Spellbound (10 page)

Bri could say nothing.
Indeed, what could one say to such a confession? She just stood
there, available if her friend needed her.

The former actress laughed
lowly. “It’s amazing, is it not? I was once the greatest actress
ever to tread the boards. And now…now I’m nothing but an upstart
with pretensions above her station. I’m actually tempted to try to
win a duke.”

Turning back to face Bri,
Raven gestured almost wildly, an action so unlike her that the
other woman took a hasty step back.

“And do you know what? I
won’t survive this, Bri. I’ll either be taken up or wither away and
die from a broken heart.”

“A little melodramatic, my
dear, even for you.”

The two women smiled at
each other. Then Raven said, “I’m going to fight, Bri. I’m going to
ask Adam for his help, if you don’t mind.”

All Bri could do was nod.
She had a sick feeling in her stomach. Raven looked completely
serene yet there was a crazed look in her eye that Bri couldn’t
like.

Raven was finally left
alone. Turning back to the fire, she stared, unseeing, into the
flames.

“You want me to
what?”

Raven’s expression revealed
none of her annoyance. She merely gazed at her former protector,
daring him to call her crazy.

“You heard me, Adam, and
what’s more, you fully understood. Will you do it?”

“You’re asking me to
investigate a duke and his family, looking for…dirt? What makes you
think there is any to find?”

“A mere suspicion. I think
Lord Greyden is the most likely one to have secrets. Start with
him. I think he poses the greatest threat.”

Adam’s hands clenched at
his sides and Raven suspected it had little to do with the
cold.

They stood in the sunlight,
close to the edge of the frozen lake. Raven knew it was a safe
place to talk since Tristan held some sort of aversion for the
place. The others had gone into the village on an outing and the
duchess—the dowager duchess, Raven reminded herself—was off on her
own doing God only knew what.

Showing not a sign of the
chill that threatened to penetrate her very being, Raven waited for
Adam’s reply. He was good at ferreting out any kind of information
one could ever want or need. She just hoped he’d be willing to
help.

“Very well,” he muttered
darkly. “I’ll do what I can since it may save your beautiful neck
at the end of all this.”

She smiled. “Thank you,
Adam. I appreciate all you are willing to do for me.”

He bowed a trifle
mockingly. “My pleasure, dear lady. I will take my leave of you now
and inform Windhaven”—the name was uttered with a shred of
loathing—“that my family will be departing forthwith.”

He turned to leave her but
at the last second, he moved back and pulled her roughly into his
arms, hugging her tightly. “Don’t let anything happen to you while
I’m gone, Raven.”

She smiled into his
shoulder, tears starting in her eyes. “I won’t, Adam. I
promise.”

He released her, staring
down at her with a great deal of affection. Touching her cheek
lightly, he murmured, “After all, what kind of world would this be
without the Ebony Swan?”

“I love you, Adam. Take
care of the new baby. And tell Linnet I’ll come for her
soon.”

She watched him go, sad at
the imminent departure of her friends, but resigned.

Tristan had seen the whole
disgustingly touching scene from his study window. He tortured
himself with visions of the baronet and Raven together, wanting
badly to beat Prestwich to a bloody pulp.

He nearly exploded at the
sight of Adam hugging the actress. He could not go on like this. He
would die of frustration or worse, hang for murder.

Resolved to have this over
once and for all, the duke left his study. Upon entering the foyer,
he realized Adam and his wife were directing servants to pack their
things.

Forcing himself to remain
calm, Windhaven approached the pair to find out what was going
on.

Adam smirked at him. “Just
the man I wanted to see. We are leaving. It is apparent we were
never welcome in the first place. We shall trouble you no
more.”

Bri smiled at the duke with
no less hostility than her husband did. “I would like to take Rae
with us, but she insists on staying.” Her expression turned a
trifle melancholy. She stepped closer and whispered fiercely, “If
you hurt her, duke or no, I will kill you.”

Adam possessed himself of
his wife’s arm and pulled her away from the Duke of Windhaven.
“Apologies, duke. My wife is very protective of her friends.” His
tone suggested the duke had best heed the warning of the pretty
young woman.

Tristan just looked at them
blandly. “I don’t want to hurt her,” he assured them quietly. He
gave no indication that he paid any heed to Bri’s warning or Adam’s
for that matter. He merely stated a fact and they could do what
they wanted with that information.

He watched his guests leave
an hour later. Relieved to finally be quit of them, he went looking
for Raven, who had neglected to come in to see them off.

He found her on the lake.
His heart tripped a beat at the sight. He could barely bring
himself within fifty feet of the frozen body of water. His horror
at the sight of his “wife” out there, skating away as if nothing
were wrong, was nearly enough to throw him into a panic of
monumental proportions.

Unaware of what he was
doing, he edged closer, screaming hoarsely, “Raven, no! Come back!
Please!”

Startled to the point that
she tripped, Raven looked around to see the urbane Duke of
Windhaven on his knees, screaming at her in what appeared to be
unreasoning alarm. He was a good twenty feet from the lake and
reaching out towards her as if he could simply snatch her to him.
He looked completely out of his mind.

Rising painfully to her
feet, as she had managed to bruise her tailbone in her fall, Raven
skated carefully to her “husband.” Neglecting to first remove her
skates, she nearly tripped again in her effort to reach the
distraught man.

She fell to her knees
before him, gathering him to her. He clung to her like a lifeline,
crushing the breath from her, making her gasp.

“Tristan, my dear, what is
it?” she pleaded. He merely squeezed her tighter. She groaned,
wondering if this was how she was meant to die.

