“No,” she whispered. “Reynaud, you cannot.”
“Hush.” He shook his head slightly and almost smiled. “You’re alive. That’s all that matters.”
“She’s alive and I want the money,” Lord Hasselthorpe said impatiently.
“What guarantee can you give me that she’ll go free?” Reynaud was staring at her, as if memorizing her features.
Beatrice felt ice begin to form at her center. “Reynaud,” she whispered, pleading now.
“My wife is in residence,” Lord Hasselthorpe said. “She has nothing to do with this. I’ll put Lady Blanchard into her care and send the both of them to London. I’ve already sent a footman to bring Adriana here.”
“You don’t intend to take your wife with you?” Reynaud’s eyes were horribly gentle, and though he spoke to the other man, his gaze never left her face.
“Why should I?” Lord Hasselthorpe replied impatiently.
The corner of Reynaud’s mouth twitched. How could he find any of this amusing? “A certain sentimentality, perhaps?”
“I haven’t time for sentimentality or your wit,” Lord Hasselthorpe snapped. “If you want your wife to live to see the dawn—”
“Very well.” Reynaud threw the saddlebag at Lord Hasselthorpe’s feet just as Lady Hasselthorpe appeared in the doorway to the dungeon.
“Why, my lord, you didn’t tell me we had guests,” Lady Hasselthorpe exclaimed as if being woken before dawn to greet callers in the dungeon was perfectly normal. She seemed not to notice that her husband held a gun on one of her “guests.”
She made to step into the dungeon, but the burly footman by her side prevented her. “Best not, my lady. ’Tis dirty down here.”
Lord Hasselthorpe nodded to the man. Despite the footman’s words, his real reason for stopping her must be so that she wouldn’t get too near Reynaud.
“I’d like you to take Lady Blanchard to London, my dear,” Lord Hasselthorpe said. “She’s ill and Lord Blanchard and I have business to discuss.” He reached behind Beatrice with one hand and unlocked the chains about her wrists.
Beatrice’s heart sank. “Reynaud, I can’t leave you here.”
Lord Hasselthorpe gave Reynaud a hard look. “It matters not to me, but you know the alternative.”
Reynaud’s mouth thinned. “Let me talk to her.”
“As you wish.”
Reynaud bent to her ear, his face against hers. Beatrice’s hands were still tied behind her back. She wished they were free so she might feel his dear face.
“You must leave with Lady Hasselthorpe,” he whispered in her ear.
She felt hot tears overflow her eyes. “No. No, you said you would never put yourself in another man’s power again.”
“I was wrong.” His breath caught on a quiet laugh that blew against her cheek. He smelled of horse and leather and her husband. “So very wrong. I was foolish and vain, and I nearly didn’t realize it in time. I nearly lost you. But I didn’t.”
“Reynaud,” she sobbed.
“Shh,” he whispered. “You asked me if I loved you. I do. I love you more than life itself. Nothing matters in this world but that you live. Can you do that for me? Can you live?”
What could she say? He was sacrificing himself, she knew that. Sacrificing himself for her and he wanted her to just walk out of this room and leave him here….She shook her head, her throat swollen shut with grief.
He took her face between his palms and looked at her, and for the first time since his return, she saw the laughing boy of the portrait in his black eyes. They stared at her, confident and whole, with the hint of a mischievous gleam.
“Yes, you can,” he said in that low, deep voice she loved so much. “For me. Live for me.”
“I love you,” she whispered, and she saw gladness in his eyes.
She turned, stumbling, and walked from that hellhole. Lord Hasselthorpe said something, and Lady Hasselthorpe babbled and chirped, but she heard none of it, because she was leaving Reynaud behind. She turned one last time at the door and looked over her shoulder.
Reynaud was kneeling next to the stone wall where she’d been chained. She saw that there were three iron rings set in the stone wall. She’d been chained to the middle one, but now iron links were threaded through the two outer rings. Reynaud’s strong arms were outstretched wide, and Lord Hasselthorpe was watching as the burly footman fastened chains to his wrists. The cold stone floor must’ve been hard against Reynaud’s knees, and she knew the chains were painful, but he met her eyes and smiled at her.
Smiled as they chained his arms in a cross.
WHEN HE’D ESCAPED from captivity, so many months ago now, he’d vowed that he’d never let himself be caught alive again. He’d sworn to himself that he’d die before being taken by an enemy. And he’d meant that vow, truly.
But now Reynaud broke that vow. He kneeled at the feet of his foe, his arms stretched wide and chained to the wall, helpless, and he was glad. None of it mattered as long as Beatrice was alive. He could face this and worse as long as she lived.
Hasselthorpe bent and opened the saddlebags. Mater’s sapphire necklace spilled into the lantern light. Hasselthorpe grunted and picked up the jewels.
“Very nice.” The dark blue stones sparkled as he examined them. “The Blanchard jewels, if I’m not mistaken.” He grinned at Reynaud.
Reynaud shrugged. “You’re not.”
“Very nice indeed.” Hasselthorpe shoved the necklace back in the leather pouch and began tying the cords as he spoke to the brute of a footman. “See that my horse is ready and my bag brought down. The boat sails in two hours, and I must be away to meet it in time.”
For the first time, the big servant showed signs of independent thought. He hesitated, glancing at Reynaud. “An’ him?”
Hasselthorpe looked at the footman coldly. “That’s none of your business.”
The man shifted from one foot to the other. “But, see, they’ll blame me.”
“What?”
“For him.” The footman jerked his chin in Reynaud’s direction. “You’ll be gone and I’ll have a dead aristocrat on me hands, and the first one they’ll be looking at will be me.”
Reynaud grinned. The man had a point.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Hasselthorpe burst out just as the door opened to the dungeon.