Lady Falls (Black Rose Trilogy) (14 page)

“Good girl,” Lord Trent nodded.  “By the way, I love the way you sent Warrick packing, Raven.  He looked as crestfallen as a pup when he left just then.”

“Did he?”  She swallowed hard, unease creeping across her skin.  “I didn’t mean to bruise his feelings.”

“Are you doing as I’ve asked, Raven?  Are you leading him a merry chase?” he asked.

When did you ask me to lead him on a merry chase? 

“I must confess that I—“

“Shhh!  Do I look like a priest to you?  It’s a ball, Raven, and no place for confessions.  Besides, I have not forbidden your attachment, have I?”

“No.  You didn’t.”  She tried to ignore the sensation that something was wrong.  “You thought he would avoid me if he thought I had no dowry but—“

“I don’t want to talk about this now, Raven.  Besides, I’ve made such broad hints of your fortunes, perhaps that strategy was useless.”  He smiled as if they were discussing his favorite dogs.  “Do whatever you wish but do not ask me about Warrick again.”

“Your lordship?”

The dance ended and he stepped back curtly.  “No more talk of Warrick.  Don’t ruin my evening.”

He turned and left her on the floor, a scandalous move since manners dictated that no unmarried woman cross the dance floor alone.  Thankfully, one of her admirers swept in to save her and her humiliation was averted.  Within minutes, she’d put the incident from her mind for a time.  When her new partner stomped on her toes, she laughed and used it as an excuse to pardon herself from the throng.

Raven slipped away to steal a few private moments.  She took advantage of one of the servants’ doors and walked outside to absorb the cold night’s air and admire the view of the glittering party through the windows.  By deliberately keeping out of the light’s touch on the grass, she knew she was completely invisible to the guests inside.

Can you die from the thrill of giddy social triumph?

Raven hugged her elbows at the notion, wishing that she could clasp this sensation of strange joy tightly enough to keep it forever, to soak it into her bones.

“Are you catching your breath?” 

She turned with a gasp at the unfamiliar gravel in the man’s voice.  “Sir?”

“I am the Duke of Northland.” He inclined his snow white covered head a single inch.  “At your service.”

She curtsied in one graceful motion, trembling at the prospect of meeting such a man out of her element.  “Your Grace.  I am Raven Wells, ward to the Earl of Trent.”

“Charmed.  If you are not catching your breath, then are you hiding from some anticipated horror, Miss Wells?"

“What horrors could possibly touch me on a night like this?” she said with a smile.  “You are too melancholy, Your Grace.”

He smiled, stepping out from the shadows but not entirely embracing the light from the room.  “Am I?”

She nodded, the euphoria dancing still clouding her senses.  “As your reputation demands, I expect.”

“How did he manage it?  In one gentle frame to have raised a creature so wild and so adept at the trappings of civilization?”

She pressed her fingertips to her cheeks.  “I spoke without censure!”

“It is your youth that speaks so and it is your greatest asset.  But then youth would also be your greatest weakness.  I allude to horror and you deny its existence.  God,” he let out a soft sigh, “may life never teach you the error in that.”

“I—I did not hear you announced and my guardian and your host, Lord Trent would be mortified to think I’d met such a peer while I was hiding out on the lawn.”

The duke shook his head.  “I am not expected.  He invites me to everything but I, I never attend.  Anything.  As my reputation demands.”

Raven tipped her head to one side to take a different measure of the man.  The mysterious Duke of Northland had been more of a ghostly figure than anything else for as long as she could remember.  She’d seen his name on a card on her guardian’s desk years ago and Geoffrey had forbidden her to speak his name aloud.  But the duke was on every guest list that Lord Trent kept.  Their correspondence was always under lock and key and provided more security than any treasure or trinket in the house.

But here he was.  A man, after all, and not a ghost. 

“I should have recognized you, Your Grace.”

“How is that, Miss Wells?” he asked.

“Two years ago, I was in Stathmore to visit a friend of Trent’s and to shop when your carriage stopped on a journey to London I imagine.  It caused quite a stir.  Just your coat of arms on the carriage door was enough to send every woman who possessed a decent gown scurrying for her powders.”

“Did they indeed?”

