“Of me or the tub, Your Grace?” Her eyes engaged his. “However, that will not be necessary. I have determined it would fit two consensual persons.”
She bestowed him with a sunny smile, walked toward her aunt and brother, and fanned herself. Visions of her against him in the tub, her back to his chest, danced in his head, the warm sultry water that poured down on them would not douse their ardor. He would wager she envisioned the same images he did and surmised he could be right when he observed Samantha flutter her fan a little harder to cool herself. Yes, he fisted his hands to control the urge he had to rush to her, take her upstairs, and soak her in the very tub where he would join her in wicked delight.
Randall came to announce the dinner service. All the guests entered the dining room and sat at the elegant classic table. To the duke’s right, Lady Samantha was seated. While he conversed with everyone, in a small whisper to Samantha, he said, “I do believe you are correct in your assessment that two can fit in that tub.” He saw her blush at his flirtation and relished her modest discomfort.
He enjoyed the opportunity to spend time with the woman who had caught his attention and so much wanted to be alone with her as a man—her man.
The music played by the trio soothed and convivial conversations abounded until the meal concluded. After dinner, the gentlemen retreated to the library for drinks, and the women ambled to the drawing room.
****
Samantha sat near the two dowagers who occupied a small divan. She held a book of poetry in her hands, but clearly, her attention was woolgathering elsewhere, conscious of the amiable chatter of the two dowagers sharing tidbits from the past about their late husbands, their children, and the current social activities. Bored with the book, Samantha arose and walked around the room to study the art and furniture.
“Minerva, a question I would ask of you?” Lady Margaret placed her teacup on a table.
“Your niece, Lady Samantha, is quite a beauty. Is there no one to whom she is attached?”
Minerva handed her teacup for a refill and commented her niece didn’t have any attachments. “She received some marriage offers but has refused them all. She is involved in the establishment of her charity.” Lady Minerva explained all about the Winston Foundation for Ladies.
“Quite admirable,” Lady Margaret said, “but most unusual.”
“I assure you, Margaret, where Samantha is concerned, everything is unusual.”
“Lady Margaret, my aunt is anxious to marry me off to some unfortunate man. I’m much too headstrong for I enjoy my independence. Besides, she brings joy to my life in all she does.”
Samantha motioned to the portrait above the mantel. “I believe that is the late duchess? The artist seems to have caught her vibrancy, yet there is an ephemeral look about her.”
“Raven loved her more than anyone can know. They married in Italy at the Italian court. He didn’t wish to wait for his return to England to have a large family wedding, although a reception followed afterward here. She delighted and loved him so much. When she died, it appeared the world came to an end for him.” She proceeded to tell the story of the woman’s death. “I believe he mourns her still in his heart.”
At the mention of his name, Samantha came to full attention and studied the portrait over the mantel.
Lady Margaret spoke of the funeral as a tragic and sad event in their family. “Everyone wore white with black armbands. My nephew provided his staff with mourning garments of white, and they grieved for a year also. As you know, that is the de rigueur for a woman who dies in childbirth. My nephew is a strong man, but I don’t know how he got through the day of burial. As he laid the black beribboned white calla lilies on the caskets, I saw him unsteady at the final sight of the two white coffins, one larger and one much smaller.” Lady Margaret added, “It made the angels cry.”
She recounted those days. Lady Margaret added that with the advent of time, he immersed himself into his business and political affairs, and managed to move on with his life.
“You liked her?” Minerva inquired and sipped her cinnamon tea.
“Yes, Liana’s manner invited friendship, and was open to love in return.”
Samantha continued to listen from a distance. She could not help admire Raven’s personal strength to endure such a tragedy.
Minerva commented the portrait was a powerful reminder.
“Yes, I know. I have told my nephew he should remove it to the gallery where all our forbearers are, but Raven has refused to do so. When I see it removed, I will know he has come to terms with her loss ten years ago. Until then, Minerva, I can hope. Life is for those of us who live and are left behind.” Her smile saddened.
Lady Minerva nodded her head in agreement. “I’m fond of my niece. She is a high-spirited, intelligent person and can be hurt. Somehow I think, Lady Margaret, Raven has not quite moved on with his life. He has not yet let go of the past, it seems.”
“You are right, but maybe things will change. I’m fond of my nephew, also.” Lady Margaret deftly changed the subject.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Raven summoned his estate manager and his majordomo, the two men he entrusted with his life. They’d be tested in great measure over the next few days and weeks. He explained the details of the group of investors who embarked on a new venture, which would benefit them and England.
“As Englishmen, I ask for your help. You may refuse if you wish. I can tell you about the importance of what we can do.” He flattered them, but made no demands and gave them a general verbal outline of the cartel’s goals.
With a somber look, he described the possible perils. With his hands steepled, he said in a low, hoarse voice, “I do believe my life is in danger.” He noted the men listened in stunned silence and paid strict attention.
Seigfreid asked, “But how can we help and protect you, Your Grace? With so many strangers about the estate, it will be a monumental task.”
“You will have a list of the guests. Prince Nicholas has brought his staff. So at least, we know we can rule out our people. Seigfreid, if you have to, hire townsmen you know and trust to keep a cool eye on all the events. Report any suspicious activity to me and me alone.”
