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“I can’t stand to go through it all again,” he said, grimacing, “and anyway, we both know I’ve had more time than I ever deserved. And now my girls have a new and better mother over in the states, they’re set. Everything as it should be.”
Blake had apparently remarried out there, a shiny new ring on his wedding finger.
“You canna give up, man.” Caelan laid his knuckles on the breakfast table, hunched over so he could look into Rathbone’s eyes. “No until she’s seen ye one, last time.”
“I don’t think I can.” Rathbone didn’t just sound tired, but defeated. Ready for the end.
Had he already decided he would give Sherry what she most wanted, just to finish it? Once and for all.
Caelan took a seat and Blake got a good look at him. “You don’t look so good yourself.”
He tipped his head back and sighed. “I’ve been caught up in a diplomatic situation.”
Rathbone grimaced. “Rather you than me.”
“Aye, I’d have to agree there,” he groaned.
Rathbone rubbed hands around his face again, as if his skin were crawling. Perhaps whatever had befallen him this time had already progressed.
“What is it she wants?” asked Caelan.
“I don’t know if she knows that herself.”
It was Caelan’s turn to rub his tired eyes. “Should I have her done away with?”
“Could you?” Blake looked hopeful for a second.
“Aye, but…”
“She’s your own mother,” he answered.
“Aye.” Caelan raised his eyebrows. “And I think, there’s more to this. Something she’s searching for. Money, maybe. Doubt it, though. More likely information, something only you’d know.”
Blake thought it through. “She just wants me to suffer because I outwitted her.”
“Aye.”
“But…”
Caelan sat forward, hands clasped. “What, man?”
“I think at this point she knows she will never go free. The evidence your pal got hold of was far too damning for her to ever get off, no matter if I surface or not.” Caelan couldn’t disagree. “She’s not doing this to get free or get money.”
“So, she just wants to hurt us,” said Caelan.
“And she won’t stop until she does.”
Caelan frowned and sat back, arms folded. “So what shall we do?”
“I’ll think about it.”
Caelan stood up and grunted. “I’ll be back tomorrow. I’ll borrow an armed guard and we’ll take you to Flora.”
Blake gulped. “If you think it wise.”
“Nae, I think it necessary.”
In the dim corner of an ultra-exclusive private members’ club, Caelan found the prince with his back to the room, the wood-panelled, leather-accented, high-ceilinged space having been cleared out for his particular use.
