Read Online Promise Me Tomorrow by Candace Camp - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Candace Camp
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mouth twisted bitterly. “Not all of us are blessed with your lack of conscience.”
Richard raised one eyebrow. “It wasn’t your boringly pedestrian morality I questioned. Frankly, I’m surprised you remember anything from that time.”
The other man pressed his lips together. “It was a sobering experience.”
“That was what caused you to give up your old life?” Richard’s voice was tinged with amusement.
“Yes. When I found myself standing in my room holding a pistol to my head.”
“How very dramatic.”
“I am sure the scene would have afforded you a great deal of amusement. But I realized then that I had to die or I had to change. I could not go on as I was. I chose to give up my vices. God knows, there were moments in the weeks that followed when I wished that I had pulled the trigger.”
“I, for one, am glad that you did not. I have a task for you.”
“A task?” He looked astonished. “You think that I am going to do something for you? I paid my debt to you when I took those children for you. I wouldn’t lift a finger for you again.”
“Ah, but what about for yourself?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I am not the only one who would suffer if certain details from the past came to light.”
“How could it? The older one, the boy, didn’t even live, did he? He was at death’s door when I left him.”
“The boy is dead,” Richard replied curtly. “That is not the problem. It is the girl.”
“She can’t have been more than five or six. She couldn’t remember.”
“Perhaps not. But if she saw a face—the face of the man who had ripped her from her brother, say, who had taken her to an orphanage and placed her in that hellhole—who is to say that she might not remember then?”
“Surely—you’re not telling me that they have found her.”
Richard shrugged. “I doubt it. Not yet. But I sent a man to St. Anselm’s, too, when I heard that the Countess was looking for the chit. They told me where she went when she left there.”
“Where was that?” The words seemed pulled from him, as if he did not really want to know, yet could not stop himself from asking.
“She went into service with one of the local gentry. Family named Quartermaine.”
“Good God!” He paled a trifle. “The daughter of generations of earls, a maid.”
“Mmm. Ironic, isn’t it?”
“Tragic, I would say.”
“She was cast out of the Quartermaine house—pregnant.”
The other man closed his eyes. “God forgive me.”
“God may, but I doubt the polite world would.”
“I did not want to!” he lashed out, goaded. “You know I tried to argue you out of it. Sweet Jesus, when I handed the little thing over to that dragon of a matron, and she was kicking and screaming and crying….” His hands clenched into fists at his sides.
“Yet you did it.”
“You made me! It was the only way I could wipe clean my debt to you. You kept giving me the money, urging me to take it, and I couldn’t stop myself. I had to have that sweet oblivion.”
“I hardly forced it on you. You begged me for the money, shaking and sweating, the color of a corpse. What else could a friend have done? As I remember, at the time you praised me for my generosity.”
“I did not know then why you did it! How you got people in your debt and made them do wicked things! How you twisted and crushed them into monsters scarcely recognizable as themselves.”
“Really. Dear fellow…do you think you would have done it if you hadn’t had it in you already? You could have refused, you know.”
“I know.” Self-disgust filled his voice. “I was weak.”
Richard did not comment. He could have pointed out that the man was still weak or he would not have come in answer to his summons. But there wasn’t any point in antagonizing him unduly. It might put his back up enough to give him some spine.
“Do you think that will help you any? If people know that you took Chilton’s daughter from her family and
Richard raised one eyebrow. “It wasn’t your boringly pedestrian morality I questioned. Frankly, I’m surprised you remember anything from that time.”
The other man pressed his lips together. “It was a sobering experience.”
“That was what caused you to give up your old life?” Richard’s voice was tinged with amusement.
“Yes. When I found myself standing in my room holding a pistol to my head.”
“How very dramatic.”
“I am sure the scene would have afforded you a great deal of amusement. But I realized then that I had to die or I had to change. I could not go on as I was. I chose to give up my vices. God knows, there were moments in the weeks that followed when I wished that I had pulled the trigger.”
“I, for one, am glad that you did not. I have a task for you.”
“A task?” He looked astonished. “You think that I am going to do something for you? I paid my debt to you when I took those children for you. I wouldn’t lift a finger for you again.”
“Ah, but what about for yourself?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I am not the only one who would suffer if certain details from the past came to light.”
“How could it? The older one, the boy, didn’t even live, did he? He was at death’s door when I left him.”
“The boy is dead,” Richard replied curtly. “That is not the problem. It is the girl.”
“She can’t have been more than five or six. She couldn’t remember.”
“Perhaps not. But if she saw a face—the face of the man who had ripped her from her brother, say, who had taken her to an orphanage and placed her in that hellhole—who is to say that she might not remember then?”
“Surely—you’re not telling me that they have found her.”
Richard shrugged. “I doubt it. Not yet. But I sent a man to St. Anselm’s, too, when I heard that the Countess was looking for the chit. They told me where she went when she left there.”
“Where was that?” The words seemed pulled from him, as if he did not really want to know, yet could not stop himself from asking.
“She went into service with one of the local gentry. Family named Quartermaine.”
“Good God!” He paled a trifle. “The daughter of generations of earls, a maid.”
“Mmm. Ironic, isn’t it?”
“Tragic, I would say.”
“She was cast out of the Quartermaine house—pregnant.”
The other man closed his eyes. “God forgive me.”
“God may, but I doubt the polite world would.”
“I did not want to!” he lashed out, goaded. “You know I tried to argue you out of it. Sweet Jesus, when I handed the little thing over to that dragon of a matron, and she was kicking and screaming and crying….” His hands clenched into fists at his sides.
“Yet you did it.”
“You made me! It was the only way I could wipe clean my debt to you. You kept giving me the money, urging me to take it, and I couldn’t stop myself. I had to have that sweet oblivion.”
“I hardly forced it on you. You begged me for the money, shaking and sweating, the color of a corpse. What else could a friend have done? As I remember, at the time you praised me for my generosity.”
“I did not know then why you did it! How you got people in your debt and made them do wicked things! How you twisted and crushed them into monsters scarcely recognizable as themselves.”
“Really. Dear fellow…do you think you would have done it if you hadn’t had it in you already? You could have refused, you know.”
“I know.” Self-disgust filled his voice. “I was weak.”
Richard did not comment. He could have pointed out that the man was still weak or he would not have come in answer to his summons. But there wasn’t any point in antagonizing him unduly. It might put his back up enough to give him some spine.
“Do you think that will help you any? If people know that you took Chilton’s daughter from her family and
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