He placed his right hand under his chin in thought. “Randall, I trust you to manage the household staff. While I don’t wish to put fear in your heart, keep a watch for the possibility of poison.” He heard a gasp, yet continued. “Don’t allow anyone new into the household. If you have already hired outside help, and by that I mean, outside our estate, make up some excuse, pay them off and have them gone. Take Cook Phoebe into your confidence, but try not to panic her. She is a bright woman and knows the kitchen staff well, but frightens easily.”
Raven reached across his desk to retrieve paperwork. “I don’t want my guests to be fearful so no word of this will be divulged outside of our inner circle. This is imperative. Also, know you both will be well rewarded. However, you may refuse this assignment, and there will be no retribution. You have my word on this.”
Randall asked if Raven knew of anyone specific who would want to harm him and his cause. He placed his fingers to the right side of his temple and rubbed in circles, pondering how to answer but then said, “There are many men in high places who would want to see me dead with England bent over in capitulation to stronger international forces. I can’t let that happen. I love my country too much.”
He wondered if he should continue since it might cause them more consternation than necessary. The stakes were high, but he decided they needed to know the truth and the hazards. The better informed they became, the more alert everyone would be.
“All these years you have known me as an honorable man. Diligence is what is needed and a mind open to inquiry. No question will go unanswered. Both of you would be excellent in this regard. Trust those whom you have known over the years. This plot to remove me from this earth has been in the cauldron for quite some time. I fear that spies are in the village. At times in London, I
surmised someone following me.”
Parched from speaking, he poured water into a glass. “Our country is in the midst of rapid changes and there are those of the old nobility who have determined my advanced ways cause discontent among tenant farmers of their estates. To share profits is not every land owner’s goal, but I want my estate to set the standard for which all others will want to identify.” He paused again, retrieved his monocle and found a file on his desk.
“In particular, take care to note the movements of the Lady Samantha. I would not want her injured because of any involvement with me. She is never to be alone unless, of course, I’m in her company. This is critical.”
They went on to speak about the use of the stable grooms, footmen, and the house servants. Seigfreid suggested, “Perhaps we can use some of the villagers who could dress as hunters, where it would be natural to carry shotguns. With the vast grounds, the more eyes, the better,” he posed.
Raven nodded approval. “That is an excellent idea. Implement the plan at once.” His forehead creased in concern. “In fact, confine your trust to the Larsen’s, Elliott’s and Flanders’. Between them, they know many people and would spot strangers to report back to you.”
They even devised a sentence which, when used, would let him know of the need to meet or that a danger presented itself. The sentence was Your Grace, a message from the Prime Minister.
Intrigued with the information they learned. Seigfreid spoke first, “We are privileged, Your Grace, that you share your concerns.”
Randall cleared his throat and added, “It’s unheard of in service for you to employ such confidence in us. It’s also an awesome responsibility. I believe I speak for both of us when I vow we will not let you down even if our lives depended on it.”
“Let us hope none of us are in jeopardy. My thanks to you,” Raven’s voice cracked with sentiment.
He proceeded with other instructions to them. “These are letters to the international investors. I have advised them of the circumstances, and the need for caution. These other letters are to be delivered to the person at the Israelite bank and investment firm of Rothschild in London, for transmission to the associates in the cartel,” he instructed. “Also, assign a household staff person or persons to become our eyes and ears for all that goes on, inside and out of the house.” He handed the letters to Randall in a neat package. “Just let me know whom you assign to a task so I’m not suspicious of the wrong individuals.”
Raven rose from his mahogany chair and clasped his hands behind his back. “As much as possible, let’s see if we can get through this week unscathed.” With a heavy heart and somewhat weary, he warned, “Above all, trust no one you don’t know. I can’t stress this enough.” He added, “There is a gentleman by the name of Lord Dudley. He might take it upon himself to visit the village and may not come in gentleman’s clothes, but be aware of anyone who asks a lot of questions. He is tall and thin, with a black goatee and the disposition of an alley cat.” After a few moments, he said, “There is also a Lord Hastings who is a known anarchist. Have someone assigned to the pubs to keep an eye out for him. I believe he has reddish brown hair.”
“What if they do nose around, Your Grace?” asked Seigfreid.
“Have them arrested on some pretense. Dudley is a known rake and libertine. Attempted rape comes to mind,” Raven stated. “Since I’m the Chief Magistrate of this district, he will have to come before me. He knows I’m familiar with him.” He gave them a wry grin.
“Concerning Hastings, he does not dirty his hands but inspires others to do his deeds. There is also a Sir Henry Preston, head of the competitive gas light company, who is suspect, but I doubt he would dare show his face here after what transpired here ten years ago. He was a physician then.” Almost in an afterthought, he added, “Make sure the small prison is made livable. That ought to keep the rogues out of sorts for a few days.”
For a moment, both men’s eyes glistened. “Perhaps we can seek the help of Malford and his daughters?” asked Seigfreid.
Raven remembered them. “Ah, yes. They are pretty young things who like to flirt.”
