Love's Peril (Lord Trent Series) (28 page)

“London. I hadn’t considered going.”

“I have to meet with some important people, but I’ve never been to the city, and I’m nervous about traveling alone. I’d like you to escort me. Can you?”

“Ah…yes, I suppose.”

“And we have to sneak away unnoticed. It has to be our secret.”

“All right. Why?”

“I’ll tell you once we’re on the road.”

“Tell me now.”

“I can’t, except to say that I might have figured out how to have Bramble Bay returned to you.”

He grinned. “Really? What about Jean Pierre?”

“I think something bad is about to happen to him.”

“What’s about to happen?”

“When we’re on the road, Hedley, and far away from here. You can find out then.”

She went to the door and crept into the hall. As she glanced back, he was slack-jawed with surprise, his mouth hanging open.

He was such an unreliable, juvenile bungler. She could only hope that he would be silent for a few hours—until she could be certain Raven didn’t know where she was, when she’d left, or where she might be headed.

For she was positive if he found out, she and Hedley would never make it to London alive.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“Raven?”

“I’m here. Don’t be frightened.”

Caroline rose up on an elbow to see him over by the window. He was leaned against the sill and gazing out toward the ocean. Dawn was approaching, but it was still dark, so he didn’t have much of a view.

She’d been sleeping, but once she realized he’d left the bed, she’d immediately awakened.

Since the day Archie had shown up at Bramble Bay, she’d been glued to Raven’s side. She was terrified Archie might sneak back, that he might catch her while Raven was looking the other way.

Raven knew she worried over it, and he’d scold her—as if her distress was an insult to his ability to protect her—but she couldn’t stop fretting. Even though he swore she was safe, she’d written her London address on a piece of paper and slipped it into the pocket of one of his coats so he could find her if she vanished.

They were carrying on like a married couple, as if Raven was her husband instead of Archie. She openly shared his room, not caring a whit what the servants thought about it.

He suffered from insomnia, always vexed by important issues that weighed him down. He never confided in her, though, and she didn’t pry, for she was scared of what his explanations might be.

She was living a life that only trollops were ever allowed. She drank and flirted and fornicated with a wild abandon, and she was having so much fun that she was definitely questioning why she’d spent so many years in moral drudgery.

Mr. Sinclair was returning, and Caroline couldn’t guess what would transpire when he arrived. Everyone was supposed to be gone, but no one had departed—Mildred and Hedley included. Raven had informed the servants that they might be kept at their positions, so they were all waiting to learn their fates.

As to Mildred and Hedley, he wasn’t concerned about their lack of planning and would be thrilled to set them out on the road at Mr. Sinclair’s order.

Caroline hadn’t made plans either. She wanted to stay with Raven, but she was afraid to ask if she could. He seemed fond of her, but she had no idea if he would welcome a continuing connection. And really, it was risky to consider allying herself with him.

She hadn’t discovered much about him or his family or even where he resided other than Mr. Sinclair’s home in France, the precise location of said home never being mentioned. She hadn’t a clue how he earned his income, except that he assisted Mr. Sinclair with his gambling.

In light of all the ships they owned, she suspected he was a smuggler. How could a woman attach herself to such an enigmatic, dodgy fellow? Then again, when she’d wed Archie, he’d been a pillar of the community and look how that had ended.

“Are you all right?”she inquired.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

She chuckled. “You
never
sleep. I don’t know how you keep going.”

“Old habits. My mind is always racing, so I can’t calm myself enough to lie still.”

He’d pulled on a pair of trousers, the front flap unbuttoned so they hung loosely from his hips. His chest was bare, his feet and calves bare. His forearm was pressed to the wood of the sill, his muscles outlined in the moonlight.

Butterflies swarmed in her belly. Prior to meeting him, she hadn’t understood that a man’s body could be so beautiful, so stirring.

“I have to leave in a bit,”he said, glancing over at her.

“Leave?” She sat up, the blankets pressed to her breasts. Did he mean forever? With no warning or notice?

She must have appeared panicked, because he hastily added, “Just for a few hours. I have to take Annalise to Dover.”

