Page 49 of Lord Ramsey's Red-Headed Ruin
Vaillancourt. Damn him to hell.
She forced back hot tears and made her plan.
She finished dressing the lovely, fat fish and brushed and washed her hands. She had potatoes to quarter…and a wonderful man to help her.
She would finish making their dinner. They would enjoy the fish and potatoes and the frilly lettuce salad. Ram had bought good white wine from the Loire vintner in the square, and they would make a celebration of the meal.
After they ate, Ram planned to go to Ashley’s house to announce his and her return to Paris. He would deliver the vital news about the weapons, then return to her, and they would enjoy the satisfaction of his having done his duty. They would celebrate that in word and deed and in their bed upstairs. She would not harm this night filled with so much success and joy.
Tomorrow she would discuss with Ram her need to go to the meeting place of her superior. She had no choice but to try to persuade Ram to allow it.
For what else was the finest love composed of, but the duty to be true to yourself and offer the one you adored the finest person you would ever be?
Chapter Thirteen
July 11, 1802
Ram stood bythe fire in his friend Ashley’s parlor, his hands behind his back. He waited impatiently for minutes before he heard Kane’s footfalls come down the hall toward him.
As the door opened, Ram smiled and greeted Kane.
“Good God, am I happy to see you!” Kane strode forward, arms out to embrace him. Lines of worry on his face eased. Ram had known his friend would fret about him and his efforts to find Amber these past weeks.
They patted each other on the back, then broke apart.
“Come sit down,” Kane said.
Ram took a chair, as did Kane. His friend gave him a once-over, and Ram knew his clothing told a certain tale. Purposely tonight, he wore dark, modest clothes resembling that of a bourgeois merchant. He had not wished to call attention to himself and prepared well to see Kane in secret. He wished to put his friend’s mind to rest about the chances he took coming here.
“I came in the back door,” he said, “through the gardener’s shed and up into your orangery.” Ram arched a brow in humor as he crossed one leg over the other. “We are newly arrived in Paris, and I wished you to know.”
“Madame St. Antoine is with you?”
“She is. And has been in my company for many weeks now. She is healthy, whole, a challenge—and at times a real hellcat.”
Kane burst into a short laugh. “Whatever the circumstances, I am overjoyed that you found her and that both of you are well. I feared for you. But then, I am sure you know what misery that was. I am thrilled you are here and well. You look, dare I say, happy?”
“Please!” Ram grimaced. “Grace me with no flowers, Whit. The duty to find the lady was nothing to the challenge of persuading her to allow me the honor of protecting her.”
Kane gazed at him as if he saw a new man. Perhaps he did.
“Amber and I arrived in Paris day before yesterday.” Ram fixed his friend with a generous smile, something he knew Kane had not seen on him very often. “We read in a scandal sheet you recently married Augustine Bolton. I bring you congratulations from Amber and from me, my friend.”
“Thank you. We are, I am pleased to say, very happy.”
“I am thrilled for you. It is what you needed.”
Kane arched both brows and grinned. He seemed a different man as well. Could it be he was a man in love with his wife? Ram knew the power of caring for another now, how it changed a man’s perspective and made him anxious and eager to protect the woman he adored.
Kane gave a sharp laugh. “I did. But no man voices it, does he?”
“Never good for one’s image.” Ram ran a hand down his thigh. “Let me get to this. I come for a few reasons. I want them said quickly, and then I return to Amber. I do not want her without me for long. I have hired men as guards, but you know how that goes. You have five, your opponent has ten. It’s never safe for long.”
“Do you fear Vaillancourt knows where you are?”
“I gather your wife has told you how he hounds Amber.”
“She has. We encountered one of his men in Varennes.”
