Beloved Monster (2 page)

Glenna nodded. “Of course, what else is there to discuss? I have heard varied tales of his demise, but I knew you would have the truth of it.”

Susan glanced about. Glenna was not sure why as the door to the parlor remained closed; no one would hear. “As you are aware, Sam was called to London. How gratifying the earl takes such stock in Sam’s healing abilities, but there was naught to be done. I can tell you the viscount’s body was not quite smashed beyond recognition as the bookseller is saying.”

Glenna sipped her tea and smiled in amusement. “You must admit, it was a gruesome tale. Buckets indeed.”

Susan reached for a cake and took a delicate bite, then swallowed. “Here is what I know. His left hand had been all but severed when he became caught up in the rigging. The horses, the poor creatures, went off the embankment along with the viscount. The animals broke his fall to an extent, but not enough to save him. Besides his hand, he also had a twisted, fractured leg. Sam set it, but there was no hope. There was a gaping head wound with part of his scalp and facial skin hanging forward….” Susan blushed and smiled. “Oh, dear. I do revel in the gory details. Sam tells me everything and I soak it up like a sponge. You can tell me to be quiet at any point. I do not wish to put you off your tea and cakes.”

“Do go on, you know I love gruesome tales as much as you do. And I can keep a secret.” Glenna winked.

Susan leaned forward in expectation. “Well, it is said he attended an orgy at a Duke’s townhouse. Men and women alike, and we have heard of Ravenswood’s appetite for both sexes in the past. However, it seems he’d been issued a challenge at this debauched affair. The winner of the race would have the use of a pair of costly courtesans for one year, expenses paid by the loser. The courtesans were twins, a brother and sister.”

Glenna curled her lip in disgust as she bit into the jam cake. Racing for sex. How like the dissolute Ravenswood to participate in such scandalous doings. Sibling courtesans. How typical of the man.

“Apparently he was in the lead, but something went horribly wrong.” Susan’s eyes sparkled with interest as she relayed the account. “There is talk, but no absolute proof, that the carriage and horses were tampered with. Sam believes the head wound was too critical for any sort of recovery. In examining Ravenswood, he could see exposed brain matter as a piece of the skull was missing. Quite beyond hope. It was merciful he died, as he no doubt would have been a drooling simpleton had he survived.”

Glenna snorted. “Apt justice.”

Susan placed her tea cup on the tray. “Still bitter, Glenna?”

Yes, blast it. What woman had not been seduced by Ravenswood? His honeyed seductive words, glorious looks, and spectacular form clouded her senses from the first time she laid eyes on him. And when she did not succumb to his crude overtures, the vacuous viscount walked away and never looked back.
Cold, cruel man.
How easily she’d fallen for his charms, and how devastated she’d been when he spitefully turned from her.

“Perhaps. For a brief moment in time, I thought… It is no matter. In truth, I had a lucky escape. Others in our acquaintance did not.”

Susan shook her head. “No. They did not.”

The door to the parlor burst open and a small boy tumbled in, landing on his hands and knees. With nary a moment to react, he stood and ran to Susan before throwing himself in her arms. “Mama!”

A harried maid followed the energetic lad into the room. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Twington. He wriggled away from me.”

“It is quite all right. Jeffrey, can you say hello to Miss Glenna? Bow as I showed you.”

Jeffrey scrambled from Susan’s lap and turned to face her. She’d not seen the boy in a couple months, and when his eyes met hers, her breath caught in her throat.
Ravenswood.
The child definitely resembled him. From the perfectly sculpted cheekbones, sky-blue eyes, and tousled black hair, there was no mistaking Jeffrey was Ravenswood’s son.
His bastard.
At five years of age, the lad had no idea of his tragic parentage. Jeffrey smiled, with the innocence his sire lacked, and it nearly broke her heart. What a beautiful boy. She hoped he would not turn out to be like his father. Susan and Sam would make certain he did not. Of that, Glenna had no doubt.

He gave her a perfect bow the likes of which any gentleman would give a lady in a ballroom. “Good day, Miss Glenna.”

Already a charmer. When he grew up he would be a heartbreaker for certain. She couldn’t help but smile. “Good day to you, young sir.”

Susan laughed and pulled the child back into her embrace. “There now. Go with Molly and she will give you a jam cake. Later I will come and read you a story, all right, my dear?” She laid an affectionate kiss on the top of his head.

