Prince of Ravenscar (Sherbrooke Brides 11)

“Yes, I did look at the window, and yes, I deemed it too small for her, yet she still managed to get through. You were supposed to be sitting outside her door, Crannie. Why didn’t you hear her break the glass?”

Roxanne whispered to Devlin, “Where have I heard his voice? Why won’t he turn around so we can see him?”

“I don’t need to,” Julian said quietly.

All three of them stared at him, but he shook his head.

Crannie didn’t say a word.

Vic said, “Tell the truth, Crannie. Ye were drinkin’, yer brain fuddled, that’s why, ain’t it?”

The man whirled about. “You drunken lout!” He backhanded Crannie across his face, sending him sprawling to the rocky ground. “You stupid sot, I should have known.” He raised his pistol and shot Crannie through the heart.

Crannie didn’t make a sound. He looked surprised, then simply fell to the ground and didn’t move.

Vic said, “Crannie! Ye shot Crannie dead! I’ll kill ye fer that, ye bastid!” And Vic rushed at him.

“You are both incompetent fools,” and he shot Vic in the head. Vic grabbed his head and lurched forward, but then he dropped to the ground beside Crannie.

“Good riddance to both of you.”

Devlin said quietly, “I’m sorry, Julian.”

Julian only nodded. “Stay here, all of you.” He strode around the side of the cottage to see Harlan standing there, h

is pistol at his side, anger radiating off him, slapping his riding crop against his thigh.

“Hello, Harlan. I suppose I’m not really surprised,” Julian said. “When Roxanne told us she believed your voice was familiar to her, I didn’t have the time to pick my way through to you, but I should have. If only I’d really opened my eyes, I would have realized Richard couldn’t have been the one hiding in the shadows, watching our smuggling run that night in Saint Osyth. It was you, wasn’t it?”

Harlan Whittaker whirled around, bringing his gun up.

“No,” Julian said very precisely, his own gun aimed at Harlan’s chest. “No, Harlan, this is the end of it. Drop that gun to the ground or I will shoot you between your eyes.”

Julian watched the other man’s eyes, knew he was considering what to do. Finally, Harlan nodded, dropped the gun to the ground.

“Kick it over to me.”

Harlan kicked the gun toward him. It stopped several feet short.

“It was you that night, wasn’t it, Harlan?”

Harlan was breathing hard. “Yes, it was. How did you know to come here?”

Julian said, “You must have seen his lordship and me coming down the cliff after the three of you, but evidently you didn’t see us run back up. It is always faster to ride than to run. You still don’t understand, do you?”

Devlin said from behind him, “Harlan didn’t realize Roxanne would remember the location of this cottage and bring us here.”

“Prince, Julian—”

Julian said, his voice emotionless, “You and I have worked together for five years, Harlan. I trusted you until—well, I did wonder how anyone could have known about my final smuggling run here at Ravenscar. Who was there to tell?” He said over his shoulder to Roxanne and Sophie, “I never believed Leah knew; we were too careful. And that meant Richard could not have known. Why did you do this, Harlan?”

Harlan’s mouth twisted in a sneer. “You were so trusting, Julian, and you told me everything. I even remember you told me what your long-ago Sergeant Lambert told you, something you lived by but hated, you told me, but it made me smile.”

Julian nodded slowly. “I asked Lambert why men couldn’t ever be content with what they had, and he told me that greed and envy and jealousy were sewn into the very fabric of a man’s body. Evidently, he was right, at least about you, Harlan. Was it greed and envy and jealousy?”

Harlan smiled at him. “That sounds rather damning, doesn’t it? But yes, I suppose that is close enough.”

“I know Richard Langworth took Roxanne that first time, but that was because he believed I loved her. Why did you take her, Harlan?”