Spellbound (17 page)

“Anyway, Huntley, received
a mysterious message from someone claiming to know you personally,
duke. This message intimated that you married someone posing as
Lady Rachael Eliot.”

“Who the devil would have
sent such a message?” Tristan asked, truly puzzled.

“Lord Greyden?” suggested
Adam.

“Never. He wanted the
actress not the noblewoman. It would not have served his purposes
to have her hanged as an impostor.”

“Who else would claim such
a standing with a duke?”

“Perhaps it was him,”
Linnet offered almost in a whisper, pointing to the closed
door.

Tristan stared at her,
wondering if the child was a lackwit. “Who? Preston?”

“No, that other man. The
squirrelly one.”

Adam was now looking at her
odd, as well. Linnet rolled her eyes heavenward, as if greatly put
out by the stupidity of men, and moved to the door. She swung it
wide to reveal the man she was speaking of, crouched down with his
ear to where the keyhole would have been.

“Muffton!”

Even Linnet jumped at the
menacing tone of the duke’s voice. He advanced on his librarian,
intent on murder. Adam stopped him with a few well-chosen
words.

“Huntley’s been dispatched
here to investigate further, so killing the weasel now will do no
good. And you,” he added, addressing Muffton, “will pack your
things and leave just as soon as may be. You will walk to Lower
Kempworth and take the stage to whatever stop is farthest from
here. You will then take another stage and do the same. Repeat the
process once more and there you will stay. And do not think that I
will not know if you do not do exactly as I have instructed. If I
find that you have ignored my orders, I will find you and tell
Windhaven where you are.” He let the inherent threat sink in. “Now,
go!”

The duke watched grimly as
the little man scurried from the room with his tail between his
legs. He then turned to his hitherto unwelcome guest and asked
sweetly, “When did I hire you to speak for me?”

The youngest of their group
drew their attention back to the vital topic at hand. And just in
time, too, as her hero was about to lay into the duke without
mercy.

“If Lord Huntley sees you,”
Linnet explained to her still silent sister, “he may take you up on
charges or support the claim. We are unsure which.”

“He will support the
claim,” the duke said decisively. He took a deep breath to calm his
anger. “The scandal would be astronomical should he not and the
fact that Raven is, in actuality, Lady Rachael would make his
having her arrested rather self-destructive.”

Raven, hitherto a mute
witness to talk that concerned her very survival, suddenly couldn’t
stand anymore. For the second time in her life, she
fainted.

“You really mustn’t make a
habit of this, my love.”

Raven smiled at the chiding
tone, not bothering to open her eyes. “Have I survived,
then?”

A low chuckle greeted her
question. “Indeed you have.”

A moment of tense silence
ensued that so unnerved Raven that she finally opened her eyes to
peek at the man to whom she’d given her heart.

He looked so serious that
she was tempted to pretend another faint just to avoid a lot of
tedious questions.

Deciding against that, she
tried to sit up. “Come, darling, help me up. I need to be up for
your questions, I think.”

Tristan obliged her,
saying, “It is you who should be asking the questions.”

Having settled herself
comfortably on the low chaise, she replied, “Indeed. What did you
mean telling them I am Lady Rachael? You know it cannot be
true.”

“But it is. There are a few
missing pieces of the puzzle, to be sure, but I have no doubt you
are indeed Lady Rachael.”

Her mouth dropped open.
“But I cannot be, Tristan. I remember my parents quite clearly. And
they loved me. I am not Lady Rachael.”

Tristan stood and paced a
few steps away from her. “Think, my dear. Just this morning you
told me of certain memories that do not coincide with your
upbringing. A cat your father gave you but said you couldn’t keep.
A dark-haired boy who was your best friend and constant companion.
A locket given to you on your fifth birthday that you lost.” He
paused. “Well, I suppose that could have been Emerson.” Shaking his
head, he continued. “How do you explain any of this unless you are,
indeed, someone else?”

Raven shrugged helplessly.
“I cannot. But I also cannot believe I am the daughter of a peer.
Do you realize what I’ve done?”

“Done?”

“Oh, Tristan. I was an
actress. The daughter of a marquess simply does not do that. The
daughter of a marquess would die before she would do something so
damaging to her reputation, not to mention the fact that I have
taken protectors. Dear Lord, Tristan, even if I am Lady Rachael,
Dunston would never acknowledge me. In fact, he would have to have
me arrested as an impostor to save his family the shame of an
immoral woman in their family.”

“Of all the nonsensical
things I have ever heard!”

Raven’s seldom seen temper
ignited. “Nonsensical? It is my neck we are discussing here, your
grace, not the cut of your coat. I can assure you I find nothing
I’ve said to be nonsensical!”

“You are my wife. He
wouldn’t dare—”

“I AM NOT YOUR
WIFE!”

They stared at each other
in shock. Raven covered her mouth with her hand, astounded that
such loud and angry words had come from her lips.

Tristan’s face went blank
in the face of her indignation. “A situation that will be remedied,
Rae,” he said softly.

In her frustration, Raven’s
eyes filled with tears. “No, Tristan, no. Dear God, can you
imagine? A duke marrying an actress? You would be treated as a
social pariah, scorned, pitied. If you need proof, just look to
your friends. They were only too willing to believe you’d been
duped.” A tear escaped, winding slowly down her pale cheek. “I
couldn’t do that to you, my dear. I just couldn’t,” she whispered
miserably.

The duke went to his knees
before her. Gently brushing the tear away, he asked, “Do you love
me?”

She nodded, beyond the
desire to keep any of herself from him. “I do. To my shame, I
do.”

“Then marry me, Rae. If you
love me truly, marry me.”