“I’ll admit I was as eager as any to see what a duke looks like.”

“Did I disappoint?”

It was an open invitation for flattery that she ignored, not out of malice but simply because she didn’t think someone as elevated as a duke had much need for the convention.  “You weren’t what I expected but I don’t think it’s possible to disappoint when even your footmen have gilt on their sleeves.”

“What did you expect to see in a duke?”

“I don’t wish to say.”

Silence was his reproach and she relented with a small twinge of misery.  “Very well but before I answer I wish to say that of all the meetings with a duke I had envisioned, none of my fantasies included me making such a muck and mess of it!”

“Understood.”

“I thought you would be much taller and not quite as chubby,” she confessed miserably.  “And while the livery was very shiny, you were wearing the dullest waistcoat I’ve ever seen.  There.  I’m made despicable.”

“I love your honesty.”

His voice caught and Raven was stilled by a strange flash of emotion in his eyes.  “Your Grace?”

“Tell me what my reputation demands, Miss Wells.  What kind of man am I?”

“You are…as unknown to me as a star in the heavens, Your Grace.  As far above me and as distant, I’m afraid to say.  But imagination and rumor takes hold and I have only heard whispers of a lonely man who rarely ventures out into the world that he is the master of.”

“Am I a cruel man?” he asked.

She stared at him in shock at the question.  Eyes the color of gray smoke like her own reflected only pain and without thinking she reached out a gloved hand to touch his arm.  “Never! No one could think it!  And if they claimed such a thing, I would amend their opinion with my own!”

“And what is your opinion to counter theirs?”

“That whatever has driven you from the world, must have been terrible, indeed and…that it is not our place to judge such a great man.  I am no one, Your Grace.  Truly.  But if a girl who is nothing can befriend an element in the heavens, I hope you will accept my care.”

“How did he manage it?” His smile lacked warmth and never touched the agony in his eyes as he retreated from her touch.  “I never thought to meet you, my dear but I am glad that my reason was overruled by my curiosity.  I wanted to see Trent’s ward for myself.”

“Your Grace?”

“Good evening, Miss Wells.”

“Good evening, Your Grace,” she said, and curtseyed again, well aware that her audience with him had come to an end and that there was no argument or amendments she could make before he turned on his heels and left without another word.

I cannot believe I spoke so boldly to a duke!

And that he still manages to wear the most dreadful waistcoats I have ever seen…

Chapter Fifteen

She’d left Phillip’s bed just before dawn and he awoke more determined than ever to end the secrecy that enveloped them both.  Clandestine romances were all well and good, but he was convinced that Trent would not appreciate their deception.

Well, that and the sight of her like a glorious flower with all those pesky male bees around her…

He waited in the dining room for his host to emerge and was finally rewarded closer to the lunch hour than breakfast.  “Good morning, your lordship.”

The earl held up his hand as if to ward off cheer.  “Not so loud, dear boy.  God, what was I thinking?  After wounding myself on our little hunt with all that whiskey, why in the world would I think to stupidly sample all that punch?”

So much for catching him in a good mood to talk.

“The evening was a triumph,” Phillip said levelly, lowering his voice slightly to earn a smile from his host.

“Yours certainly was!” Trent tapped his cup and was instantly provided with a steaming cup of black coffee by one of the footmen.  “Mrs. Pratt confided that her daughter is completely in love after you honored her with a quadrille.”

  “Gracious!  As quick as that!” Phillip took a bite of eggs.  “A shame I don’t even remember the girl and I sure as hell didn’t dance a quadrille.  Perhaps she has lost her heart to Mr. Sheffield?”

“Are you not going to even ask what her dowry entails before you throw her over?”

Phillip shook his head.  “No.”

Trent shook his head.  “A sad state of affairs!  Clementine Pratt has tits the size of watermelons and a dowry to match!  Where is your enthusiasm for the hunt?”

“I am not hunting.”  Phillip put his fork down.  “When a man finds what he wants, he doesn’t keep searching.”

“A common mistake.”  Trent attacked his toast with vigor.  “Who knows what diamonds of the first water are missed once a man blinds himself to his choices?