“True, Your Grace, but there is no scandal attached to them. They keep their skirts down if I may be so bold to say.” Randall nodded to the estate manager.
“Malford, as a jailer, could make a man’s life miserable,” Seigfreid said. “His six foot five-inch frame and over two hundred fifty pounds of pure muscle power can intimidate. He is also much in your debt, Your Grace.”
“When Malford’s wife took ill,” Randall said, “you allowed him to live rent-free until she recovered. Malford’s family ate well all those months, thanks to your largess.”
As a last thought, Raven said, “Seigfreid, I will have a letter prepared for you to have delivered tomorrow. The envelope will contain my last will. You know the name of my barrister in London. If anything happens, contact him at once. The two of you will be gifted with an annual retainer for the rest of your lives as long as you live here.”
He engaged their eyes with his own in their evident shock. Many landowners didn’t provide such benefits.
“In the event I don’t make myself clear, I thank you for your years of service. Your loyalty is treasured.”
He didn’t want sentimentality to overwhelm them, but it became akin to being present at his funeral arrangements. “My brother, Cedric, is my heir and the next future duke, serve him well.” His tone became more than somber as they watched his eyes scan the room.
“Your Grace, do you feel your life is in that much peril?” asked Seigfreid.
“Yes,” he answered. “While I don’t want or plan to die, there is so much we all can do for England. What matters is that the failure of this cartel will hurt our country in ways you can’t imagine. I trust you both with important political information, and I do this because I know your hearts. I know your love for England.”
“I’m fearful, my lord. Not for me, but for you.” Seigfreid spoke in a whisper with downcast eyes.
Randall nodded in agreement.
Raven thought he saw tears well up as they left his study in absolute silence. He heard their comments in the corridor as they left.
Randall whispered to his companion, “I’m resolved to keep him alive.”
Seigfreid said. “If this Lady Samantha is important to him, I’ll protect her too. He deserves happiness, however, measured it may be, with all this turmoil about us.”
Randall spoke, “I find myself on the lookout for shadows in the corners of these corridors. We will need inside guards clothed as servants.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
The Next Day
Raven observed the goings on of his household. A flurry of servants scattered to accommodate the arrival of the Prince’s entourage. Heralds blew their flagged trumpets. The large royal coach, encrusted with the seal of the House of the Romanovs served to impress. Attendants lined up to receive him. Prince Nicholas looked much the royal when he stepped from the coach. Born to the role, so to speak, he acted it, well dressed in the uniform of the Russian Jagers, splendiferous in all his medals and gold braid. Prince Nicholas’ regiment was not only an elite company but proclaimed throughout the military world.
Raven on cue appeared and waited for his friend to ascend the steps. When Prince Nicholas peered at his friend, a broad smile flashed across his dark, ruggedly handsome face.
“Raven, da, Yes. Is good to see you again. Has been a long time, nyet? No? Forgive me; it’s easy to lapse into my beloved Russian phrases.”
“It only adds to your accomplishment. Yes, we’ve not seem you in a while.” The duke shook hands in warmth with his long-time comrade. Servants unpacked the trunks from the second and third coaches and transported them to a separate suite, which the Prince occupied when he visited.
Raven looked beyond the Royal in search of Nicholas’s mistress, but he appeared to be alone.
The Prince stated, “She is not with me.”
Without a pause, Rav
en said, “That is regretful and my loss. I looked forward to a visit by the Countess Ivana. Your usual suite is ready for you.” With a grand smile, he added, “There is much we have to talk about, but perhaps your long journey has tired you? We have some guests. Would you prefer to be introduced later?”
While Raven spoke, Prince Nicholas peered into the drawing room at the young and pretty ladies. He touched his dark mustache and said, “I’m never too tired to meet beautiful women. You may proceed.” He followed his host into the room with his imperial worth and impressive stature.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, may I introduce Prince Nicholas Alexi Romanov, the Second.” He paused in order to gain everyone’s attention. First, my aunt, Lady Margaret, whom you will remember, I’m sure.”
“How could I ever forget such a distinguished lady?” Prince Nicholas kissed her hand and bowed.
She nodded. “Welcome, Highness.”
“Lady Minerva Harrington.” Samantha’s aunt also curtsied. He took her hand, kissed it and gave her a polite but warm smile.
“Lady Samantha Winston, Lady Minerva’s niece.” Prince Nicholas nodded to her and held her hand a bit longer than considered appropriate.
“Enchanted, dear lady. Do you ride?” Prince Nicholas asked and arched his eyebrows in obvious assessment of her.
A little taken back, Samantha replied, “A horse? Yes, I do. Did you have something in mind, Your Highness?” She offered a coy smile and retrieved her hand from his strong grasp and stepped back—a warning to him.
“Why, yes. As I recall, the stables here are excellent. It’s always an invigoration. Tomorrow morning?”
She answered, “Perhaps, with His Grace’s permission.”
Prince Nicholas then met the Countess of Ballantyne and her daughter, Lady Sue Ellen and lavished his royal smile on them exposing glistening white teeth. “Of course, my dear ladies, you are also invited to ride. Raven’s horses are of the finest quality, second only to mine.”
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