by Phoebe Conn
“He led the horse up and down the docks and then offered to take me home so my mother could see me ride.” Raven paused for a moment, but he had rehearsed the story so often while he had been away, he could have finished it in his sleep. He kept his glance focused on the baby, though, rather than Eden.
“I told him that I didn’t have a mother and he asked with whom I lived. I said I swept out The Blue Parrot tavern and that the owner let me sleep in the back. Alex didn’t say anything until I got to that part. Then he told me he needed a cabin boy, and if I’d rather go to sea than sweep out taverns, he would be happy to hire me for the job. Of course I said I’d do it. He helped me off the horse then and we shook hands on the deal.
“He asked my name, and I said I didn’t have one and that he could call me whatever he liked the way everybody else did. He just laughed at that and told me he would give it some thought. The next day he bought me the first new clothes I’d ever owned and two days later we sailed for England. By the time we got there, Alex had decided to call me Raven Blade simply because he liked the sound of it.
“When he asked if I’d like to be his nephew, I thought it was a fine idea. So the first time I went to Briarcliff, that was the way I was introduced. When we returned home to Jamaica, everyone assumed I was a nephew who had been orphaned in England. Your father was the first person to ask me how a man with no brothers or sisters can have a nephew, but I didn’t explain.
“Alex thought it was a harmless ruse, one that benefitted us both when Eleanora died without giving him a son. When he died without telling you the truth, I didn’t dare reveal it either. I was so proud of the fact everyone mistook me for Alex’s kin that I didn’t want you to know I was just someone he’d picked up off the street.
“I wish I’d had the sense to be honest with you from the start because it hurt to have you constantly questioning my motives, when all I ever wanted was to win your love.”
Tears were now sliding down his face and Eden had to wipe away her own before she spoke. That he had once been a child without even a name to call his own explained so much about him. It was no wonder he grabbed for whatever he wanted the instant it came within his reach.
“Why did you marry me?” she asked softly.
Raven had not realized he was crying until his tears fell on the baby’s blanket. Horribly embarrassed, he pulled out his handkerchief and hurriedly dried his face. “Alex took me to London so I could find a wife. You were the only woman I wanted, but he had seen you first. I didn’t care what wild scheme had brought you to my bed. Once we’d slept together, I had a reason to force you to marry me and I did. It wasn’t to cheat your child out of a title. I’d never dreamed you would have a baby with Alex. It was simply you that I wanted.”
Eden was not even tempted to admit she had imagined him to be Alex the first few times they had been together and chose to talk about him instead. “Why do you think everyone has always believed that you’re Alex’s nephew?”
“You know what Alex was like. He was so charming he could have said day was night and everyone would have agreed with him.”
“No, that’s not it at all,” Eden argued. “I know you don’t like to look at yourself in the mirror but you really ought to study your reflection someday soon. I’m certain your parents loved you dearly, and I’d be willing to wager they had titles too.”
“No, you’re trying to be kind, but you’re wrong. My mother must have been a whore and I doubt she could have told you my father’s name. Either she died, or just found me in the way and left me, but I’ve always believed I was better off not knowing anything about her.”
“No,” Eden insisted stubbornly. “I think you’re probably the son of some wealthy Spanish couple whose ship was lost on a voyage to the Caribbean. You might have been the sole survivor, and too young to explain who you were to the people who found you.”
“That’s a nice story, but it’s not true, Eden.”
“You can’t prove that it isn’t.”
“And you can’t prove that it is. I don’t even know how old I am. Alex was the one who thought I looked about eight. He picked my birthday too. November tenth was just a convenient day to celebrate.”
“What can you remember before the time you worked in The Blue Parrot?”
“Nothing. It’s almost as if my life began when I went to work there.”
“That’s odd, don’t you think? If your life was as awful as you imagine, I’d think you’d have plenty of memories, even if they were all bad.”
“Well, I don’t.”
“Undoubtedly because you nearly died in the shipwreck too. It’s no wonder you forgot your name and all the other details of your past.”
Raven began to laugh now. “I don’t blame you, Eden. I don’t like to think of myself as a whore’s son either.”
“While I do not believe that for a minute, even if it were true, it would be the very least of the things you are, Raven. Besides, I fell in love with you, not your parents.”
“It certainly helped that I was Lord Clairbourne though, didn’t it?”
A slow smile spread across Eden’s face as she shook her head. “No, it wasn’t that at all. You have your own brand of charm, Raven Blade, and I would have fallen in love with you even if you had not been an earl.”
The baby began to cry then, but she stopped as soon as Raven handed her to her mother. “She has Alex’s blue eyes and I’ll never ask you to tell another lie about who her father is. What do you want to name her?” he asked.
“Alexandra. If that’s all right with you.”
“I think it’s the perfect name.”
“Good.” Eden leaned down to kiss the baby’s cheek. “Cliff says she’s healthy. I’ve been so afraid the baby wouldn’t be.”