He reared back suddenly,
his face a mask of angry worry. “Do not ever go on the
lake!”

Startled beyond anything by
his yelling in her face, she stumbled to her feet, completely
forgetting about the skates still attached to her half-boots. She
twisted her ankle painfully, falling against the duke as he rose
with her. She cried out, trying to push away from him.

“Fool woman, stop! You’ll
only twist it more.” His tone had gentled considerably and Raven
relaxed, but only a very little. This man was proving to be very
unpredictable. And Raven hated unpredictability.

“Whatever is the matter
with you?” she demanded. “Have you taken leave of your
senses?”

Windhaven pushed her down
into a sitting position, then dropped down before her. He ignored
her question, instead probing at her ankle. “It doesn’t appear too
injured. We should get you back into the house.”

Unable to do anything but
allow him, Raven felt herself lifted in strong arms. The duke made
short work of the return to the house, his long legs positively
eating up the distance like nothing. He seemed unburdened by her
not inconsiderable weight. He must have a magnificent
physique.

The thought made her shiver
unexpectedly. Her desire to become well known with that physique
grew with each passing day in this man’s company and she was unsure
she’d be able to resist much longer.

He entered her room and set
her gently on the bed. Meg came in from the dressing room,
exclaiming over the sight of her injured mistress.

“Go get a cloth to wrap the
ankle, Meg,” the duke ordered. The maid swiftly complied, returning
to hand her employer a sturdy bit of cloth she’d managed to procure
from the housekeeper.

“Thank you, Meg. That will
be all,” Raven said firmly. The girl glanced at the duke, who
nodded.

They were alone. Raven
wanted to ask what had happened out there but something in the set
of Tristan’s shoulders warned her not to mention it.

Tristan quickly removed her
boot and reached up beneath her skirt to remove her stocking. Her
heart skipped a beat as he hesitated before finally sliding the
thin garment down her smooth leg. Was it just her imagination or
did his hand linger for a moment on her bare calf?

He cleared his throat as he
tied off the bit of cloth. “That should hold your ankle fairly
straight. Try to stay off it for a while. I will send for Doctor
Murphy but he probably won’t be here until tomorrow.” He rose a
trifle unsteadily to his feet. He moved to leave but Raven’s voice
stopped him in his tracks.

“Will you not tell me what
is wrong?”

He wanted nothing more than
to ignore her but something in her voice begged for understanding.
He knew he couldn’t possibly confess his abject fear of the lake.
He could, however, appease at least part of her query with a little
white lie.

“I had heard the lake was
starting to thaw. I was worried.”

Raven was an actress of
phenomenal proportions. Hence, she could tell a lie when she heard
one. And his actions by the lake had gone far beyond mere worry. He
had been terrified and nearly hysterical.

But it was not time for
confessions, she could see.

“Will you carry me down to
dinner?” she asked instead.

The way his broad shoulders
visibly relaxed, she knew she had relieved his mind by avoiding
what was obviously a painful subject.

It was yet another mystery
Miss Raven Emerson was determined to solve.

On January 29, mad King
George died. His son, the despised and adored Prince Regent, became
King George IV.

The country was thrown into
mourning and muted celebration. The new king immediately demanded a
Bill of Divorce be granted him. And so began long tedious months of
debate in the House of Lords, requiring the presence of virtually
every titled man in Britain. Lord Windhaven managed a suitable
excuse to beg off, citing family matters that could not be ignored.
He was granted permission to stay home and tend to his family. It
was probably helpful that Windhaven happened to be on rather
friendly terms with the new king, as well.

The Duchess of Windhaven
was particularly distraught over the whole matter. Her friendship
with the queen was well known and, while she hadn’t seen her friend
in quite some time, she had kept up a faithful correspondence with
the new king’s mother.

She immediately departed
for London escorted by her grandson, Lord Greyden.

Adam was astonished and
appalled and maybe even a little amused. What he’d discovered about
Lord Greyden Cramshaw was not what he had expected. Far from it. He
had expected to find the usual failings in a younger son, namely,
dissipation, women, and gambling debts. What he’d found was much
worse…or better, depending on one’s point of view.

With a faint smile a vague
desire to see Raven’s face when she discovered what he had, Adam
began to pen a note…

“Dear Rae, I have
discovered something of no little interest. I have it on the best
authority—mine—that young Greyden has been keeping secrets. My
dear, go to this address, and all will be revealed. A”

Raven made note of the
address then set the vellum aside, wondering what on earth had Adam
sounding almost giddy. It must be something particularly shocking
but not necessarily vile. Adam would never send her somewhere
dangerous so she had to assume this secret was scandalous rather
than unnatural.

Wondering how she could go
to the address indicated without drawing unwelcome attention or
suspicion, Raven went for a walk. It occurred to her that she
wasn’t even sure where the place was located. Although the address
was of a village she was sure was in the vicinity, she was unsure
which direction or where to go once she reached it.

She started walking toward
Lower Kempworth, just idling away her time, when she noticed the
duke in his curricle. He pulled up beside her and doffed his
hat.

“Care to go for a drive,
wife?” he asked pleasantly.

The scene at the lake had
not been mentioned between them again and they had gotten on in
relative peace in the two weeks since. So, Raven smiled and
accepted the hand he offered her.

Once settled, she pasted a
benign look on her face and asked innocently. “Where is Speldhurst
located? I heard one of the servants mention the place and I have
to admit I’ve never heard of it.”

He gave her a quizzical
look. “It’s just a little northwest of Tunbridge Wells. Did you
want to go visit?”

Unsure whether he was
speaking of Speldhurst or Tunbridge Wells, Raven declined. This was
something she needed to do alone.