The Sherbrooke Bride (Sherbrooke Brides 1)

“Yes.”

Tony looked dispassionately down at the general whose face had turned whiter than his nightshirt in his fear of Georges. “It is your decision, Georges. What do you wish to do with him?”

Douglas frowned. He prayed Georges wouldn’t forget his promise not to kill the man. But he wasn’t going to count on it. The rage on Georges’s face bespoke pain and fury so deep it couldn’t be easily assuaged.

The general said, “Your Janine, Cadoudal? I tell you she wasn’t your woman. I had no need to ravish her. I offered her favors, jewels, money, and the like and she willingly came to me, willingly came to all the men who came to her room. They all paid her and she—”

Georges kicked him hard in the ribs, knocking him onto his side.

“That wasn’t excessively wise of you, General,” Douglas said. “I should say that it was rather stupid. Let’s get it over with, Georges.”

Tony saw that Georges was smiling in the candlelight. It was a terrifying smile.

“You know what they do to pigs, Douglas?”

The general didn’t move.

“No,” Douglas said, “but I imagine I am quickly to learn.”

The general shrieked and tried to scramble away on his hands and knees.

“Hold, old man, or I’ll put a bullet through your left calf.”

The general stopped. He was panting hard; he was afraid. He’d been stupid to insult Janine. Now he said quickly, “I know you are an ardent Royalist. I know you want Napoleon exiled or assassinated. I can help you. I have information that will aid you. I can—”

Georges interrupted him easily. “Oh no you don’t, General. You have nothing for me. I know you, you see. You are a fat bureaucrat who has no talent, but some power unfortunately. You are malignant; you are a parasite. It is true I hate Napoleon but I also hate fools like you who bleed those around them and torture them for their own enjoyment. Now enough. My friends and I don’t wish to remain here.”

Amongst the three of them, they dragged the general downstairs and out of the mayor’s charming house.

They returned to the farmhouse by five o’clock that morning to find Alexandra sitting up, wrapped in a blanket, sipping on a cup of very strong coffee. Across from her, on the floor, sat Janine, her hands and feet securely bound, looking furious. She was cursing loudly, yelling to Georges when he walked through the door. All three men stopped short and stared.

“How could you do this?” Georges asked Alexandra, who looked quite fit, given that she’d looked white as death but hours before.

“I tricked her,” Alexandra said. She took another delicate sip of her coffee. “I told her I didn’t feel well and when she came to help me—unwillingly, Douglas—I hit her and then I tied her up. She deserves it for what she did to you, Douglas. Tell me you understand.”

He couldn’t help it. He was laughing. “I understand.”

Janine was shrieking now in French.

“She’s been doing that since I got her tied up, but you see, since I don’t speak French, I cannot understand her. I have no idea what she’s saying. Douglas, is she insulting me?”

Douglas grinned at his wife. “She probably started with you. Now she’s insulting your grandchildren.”

“Actually,” Georges said, eyeing his mistress, “she is now quite fluently attacking your antecedents and all your former pets.”

“I say,” Tony said, “that we should untie her. She looks quite uncomfortable. What do you say, Alexandra? Do you feel you’ve punished her enough?”

Alexandra took another long drink of her coffee. “All right,” she said at last. “I don’t wish to stomp her into the ground, well, I do, but I’m not up to doing it right now, but I wish her to know that I am mean, that I will not tolerate such wretched behavior toward my husband. She will never try to hurt Douglas again. Never.”

Douglas turned and said something very rapid in French to Georges. He and Tony both laughed.

“What did you say?” Alexandra asked, her voice filled with suspicion.

“I said,” Douglas said very slowly, smiling at his wife, “that once you are fluent in French, I will unleash you on Napoleon himself. Georges agrees that the Corsican upstart wouldn’t stand a chance against you.”

“I’m not sure,” she said, frowning, her voice filled with worry, “you see, I don’t think I’m feeling all that well right now at this particular moment. How long will it take me to learn that bloody language?” She paused, her eyes widening on Douglas’s face. “Oh dear,” she said.

She fainted. The coffee mug fell to the floor. Janine stopped cursing. Both Tony and Douglas were at her side in an instant.