“Your lordship,” Phillip started again.  “My devotion to—“

“Warrick.  My head hurts.  Slow and steady.”  Geoffrey held up a toast point to accent his words.  “Rome was not built in a day.”

“Of course.  And if I were building Rome…”  Phillip sighed.  “As you wish.  But I want to talk to you about Raven before the holiday is over and I will not be dissuaded.”

“Plenty of time,” Trent said with a sigh.  “Raven is special and I’m sure you’re already aware that I have placed a great deal of store by her happiness.”

“Of course.  But Raven’s happiness is something that I crave as well and would do anything to achieve.”

Trent grimaced.  “Easy to make a woman happy.  It is keeping them happy that has perplexed many a man!  But let’s leave the subject.  Raven will ultimately decide for herself.  She is young and there is time enough to debate what merits will win both her and her dowry.”

Phillip sighed with relief.  Even if he hadn’t secured the man’s blessings, he’d finally moved the topic further down the field and gotten Trent to agree to talk later.

Or at least, let’s hope that’s what he meant…

“Ah, Mr. Sheffield!  Worst dancing I have ever witnessed!” Trent proclaimed.  “What cheers you this morning?”

Mr. Sheffield wisely ignored his host’s jest. “Lord Morley and I challenged several men to a friendly game of cards and it was extremely rewarding!  I’m sorry you missed the chance, Warrick.”

“I didn’t miss the chance.  I don’t gamble, Mr. Sheffield.”

The earl rolled his eyes.  “He doesn’t gamble, Mr. Sheffield.  He doesn’t cavort.  And he certainly doesn’t notice the finest set of breasts to ever grace the British Isles.  Mr. Warrick is a fortress of morality.”

Mr. Sheffield grinned like an ape at him over his plate of sausages.  “Is that so?”

Lord Morley strolled in before Phillip could fire back.  “God, what a night!  The quiet of the country is an elusive prize and I am beginning to think our host has deliberately kept it from our reach this entire time!”

“I thought you had a rousing card game last night,” Trent countered.  “Or is it only Mr. Sheffield’s purse that gained in weight?”

“I did well enough,” Lord Morley conceded.  “Here!  Coffee, here!” he tapped on his cup soundly nearly tipping it over.

“God, Morley!  Did you injure your hand?” Trent asked.  “Your knuckles are scraped to hell.”

“Merely a rash,” Morley replied.  “Nothing as contagious as leprosy so not a concern, gentlemen.”

“Poor man!” Sheffield said.  “A hot bath in salts may see you through it.”

Morley’s brow furrowed, his lip curling.  “Salts?  In open wounds?  Thank goodness you have not applied yourself to the profession of a physician!  Your patients would run mad with your ‘tender ministrations’.”

Phillip joined in the general laughter and then excused himself as the conversation turned back toward the men’s winnings at cards.

He headed back out toward the main hall only to spot Raven heading toward a hidden door set beneath the stairs.  Something in the furtive way she lifted the latch to the door caught his attention.

“Raven.”

“Oh!” She straightened guiltily but then smiled as she approached him.  “What a…pleasant surprise to find you up and about!”  She lowered her voice and leaned forward, “And looking so refreshed after getting so little sleep.”

“I could say the same for you, Miss Wells.”  It was not empty praise.  Raven Wells’ eyes were bright and her countenance as clear as the day he’d arrived.  Hours of passion had energized her where another woman would have been drained.  He shook his head in astonished admiration.  “I didn’t think to see you before dinner.”

She blushed.  “I didn’t think to open my eyes before sunset but…perhaps it is the excitement of the dance?  The lingering after-effects of a glorious night?”

Frustration edged his awakening senses.  In another time and place, he would have happily put her over his shoulder and carried her back upstairs for another round of sensual pursuits.  But the ‘fortress of morality’ was all too aware of the constraints of the day.  “What door is this?”

She answered him as she deliberately moved away from the portal.  “One of the servant’s passages.”

“What were you doing there?” he asked.

She crossed her arms.  “Nothing that requires questioning, Mr. Warrick.  I wished a word with Mr. Walters and the housekeeper to convey my compliments on the staff’s hard work.  I didn’t want my guardian to catch me as he rarely bothers to praise anyone in his employ.   But I think it is important to—“

“Whoa!” He reached out to gently touch her arm.  “I overstepped.  It is not my place to question you, Raven.”