“Oh.” Her shoulders slumped with relief.

“I’ll be back late.”

“But you will come back?”

“It’ll just be one day, Caroline. You’ll be fine.”

“Of course I will be,”she firmly agreed. “Why are you taking Miss Dubois to Dover?”

“John is sending her to France.”

“Good. I don’t like her.”

“Neither do I.”

They shared a conspiratorial smile. Miss Dubois was rude and arrogant. She insulted the servants, issued frivolous demands, and complained constantly. She couldn’t go soon enough to suit Caroline.

“He should be here tomorrow,”Raven said.

“Mr. Sinclair?”

“Yes. He’s on his way to England even as we speak.”

“Will he bring Sarah with him?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Will he have ruined her?”

“I wouldn’t view it as a ruination. She’ll have been swept off her feet. There’d be no
ruining
involved.”

“You men. So vain. So set on yourselves.”

“With valid reason. Some of us are wonderful.”

“Please spare me your egotistical drivel,”she scoffed, and they smiled again. “Then what? Once he arrives, what will happen to Sarah and me?” He didn’t reply, so she said, “I haven’t made any arrangements for myself.”

“I realize that.”

“Will I be tossed out of Bramble Bay?”

“I’m not sure what John has decided.”

“I thought you could read his mind.”

“Usually, but not always.”

He spun to peer outside, and he gazed toward the sea so longingly that she could sense his urge to be out on the water, to sail away and never come back to England, to her.

She climbed from the bed, slipped on her robe, and walked up behind him. She wrapped her arms around him and draped herself across his back.

He had terrible scars marring his skin. They appeared to be stab and gunshot wounds. Whatever his occupation, it was obviously perilous and filled with misfortune.

She laid her cheek on the worst scar, a puckered line that ran from his shoulder to his waist. She’d never asked how it had occurred or what had become of the man who’d inflicted it. She couldn’t imagine Raven blithely enduring such an injury without reacting, and she doubted his assailant was still alive.

Had Raven killed in battle? Was he that violent? She’d seen him with Archie, had witnessed his calm ability to terrorize and maim. Did she care?

The resounding answer was
no
. She didn’t care.

From the day her parents had died when she was a tiny girl, she’d never felt safe. Not at Bramble Bay, where she’d been a poor orphan, hated by Mildred. Not in her horrid marriage to Archie where he’d been drunk and spiteful.

With Raven, she felt safe. With Raven by her side, nothing bad could transpire. When her life had been a long string of fear and worry, how could she begrudge him any fault? How could she not love him?

He snuggled her close so he could nuzzle her hair, inhaling her scent as if he wanted to be certain he never forgot it.

“What if Mr. Sinclair tells me to leave?”she inquired. “The only place I have to go is to my husband.”

“I’m hoping John will allow you to remain at Bramble Bay.”

“But you don’t know.”

“No. He had intended to let it rot—”

“Bramble Bay? Why take it from Hedley merely to destroy it?”

“It’s complicated.”

“It definitely must be.”

“Before he left, though, I asked him if we could keep it, if we could visit occasionally.”

“What did he say?”

“He didn’t. I’m supposing I’ll hear more once he rides into the yard.”

“Sarah might have prevailed on him to be kind.”

He snorted. “I wouldn’t count on it. He never listens to women, and he never grows fond. He’ll have had just one use for her.”

“That being sexual relations.”

“Yes.”

“So he’ll dump her here—wrecked and ruined—then he’ll sail off into the sunset?”

“Most likely.”

She studied his dark eyes. “What about you? Will you sail off with him?”

“I go where John goes.”

“Like a faithful dog?”

“Like a loyal and trusted friend. I guard his back.”

“Why are you so devoted?”

“Because he rescued me. He claims
I
rescued him, but it was the other way around. He made me who I am today—instead of who I might have been.”

“And who was that?”

“No one good, that’s for sure. I was headed for a dreadful end, but he saved me. I’ll always be grateful. I’ll always follow him and do as he bids me.”