Another tear trickled from
her dark eyes. “I love you”—he smiled—“too much to do that to
you.”

“I cannot live without you,
Rae. My life was meaningless before I met you. I’ve loved you from
the first moment I saw you. You cannot possibly love me if you mean
to leave me in this agony I’ve lived in for thirty
years.”

The former actress released
an exasperated sigh. “How can you love me, knowing what I am?” she
asked. “Knowing I have had other men before you? Knowing how I
compromised my own beliefs for a few minutes of sexual
gratification? Knowing I am a whore?”

Her voice had risen to a
near shout, her anxiety reaching out to him, causing his own temper
to rise. Stepping back physically, he fisted his hands at his
sides, straining against the urge to yell out his own anger. He
realized a shouting match would get them nowhere.

Quietly, his voice heavy
with feeling, he spoke. “What do I have to do to prove to you that
I don’t care what the devil anyone thinks?”

“And what they think of me?
Will you beat everyone who casts their eyes towards me with either
repugnance or licentiousness? Will you abuse those ladies who draw
their skirts away and cross as far from me as possible to avoid the
possible contamination of my touch?” She sighed deeply, her hand
going to him in an appeal for understanding. “It would eat you
alive, Tristan. And I would be at fault. I can’t let that
happen.”

It was time to bow out
gracefully, the duke realized. As long as she believed herself to
be nothing more than an actress-turned-impostor, she would not be
swayed.

He would simply have to
wait until Dunston arrived and convince the man to accept Raven as
his daughter…or else.

Adam stayed. He said Linnet
needed to be with her sister and he wanted to be there in case
things should go wrong.

Tristan didn’t need to ask
how things could go wrong. Should Dunston declare Raven an impostor
and demand her immediate incarceration, Adam would get the actress
safely away.

And so they believed
themselves to be reasonably ready for the arrival of the man
Tristan fully suspected of being Raven’s brother.

It was therefore, rather a
surprise when not only the Earl of Huntley but Lord Dunston himself
presented themselves one afternoon two days after Adam’s arrival.
And with them they brought another gentleman, a man with a
particular interest in the entire situation.

Raven had been crossing the
hall when she heard the front bell ring. Will answered, a certain
trepidation in his manner that Raven couldn’t help but wonder at
when he saw who it was.

“Kindly inform Lord
Windhaven of our arrival.”

Raven, who had been about
to make her presence known, abruptly stilled. That voice. She knew
that voice. But from where?

Needing to see the face of
the man with that gravelly voice, she stepped closer.

She had only taken a few
steps when the youngest of the three gentlemen suddenly turned,
spearing her with a look. His eyes were black, fathomless, a
flawless match to his dark, straight locks. His features were
finely drawn, classically beautiful. In fact, he looked just
like…

“Rachael.”

She started. The name was a
mere breath of sound, hardly audible and yet she heard it clear to
her marrow.

The young man moved forward
but was stalled by the older gentleman’s hand on his
arm.

“Softly, Gervase. We do not
know yet that it is she,” this man cautioned.

Gervase. Gerry.

Raven gasped.
“Gerry.”

“See, Antoine, it is she.
She knows me.”

Antoine scoffed. “She heard
me call you Gervase. Of course she would assume you went by Gerry
in your youth. This is a skilled actress we are dealing with
here.”

Raven hardly heard them.
She was in shock.

Benson, faithful servant
that he was, sought to draw their collective attention back to
himself. “My lords, if you would care to follow me, I will announce
you.”

They reluctantly did so,
the oldest of the three strangely silent. He watched Raven like a
hawk, noting every tiny movement of her hands, every indrawn
breath, every tiny shudder that wracked her slender
frame.

Moving with decision, he
beckoned to her. “Come, my dear, as this is of concern to you. We
shall have this out in no time and resolved to everyone’s
satisfaction. Come.”

Raven stared at his
outstretched hand. As if in a dream, she reached out and took his
thin, bony fingers. He smiled charmingly and led her into the
drawing room.

Tristan shocked family and
servants alike when he ran through the manor and burst through the
drawing room door as if Satan himself pursued him.

Raven stood at his entrance
completely unprepared for the wild look of him. His green eyes
swept the room, landed on her and he surged forward to pull her
into his arms, hugging her close.

Stepping back a pace, he
looked her over, his hands framing her face. “Are you
well?”

She released a startled
laugh. “Of course I am well, my lord,” she assured him softly.
Gently moving his hands from her face, she added, “You are being
disgracefully rude to our guests, my love.”

Tristan became aware of the
other occupants almost immediately. His grandmother was there as
well as the aunts and Freya with Linnet perched beside her. Griff
and Delilah sat with stunned looks on their faces and Adam was
silently laughing at him from his stance before the fire. Greyden
was noticeably absent due to his lingering injuries.

There were three new
arrivals as well. Three gentlemen sat or stood to one side,
conspicuous by their travel dress.

Bowing stiffly while
retaining his hold on Raven’s hand, he murmured, “Gentlemen, pray
forgive me.” His tone suggested he cared not one way or the other
what they did.

Raven sent him an
admonitory glance. “Tristan, this is my Lord Dunston, my Lord
Huntley, and Comte du Larousse. Gentlemen, his grace, the Duke of
Windhaven.”

The dowager nodded
graciously in Raven’s direction, indicating her approval of the
introductions. Raven smiled briefly at her, distracted by Tristan’s
reaction to these men.

After a terse
acknowledgment of their identities, the duke rudely turned his back
to their guests. “What has happened?” he demanded in a whisper.
“Have they insulted you?”

A nervous laugh threatened.
“They have hardly had time, my lord. It has only been a few
minutes, I promise, and the introductions took most of that. All is
well, I assure you.”