Lady Falls (Black Rose Trilogy) (18 page)

Chapter Twenty-one

It was less than ideal to ride through the pitch black of night to Gretna Green and Phillip held her close in the rattling confines of the carriage for two hours before he decided that they’d gone far enough.

He signaled the driver to stop at the next decent inn.

“Are you sure, Phillip?” Raven asked.

He smiled.  “We’ll get there soon enough and since in this instance, we have no angry guardian to elude but instead are going happily of our own accord—I don’t see why we can’t stop and get a decent night’s sleep.”

Raven cheered instantly.  “I would like to be fresh for our wedding and not a bruised and travel weary harridan.”

He laughed.  “Well, when you say it like that, we should have stopped in the village six miles ago!”

She rewarded him with a kiss to his cheek and a playful nip at his earlobe.  “Be kind, husband-to-be!”

“I shall do my best to please you, wife-to-be.”

The carriage stopped soon enough and the lovers alighted at a small humble establishment set at a crossroad.  Raven waited at the carriage and helped point out which small valise to take inside while Phillip went ahead of her and paid the innkeeper for the best room he had available.

As they wearily climbed the stairs, Phillip held her hand with one arm protectively out to keep her steady.  The innkeeper pointed at the door at the end of the hall.  “It’s there.  Here’s a tray with some libations for you and your missus.  If you need anything else, just call down the stairs.”

Phillip awkwardly took the tray and Raven smiled as the man abandoned them to their own devices.  “He was…very gracious.”

Phillip laughed.  “Nothing but the best for you, my love!”

“Come, let’s see what your coin has bought us for the night.”  Raven pushed open the door and sighed happily.  It was a simple room but clean and not as drafty as she’d feared.  For several minutes, they quietly tended to the comforts of the room, lighting the candles and seeing to a fire, airing out the bedding and pouring the wine.

Raven loved the domestic magic of knowing that each gesture was a hint of what it would be in the years to come.  She would learn the way he liked all things and strive to please him. 
Or at least, make an effort when I can…for surely no wife has ever managed to make her husband smile at all of life’s turns.  I’ll attempt it and earn this happiness that is threatening to make me cry.

“Wine, my love?” Phillip held out a ceramic cup to her.

She wrinkled her nose.  “I would rather not.”

“I expected your refusal.”  He set the cup down.  “But here, come sit with me and let me give you something long overdue.”

“Is it a kiss?” she asked eagerly.

Phillip laughed.  “Here.  Look for yourself.”

He waited until she was sitting next to him on the settee by the fire and then held out a small black leather box.

She took it shyly, opening it to reveal a ring of gold inlaid with pale blue topaz and diamonds.  “Oh!  It’s lovely!”

“The stones reminded me of your eyes,” he confessed.  “I wanted to give it to you after I’d talked to the earl but…we didn’t exactly make it until tomorrow as planned, did we?”

“Nothing went quite as I’d planned, Phillip.”

He nodded.  “I know.  But I want you to see this as a sign, my darling, that all will be well.  Even if you and I tend to back into our joy by accident and happenstance, it doesn’t mean that we lack intention.”

“A proper engagement ring,” she whispered.

“Because we are about to be properly married, Miss Wells.”

“Yes!” Raven’s eyes shone with unshed tears and he placed the ring on her hand where it fit perfectly by design.  “I cannot believe that it is possible to be this happy and still manage to breathe!”

“Perhaps we’ll get used to it,” he said and then leaned over to kiss her cheek.  “I only wish we weren’t the only ones to know this bliss.”  He sighed.  “I hope poor Lady Morley finds some measure of safety.”

“I am certain she has.” 

“How can you be?  He left in his carriage and with two outriders only minutes after she was discovered missing.  I think in this instance, your optimism has to accept the inevitable.  He will have her in hand long before sunrise.”

She smiled.  “Hardly.  I knew she couldn’t outpace him on a muddy road.  What a ridiculous proposition!”

“Then…how could she have eluded him?”

