "Though he's not on my level, of course."

"Of course. There's no one on your level, Jacques-Louis. All Paris knows how brilliant you are."

"I don't like to lie," he said peevishly. "My life is quite comfortable now. It's very distracting having these people pop up out of your past bothering me. First there was that Jean Guillaume asking questions on behalf of the Duke of Morland, and now Deville himself."