Spellbound (9 page)

He entered without
knocking, disturbing her at her bath. He did not let that stop him.
She didn’t possess anything he hadn’t already seen,
anyway.

“Just what the devil are
you doing?” he snapped from less than two feet away.

Raven jumped but had to
admit she wasn’t really surprised. Adam could be the most tenacious
person she knew when he had a bee in his bonnet about something.
And her “marriage” to a duke was definitely a bee.

“Please sit, Adam,” she
offered dryly, waving carelessly towards the bed. “As you can
plainly see, I’m bathing. Had you knocked first, as a gentleman
ought, I could have informed you.”

He waved that away and took
up her invitation of a seat. “You’re avoiding the blistering
setdown I mean to give you. Which you rightly deserve, you foolish
wench. What were you thinking to actually marry him?”

She sighed heavily. “I
didn’t, Adam. Not really.”

He looked startled. “What
do you mean, you didn’t?”

“Just that. I signed the
license as Lady Rachael. I didn’t actually marry him.”

He sat for two solid
minutes, completely dumbfounded. “How could you do something so
utterly stupid?” he finally uttered. He seemed almost defeated,
something which Raven noted with some misgivings.

“It’s not so stupid. I can
walk away whenever I want, Adam.”

He shook his head. “No, you
can’t, Raven. Windhaven owns you now just as surely had you
actually married him. In fact, he has more control over your life
than he ever did before.”

Suppressing the shiver his
words caused, she scoffed, “Nonsense! He assured me I can walk away
when this is all over.”

Adam continued to stare at
her incredulously. “And just when is this all over, Raven? When he
says so? The fellow’s barmy and that’s a fact. To have even
proposed this escapade was insane and now he’s proven he’s not
right in the upper works. And for you to have entered into it all
so fully proves you are attics to let, too.” He stood to leave. “I
wish I could help you, Raven, and I promise I will do what I can
when the time comes, but I have no good feeling about
this.”

Raven watched him leave,
chilled by his words. He sounded as though she were facing her
execution. But that was ridiculous. Windhaven would never let her
die.

Would he?

At that moment, her door
crashed open and Adam came hurtling back in. The duke stood in the
open door, looking ready to burst.

Windhaven left his room
just as Adam entered Raven’s. He felt the now familiar surge of
jealousy at the mere sight of his wife’s former lover and turned
resolutely in the opposite direction.

Then he stopped. And
turned. And stared. What was Prestwich doing in Raven’s
room?

Determined to get to the
bottom of this newest mystery, the duke stood outside Raven’s door,
listening unabashedly to the hushed conversation taking place
within. He couldn’t hear much, damn the thick oak doors. At one
point he heard splashing, so he assumed Raven was bathing. Had
Prestwich joined her? The mere thought nearly sent him crashing
through the door. To think he had to pander to a guest who used to
share his wife’s bed when her own husband had yet to see her naked
made Windhaven see red.

It was at this unfortunate
point that Adam left the room. He managed to close the door before
Tristan grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and threw him
against the opposite wall.

“Why were you in my wife’s
chamber?”

When he left Raven’s room,
Adam had been saddened by her new and very serious predicament,
more so because of her apparent ignorance of her own problem. Now
he was incensed.

He laughed in the duke’s
face as he angrily brushed away the larger man’s hold. “None of
your business, you miserable whoreson.”

Tristan was taken aback by
Adam’s apparent anger. What had he to be angry about? He had a
beautiful wife and mistress and apparently everything he’d ever
wanted. It was enough to make a man seriously consider
murder.

“She’s not yours anymore,
Prestwich. She’s mine. Consider carefully if you think she’s worth
dying for.”

Adam laughed again. Tristan
felt a chill in the somewhat maniacal edge he heard in the other
man’s laughter.

“You risk her life with
your silly charade and dare to ask me if I would die for her?
You’re the damned bastard whose going to get her hanged. But at
least your family will stop hounding you about
marrying.”

Adam crashed back through
Raven’s door before the final word had even left his mouth. He lay
sprawled on the floor for all of two seconds before launching
himself back at the furious duke.

Neither noticed the
astonished Raven. She watched them try to beat each other to a pulp
and was amazed that it was apparently over her. It might have
actually been diverting had they not appeared to be serious in
their goal of murder.

Rising with the utmost
grace, Raven swept up an extra bucket of water as she moved closer
to the feuding pair. One second later, they broke apart, sputtering
and shaking water from their faces.

Raven stood, dripping and
naked, gazing at them both with a blank expression. “If you
gentlemen are quite finished, I would appreciate it if you left me
to bathe in peace.” She tossed the emptied bucket at them. “And be
kind enough to see this refilled, if you please.” And so saying,
she turned and slipped gracefully back into the tepid water,
looking at neither gentleman as she did so.

As the door closed softly
behind her, Raven released the sob she’d held in check. And once
released, one sob became many.

He heard her. They both
did. Adam glared hard at the duke, drew back, and punched him
square in the solar plexus. Windhaven bent over, gasping for
breath.

“For making her
cry.”

The baronet walked away,
anger emanating from every pore. Tristan slumped against the wall,
sliding down until he sat on the floor. His anger had fizzled the
second he had seen Raven standing there, magnificent in her
nakedness, seething with anger but appearing as calm as if she were
used to entertaining brawling gentlemen in her
bedchamber.

He had been amazed at her
composure. And now, he felt like the brute he undoubtedly was for
making her cry.

And he’d been wrong. Oh, so
wrong about her and Prestwich. He could tell from Adam’s demeanor
that Raven did not affect him in the least anymore. In fact, he
seemed not to even see her as a woman, let alone one he’d made love
to too many times to count.