Jeffrey took Molly’s hand and headed toward the door. He turned and waved with the enthusiasm of a happy, contented child before Molly closed the door after them.

“My heavens, Susan, the likeness is uncanny. I see none of Hannah in the boy at all.”

Susan picked up her cup. “None. He is Ravenswood through and through. He will not escape the connection, I fear. Sam and I decided when he is old enough to understand we will tell him of his parentage. Hopefully before he hears the tattle.”

Glenna sipped her tea. “Any news on Hannah?”

Susan sighed. “She is still in the asylum in Scotland. I fear she will never be released. All this compounding tragedy has made me terribly sad.” She reached for a cake. “I was distraught when I found out I could never have children and leapt at the chance to adopt Hannah’s child. He is a precious, sweet boy. Such a sunny disposition.”

No doubt Ravenswood once was a happy, carefree lad, Glenna surmised, but she would not voice the disturbing thought aloud to Susan. “If any couple can give a child a loving home and stable upbringing, it is you and Sam.”

Susan finished her cake and passed her the plate. Glenna took one, then bit into it. “The earl comes to see him. Sometimes once a month,” Susan revealed.

Glenna was shocked, then concerned. “Whitestone? Is that wise?”

“It is his grandson, after all. He also offered to pay for Jeffrey’s schooling at Eton and Oxford. How can I refuse such an opportunity for him? He claims he will leave him a substantial inheritance.”

After adding the milk, Glenna poured a little more tea in both their cups. “I would ask for that in writing and have it officially seen to. However, he won’t give Jeffrey the family name though, will he?”

“Well, legally, I do not suppose he could. Whitestone Estate and the title are entailed to the next in line whom I believe is his nephew. He could not hand it over to his illegitimate grandson. But the earl did say he would do all he could to ensure Jeffrey’s future, and he wished to visit him now and then. How could I say no?”

“You are a kind-hearted soul. I do not blame you for doing all you can for Jeffrey. Just…be careful. I do not entirely trust the earl, I am not sure why, but I don’t. What kind of man would let his son run wild through the land, doing whatever he pleases?” Glenna licked the frosting from the tip of her finger.

“Oh, speaking of running wild. I hear there is another child of Ravenswood’s here in the village,” Susan stated.

Glenna shook her head in disbelief. The dissolute rake no doubt left issue all the way to London and back. “Anyone we are acquainted with?”

“I do not believe so. The farmer Fenton’s daughter gave birth to a girl two weeks ago and claims it is Ravenswood’s.”

Glenna frowned. “Did he rape her as well?”

Susan gave her an incredulous look. “No, my dear. No more than he raped Hannah. You said no to his advances and he respected your wishes. Though Hannah swore me to secrecy shortly before Jeffrey’s birth, I will reveal she lied to her father claiming she’d been raped, hoping he would not be as angry about her condition. Apparently the earl paid them good money to keep the entire matter secret. Hannah went to the viscount’s bed willingly because she loved him. He broke her heart.”

Poor Hannah.
Most of this drama happened before Glenna arrived in Charlwood three years ago, but she did make Hannah’s acquaintance through Susan, and how heart-wrenching to watch the young woman’s mental decline. After Hannah gave birth, her family did not want to keep the child. Susan and Sam stepped forward. A lump formed in Glenna’s throat. “And look where her love got her. There is a chance she will never recover.”

“No. I believe not. I will do all I can to protect Jeffrey from the vicious gossip, but I fear it will follow him all of his life.” Susan shook her head sadly.

Later, as she waved good-bye to Susan, Glenna found herself strolling toward the cemetery. Along the way she gathered a few wildflowers, and her mood turned melancholy. All this talk of death, tragedy, and wrecked lives. And all of it Ravenswood’s fault. Too bad he no longer could answer for his reckless actions, though it could be argued he paid the ultimate price. Death.

Ambling past the leaning, long-neglected tombstones, she found herself standing before the resting place of Ravenswood. Suddenly, she felt remorse and embarrassment at her overly dramatic graveside declaration of three days ago. Curse him for eternity? How petulant and childish. He broke her heart two years ago. Later, she discovered she had been one of many in a long line of besotted women. Enough time had passed since her romantic folly. She should be over the incident by now, and for all intents and purposes--she was. But Ravenswood had stimulated her heart to life, introduced her to passion only to spurn her for more enticing and salacious delights elsewhere.