“Why didn’t you say so?”
“There was nothing you could have done.”
“Well, you could have at least given me the chance to try.”
Eden nodded, “I’m sorry.” Now that they were alone there was something else she wanted to say. “Since we are being so honest with each other, there’s something I didn’t tell you about last night.”
“No, we needn’t talk about it ever again. We’ll simply say Yadira left our employ. Her body will never be found so that story won’t be questioned. It was clearly self-defense anyway, but I would have sworn I killed her rather than allow you to take the blame.”
“Raven…”
Eden described the last few seconds before she had lost consciousness. “It was Alex who killed her when I couldn’t. I felt his hand on mine. I really did.”
While that was one of the most bizarre stories Raven had ever heard, he did not find it impossible to believe. “That explains a lot. Cliff told me he didn’t understand how a woman your size could have caused Yadira’s death, especially after what you had suffered. Whether it was his spirit, or merely your memories of his love, I’m certain Alex helped you.”
“You believe me?”
“Yes, I believe you, but I think we better keep that story to ourselves, as not everyone believes in guardian angels the way we do.”
“I do love you, Raven.”
“I love you too, but doesn’t it bother you that I’m not the man you thought I was?”
“Don’t be silly. You’re precisely the man I thought you were. You’re proud, stubborn, and wonderfully bright. I’m sure you can convince my father to build the steamship you’ve designed.”
“I intend to, but for now, I have all I want right here.” Raven proved that with a lingering kiss, then sat down on the bed so he could hold Eden in his arms while she nursed their daughter. “She has your blond hair, and I think she’ll be as beautiful as her mother. I wish Alex could have seen her.”
“After last night, I think he can.”
“I hope so.” Raven gave his wife a fond hug, and for the first time in his life he was completely content with who he was. He was the man she loved and that was all that truly mattered.
A
bout the Author
Always a passionate lover of books, this New York Times bestselling author first answered a call to write in 1980 and swiftly embarked on her own mythic journey. With more than seven million copies in print of her historical, contemporary and futuristic books written under her own name as well as her pseudonym, Cinnamon Burke, she is as enthusiastic as ever about writing.
A native Californian, Phoebe attended the University of Arizona and California State University at Los Angeles where she earned a BA in Art History and an MA in Education. Her books have won Romantic Times Reviewer’s Choice Awards and a nomination for Storyteller of the Year. She is a member of Romance Writers of America, Novelists Inc., PEN, AWritersWork.com and Backlistebooks.com.
She is the proud mother of two grown sons and two adorable grandchildren, who love to have her read to them. She loves to hear from fans. Please contact her through her web site: www.phoebeconn.com or her e-mail: [email protected]
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By Love Enslaved
Every house has its secrets…
By Love Enslaved
© 2012 Phoebe Conn
Captured on the isle of Erin by raiding Norsemen, Brendan has spent the last several years as a slave, passed from one owner to the next. Now the property of a prosperous Danish farmer, he passes the time playing family members against each other. All the while bargaining himself one step closer to a near impossible dream. Escape—and home.
His regards his current mistress as little more than a pagan bitch. Until her unexpected kindness rouses a completely new—and unwanted—feeling. Desire.
Dana wants only to have the family farm run smoothly while her father and brother are away for the summer. It’s not her fault that her aunt can’t control her female servants’ lusting after Brendan, but the belligerent slave is now her responsibility nonetheless.
Except he’s different from any slave she’s ever known. He’s rakish and charming, and his fine horsemanship is an asset she could use…if only he’d obey. Risky flirtation and magic kisses soon become a dangerous passion that burns away the line between mistress and slave.
But if she gives him his heart’s desire—freedom—it could cost her everything. Especially her heart.
Warning: A Celt slave fights for his freedom and the love of the Viking woman he adores in an unforgettable adventure with love as the ultimate prize.
Enjoy the following excerpt for By Love Enslaved:
Denmark, Early Summer, A.D. 882
Dana brushed the tears from her lashes, but the harder she tried to suppress her laughter, the more impossible it became. Her aunt’s flustered irritation at her mirth only served to amuse the flame-haired beauty all the more. Finally she raised her hand in a graceful appeal for mercy.
“Please, Aunt, no more.”
“But every word is the truth,” Grena insisted indignantly. “None of our women can resist the man.” Turning to her sixteen-year-old daughter, she urged her to speak. “You tell them, Berit. Perhaps they will believe you even if they think I am merely spinning fanciful tales to keep them entertained.”
Barely able to contain her own amusement, the vivacious blonde spoke in a breathless rush. “Jørn bought the Celt thrall only three days before he left on the summer voyage with Uncle Haakon. He had no time to observe the problems the man from Erin would create or I’m certain he would never have left us with such a troublesome burden.”
With marked skepticism, Dana glanced at her mother. Jørn was her Aunt Grena’s eldest son. At nineteen he had a well-deserved reputation for being not only irresponsible but reckless as well. He was also so self-centered that Dana doubted he would have cared even if he had known how difficult the new slave would make things for his widowed mother.