“You are assuming she left just after the play.”

“Didn’t she?”

Raven was glowing with her mischievous triumph.  “No!  I had her things loaded into the Carlton’s carriage and Lady Morley and Mrs. Lindstrom were hiding inside the coach with the curtains drawn.  It wasn’t until the Carlt
ons left that I knew they were properly away, and Lord Morley would never think to search that neighboring estate.  Not in time,” she added.  “Mrs. Carlton’s tears were quite convincing, were they not?”

“H-how?  The Carltons were in on it?  Truly?”

“Mrs. Carlton was.  But she knew her husband well enough to know that the instant he was informed of the truth, he would happily become our accomplice.  Lady Morley and her maid will hide at the squire’s for a few days and then make their way to Belgium where Millicent has relatives.”

“What truth?”

“Lord Morley was cruelly beating his wife and she feared for her life.”

“My God!  Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was sworn to keep her secret and she was terrified that your male loyalty to her husband or aversion to her illegal escape would betray our plans.”

“I would never have done that!”

Raven reached up to smooth out the anger on his face.  “Phillip.  It wasn’t my secret to give away and no reflection of my trust in you.  It was Millicent’s nightmare and I know you respect her courage for ending it.”

He sighed.  “Yes.  But enough of that now.  I cannot think of the worst.  Not tonight.”  He stood and lifted her up into his arms to carry her cradled against his chest, striding toward the room’s narrow bed. 

Raven giggled as they landed on the surprisingly soft feather mattress.  “I look forward to sleeping in your arms.”

He laughed at the lack of room that ensured an intimate night.  “It seems you’ll have to.”

Triumph made them both bold.  They undressed each other in a slow dance, relishing the new balance between them.  They had each toyed with their power over the other, conquering or surrendering in turn, but now it was as if they had nothing to prove.  And it was the most heady and freeing sensation of all.

The candles were extinguished until it was firelight alone that cast the room in shifting shadows and warmed them.

“Surprise me, Raven.  Rule me.”

“As you wish.”

His dare spurred her on as she pushed him back onto the bed.  Then with one mischievous look at Phillip, she knew that he would deny her nothing.  Raven knelt  over him, thighs spread on either side of his head, her sex at the ready for his kisses.  He gripped her hips and lifted her up to set his mouth against her.  She was in control but it was Phillip’s tongue that set the pace.  She danced in a gypsy’s gyrating turn atop him, touching her own breasts, lifting them for him, reveling in the wicked thrill of it.

Shifting up, she turned as an even naughtier idea came to her.  With his tongue darting up inside of her and teasing her clit, she seized his cock in both of her hands and lowered her mouth over it, sucking and stroking him.  Her imagination took hold as she imagined that he was already inside of her, that his beautiful flesh was sheathed and resheathed in the grip of her muscles.

She came and lost her rhythm, crying out as a spasm of ecstasy robbed her of grace.  By the time she came back to her senses, she could only look at him apologetically, for there was no evidence that she’d achieved more than her own satisfaction.

But instead he rewarded her.

He sorted them out to cover her with his body, parting her thighs, delving into the throbbing flesh between her legs with his fingers and when she arched her back to come again, he plowed into her against the bedding, rocking his stone hard flesh up into the yielding channel of molten fire that fit him perfectly.

As if she’d been made for him, carved from ether and prayers by a benevolent power and Phillip drank it in.  He made love to Raven until their strength was spent and they could give no more.

As the fire died in the hearth, they lay chest to chest and nose to nose, whispering of their hopes and dreams for the years to come.  Phillip sighed and his last thought before sleep claimed him was of pure satisfaction.

Won.  I won.

Chapter Twenty-two

Phillip watched Raven as she dozed on the seat across from him.  Neither of them had slept much the night before and he reveled in how their passions ignited his soul.  Instead of exhaustion, he was experiencing a sense of renewal and invincibility as if the world were his for the taking with Raven at his side.

What a force she was!

