Page 88 of Their Master

“And him?” Etienne gestured to Luke with the gun.

“You would kill somebody to protect a pair of criminals?” Thibaut scoffed, once again speaking French.

Etienne opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Turnbull and his nephews stared from her father to her brother, their furrowed brows telling Moira they didn’t understand French.

When Etienne hesitated, theComteshook his head and snapped his fingers at the two men. “Go!”

They picked up Smith’s body and hurried from the room and theComtefollowed them, leaving his children without a second glance.

Fury distorted Etienne’s handsome face as he glared at Moira. “See what you’ve done?” He lowered the hammer and shoved the gun back in his coat. “Stay here with yourservantif you want. I won’t ask father to wait for you.”

And then he, too was gone.

“Luke?” Moira shook the huge man’s shoulder. Luke’s eyelids flickered, but he didn’t move.

Moira brushed back a tear. “I’m sorry, Luke.” She kissed his temple. “I’m so sorry.”

She pushed to her feet and stumbled to her dressing room, snatching up the beautiful fur-lined cloak Smith had bought for her and wrapping it around herself.

And then she went to join her family.

Chapter 21

“Wake up, you pig!”

The icy water did more to wake Smith up than the slap in the face.

When he opened his eyes, it was to see three people staring at him. One face was new to him, one face he’d not seen in thirty-six years, two months, and six or seven days—depending on what day it was now—and the last was a face he’d believed he might one day come to love.

Smith dredged up a smile for theComte.“It has been a long time, my lord.”

Thibaut, theComte de Blois, glared at him with a hatred so raw that it verged on madness.

“You must be Etienne,” Smith said to the angry young man who bore more than a passing resemblance to both his sister and Blois

Etienne Bardot scowled.

Smith turned to the third person.

Moira’s face was blank—more unreadable, even, than usual. “Hello, Honorine.”

Her blue-green eyes bulged and she looked from Smith to her father, as if hoping for something from him—reassurance, perhaps.

Smith wasn’t surprised when Blois ignored her; he knew theComtegave more care to the thoroughbreds he raised than he did to his illegitimate offspring.

Blois strode toward Smith and struck him with the flat of his hand, hitting him hard enough to almost knock over the chair Smith was tied to.

Moira gave a startled yelp. “Please, don’t—”

TheComteignored her and struck him again.

“Where is the body?” Blois demanded.

Smith shook his head and blinked up at severalComtes. He smirked. “I’m not going to tell you, so you might as well kill me now.” His smirk grew into a grin. “And then you willneverknow.”

Blois roared and jumped on him, knocking over the chair, and coming along with it. “You bastard! You demon!” His hands tightened around Smith’s throat and he squeezed, slamming his head on the ground over and over.

Smith grinned up at the man’s demented expression, wishing his vision wasn’t darkening quite so quickly. Wishing he could get a better look at all the pain and suffering he’d caused the other man.

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