Tender Fury Read Online Free PDF Page B

dismissed Marcel. “I have some private business to conduct with Henri, so…”
    “Of course, of course. I do not wish to intrude, so I will bid you both good night. By the way,” he added archly, “I understand congratulations are in order, that you have been successful in your quest.”
    “What!” exploded Philippe and Henri together.
    “Why, what is wrong, gentlemen?” asked Marcel innocently. “I refer to your bride, of course. If I am to believe Captain Giscard, Madame St. Cyr is a raving beauty.” After dropping that bombshell, he quickly left the cabin, humming a little tune as he strutted down the passageway.
    “For a moment I feared he knew the real reason behind our journey to France,” breathed Henri with obvious relief. “You don’t think he could have found out, do you, Philippe?”
    “No, Henri,” Philippe replied with more conviction than he felt at that moment. “It’s probably just a coincidence that the Windward was preparing for departure at the same time Duvall wished to return to Martinique.” Then he looked sharply at the older man. “You mentioned nothing of our destination?”
    “No! No!” Henri quickly assured him. “I thought you could tell him when the time is right.”
    Momentarily dismissing from his mind the man he had every reason to hate, Philippe turned to more pressing matters. He removed his jacket, and using a letter opener he found on the desk, carefully ripped open the seam, extracting a slim packet wrapped in oilskin. Only the hiss of air escaping from Henri Giscard’s lungs invaded the silence in the room.
    “You encountered no trouble, then?” Henri asked, casting a furtive glance around the small cabin.
    “None at all. The document was delivered to me by a messenger at my hotel in the guise of an innocuous-looking missive from a nonexistent aunt. As far as I know. you and I are the only ones aware of its importance, besides the agent working for the American government.”
    “And if others were to find out?”
    “They would not hesitate to do whatever is necessary to prevent it from reaching its destination.”
    “Mon dieu,” cursed Henri, breaking out into a sweat born of fear.
    “I have memorized the contents and I want you to do the same. In case something should happen to these papers, one of us will be able to deliver the message orally.” Philippe’s voice grew ominous. “And if something unforeseen should befall one of us, the other is duty bound to see the mission to its conclusion. I suggest you memorize the contents immediately, then put the packet in the safe.”
    What Henri didn’t know was that Philippe intended to retrieve the document from the safe before morning and return it to his own cabin. If there should happen to be a spy aboard the Windward, the first place he would look would be the safe. And Philippe fully intended for the document to reach the Americans safely.
    As Philippe walked back to his cabin, his mind kept returning to Marcel Duvall and his unwelcome appearance at Brest just hours before he and Gabby entered the city themselves. It seemed too well timed to be a coincidence.
    Gabby was sleeping soundly, wrapped in the brown cocoon of her travelel-worn dress when Philippe let himself quietly into the cabin. An untouched tray of food lay on the table. He lit a lamp and studied the tear stained face of his young bride. She was like a child, a beautiful, innocent child, yet nevertheless a very desirable woman. Somewhere deep in his heart he felt a tug but failed to recognize it for what it was. He only knew that he desired her as a man desires a woman. He had no thoughts of Cecily, or even of Amalie as his eyes swept over her sleeping form. He shook his head as it to clear his mind of arousing thoughts, staring a few moments more at her peaceful face before dousing the lamp and creeping softly from the room to spend the remainder of the night under the stars while his wife slept in her virginal bed a state of affairs he