He liked the man he’d become in her company and entertained himself imagining the life they would share together, the children they would sire and the accomplishments of their years.

Rain began to fall softly and added another layer of sensation to their isolation inside the tiny world of the carriage’s interior.  Here was a universe with only Raven that made him happily forfeit the existence of any other.

Phillip carefully stretched out his legs so as not to disturb her or her voluminous skirts and tucked his hands into his pockets for warmth.  The folded paper was an unexpected discovery, so he pulled it out with mild curiosity.  The black wax seal bore the Earl of Trent’s arms and Phillip turned it over in his hands.

Warrick - To be opened after your marriage.

Phillip smiled. He guessed that the earl had slipped the note into his pocket when they’d been making their farewells and that it was no doubt, some clarification of Raven’s dowry or a formal wish for their marital happiness.  After one glance at his lady love, Phillip impulsively decided that since they’d hardly waited to do anything in its proper order he didn’t see that the earl’s directive should be exempt.

He broke the seal and began reading Trent’s familiar handwriting with a comfortable sigh. 

And then there was no thought of comfort.

Dear Warrick,

By the time you read this, I expect you will have the rise and fall of the ocean beneath you as you and your precious bride sail forth.  What a lovely notion!

There are just a few things I neglected to tell you before your departure to rushed nuptials.  You have married a creature that can only be described as a piece of penniless garbage without legitimate name, fortune or reputation.  Her dowry is a feral love of pleasure and a talent for ruin. Enjoy!  I have it on good authority from my male servants and several houseguests that your new wife is sure to provide you a heated bed to rival any whore in London. 

What a lucky man you are!

Raven is a brilliant player, don’t you think?  Be sure to convey my thanks to her again for assisting me in your downfall.  What a dutiful ward she has proven to be!

Best of all: you claimed her out from under my roof with multiple reliable witnesses in attendance, announced your eternal love and then swept her away despite my “protests”.  What delicious fodder for the scandal mills!  This match will provide entertainment for our peers for years to come.  No worries.  I’ll dispatch the news to the papers so that not a salacious detail is ever forgotten.

Farewell and Good Luck.

I win.

Trent

The world hadn’t come to an end because he could still hear the sounds of the horses, the rattle of the carriage wheels and the soft patter of the rain against the roof and windows.  But he couldn’t feel anything.  Not the paper in his hands or the fingers that held the vile message.  He couldn’t feel his own heartbeat or the breath slipping past his lips.

Phillip had no idea how long he remained in that strange suspended state but when it ended, it ended with a roar of pain and rage that overtook reason.  He hammered on the carriage wall to signal the driver and the horses pulled to a stop.

Raven immediately awoke at the commotion, startled by the sudden sound of his distress, her eyes confused as her dreams were wrested from their reach.  “Is it…highwaymen?  Are we—in danger?”

“Get out!” Phillip kicked the carriage door open.  “You vicious little bitch!  Get out of this carriage!”

“What?!” Raven sat up, ramrod straight, her face draining of color.  “What have I done?  Are you mad?”

He thrust the letter at her and began to physically bundle her from her seat.  “Here.  Take it and have your piece
of the triumph, you heartless witch!”

“Phillip!” she screamed as she was propelled onto the road, her skirts instantly spoiled by the mud.  “What is this cruelty?!”

“Sir?” the coachman asked in alarm.

“Throw her baggage off!  Miss Wells will be leaving us here!”

The man ducked his head and immediately obeyed as the lady began to wail in horror.  Her trunks and hatboxes made a pitiful sight as they were ejected without ceremony into a mound alongside the hedges.

“Phillip!  Stop this ma
dness, I beg you!  What has happened?  You—I love you, Phillip! We—all that has passed between us—to what cause can—“

“Don’t!  Don’t you dare speak to me of love!  You whose very existence makes a mockery of that sentiment!  What do you know of love?” he demanded
, his voice shaking with emotion.  “How dare you!  What a fool I was to hand my heart over to a practiced whore!  Though to my credit, you are quite the actress, Raven.  I believed in you so completely I never even slowed to ask how such happiness was possible.  But I know the answer now, don’t I, my darling!”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying!  Please, Phillip.  I dare to speak of love because it is the only language I know when I look at you!”  Raven reached up to try to catch one of his hands but Phillip pulled away as if she were a leper.

