The Handmaiden's Necklace. Kat Martin

was what she wanted—wasn’t it?

      She needed to talk to him, discover his intentions.

      Dani made a quick survey of her reflection in the tall, cheval glass mirror, turning to assess the back of her pale blue muslin day dress, straightening the slim skirt, adjusting the high-waisted bodice.

      The gown looked presentable and Caro had pulled back her hair on the sides and fastened it with tortoiseshell combs, but a heavy mass of curls fell down her back.

      “You look fine,” Caro said, tugging her toward the door. “You wanted to talk to him. Now go find out why he is here.”

      Dani took another deep breath and raised her chin. She squeezed her hands together until they stopped shaking, then headed for the stairs. As she entered the parlor, a comfortable room done in shades of white and soft rose, she spotted Rafael’s tall figure seated on the sofa. He came to his feet the instant she walked through the door.

      “Thank you for seeing me,” he said very gallantly.

      “Did I really have a choice?” She knew Rafael. If he wanted to speak to her, aside from shooting him, there was no way to keep him away.

      “No, I don’t suppose you did.” He motioned toward the sofa. “Join me?”

      “I would prefer to stand, thank you.”

      Rafael released a breath. He was six years older than she, which meant he would be thirty-one by now. Fine lines crinkled beside those blue, blue eyes, and there was a weariness in his features that hadn’t been there when he was younger. Still, he was handsome. One of the handsomest men she had ever seen.

      She felt those intense blue eyes on her face. “I have traveled thousands of miles to see you, Danielle. I understand your animosity toward me—no one could understand it more—but I would appreciate it if you would sit down so that we might have this chance to speak.”

      Dani blew out a breath. Knowing it was useless to argue, she went over and sat down on the rose velvet sofa and Rafe walked over and closed the parlor doors. She was surprised when he settled himself beside her a barely respectable distance away.

      “Shall I call for tea?” she asked. “Since we are suddenly being so civilized.”

      “Tea isn’t necessary, only your attention. I came here to apologize, Danielle.”

      Her eyes widened. “What?”

      “You heard me correctly. I am here because everything you said was true. That night five years ago, I am the one who betrayed you, not the other way around.”

      She swallowed, suddenly feeling light-headed. She was glad she had agreed to sit down. “I’m afraid I don’t…don’t understand.”

      Rafe turned more fully toward her. “Oliver Randall lied about what happened that night—just as you always claimed. He engineered everything, right down to the note I received, which was the reason I went to your room that night.”

      Rafe explained the events of the evening and the reason he had been so convinced she was having an affair with Oliver Randall. The story was so incredible that the words began swimming round in her head.

      “Why…?” she asked softly. “Why would Oliver do such a thing? I tried to figure it out, but it never made any sense.”

      “He did it because he wanted you for himself. He was in love with you, Danielle, but he couldn’t have you. And he was insanely jealous of me.”

      Dani leaned back on the sofa, her heart beating oddly, a tight feeling inside her chest. Rafe got up and walked over to the sideboard. Pouring a dollop of brandy into a crystal snifter, he returned to where she sat and pressed the brandy glass into her hand.

      “Drink this. It’ll make you feel better.”

      When she made no effort to raise the glass, he wrapped his fingers around hers and lifted the snifter to her lips. Dani took a tentative swallow, felt the warm burn, and took another. In truth, she did feel somewhat better.

      She looked up at Rafael, still unable to believe he stood there in the parlor. “How did you find all of this out?”

      “I hired an investigator, a Bow Street runner, a man I had used on a number of occasions before.”

      Danielle shook her head. “I still can’t believe it.”

      “What is it you don’t believe?”

      “That you would travel thousands of miles simply to tell me you were wrong.”

      “And also to tell you that Oliver Randall paid the highest price for his treachery.”

      Dani came up off the sofa so swiftly brandy sloshed against the sides of her crystal glass. “You killed him?”

      Rafe took the snifter from her unsteady hands and set it down on the table. “I challenged him to a duel, as I did before, only this time I forced him to accept. My shot bounced off a rib and lodged in an area around his spine. Oliver Randall will never walk again.”

      She tried to feel something, tried to make herself abhor what Rafael had done. But she knew the code of honor a highborn Englishman lived by. Knew that if Rafe ever discovered the truth, he would make Oliver pay.

      “I’m sorry,” she said finally.

      “For Randall? Don’t be.”

      “For all of us. For the years we lost. For the damage that was done.”

      “Randall destroyed our lives, Danielle. Mine as well as yours. You might not believe it, but it’s true.”

      “Well, now he has paid, so it’s over. Thank you for telling me. I was afraid…”

      “You were afraid of what, Danielle?”

      Her chin went up. “I was afraid you had come to destroy my plans for the future. My chance of finding happiness with Richard.”

      “You believed I would go that far, that I hated you that much?”

      “Didn’t you?”

      “I never spoke a word to anyone about that night. Not once in all of these years.”

      “But you never denied the rumors. You cried off two days after it happened. By breaking our betrothal that way, you made it clear that I was guilty.”

      Something moved across his features. She thought it might be regret. “There is no denying my role in what happened. If I could change things…if I could do it over, I would.”

      “But we can’t do that, can we, Rafael?”

      “No. We can’t undo the past.”

      Danielle rose from the sofa. “Goodbye, Rafael.” She started walking toward the door, her heart still beating fiercely, fighting an urge to weep.

      “Do you love him?” Rafe called suddenly.

      Danielle just kept walking, out through the parlor doors into the entry. Lifting her skirt up out of the way, she concentrated on climbing the stairs, one by one, up to her room.

      Seven

      Rafe sat on the horsehair sofa in the parlor of his suite at the William Penn Hotel. Thinking of his meeting with Danielle, he propped his elbows on his knees and rested his head in his hands.

      “That bad, was it?” Emerging from the bedroom, Max Bradley strolled up beside him as silent as a wraith. He always seemed to appear without warning. Rafe still wasn’t used to it.

      “Worse,” he said, leaning back against the sofa, stretching his long legs out in front of him. “I’ll never forget the look on her face when I told her I had finally discovered her innocence in the affair. My God, if she hated me before, she loathes me completely now.”

      “Are you certain? Or do you just hate yourself?”