Forbidden by Susan Johnson (good books to read for teens .TXT) 📕

didn't want to be away from her so long again. Although he was planning on bypassing the law courts on this venture. He'd already sent a telegram to both his partners before coming to see Daisy.

Gentlemen: You've undertaken to cheat me. I won't sue you, for the law is too slow. I'll ruin you. Yours truly, de Vec

Included in that threat, now, was Isabelle. From the beginning, Bourges had wanted to conduct a no-holds-barred kind of fight, but Etienne had been reluctant. As a gentleman he'd resisted the street-mentality combat Bourges recommended. No longer. As soon as he reached Paris he intended to have detectives hired to observe Isabelle.

"You can't come with me, though, can you?" he said, Daisy's expression as melancholy as his. "I understand," he added, trying earnestly to live up to his words.

"I'm sorry," Daisy softly said. "I've been working on this case for almost six months. It's not new, these litigations over the ore veins, but there's a great deal of money involved. Like your railroads." She took his hand in hers and placed it around her waist, moving into the circle of his arms. "Come back as soon as you can." Her smile was a half smile, both rueful and wistful. "See how understanding I can be?"

The Duc held her very tight, thinking how much misery Isabelle had caused him over the years. "I'm having trouble being understanding about damn near everything at the moment. But I love you. That at least is absolutely clear. Give me a kiss now and I'm off. My crew fired up the engines an hour ago."

Their kiss was hasty and insufficient, touched with the gloom of their coming battles. At the door, the Duc turned back for a last look at the woman he loved, then changing his mind, strode swiftly back to Daisy, and lifting her in his arms, held her close for a moment more. Placing her back on her feet, he touched her lips gently. "I'm not looking back this time," he murmured, his breath warm on her lips, a faint wry smile curling his mouth. "Because I'm facing ruin in Paris and wondering if I even care." He grinned. "Is love this kind of insanity for everyone?" He'd never understood before—never. His form of love was only passion and amour, silky smooth pleasure, an intensity that flared and burned away. The kind one remembered fondly but not often.

"You're asking the wrong person," Daisy softly said. "You've changed every thought and vision and precept I've ever known. You've destroyed my serenity and reason."

"I love you too," the Duc said, his smile lush.

"We're moon-mad."

"And miserable." He was smiling, though, when he said it.

With tears brimming over, Daisy held his face in the palms of her hands. "Don't forget me," she whispered, her heart in her eyes. She was afraid, suddenly, despite his teasing, afraid that he'd leave and Isabelle would claim him somehow. Not for herself. She knew better. But claim his soul, somehow, in this black and wretched scheme of hers and make it impossible for… their love to survive.

In his six-day journey across the Atlantic, the Duc had considerable time to determine his course of action, and immediately upon stepping ashore at Le Havre, he contacted Bourges. From subsequent telegrams received aboard his yacht, he understood Isabelle had contracted as a public trader (marchande publique) for the purposes of trade. It allowed her to enter into contracts concerning their community property without his consent.

His fortune was in enormous danger.

Bourges was waiting for him at his apartment in Paris when he arrived three hours later, several files spread out on the desk in Etienne's study.

"Thank you for coming," the Duc said, striding across the paneled room. "This attack was unexpected… even from Isabelle."

"Your crossing was—"

"—swift." He took Bourges's outstretched hand, his smile pleasant. "Now then, tell me about your detectives."

For the next half hour the men went over the extent of the damage possible if Isabelle exercised her option with their estate as a public trader, the directives necessary for those men being put on Isabelle's trail, which markers the Duc should call in from those of his friends placed on the various boards of directors where he had investments she might attempt to sell.

"I'll be closing out my bank accounts in the next few days and transferring the money either to London or Amsterdam for safekeeping," Etienne said when they'd decided on their immediate plan of action with Isabelle. "I'll transfer those of my stocks other than the railroad capital to a trust independent from our community property. My estates are separate from our common property in our marriage settlement, as are hers, so they're protected. Are you willing to involve yourself with the rest of my legal staff on this and the railroad takeover too? Everything has to be taken care of quickly. I don't know how much she has plans to sell… other than the railroad stock."

"Would Charles have been the one to advise her to contract as a public trader?"

"I don't know. Does it matter?"

"It could. If this ends up in court in a lawsuit. The magistrates have wide discretionary powers."

"By tomorrow I want everything I own transferred out of the country or out of Isabelle's reach. Discreetly. Then we can concentrate on the fight for my railroads. I don't intend to go to court. I haven't the time."

"And the divorce?"

"Find something on her… then we'll turn the screws. I should have taken your advice about the detectives a long time ago."

"It's rare to find a completely virtuous woman," Bourges calmly said.

"Well, Isabelle sure as hell wasn't sleeping with me. Although coming from her pious family, and convent-bred background, together with her propensity to socialize with priests, it's probable her vices are confined to other mortal sins."

"Perhaps." Having seen so much of aristocrats' private lives, Bourges was more cynical than most. Priests, he thought. Interesting. "How old are these priests?" he asked, a casual remark uttered without expression.

"I