  “You think to play me for Trent?  To laugh at my ruin?  Well, you may get a chuckle or two from our adventures but I’ll be damned if I ever lay eyes on you again!  Good bye, Raven.  Rot in Hell!”  Phillip slammed the carriage door closed, drew the curtains shut and banged on the wall to propel the carriage forward.

He closed his eyes as her screams echoed down the lane until he couldn’t hear her anymore and it was all he could do to keep his own screams of rage and pain from slipping past his lips.

Damn you, Raven Wells.

She cried out for the carriage to stop, for the world to right itself, for her beloved Phillip to come back to his senses and to her arms.  She screamed until her voice deserted her and raw braying sobs gave way to silent tears.  The rain began to fall in earnest and Raven stumbled back to the strange remnants of her life.  Leather trunks and pretty hatboxes were so out of place in the grass, perhaps as out of place as she imagined she appeared.  The dark green silk of her dress was a streaked muddy disaster and she could do nothing but wait.

She’d been dreaming about a grand ball.  It was a waltz and Phillip was there in a vaguely erotic embrace.  The room was gold and Raven was laughing as her slippers barely touched the floor.

And then Phillip was shouting and—

Not wearing a bonnet.

A practical voice inside her head interrupted the plummet of her thoughts.  Raven hiccupped in agony and blindly put the unread letter that Phillip had given her into her skirt pocket. 
God, yes.  Let’s not think of him.  Let’s not… It’s raining and I have a bare head.  Bonnet.  I have half a dozen.

She knelt next to a hatbox and pulled out an impractical thing with peacock feathers and a wild flourish of organza on its crest, only to drop it onto the ground. 
Useless thing that. 
She tried another and another, only to add their exotic colors to the ruin of the scene around her.  One of the bonnets was made from a fabric so fine it nearly melted at the touch of rain and she laughed mirthlessly. 
What a useless thing!  Like me, yes?  Silk and feathers and…I’m crumbling at the first touch of cold and rain.

The last box finally yielded a smart little straw bonnet with a frivolous lavender velvet bow that had once made her smile.  She removed the bow to let it fall at her feet before putting on the bonnet that offered some slight protection from the elements.

The search for a coat or wrap came next and the casualties of that search were even more voluminous.  By the time she’d located a reasonable cloak lined with fur, the ditch was strewn in a rainbow of gowns that fluttered pitifully in the wind as they fought against the rain that was driving them into the earth. 

A small handled leath
er case for her jewels and any small item of immediate worldly value was the only thing she collected until she finally stepped back onto the road.  Raven looked for a long time in the direction that Phillip’s carriage had gone as if staring might yet summon him back.

Practiced whore.

Heartless bitch.

Rot in Hell.

It had been easy in the orphanage to dismiss insults because one heard them so often that they were expected.  But from the startling source of a man who had sworn his eternal love, decried her every part as priceless, from the person that only hours ago had made her cry out his name in pleasure…

There’s a cut that may never stop bleeding.

“Phillip.”  Her voice was rough and she winced at the croaking sound of it.  Then nodded for it seemed only right that the last time she would speak his name would have no beauty in it.  Here was a loss she wasn’t ready to measure but Raven Wells was not a piece of delicate silk to lie down in the mud and gulp down shame.

She turned her back against the direction that Phillip had taken and pivoted to face the other way.

It was human nature to want to look back, to take one last view of the life she had had, the love she had lost and the dream that had died in the violence of minutes.  Raven nodded in acceptance of the longing to linger and then lifted her chin one firm inch in defiance.

Raven Wells tightened her grip on her bag and began the long walk through the storm.

And vowed to
never
look back.

Finis