Berit correctly interpreted the silent exchange passing between Dana and Berit’s Aunt Freya, but she knew her brother’s faults too well to take offense and hurriedly continued. “The Celt has caused no end of turmoil, and truly there’s not one of our female servants who isn’t enamored of him. They are either shirking their work to sneak out to the stables to see him, or fighting among themselves over which of them is his favorite. While it is amusing to see them making fools of themselves over him, when their work goes undone we’re the ones who suffer.”
“Is he handsome?” Dana inquired with playful curiosity. “Or merely possessed of such remarkable stamina he can satisfy all your girls?”
When Berit blushed deeply at the indelicacy of the question, her mother responded for her. “He’s a surly brute, but I suppose some might find him handsome. As for his ability to satisfy a woman, that’s part of the problem. He’ll have nothing to do with any of them, but his disinterest only serves to make the girls all the more bold.”
“How can that be true?” Freya leaned forward to look directly at her younger sister. The day was warm, and the four women were seated beneath a massive oak whose leafy branches shielded their lovely fair complexions from the brightness of the sun’s rays. “With so many eager women, how can you be certain he wants none of them?”
“I have ears as well as eyes, Freya.” Annoyed that her sister would question her judgment, Grena paused only long enough to adjust the half-dozen heavy gold bracelets encircling her right wrist before she resumed her attempt at gaining sympathy. “None of the girls is happy. Brendan seems to hold all of them, as well as our family, in contempt. I’d sell him tomorrow, but Jørn said he was an extraordinary horseman, and all the men who would be willing to pay the price I would have to ask are away, just as our men are.”
While she was as greatly amused by the amorous antics of Grena’s servants as Dana, Freya knew her sister had come to her expecting help with her problems rather than merely unbridled laughter. Since the thrall couldn’t be sold, there appeared to be only one other option. A gracious woman, Freya was not reluctant to offer it, but she thoughtfully consulted her daughter first.
“Dana, can you imagine any of our servants chasing this poor man so shamelessly?”
Instantly comprehending the import of her mother’s question, as well as her reason for asking it, Dana’s smile vanished. Freya had been ill with a recurrent fever the past winter, and since she had yet to fully regain her strength and vitality, she relied heavily upon her eldest daughter to manage the duties she had formerly handled with ease. While Dana was happy to spare her mother every bit of work she could, she didn’t want to see her take on the responsibility for an obnoxious slave just because Grena was unable to control her household properly. Pampered and spoiled, first by her parents and then by a generous older husband, her aunt solved all her problems simply by thrusting them onto others. Dana would not insult her aunt by saying so to her face, however, so she offered an objection she knew would be readily understood.
“Father hasn’t kept thralls in years. Don’t you think he would be very displeased if we began taking in Aunt Grena’s?” she asked pointedly.
Freya’s delicately arched brows rose slightly at the mention of angering Haakon since she knew the possibility was an extremely good one. Despite that threat, she could not turn her back on the sister she held so dear. “You know your father expects us to make our own decisions when he’s away. Just let me worry about his reaction when he comes home in the fall. For the time being, we need only concern ourselves with Grena’s dilemma.”
Not pleased to have what she knew was sound advice cast aside so casually, Dana turned away to watch her younger brother and sister, who were playing nearby with Grena’s twelve-year-old twins, Olaf and Hrolf. The children’s happy laughter rang out over the blossom-filled meadow as they chased the lambs through the tall grass that extended clear down to the sandy shoreline.
The island of Fyn was not only beautiful, but i
t was also blessed with fertile soil and a mild climate. Though she had never traveled more than a few miles from her family’s farm, Dana knew it had to occupy one of the most perfect spots on earth. She took a great deal of pride in her home, as did her mother. Yet, while her mother’s health was still delicate, Dana didn’t want a troublesome thrall any more than Grena did. Why couldn’t her aunt see that she was thoughtlessly taking advantage of her sister’s love? Was she simply as selfish as Jørn?
When she reluctantly forced her attention back to the conversation at hand, she was embarrassed to find Grena waiting impatiently for her response to a question she had not heard. “I’m sorry, did you ask me something?”
Grena dared not criticize her niece for being inattentive when she needed her help so urgently, but her tone was cool and her diction crisp as she repeated her request. “Will you come for Brendan tomorrow? When not pestered by overeager females, he has shown himself to be a good worker, and I’m sure he won’t cause you any trouble. Then when Jørn comes home, he can decide what to do with the man. After all, Brendan is his property, so the problem is rightfully his.”
Knowing that was merely another convenient excuse for Grena to avoid taking responsibility for what went on under her own roof, Dana had to force down a bitter response before giving a polite one. “If the matter is decided, then yes, I’ll come for the man in the morning.”
Written in the stars…
Soaring Eagle’s Embrace
© 2012 Karen Kay
The Legendary Warriors, Book 4