Today, Glenna felt a little sorry for the waste of life. For the children he would never know. She laid the wildflowers on the mound of dirt. “Well, your lordship. Here’s hoping your offspring live a better life. And they should; now they are free from your example. Let us hope blood will not win out.” She hesitated. “Do rest in peace.”

A sudden breeze came up, swirling the fallen leaves at her feet. Branches from a nearby juniper scraped together in the wind, creating an eerie sound, as if the dead answered her with a mournful voice. She shivered. Glenna gazed at the mound of dirt more closely. It looked as if it had been…disturbed. The gravediggers did not do a thorough job; it was haphazard and messy. With a glum sigh, she pulled the hood of her cloak over her head and walked away.

“Miss, there you be.” Mrs. Grampton, the housekeeper/cook, clasped Glenna’s arm and helped her across the threshold. With a huff, she hurriedly removed Glenna’s cloak. “For three days I’ve laid trays at the professor’s door and ’e ’asn’t touched a bloomin’ thing. One day ’e might go without eatin’, but three? No one ’as seen ’ide nor ’air of ’im in close to a week.” Glenna stepped into the parlor, the harried housekeeper right on her heels. “I know the professor wants no one in ’is laboratory, but you must check on ’im, Miss Glenna, I’m that worried.” Mrs. Grampton thrust a ring of keys into her hand. “Your cousin is fond of you and won’t yell as loud if you’re the one to disturb ’im.”

Glenna sighed as she stared at the cozy fire in the hearth. “Very well. I will check on the professor. Which one unlocks the door?”

The housekeeper pointed to a rather old, ornate key. “Will you be needin’ Anna to go with you?”

The maid would not be much help in this circumstance. Besides, the girl was a little afraid of Reed or at least intimidated by him. “No, thank you. I will call if I need assistance. I am sure Professor Parker is caught up in his science and as a result lost complete track of time.” Glenna gave Mrs. Grampton a reassuring pat on the arm. A week was not too long. Once she hadn’t seen Reed for close to three. But the not eating the food was worrisome. As she headed toward the back stairs, the housekeeper thrust a lighted lantern into her hand.

A good thing she did for as soon as Glenna descended the creaky stairs, she became enveloped in darkness. She held the light as high above her head as she could. It had been ages since she stepped into the lower level of the house, not since the first week she arrived. Reed had taken her on a brief tour, waving absently at a door claiming it was his laboratory, but never showed her the inside of the actual room. Glenna always believed it was Reed’s private sanctuary, and if he wanted to show it to her at some point, he would. In the meantime, she decided to leave him in peace. Until today.

Standing at the bottom of the stairs, she made a complete circle examining the large area. On the opposite wall were two doors, and she struggled to remember which one it could be. The answer proved easy enough to ascertain, outside of one lay a tray with breakfast. Nothing had been touched. Glenna pushed aside the tray with her foot and leaned in, placing her ear near the door. Since it was constructed of thick, heavy oak, she couldn’t hear a blessed thing. “Reed?”

No response, and because the door was massive there was no use knocking. She slipped the key into the door and the hinges creaked, the loud noise echoing in the cavernous cellar. A blast of cold, stale air bit into her while mice skittered along the wooden beams overhead. Glenna shuddered as she stepped across the threshold. “Reed,” she whispered harshly. Why was she whispering, for God’s sake? Well, he could be asleep, she reasoned.

Still holding the lantern high, she looked about. Reed lived in a whole other world down here. How surprising to find a small library-study in the bowels of the house. A fire blazed in the stone hearth, the walls taken up by numerous bookcases stuffed with all manner of tomes. A large mahogany desk sat at the front of the room covered in books and note paper. He must do his research in here, she surmised. What a cozy and welcoming area. At least there was a little warmth to be garnered from this room. The well-worn leather sofa looked inviting and comfortable, but Reed wasn’t laying on it.

Glenna continued her journey. The cold air caused goose bumps to rise on her arms, and she immediately missed the heat of the study. Now she stood in a large room which consisted of tables with glass cylinders, flasks, and test tubes in all manners of length, diameter, and shape. An unattended gas burner hissed angrily, throwing a spattering glow to one wall of the laboratory. On a separate table were various microscopes, trays, and small bottles containing liquids of different colors. The entire room seemed at first to be a cacophony of clutter, but Glenna knew Reed did not think or organize like most men. Actually, the majority of men could not think on Reed’s plane or approach of brilliance. On a shelf sat large sealed glass jars with God knows what kind of strange things floating in them.