Oh, to be the man to
possess such beauty. She was more beautiful than he’d ever
imagined. Her skin was flawless, perfect with a subtle
Mediterranean olive cast. Her features were exotically cast with
dark, slanted eyes and deep red lips. And her body…

Dear God, how Tristan
wished he were actually able to call her his. The woman was a
goddess. His desire to go back in there and make passionate love to
her was so great he actually started to rise from his slumped
position.

Then he heard a
particularly bitter sob and thought his heart might break. What,
exactly, had he done that so upset her?

Unfortunately, Greyden
chose that moment to go to his own room to dress for dinner. He saw
his brother and stopped abruptly. With one brow raised, he
sauntered over.

“Evicted already, brother?
Whatever have you done to offend the pretty actress?”

Tristan glared at his
younger sibling. “I have told you she is not what you think, Grey.
Why do you insist in believing otherwise?”

The younger man smirked. “I
but suspected before, Tris. Now, I know.”

The duke just stared at
him, his face blank. His silence was question enough.

“You called her Raven.
Freya overheard a certain conversation a few weeks ago and informed
me, as she was worried something not quite right was in progress
beneath our very noses.”

Tristan grunted
noncommittally. “And you believe the ramblings of a spoiled child
bent on mischief?”

His reaction brought
Greyden up short…momentarily. “Nonsense. I know what I know. And I
just thought to let you know that your secret is safe with me. We
are brothers, after all. And if one cannot trust one’s own
brother…”

He left it at that, and
left Tristan in peace, for the moment. The duke knew his brother
well enough to know he’d probably have demands later. He just
wondered if he’d be able to meet them.

Two days later found Raven
exploring the frozen lake. It was so beautiful, pristine and
sparkling. She was tempted to find a pair of skates and make use of
her free time and the fine weather.

Adam and Bri were still
visiting. There was a sort of tentative truce between Tristan and
Adam but the tension was still palpable entity whenever they were
in the same room. Raven almost wished the men would simply kill
each other and leave the rest of them in peace.

Feeling the cold finally
penetrate her wool cloak, Raven decided it was time to return to
the manor. She entered a side door and made immediately for her
room. She was in no mood to see any of the family. Greyden had been
more offensive than usual and Freya was just as unpleasant as
always. In the girl’s manner, however, was an underlying note of
contempt that Raven had trouble coping with. She avoided the girl
as much as possible.

Her desire for solitude
went unheeded. No sooner had she reached her chamber door than Lord
Greyden accosted her. In no mood for his insinuations, she tried to
get inside her room before he could actually stop her.

It was not to be. Her hand
was on the door handle when he took her other arm in a firm grip.
He brought her around to face him, a leering smile on his handsome
face.

“Where have you been,
little Swan?” he asked. “Meeting with your paramour? I admit I am
surprised you have the audacity to take a lover beneath my
brother’s very nose.”

Raven was startled to hear
the way he addressed her. He seemed very sure of her identity. It
would only a matter of time then before he started making
demands.

Steeling herself against
the desire to strike out at him verbally and physically, she
replied steadily, “I don’t know what you’re talking
about.”

He laughed. Something in
his laughter made her shiver despite herself.

“Do you not? I find that
curious. You seem fairly intelligent after all and I was reasonably
blunt, I’m sure. What part was beyond your
comprehension?”

“The part where you
insinuated Sir Adam is my lover. We are acquaintances, nothing
more. His wife happens to be my dearest friend.”

Thankfully, Bri chose that
moment to enter the hall. As if sensing something was amiss, she
moved toward them with a smile pasted firmly on her beautiful
face.

“Have you just come in, my
dear?” she asked solicitously. “You must be nearly frozen. And here
you stand in this drafty hall. Come, let me help you.” With a
painfully sweet smile for the young lord, she steered Raven into
the chamber, firmly closing the door behind her.

“And what, may I ask, was
that young puppy up to?” she asked, helping Raven remove her heavy
cloak.

“The usual. Threats,
insinuations, impertinence. What else?” With somewhat jerky
movements, a circumstance quite unlike her, Raven moved to the fire
and stretched out her fingers to the pleasant warmth. She felt
chilled to the bone and she knew it had nothing to do with staying
out of doors too long.

“I’m not sure I can do this
anymore,” she murmured half to herself. “Everyday, Lord Greyden
becomes more bold, Lady Freya becomes more insulting, and
Tristan…dear God, how can any woman be around that man and not—”
She broke off abruptly, staring morosely into the dancing
flames.

“Kill him?” Bri offered
helpfully.

Raven had to smile at that.
Bri’s near-hatred for men was legendary. There were few she
actually called friends and even fewer she actually trusted. It was
no surprise to Raven that Tristan fell into neither
category.

“That wasn’t exactly what I
was going to say but I dare say it’s close enough.”

Bri moved forward and
wrapped her arms around her friend. “I know what you meant, my
dear. I’m sorry you have landed in this predicament. When did you
realize you’re in love with him?”

Raven’s body jerked at the
words. Bri sighed softly. “Oh, my poor dear friend. You didn’t
realize, did you? I’m so sorry.” Her voice was gentle and soothing.
Raven couldn’t stop a tear from falling dejectedly. “But it’s no
use. He’s a duke and you’re…”

At that, Raven moved out of
her friend’s embrace. “I have dreams sometimes, you know,” she
said, almost conversationally, turning away from her friend.
“Sometimes I dream that I really am this Lady Rachael and Tristan
is madly in love with me and my future is bright. Then I wake to
the reality of my situation. Far from being courted by a rich and
handsome duke, I’m courting a hangman’s noose.”