Judy shuddered. “How did you escape? You were stranded in Siberia. . . .”

“I drove south, then west. They had some provisions, a little money. I took it all. It was a dangerous journey.” He smiled. “But I made it. Once I reached the West, I hitchhiked.”

“But a single phone call—a private jet would have been sent . . .”

“Don’t you see?” The smile was more sincere this time. “I didn’t want anybody to know I was alive. Not until my plans were set. When I returned, I would no longer be the victim. I would be in control.”

He poured a good glass of claret; the bright flames hissing and crackling in the grate lit it up, a rich, glossy ruby. Pierre offered Judy a toast.

“And now, my dear, we have dealt with the past,” he said. “Now, we move on to the future.”

Judy chinked her glass to his and allowed herself to feel some relief.

“To the future,” she said.

Chapter 52

Chapter 52

The plane banked and steered above Paris; the wing dipped, and from her first-class seat Sophie could make out the Louvre, its glass pyramid glinting in the thin winter sun. She smiled; Paris was beautiful.

Of course, her current state of happiness made everything appear beautiful. Perhaps that was it.

Hugh, next to her, squeezed her arm.

“This is wonderful,” he said. “I hope Tom’s got his facts right.”

“I believe he has,” Sophie replied, proudly.

“Then I can’t begrudge him being the one to do it. Of course, I wanted Stockton for myself. But he has wronged your family more than he’s wronged me.”

“Tom is a man.” She could not keep the satisfaction out of her voice. “He’s changed; he’s not a boy anymore. It’s right that he should be the one to take back what was robbed from him. You could have helped, but he wanted to stand on his own two feet.”

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of it.” Hugh was appreciative. “In its way, it’s rather brilliant; blind him with his own greed. Instead of thinking up some complex solution, Tom has cut the Gordian knot.”

Sophie kissed her husband lingeringly on the lips; her body still echoed from their passion of earlier that morning. It was interesting, what great sex could do; it relaxed her, unwound her tensions and anxieties; her body was as supple as if she’d spent hours on a masseuse’s table.

“The important thing for me is that he wants us to be there. When he has finished—succeeded—he wants us there to share that moment of triumph.”

“And then will you go back to House Massot?”

Sophie was surprised. “Of course not. I’m a Montfort now. And don’t forget, darling, that the company’s half mine.”

He chuckled. “That would be hard, since you remind me eight times a day.”