Authors: Patricia Hagan
He droned on, and Raven's spirits sank ever deeper to imagine an afternoon talking about making blankets. If she became too bored, she feared her mischievous streak might surface and she'd describe how to make an Indian quilt—but fashioned out of dried animal skins instead of spun cloth. That was sure to elicit a few gasps. Maybe even a few attacks of the vapors, as she had learned it was called when someone fell unconscious.
"What are you going to hunt?" she asked abruptly in the midst of his praises over Maudina's sewing skills.
"Deer. Rabbit." They were almost to the house, and he slowed to see a carriage coming up the drive. "That's probably the Doerter family. They're always the first to arrive and the last to leave."
"Then we'd better hurry. I'm afraid I lost track of time."
He reached out and took her hand. "You've got plenty of time, because everyone will expect you to appear last and make a grand entrance. Besides, we need a chance to talk in private about us." He wanted to settle things between them now, so he could spread the word they had an understanding, lest the unmarried men among the guests have notions of their own.
"Us?" she echoed uneasily and pulled her hand back.
"You mean you haven't noticed what I've come to feel for you?" He laughed softly. "Perhaps I'm a better actor than I thought. Even Harold"—Harold was his manservant—"has noticed and teased me about it," he lied.
She prayed he didn't mean what she feared he did and pretended to think otherwise. "Of course. We've become friends, and I'm glad. I
want
to be your friend, Julius, and Lisbeth's too. I want us to live here together in peace and be happy, like a family should be. We can all share Halcyon, and—"
"And you and I can share a life together," he interjected quickly, as he kneed his horse closer to hers. "The fact is, I want to court you, Raven. Under normal circumstances, it wouldn't be proper while we're in mourning, but I'm sure everyone will understand our wanting to be married as soon as possible, circumstances being what they are. Besides, people around here would never dare criticize anything a Ralston does—only you won't be a Ralston once you marry me. You'll be Mrs. Julius Alexander White. Doesn't that have a nice sound to it?"
He grabbed her hand again and pressed it to his lips. "I can make the announcement tonight, if you like."
Again she withdrew her hand. She did not want to hurt his feelings but was not about to let him think she was even remotely interested. "No. I wouldn't like that at all. I'm sorry, Julius, but I can't accept your proposal."
He struggled to remain composed. He had expected her to be flattered, as any young woman in her right mind would be. It was no secret that the father of every unmarried girl in the county, maybe even the whole state, wanted nothing better than to see his daughter marry him. Added to that, Raven should be well aware she needed a husband now, more than ever. But he was not about to give up. "You don't mean that. You're just surprised, that's all. I can understand why, because no doubt you thought I'd resent your showing up here when I never even knew you existed, but I don't. I want to marry you, Raven, and once you get used to the idea, you'll see it's the only answer."
"To what?" she asked innocently.
"Why, to your situation, of course. You need a man to help you run this place."
"Everything seems to be going smoothly. The overseers do their jobs. I know it will take awhile for me to come even close to being as efficient as I'd like to be, and I'll probably make a few mistakes along the way, but if everyone will be patient, I'll succeed. I really don't need a man to help me."
"Then you need one for something else," he said tightly, because he was losing his patience. He hadn't expected her to argue, for heaven's sake. "You need a husband... children."
"But I don't love you," she pointed out.
"You'll learn to. Besides, people get married for other reasons besides love."
"They shouldn't. Marriage is for people who love each other and become one, sharing their spirits."
"That sounds like some Indian belief," he said with a snort. "You can't think like that anymore. You're in a white man's world now, Raven, and you have to forget the Indian part of you."
"That has nothing do with it. It's something I learned about horses...." She was silent. He would not understand. She had explained her philosophy to Steve but was not certain even he had grasped her meaning. Perhaps she should keep it to herself in the future. "Never mind. But while I'm flattered you want to marry me, the truth is, I don't intend to ever marry anybody. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I really should start getting ready." And with a snap of the reins, she set Starfire into a gallop toward the house.
"Yes, you do that," Julius called after her angrily.
He reached for the flask of whiskey he always kept in his saddlebag and took a long, deep swallow as he watched her ride away. Then, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his mouth curved in a wicked grin.
She was wrong. She did need a man.
And he was just the one to show her why.
* * *
Lisbeth's eyes sparkled as she described to Julius how she had laid a bright red satin gown on Raven's bed. "She'll think I did it because I think it's what she should wear tonight. Then, when she realizes how she's made a spectacle of herself in such a garish color when the house is in mourning, I'll blame it on one of the servants. She won't have sense enough to know that even
they
would know better."
"I don't think she's that naive." Julius tossed down another drink.
"Of course she is. How could she know of propriety and social mores? She's nothing but a savage."
"That's not fair. I think she's really tried to be ladylike. I also think she's tried hard to take over for Ned. You know she does read and write. She's
educated,
Lisbeth, in case you haven't bothered to notice.
"And what's more," he reminded her testily, "she hasn't told us to leave. Mr. Deyermond says she has the right to do that, because there were no provisions in the will for us to keep on living here if she doesn't want us to, and it's bad enough that I'm going to have to labor like a common dockworker for the next eight years for meager wages without being forced out of here permanently, so he suggested that we both do our best to get along with her, which you don't seem to be doing."
