Iris Johansen - Dark Rider

Dark Rider

Iris Johansen

DARK RIDER

A Bantam Book / May 1995

All rights reserved.

Copyright 1995 by Iris Johansen.

Nopart of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means,electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by anyinformation storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing fromthe publisher. For information address: Bantam Books.

ISBN 0-553-29947-6

Published simultaneously in the United States andCanada

BantamBooks are published by Bantam Books, a division of Bantam Doubleday DellPublishing Group, Inc. Its trademark, consisting of the words "BantamBooks" and the portrayal of a rooster, is Registered in U.S. Patent andTrademark Office and in other countries. Marca Registrada. Bantam Books, 1540Broadway, New York, New York 10036.

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

Prologue

September 15, 1795 Marseilles, France

"You demon from Hades, come back here!" Cassie jumped over asmall cask and darted around a sailor.

"You know what will happen if I have to come after you!"

Oh yes, she knew. She would be forced to listen to one of her nurse'slong lectures and then be locked in the ship cabin for hours and hours. But shehad seen the crew load horses, two beautiful horses, and she would not losethis opportunity because of Clara's threats. Some things were worth anypunishment her nurse could inflict.

She glanced over her shoulder. Clara was stalking after her, her facetwisted with anger.

Darting around a corner, Cassie dived behind a pile of trunks. She heldher breath as she heard the swish of Clara's stiff skirts.

She waited two minutes more before peeking around the trunk. Clara wasnot in sight. Her breath released in an explosion of relief. She startedrunning back the way she had come.

"And what have we here?" Papa was standing at the rail withanother man. "Come here, wild one."

She skidded to a stop in front of him and sighed resignedly. It couldhave been worse. She could not count on her father to stop Clara from punishingher, but he might lessen the sentence. Papa was not like other grown-ups; hedidn't shout or frown or shake his head. There was even a chance she mightpersuade him to go with her to see the horses.

"What a sweet child." The man to whom her father had beentalking was looking down at her. "How old is she?"

Her father smiled proudly. "Cassandra is eight. Cassie, this is myfriend, Raoul."

Raoul knelt before her. "I'm delighted to meet you, Cassandra."

He was smiling, but his gray eyes were as cold and unblinking as thegarden snake she had put in Clara's bed last week.

"You're a lucky man, Charles. She's as lovely as your beautifulwife."

Why was he lying? Clara had told Cassandra over and over that she was asugly as a toad. She had said that beauty was founded in obedience and a badgirl like Cassandra would never be anything but homely. She had come to realizethat Clara didn't always tell the truth, but here was a chance Clara wasright about Cassie's lack of beauty. Mama was always gentle, always obedient toClara, and no one could deny she was pretty. Cassandra set her jaw and saidclearly, "That's not true."

The brilliant white smile on Raoul's lips never faltered. "Modest aswell as comely." He patted her cheek and rose to his feet. "We mustbe sure to find a suitable match for her when you return."

"Match?" Her father looked dismayed. "You think I'll haveto be gone that long?"

"We both know that's a possibility. Naturally, I'll let you know themoment it's safe for you to return." He clapped her father on theshoulder. "Don't look so morose, my friend. Tahiti is supposed to be abeautiful land. I was just talking to Jacques-Louis David about it last week,and he was saying what a thrill it would be to paint in such a place. You maybe inspired to create a great masterpiece."

"Yes" He lifted Cassie in his arms and gazed blindly down atthe dock. "But it's so far away."

"Distance is safety," Raoul said softly. "You're the onewho came to me in a panic. You even moved from Paris to Marseilles to escape him.Have you changed your mind now? There's a possibility you may be safe here fora time. Do you wish to stay and chance letting him find you?"

"No!" Her father's face paled. "But it's not fair. Ididn't mean to"

"It's done." Raoul cut into his sentence. "Now we mustprotect ourselves from the consequences. Why do you think I intend to change myname and cut ail my former ties? Now, do you need more funds for thejourney?"

"No, you've been more than generous." He tried to smile."But you'll remember to let me know as quickly as possible? My wife has adelicate constitution and is not pleased to be going to such a savageland."

"She will thrive in Tahiti. The climate is much more pleasant thanthat of either London or Marseilles." Raoul smiled again. "Now I mustgo. Good journey, Charles."

"Good-bye," he said faintly.

"And good journey to you, little mademoiselle." Raoul turnedhis smile on Cassie. "Take care of your father."

Exactly like the garden snake. Her arms tightened fiercely around Papa'sneck. "I will."

They watched him move down the gangplank and walk across the dock.

Papa tugged at her hands. "A little air, ma chou." Hechuckled. "You cannot protect me if you choke me to death."

Her gaze never left Raoul's retreating back. "I don't likehim."

"Raoul? You don't understand. He's my good friend and wants onlywhat's best. You heard him say he wanted you to take care of me."

She was not convinced, but grown-ups never paid attention when she arguedwith them. She laid her head on his shoulder and whispered, "I'll alwaystake care of you, Papa."

"My big girl. I know you will." He bit his lower lip as hisgaze went back to Raoul, and he added absently, "But it's not Raoul who isthe danger, it's the Duke."

Cassie knew about dukes. Clara had told her with great enthusiasm of allthe aristocrats who had lost their heads on the guillotine. Clara was English,like Mama, and had no use for French aristocracy. But, then, Clara had littleuse for anyone. "Like the dukes who died in the Place de la Concorde?"

"No, he's a British duke." He suddenly turned away from therail and set her down. "Now I must return you to Clara and your mother.The ship is about to depart."

"I want to stay with you."

"Do you? I'd like to stay with you, too, but Clara will be mostupset with both of us." His eyes suddenly lit with boyish mischief."Where will we hide?"

She was already prepared. "Down with the cargo." The cargohatch had been her destination when Papa had caught sight of her. "We canstay with the horses."

He laughed. "I should have known you'd find horses even on aship."

"Beautiful horses. Clara won't look there; you know she hates them.I'll get your easel from the trunk, and you can paint them."

"Excellent idea." He took her hand and set off down the deck."You see, you're already meeting all my needs."

As she always would, she resolved, her hand tightening on her father's.Mama had told her once that Papa was not like other men. He was an artist whoneeded all their love and care so that he would be free to paint beautifulpictures and give his gift to the world. He must not be bothered with theconcerns that plagued lesser men. That rule surely meant he must never be asfrightened as he had been a few moments ago. She knew how terrible fear madeyou feel. When she was smaller, she had let Clara frighten her.

Yes, she would protect him from Clara and the snake he had called Raoul,and this British duke. She would protect him from everyone who might ever hurthim.

One

April 4, 1806 Kealakekua Bay, Hawaii

"Come with us, Kanoa," Lihua called out as she waded into thesurf. "Why stay here on the shore when you could be where there is finefood and finer gifts? The English are beautiful and make love like Gods."