Prince of Ravenscar (Sherbrooke Brides 11)

Richard stared at him, rage narrowing his dark eyes. “You ran like the puling coward that you are.”

Julian shrugged. “I ran believing I could somehow outrun my grief. But do you know, there is no place to hide from a desolation that is burrowed in the deepest part of you? Time has faded her face, the way she looked in death, but the pain is still deep. I never knew the pain of loss before, so I do not know if the pain will ever go away.”

“It is your guilt that keeps it fresh, but the pain of loss, of anger at the injustice, is mine and my father’s and my sister’s. But you know that. You still will not admit your guilt to me, will you? There is none near to hear you, so why not?”

“I did not kill Lily.”

“There was no one else, no lover lurking about

. Do you believe she killed herself?”

Julian shook his head. He simply couldn’t bear to think Lily could have shot herself.

“Such a lovely dark night it was at Saint Osyth.”

“So,” Julian said slowly, “it was you watching me and my men bring in our goods.” Thank God he hadn’t allowed Devlin to come with him. “I finally realized it must have been you.”

“I only wish I’d known where you were going. I could have brought a dozen excisemen with me. At least now your amusement is over. You dare not risk using that cove near Saint Osyth again. If you do, I might be waiting for you.”

“Once upon a time you and I went smuggling together, Richard.”

“A lifetime ago. Have you heard of your ship?”

Julian said slowly, “What do you know of the Blue Star?”

“All know she is weeks late. Out of Constantinople, I’m told.” Richard gave him a sneer, nodded, and left him, whistling.

Julian realized in that moment that Richard had planted a man on his ship, and that man had done something. He took a dozen fast steps, grabbed Richard’s arm, and spun him around. He grabbed his collar and hauled him close, saw the shaving nick on his chin, the coldness in his dark eyes. “You will tell me what you have to do with my ship being late.”

Julian felt the muzzle of a pistol pressing into his belly.

“That’s right, Julian, if you do not release me this instant, I will blow your guts out your back.”

Slowly, Julian released him and stepped back. “You obviously want to tell me, or you wouldn’t have mentioned it. What have you done?”

Richard looked at him dispassionately. “I hear your mother wants you to marry Sophie Wilkie. She’s a lovely little pullet, but nothing like Lily. Lily was a goddess. She didn’t deserve to have you as her husband.

“Nothing to say? I heard Sophie Wilkie giggle at something Devlin Monroe said to her. She sounded happy, bless her infant’s heart. She’s an innocent. She doesn’t have any idea what you are, does she? Yet you will draw her in, and she will end up dead.”

“What do you know about the Blue Star?”

“Ah, I see, you’re afraid I may try to attach little Sophie myself. I could, you know. What would you do then, Julian?”

Julian suddenly saw Sophie naked, Richard covering her. He said easily, “I would kill you.”

“And risk being hung? My father would see to it, you know. He is not without influence, and he hates you as much as I do. He now believes you murdered Lily.”

“Richard, look at me. Do you remember the first time we got drunk? It was just the two of us, laughing our heads off, then puking up your father’s brandy. We sailed together on Désirée. We hunted together. We went to Oxford together. How can you believe me capable of killing anyone, much less someone I knew and loved all my life?”

“You are a liar, Julian. Someone saw you. No, I will not tell you who, that would sign a death warrant, wouldn’t it?”

“Then why isn’t Bow Street hauling me off to Newgate?”

Richard said, “I have all the proof I need.”

“I see, Bow Street wouldn’t believe this person, would they? Tell me, Richard, what is this proof?”

Richard leaned close, his breath hot on Julian’s face. “I will make you pay. Soon you will know and understand the pain that is now woven into my life, a pain that invades my dreams.”