He announced it like a threat, like a warning, so she would understand that—no matter what—Mr. Sinclair was most important to him. He was telling her that she could never compete, could never be put above Sinclair in his esteem. But if she couldn’t be first in his heart, could she be second? Would that be so bad?

They were quiet, staring out, a hint of dawn lightening the eastern horizon. He sighed and said, “I have to leave.”

“To take Miss Dubois to Dover?”

“Yes. I don’t imagine she’ll depart without an enormous fuss. I need to eat a big breakfast so I have the energy to bicker with her.”

“Why doesn’t she want to go?”

“Why do you think? John’s finished with her, and she’s irked.”

“Really? Why is he finished?”

He shrugged. “In his personal affairs, I don’t try to guess.”

She scrutinized him and decided he was lying, being too circumspect to confess Dubois’s transgression.

“What did she do to get herself sent away?” Caroline was eager to have some clue as to Dubois’s lapse so she didn’t make the same mistake.

“Nothing. John just doesn’t bond with women, and he’s easily bored in his amorous pursuits.”

“He’s ready to move on?”

“Yes.”

“To Sarah?”

“Like I said, I hate to guess, but she’s a tad…tame for his tastes.”

“What about you? Do you bond with women?”

“Not usually—especially married women. That’s a bit tricky.”

“It certainly is. How about
your
amorous pursuits? Are you easily bored, too?”

“I’m not quite as exacting as John, but yes.”

“I see…”

She peered out toward the water, feeling adrift and invisible. She’d never been loved by anyone. Why was life so hard? Why did women have so few options?

She wished she was a man so she could work and travel. She’d purchase a ship, then sail off to the edge of the world and start over. She’d have a grand house and host fabulous parties. She’d have a thousand friends, and people would gush about how witty she was, how charming.

She slid away from him, anxious to be alone so she could mope and lick her wounds in private.

“You’d better be going,”she muttered. “You shouldn’t keep Miss Dubois waiting. She might pitch a fit—which you shouldn’t have to endure this early in the morning.”

She tried to walk away, but he clasped hold of her wrist.

“Would you come to France with me?”he suddenly asked.

It was the last question she’d expected. “To France?”

“Yes.”

“As your what?”

He grinned. “My mistress? My personal trollop? My passion slave?”

“We’d live there? Together?”

“Yes. At John’s. He has a huge home or we could build our own.”

“We’d carry on openly? With me committing adultery every day?”

“It hasn’t seemed to bother you the past month.”

“You’re mad.”

She tried to pull away again, but he only tightened his grip.

“Seriously, Caroline. Would you come?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never been anywhere. And to
France
. I don’t even speak the language.”

“Your other choice is to stay in England. Perhaps at Bramble Bay. Perhaps out on the road—depending on John’s mood when he arrives.”

“I realize that.”

“I can’t stay with you.”

“Why not?”

“I told you: I go where John goes.”

“He won’t remain in England?”

“No longer than is required to return Miss Teasdale and clear up some business. If your husband learned that I’d left, I wouldn’t be around to protect you.”

For an eternity, they were frozen in their spots, her mind awhirl with possibilities.

She loved and trusted him, but was scared to cast her lot with him. If he grew
bored
with her—as he claimed he frequently did—she’d be stranded in France with no friends or funds.

A few minutes prior, she’d bemoaned the fact that, as a female, she had no options. Now she had so many that she felt dizzy with sorting through them all.

Finally, he flashed a rueful smile. “Forget about it. It was a silly idea.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

But apparently, she’d lost her chance.

He laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I couldn’t take you to France.”

“Why not?”

“I’m never there, and my line of work is…hazardous. If I met with foul play, you’d be alone and far from all that was familiar.”

She’d just been lamenting the very same problem, but when he voiced his misgivings, she had to protest.

“I could live there with you. I wouldn’t worry about the future.”

“No.” He shook his head. “It’s better if you stay in England. I’ll make plans for you so you’re safe without me.”

“I could do it!”she insisted. “I simply need some time to consider my choices.”

“Well, with me, you’d never have the benefit of
time
. Things happen fast with me. And I have to tell you, Caroline, I’m not a man you should count on.”