“No.  It is not,” she agreed with a shy smile.

“And I should have guessed your mission would have some philanthropic theme.”

“Yes.  I am practically a saint.”  The smile gave way to laughter and he risked a quick kiss on the tip of her nose before stepping back firmly.

“I did not mean to interfere.”

“Thank you, Phillip.”  She walked back to the portal and then hesitated.  “Please say nothing to the earl.”

He nodded.  “Your secret is safe with me.”

“Thank you,” she said softly, smiling at him before Raven quickly disappeared through the doorway. 

The lady vanishes and I think I will crawl upstairs and sleep while I can. 

Rome wasn’t built in a day but I have the growing feeling I’m going to need all the strength I can muster before the earl threatens to toss me to the lions.

***

She hated keeping secrets from Phillip, but her vow to Lady Morley was paramount.  Mrs. Lindstrom had sent word that Millicent had suffered another bout with her “cold”.  Raven hadn’t wished to risk being caught in her friend’s bedroom and had gone below stairs to talk to Kitty and learn more about how the lady fared.

She pulled a handful of buttons from her skirt pocket as she made her way down the narrow stairs.

“Oh, Miss Wells!” One of the footmen stepped aside, astonished to see her in the passage.

“I was looking for Miss Polk.  I found the buttons I want for my new daydress.”

His confusion was obvious.  “I can see them to her if you’d prefer, Miss Wells.”

“I would rather do it myself.  Besides, after last night, it is the least I can do to save someone the effort of climbing the stairs over a trifle.”

“You are very kind to think of it, miss.” 

She nodded and moved past him, praying that if anyone else questioned her presence, she would have an ally.

Within minutes, she found Kitty in the servant’s common room.  “Miss Polk, do you have a moment to spare?”

“Of course,” Kitty stood from the table and set her sewing aside to follow Raven into the quiet hallway.

“Is there somewhere we can talk privately?”

“This way.”  Kitty lead her through the labyrinth of the manor’s service areas of the house, past the kitchens and then up yet another narrow set of stairs to the maidservants’ rooms.  “Here.  Come in here.”

Raven took in the meager accommodations, struck by the bleak lack of color and decorations.  “Are you comfortable here, Kitty?”

Kitty tapped her foot, her hands fisted at her hips.  “Did you come all the way down here to inspect my room, Raven Wells?”

“No,” Raven said and forced herself to focus on the matter at hand.  “Lady Morley is…unwell again.”

“Mrs. Lindstrom was as pale as a sheet this morning, so I knew as much even before she told me.”

“How bad is it?”

“Bad enough but Mrs. Lindstrom said she’s seen worse.”

Raven smoothed her curls from her forehead.  “It’s a nightmare.  Did you make more salve?”

“I did, though this time he was too cunning to mar her face.  He’s hiding his handiwork to try to keep you well out of it, miss.” 

“I hate that man, Kitty.”

“Course you do.  My ma always says just make sure that if you hate someone you aren’t surprised when they hate you back.” 

“Oh, there is no doubt he returns the sentiments!”  Raven waved it off.  “I’m not afraid of him.”

Kitty refolded the quilt on her bed.  “That man is a piece of work the devil is probably sorry to claim!”

“Will she be down for dinner tonight?”

“I’ll find out.”

“Thank you, Kitty.  I don’t know what I would do without you!”

“Miss Wells?  Mind me asking where you got to last night?”

“What?”

“Well, I doubled back after I helped you unlace because I recalled I’d forgotten to pull the drapes and…you were nowhere to be found.”

“I…can’t tell you.”  Raven held out the buttons.  “Here.  Take these.  An excuse for our meeting.”

Kitty took them from her, her gaze never dropping.  “I like Mr. Warrick.  Just mind yourself.  The earl…he has no fondness for that man.”

“I know, Kitty.  I know!”  She smiled and kissed her maid’s cheek before fleeing Kitty’s well-meant words.  “I have it all in hand, Miss Polk!” 

Kitty sat down slowly on her bed, clutching the jet buttons and prayed that her Raven was right.