"A man canna change his nature," Ethan said.

"No, no' often," Hugh replied. "But I believe when men like us do, the change is profound."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Take Court. He was almost as selfish as you are, but now he's different."

Ethan didn't bother denying he was selfish, but he said, "Aye, take Court. Another example of a ridiculous match. Annalía's an heiress—Court does no' have two guineas to his name. And he's a bloody mercenary while she could no' be more genteel. How's he to support her? Leave her at home with a new bairn while he marches off to wage war for money?"

"He's retired."

Ethan gave a humorless laugh. "They'll starve. And they'll do it at his run-down manor in the middle of the Highlands—unless he lives off her." He scowled deeply. "The hell that will be happening. I'll settle money on him before he becomes the first MacCarrick to live off his wife."

"No, when he was on his last campaign, I reinvested for him what he had managed to save," Hugh said. "Court actually has a steady income now. And when Jane and I were hiding out at his property—waiting foryou to kill Grey—we needed something to do, so we renovated the manor house. Put it this way—I saw work as the only thing I could do to keep my hands from Jane. Trust me, Court's home is a bloody showplace now. And Annalía loves it there."

"And how long will that last? How long can it? You two baffle me. I thought my brothers had more sense than this."

"If what I enjoy now is due to senselessness, then I doona want sense." Hugh sank back, appearing to have given up on convincing Ethan. "You will no' understand, you canna, until you feel it, too. It's like trying to impress upon a virgin what sex is like."

And with one word, Ethan's mind was back on Madeleine. He'd been doing so well. At least ten minutes had passed since the last time.

Wait…Ethan narrowed his eyes. "I hate it when people make asinine arguments like that. That's like our mother telling us that we could no' comprehend—or forgive—her behavior toward us after Da died, until we'd been in love." When she'd said that, Ethan had replied,"Bullshite. I doona have to jump off a bloody bridge to understand the landing will prove disagreeable."

Ethan could never forgive her for her actions. There was no excuse for the woman to have blamed her sons for Leith's death, no excuse for reacting so irrationally. She'd screamed, tearing at her hair, uttering things that could never be taken back….

Hugh said, "No, Ethan, she was right."

"Of course you agree—now that you've been inducted into the cult of marriage. I canna decide if I'm amused or disgusted by all this."

Hugh stared out the window, and his tone turned grave. "If I…if I lost Jane, I could no' predict my actions, but I know I would no' be verra concerned with watching what I said."

"I've decided. Disgusted."

"Have you never thought about marrying?"

"No, never. I thought we were no'supposed to, and to say my personality isn't favorable to it is an understatement." Ethan sounded so sure, but now, for the first time in his life, doubts on the subject had begun to creep into his thoughts. Both of his brothers were wed and sounded happy, and apparently, the curse wasn't as they'd believed.

Ethan had heard that a man's life flashed before him just before he died. Ethan had been on the verge, and nothing had flashed before him—but then, he'd had few meaningful moments in his adulthood. He'd never had friendships like Court had with his band of mercenaries. Ethan had never felt the selfless love for one woman that his brother Hugh had for years.

That night in the alley, Ethan had believed he was going to die—and he'd realized how pointless his life had been. And for some reason, at such a critical time, he'd thought of that lass….

After a quarter of an hour of silence passed between them, Hugh said, "What are you going to do when we arrive in the city?"

"Ready for a trip to Paris." Unfortunately, he'd need to spend a few days in London before setting off. He'd eat and regain his strength, healing more as he arranged the logistics of his plan.

"What's in Paris?"

"Madeleine Van Rowen."

"Stillthinking about her?" Hugh raised his brows. "This is interesting."

Ethan shrugged. "Doona read anything into it."

"This is no' still about revenge, is it?"

"And if it is…?" He wanted to finally finish his retribution, to make Sylvie suffer as she was supposed to have. The fact that he would get to enjoy Madeleine in the process was insignificant to his main goal.

Yet even as he assured himself of that, another part of his mind whispered,You're seizing on this revenge as an excuse to go after her.

"Because she canna be made to pay for what her parents did." In a low tone, Hugh added, "What if she's the one?"

Ethan jerked, startled. "What? You must be jesting."

"Have you ever thought about another woman as much as you do her?"

Ethan had never, since he'd been old enough to notice females, had one fascinate or frustrate him so badly. "IfI was convinced of your beliefs on the subject of the curse—which I'm no' saying I am—the fact would no' matter. There could be no union more doomed. It's ridiculous even to contemplate."

"Would you really go despoil an innocent girl to exact more of your revenge?" Hugh looked as if he was praying for Ethan to say the right thing—for Ethannot to be the bastard he feared him.

But he was. "No." Ethan paused, letting Hugh relax before adding, "Ialready despoiled her. I took her virtue that night of the masquerade."

"You would no'." Hugh appeared aghast. "You have to marry her."

"The hell I will."

"She's my wife's friend. I will step in, Ethan."

Ethan gave him a menacing sneer. "You think to stop me from enjoying her?Nothing will stop me, least of all you."

Hugh studied his face, then he raised his brows. "I see. Well, the picture's becoming clearer."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Look at the facts: Madeleine's the first woman you've been with in God knows how long, and you canna stop thinking about her. After all the years you've wanted to kill Grey, now you never will be able to, and something like that would normally consume you. The fact that Grey bested you should rankle as nothing else, much less the fact thatJane shot him when you could no'. In the past, you would have made an attempt to thrash that MacReedy whelp even if you had to crawl to do it, but you canna be bothered about anything because all you want to do is get back toher ."

Refusing to be baited, Ethan said, "I want to enjoy her for a few weeks. Nothing more."

"I wish you all the luck in the world with that, brother," Hugh said, then Ethan thought he heard him mutter, "Welcome to the cult."

This was where Madeleine Van Rowen lived?

Ethan gazed up at the six-story building before him. The dilapidated structure had obviously once been a mansion but now looked as if it would collapse if he put a shoulder to it and leaned. Most surprising, it was in the middle of La Marais, one of the worst slums in Paris.

Madeleine was believed to live on the top floor—usually taken by only the poorest, since continually carrying water and food up the stairs was grueling.

He climbed the front steps to the stoop, then wound around drunken men fixed there in varying stages of unconsciousness. But the door was locked. He'd have to wait her out, or wait for another tenant to open the door. Descending the steps once more, he dropped back to the closest corner. He leaned against a wall and drew his knee up, surveying the world she inhabited.

Men strutted by with machetes or guns visibly secured in their belts. Prostitutes actively solicited—then took their work into every alley. Children ran naked and grubby in the streets.