He was out of breath when he finished, and Lisbeth drew hers sharply before exploding. "Are you actually suggesting that I do her bidding like a slave? You're such a fool, Julius, and so am I for believing you had any kind of plan at all for getting rid of her."
He took another long swallow of whiskey and braced himself for the outburst sure to come when it dawned on her what he had in mind. "Why do we have to get rid of her?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"There are other ways to ensure I control Halcyon—that
we
control Halcyon," he was quick to add.
Lisbeth narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Tell me you aren't thinking about marrying her. Oh, I've seen how you look at her sometimes when you think nobody's watching, but I thought it was merely curiosity over being around someone so different from us. Surely you wouldn't consider something so absurd."
He smiled over the rim of his glass. "Well, you have to agree it would solve all our problems."
"You
are
considering it. Oh, dear God." Feeling as though she were about to faint, she sank to the nearest chair, pulled her lace hankie from the cuff of her sleeve and began to fan herself frantically. "Mother would turn over in her grave. You can't mean this, you just can't. There has to be another way."
"Well, I'm afraid there isn't. I've thought it over carefully and come to the conclusion that it would be extremely difficult, if not completely impossible, to drive her away now. She's no fool. She's had a taste of wealth and luxury and naturally prefers it to her past life of destitution. And knowing you as I do, I think I'm justified to worry that sooner or later you'll do something to really make her mad, and then a life of destitution will be
our
future. I can't bear the thought, so I'm not going to risk your causing it to happen. And best of all"—he paused to drain his glass—"once I marry her, I won't have to honor that stupid stipulation about working at the shipyard till I'm thirty."
"But think of the scandal," she argued in desperation. "Remember, she was alone with Steve Maddox all those nights when they were traveling back here, just the two of them."
"What are you getting at?" he prodded edgily.
"They had no chaperone. Don't you see? And Steve is a man, and he certainly can't be blamed if something happened between them. After all, you can't expect Raven to have any morals, raised as she was." She was not about to divulge how she had gone to the stable to try and catch them together the night Raven was actually delivering Belle's colt. He would say that proved her suspicions were wrong, but she was still not convinced.
Julius pursed his lips. He didn't like imagining Raven in bed with Steve or any other man, but he was not about to let that stand in his way. "You don't know anything about how she was raised. I haven't seen any evidence of anything between them, and I don't care about the past."
"You're making a mistake. I can only hope you realize it before it's too late."
"I'm doing what's best for both of us. You'll thank me one day." As she started to leave, he warned, "Don't you dare try to sabotage my plan, do you understand?"
Seething, Lisbeth managed to nod her head.
"Good. Now go make sure she hasn't put that red gown on, and if she has, you tell her it was a mistake."
Lisbeth hurried on her way but did not do as he asked. If Raven wore the gown, so be it. Maybe if Julius saw people laughing at her, he would realize that if he married her they would eventually laugh at him instead.
If not, then her work was cut out for her, because there was no way she would let him carry out his asinine scheme.
Chapter 19
Raven stood before the gilt-edged mirror that covered one wall of her dressing alcove. She had looked a long time at the red satin gown she had found draped across her bed before deciding not to wear it. If Lisbeth had picked it out for her, it had to be a sign she was warming to her and trying to be friends and did not want to hurt her feelings. But the truth was, Raven despised red. Warriors used it as part of their warpaint, so, to her, the color meant conflict, something she was desperately striving to avoid with both Lisbeth
and
Julius. She would never have asked for anything red in her wardrobe, but the dress had been in Madame Bonet's first delivery.
So now she stared at her reflection and hoped Lisbeth would like what she had chosen to wear instead: a soft peach overlaid with white Brussels lace trimmed with satin ribbon and silk flowers. But the décolletage was designed a bit lower than she preferred, so she had draped a lace shawl about her shoulders and across her bosom.
Raven thought she looked nice. Mariah had set her hair in ringlets with a heated curling rod, then pulled them up with a matching ribbon of peach silk.
She tried not to think how miserable she was in the tight corset Mariah had insisted she wear. "It don't matter if you have got a waist no bigger than my hand. Young ladies have to wear proper underthings," she had said, and now Raven was afraid that if she took a deep breath and let it out, the laces would pop.
Mariah had been standing to the side watching and now clapped her hands in delighted approval. "I swear, you are the prettiest woman who's ever lived in this house, Miss Raven. And if you don't believe me, you just go downstairs and look at them portraits in the hall and see for yourself how not a one of them even comes close to being as fine-looking as you."
Raven flushed to wonder whether Steve would think the same but told herself it didn't matter, all the while knowing that it did—very much, indeed.
Finally, it was time for her to make her entrance. She went to the top of the stairs and gazed down on the people gathered below. At the sight of her, gasps went up in unison, for, like Mariah, their reaction was that she was truly the most gorgeous woman ever to grace Halcyon.
Her hand trembled as she held the mahogany railing. She prayed she would not stumble and fall, because she was not used to the high-top leather shoes and missed the comfort of moccasins.