Stakes & Stilettos - Michelle Rowen [21]
However, a few hunters with sharp weapons could be stopped.
Thierry thought of his sister, the one who had not died from the plague, but instead at the hands of crazed villagers who, so afraid of death, killed anything they saw as a potential threat. He’d been too late to save her. It was his fault she was dead. The guilt ate at him even after so many years.
There was a wooden box, ornately carved with the symbol of a sun, on a side table near him. He opened it expecting to see more jewels or money, but it contained only two things, which he removed: a miniature painting of Veronique and a red mask. He gazed down at the portrait of his wife, at her perfect beauty, flawless complexion, and haughty expression. There was no denying that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
He placed the painting back into the box and closed the lid. He held the mask up to his face. It felt right against his skin.
The decision was made in that instant. He would continue Marcellus’s secret work. He would take on the Red Devil’s persona. In the memory of his family, he would help those who couldn’t help themselves.
He took the mask, some weapons, the journal, and as much gold as he could carry. And he left the small house the following day to return to his wife in Paris.
Her expression was beautiful but annoyed when he found her.
“Where have you been?” she asked.
He had already decided to tell her nothing. It would be safer that way for her. Marcellus had wanted his secret to die with him. It would.
“I had to leave. I’m sorry if you were worried.”
She laughed lightly. “Worried? No, Thierry, I wasn’t worried. I was disappointed.”
He eyed her warily. “Why?”
“After you disappeared the other night there was a raid of hunters. I barely escaped with my life. Marcellus…” She brought a handkerchief to her mouth. “Marcellus was murdered. I watched him die.”
He frowned deeply and felt a surge of anger at that. Marcellus had told him that Veronique’s safety was assured. “You shouldn’t have stayed. You should have left and hidden yourself at the first sign of danger.”
“As you did?” Her eyes flashed. “No, I would not leave him in such a way. Marcellus was brave. He fought against those who meant to kill me. You ran away like a scared child. So yes, I am disappointed that I am married to such a coward. In fact, I’m surprised that you returned at all. I thought perhaps you would be too ashamed to face me again.”
He fought to keep his expression emotionless. “And yet, here I am.”
She sniffed and dabbed the handkerchief to her eyes. “I miss him, Thierry. I don’t know if he knew how deeply I loved him.”
“Had he lived, would you have left me for him?” he asked.
She looked at him with surprise, concentration creasing her forehead. “I guess we shall never know the answer to that question.” She sighed. “Now, please get my bags. Let us leave this horrible place once and for all. I wish to go somewhere else. Anywhere else.”
“No, not yet. There’s some business I must attend to later this week.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Some business? You?”
“Yes.”
“Very well. Perhaps you have returned from your hiding place with more motivation than you’ve had in the past. It will be a good thing if you have found some goal to achieve other than looking sullen.”
The woman was in mourning for her lover. He would forgive her sharp tongue. Forgive, but not forget.
Her beauty was as incredible as it always had been, but it dimmed slightly for him around the edges from that day forward.
It didn’t matter. Her grief would fade. Their relationship would become comfortable again. She would always think of him as a coward who had run away from a fight. He had to admit that it was an excellent cover.
Thierry kept the truth in a tight ball deep in his chest. It warmed him on many cold nights to follow.
Chapter 4
Attending my high-school reunion tonight, I’d decided, was going to prove one very important thing to me.
I was normal.
No matter what had