Tender Fury Read Online Free PDF

somewhat as he made his way along the dark passageway to Captain Giscard’s cabin. In fact, he had almost forgotten Gabby as his hand moved to the slight bulge in his jacket, as if assuring himself for the thousandth time that he still carried the document for which he was risking his life.
    Philippe paused before Captain Giscard’s door and was shaken to his foundation by voices coming from within. “Mon dieu!” he cursed aloud when he recognized the voice speaking to the captain. “It cannot be!” He burst into the cabin with a look of such pure rage on his face that both men inside the room felt they were facing a maddened bull.
    “What is it, Philippe?” Captain Giscard cried in alarm when he saw Philippe’s face.
    “How in the hell did Duvall get aboard the Windward? ” he demanded, pointing a finger at the tall, slim man regarding him through startling green eyes. “By whose authority is he on my ship? I gave strict orders that no passengers would be allowed on board this trip. You know the reason as well as I, Henri.”
    “I’m… I’m sorry, Philippe, truly I am,” apologized Henri, astounded by the animosity displayed by Philippe toward a man who was considered by all to be his good friend. “When Monsieur Duvall came aboard late last night he assured me you would not object to his presence. It is well known that you and Duvall are neighbors as well as friends.”
    “At one time perhaps,” muttered Philippe darkly. Then he turned to the elegantly dressed man toward whom his anger was directed. “What have you to say for yourself, Marcel? Why have you come aboard the Windward under false pretenses? You know as well as I that our friendship ended with Cecily’s death.”
    “Mon ami,” Marcel Duvall began smoothly, all the while toying with the thin mustache gracing his upper lip, “you were the one who denounced our friendship. And at he time you were still grieving over the untimely death of your wife. I am prepared to overlook your rash actions and continue our relations as if nothing had happened.”
    “The devil take you, Duvall!” spat Philippe. “I meant every word I said. Cecily might still be alive today if it weren’t for you. I want nothing more to do with you! You may have convinced Henri that we are friends but I know what lies between us and I warn you, keep out of the way.” Suddenly his flinty eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Just what are you doing in France, anyway? When did you leave Martinique?”
    Captain Giscard looked from one to the other, completely baffled by the turn of their conversation. He had no idea Marcel Duvall was in any way involved with the death of Cecily St. Cyr. If there was any connection at all, then he had done Philippe a grave injustice by allowing the man aboard the Windward.
    “I left Martinique aboard the Tristan while you were on one of your trips to America,” Marcel answered easily. “My business in France is simple; I hoped to arrange a suitable marriage for my sister, Linette.”
    “And have you?” demanded Philippe.
    “Certainly, mon ami, and quite admirably,” boasted Marcel. “Next year Linette will become the bride of Pierre Bonnard, the only son and heir of the founder of the great banking firm of the same name. Quite a match, I might add. A feather in my cap.”
    “Oui.” Philippe admitted grudgingly. “Ever one to further your own interests by uniting your family name to one of the great names in Europe, eh, Duvall? You must have offered a handsome dowry. Your fortune must be greater than I imagined. But tell me, how did you know the Windward was at Brest?”
    “I did not know. It was just my incredible good fortune to find the Windward in port when I arrived looking for passage to Martinique. It seems I have been blessed with much good luck this trip,” he said blandly.
    “So it would seem,” agreed Philippe without conviction.
    “Now that you are aboard there is nothing I can do about it.” With a wave of his hand he