Page 123 of A Daring Passion


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Raine swallowed the lump that threatened to lodge in her throat. The past few weeks should have taught her a sharp lesson in allowing her impetuous heart to lead her. After all, if she had used the least amount of common sense she would even now be safely tucked in her father’s cottage. Instead she was in France, the reluctant mistress of Philippe Gautier, and being held prisoner by a lunatic.

Being impulsive was too often a very bad notion.

Unfortunately, her heart was unruly and rarely listened to reason. It demanded that she do whatever was in her power to bring peace.

“Perhaps you could have at least a portion of the money you desire if you were willing to agree to bring an end to your vendetta.”

Seurat backed away, his thin hands trembling as he scrubbed them over his face. “You seek to confuse me. Gautier will never give me the fortune I have been denied.”

“Perhaps not, but I would be willing to offer you the funds.”

“You?” His hands lowered so that he could regard her with open suspicion. “You claim to be a mere sailor’s daughter.”

“True enough, but Philippe has been quite generous.” Her lips twisted at the thought of the glittering jewels. Oddly the notion of handing them over to Seurat made her feel nothing but relief, and yet she would not part with the tiny locket that currently hung about her neck for any fortune. The small bit of gold had belonged to Philippe’s mother and held a sentimental worth that was priceless. “I have jewelry that would keep you in a comfortable style for years to come.”

Seurat’s suspicion only deepened. “You would give me your jewels?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

She gave a vague lift of her hands. “Because I believe that you have been ill-used and are due some sort of compensation. And because my father has taught me that it is my duty to assist others in need. You have greater want of the jewels than I.”

Seurat gave an unconscious shake of his head as he attempted to sort through the tangled confusion in his mind.

“There is more than that,” he at last muttered. “You do not do this simply because you wish to help me.”

She opened her lips to deny his claim, only to hesitate. Seurat was unhinged, but he possessed a certain amount of cunning. Who could blame him for doubting that a strange woman was willing to assist him out of the goodness of her heart?

“Not entirely,” she grudgingly confessed.

“Tell me why.”

Raine turned from the burning gaze, wrapping her arms about her waist. It was not a simple matter for her to confess her concern for Philippe Gautier. The man considered her no more than a pretty bauble that he could enjoy for a time before tossing it away. She should detest him. And still she found herself incapable of denying she possessed an overwhelming need to protect him. Even from himself.

“Philippe is not at all like his father or brother,” she at last said.

The man behind her made a rude noise. “He is a Gautier.”

“By blood, yes, but not by deed. He has no interest in devoting his days to pursuing frivolous diversions or squandering his wealth on his own pleasure. Quite the contrary. He is the one who has retrieved their estates from ruin and carries the burdens of the numerous tenants and servants who depend upon him. He is—” Raine abruptly broke off her words as she realized that she was revealing far more than she had intended. Sucking in a deep breath, she turned to meet Seurat’s narrowed gaze. “He is certainly not a saint, indeed, he can claim any number of sins, but he is undeserving of your revenge.”

The wariness slowly eased as Seurat stepped forward and peered into her pale face. Whatever he read there seemed to satisfy his suspicions.

“You are in love with the man.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

PANIC CLUTCHED AT RAINE’S heart. In love with Philippe? No. Perhaps she had reluctantly come to care for him. And certainly she desired him. There might even be a renegade part of her that occasionally craved his companionship.

But love?

Good God, only the most idiotic female would willingly give her heart to a man who was not only destined to break it in two, but one who would readily use such a weakness to trap her in his silken web. She would never be free of him. Even after he had moved on to another woman she would still be haunted and plagued by the irritating wretch.

She could not be in love. She would not allow it.

Ignoring just how ridiculous such a notion might be, Raine sternly thrust the thoughts from her mind. Now was not the time to be dwelling on such nonsense.

Actually, she preferred never to dwell on the dangerous thoughts.

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