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to Kanoa. “But you shouldn’t have been so selfish. Why didn’t you invite her to the ship so that we both could enjoy her?”
    The flare of hot resentment Jared felt was as startling as it was totally unreasonable. He and Bradford often shared women, and these island beauties had proved eager for the diversion the two men offered them. “For God’s sake, why don’t you listen? The only thing that child wants between her legs is her damned horse.” He turned on his heel and strode down the beach toward the cove. “Forget her. We have more important things to do.”
    “Not so fast,” Bradford complained. “I may not be drunk, but I’m not so steady that I can run.”
    Smiling affectionately, Jared slowed his pace. “I was thinking only of your dire need for brandy. The sooner we get back to the ship, the sooner you can tap a fresh bottle.”
    “Well, perhaps I can run … a little.” He fell into step with Jared. “Did Kamehameha tell you what you wanted to know?”
    “Yes.” He felt a return of the excitement that had surged through him when the King had so casually given him the information he had been striving tolearn since that hellish night in Danjuet. He had traveled to Paris and Marseilles, then had spent almost a year in Tahiti following Deville’s trail before arriving on the islands. It had seemed almost unbelievable that the long search had ended. “He’s here.”
    “Deville?” Bradford pursed his lips in a low whistle. “Are you sure?”
    “Charles Deville, a Frenchman who lived in Tahiti for a short time and then came here. It must be he. Everything matches too closely with what we’ve uncovered for it to be anyone else.”
    “Did he fit the description?”
    “Exactly.”
    “The wife and daughter?”
    Jared nodded. “His English wife died a year after he came here, and he took a Polynesian woman as mistress. There’s a daughter, Cassandra, but she never comes to Kamehameha’s court.”
    “Does DeVille?”
    Jared nodded. “It seems Kamehameha has made something of a pet of him. Deville’s done several paintings of the King and his wives. He’s permitted to roam all over the island, painting and living off the land.”
    “Will the king let you take him?”
    “He’ll have no choice.” He smiled with tigerlike ferocity. “If I find him, he’s mine.”
    “I’ve no doubt he will be. I only hope that Kamehameha isn’t too fond of him. I’d hate to have his warriors use one of those exceedingly ugly war clubs on you.”
    “I don’t look forward to that prospect either. I’ll have to take him unaware.” He thought about it. “The king made a few hints about his desire for British guns. He might be persuaded to turn a blind eyeto my taking Deville if he thinks there’s a possibility he’ll get what he wants.”
    “Still, it would be easier to kill Deville than try to take him hostage.”
    “But then I’d have no chance at getting Raoul Cambre. I want both of them dead.”
    Bradford shook his head. “I hope you get what you want, Jared. It’s been a long time and the trail is very cold.”
    “That’s why I have to leave Deville alive until I can squeeze information out of him. Deville was only the weapon—Cambre was the guiding hand.”
    “Does Deville have a house here on the island?”
    “Yes, a cottage in the foothills, but I understand he’s seldom there. It appears he has a passion for painting volcanoes. I think it’s best to go to Lihua’s village tomorrow morning and hire a guide who knows the mountains. We’ll try the cottage first, but I want to be prepared.”
    “I suppose I should be the one avenging John’s death. He was my brother, and everyone would say there is some sort of duty owing.” Bradford smiled lopsidedly. “I’ve always had trouble with duty. It has a damnable habit of getting in the way of pleasure.”
    “I’ve never blamed you.”
    “No.” Bradford paused. “I’ve always had trouble with hatred too. I’ve never hated