Lady Falls (Black Rose Trilogy)

by Renee Bernard

  Mr. Carlton kissed her on the cheek. “There’s my girl! I glanced at her list and she was forced to question no less than ten strangers throughout the estate to achieve her victory!”

  Raven smiled. “Some of my favorite souls inhabiting Oakwell, as I hoped it would prove to have been a courageous and empowering day for you. Did you like item number eight, Mrs. Carlton?”

  “Oh, yes! What a delight!”

  Lady Morley applauded as well. “It was the best day for me, even with victory denied! I feel positively giddy after this! I can scarcely credit that Miss Wells had time to secret away so many delightful clues!”

  “A labor of love,” Raven admitted. “And the maids helped me this morning, so I cannot really claim all credit.”

  “I swear, I feel like dancing!” Lady Morley laughed and held out a handful of red ribbons she’d collected during her quest like a child at May Day.

  Geoffrey handed Millicent back her list. “As well you could! It was an admirable effort.”

  Sheffield took back his list with far less grace. “If my watch hadn’t been set incorrectly, I’d have had it. I had two more items secured than any of you!”

  “But failed to return to the library before the clock had struck three, sir,” the earl said. “Stop pouting, Sheffield!” He cleared his throat as he pulled a small wrapped package from his pocket. “It falls to me to provide the prize. Mrs. Carlton, here you are!”

  Mrs. Carlton took it from his hands as everyone except Mr. Sheffield celebrated.

  “Open it, dearest!” Mr. Carlton urged.

  The paper gave away easily and she lifted the framed miniature painting free to gasps of admiration. “Oh, it’s lovely!” she exclaimed.

  “The painting is worthless, but the frame is solid gold and a very pretty antique,” Trent said. “Think of it as a trinket to commemorate the day.”

  Mrs. Carlton held up the small painting and ornate frame for all to see and Phillip watched Raven’s color change slightly. Curiosity forced him to give up his place against the wall to draw closer. The painting was a delicate thing recognizably portraying the same mighty oak that they had picnicked under on the estate grounds. Bright colors and dappled sunlight hinted at a summer’s day and Phillip leaned in to note the initials of the picture’s author.

  “R.W.?” He looked toward Raven. “Miss Wells, is this your work?”

  “A trifle,” she admitted. “My feeble attempt at art after failing miserably at squibbling flowers onto teacups.” She pressed her hands together, her voice edged in a cheer that failed to touch her eyes. “As Lord Trent has said, it is a worthless thing.”

  Mrs. Carlton’s eyes widened. “Not worthless! It has even greater value to me, Miss Wells, I can assure you! I am in love with your little painting and each time I view it I will remember our holiday here and your lovely company.”

  “Assuredly it will hold a place of great honor in our home, Miss Wells,” Mr. Carlton added quickly. “The earl is too familiar with your talents to make such a judgment.”

  Phillip nodded, swallowing a lump in his throat at the hurt Raven was graciously denying. “I am wishing I’d put more effort into winning now that I see the prize, Miss Wells.”

  “Oh, good God!” Lord Trent rolled his eyes. “She isn’t Rembrandt! It’s an oil painting of a tree and I’m not heartless! Come, Raven. Reassure our guests that you are happy to see a sweet ending to the game.”

  Raven renewed her efforts and Phillip marveled at the change. With a small lift in her shoulders, she instantly embodied an airy gladness that lightened the room. “It could not have a better home than yours and the earl is right. What use is it here when we are blessed to enjoy the sight of the oak that inspired it each and every day? This way, you have a memento of your visit unique to Oakwell Manor.” She reached out to touch Mrs. Carlton’s hand, “And when you see it, you can summon the bravery of the day, don’t you think?”

  “I shall!” Mrs. Carlton said and then kissed Raven’s cheek. “What a treasure you are!”

  Lady Baybrook’s expression remained purposefully neutral. “I for one prefer the rewards of good conversation over willy-nilly exertions that result in nothing more than a need for a long nap.”

  Lord Trent smiled. “My gift for entertaining conversation is impossible to rival! But on that note of wisdom, let us each retreat to some quiet pursuit before the evening unfurls. I for one, sense a long night of cards ahead. Warn your husband, Lady Morley. I am in the mood to win.”

  “Yes. Though my husband hates to lose so perhaps it is you who needs the warning,” Millicent said then made her farewells as the rest of the party began to do the same.

  Phillip watched Raven with fascination as the girl who could draw every eye with a single gesture now successfully faded to retreat from the room without much notice. He’d have said it was impossible for Miss Wells to enter or escape any room without creating a stir. But she was an enchantress with more tricks than he knew…

  And he was set on learning all of them.

  “You all right?” the maid asked as Raven came into her bedroom.

  “I’m fine, Kitty. Why wouldn’t I be?” Raven inwardly cringed at how defensive she sounded.

  “Heard he passed your painting off to the Carltons,” Kitty said as she began arranging the jars on the vanity.

  “Gracious! How did you hear of such a thing and so quickly?”

  “I think everyone’s tracking things a bit keener during this holiday. But if you must know,” Kitty explained sweetly, “one of the footmen made quite a fuss over it when he was bringing his tray back down and I overheard him on the stairs.”

  “Perfect,” she sighed.

  “Wasn’t that the painting you made Lord Trent for his birthday last year?”

  Raven shrugged her shoulders, a study in affected nonchalance. “Yes. But Lord Trent has hundreds of masterpieces in the house. It’s not as if a man of exquisite taste is expected to wax poetic over an amateur scrap of canvas.” She leaned against one of the bedposts. “Besides, it really was a lovely choice for Mrs. Carlton. I’m happy for her to have it. Truly.”

  “Truly?”

  “Yes. I may have been surprised to see it at first but, I’m…completely thrilled at the gift.” She crossed her arms. “Delighted, in fact.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.” Kitty began to ready things for her mistress to rest for a while as custom dictated. “Did the scavenger hunt go well?

  Raven’s spirits lifted at the question. “It was glorious! It was—magical!”

  “As good as that?”

  Raven turned so that Kitty could help her out of her day dress. “Everyone had a lovely time and I think I have redeemed myself entirely with Mr. Sheffield.”

  “You weren’t so far into the weeds as that, Miss,” Kitty said. “I’m just pleased to see Lady Morley out and about to take part.”

  “It was one of the best parts of the day. She looked so…happy.” Raven’s joy hiccupped at the notion. “How is that even possible, Kitty? Do you think anyone could experience joy in the midst of—I don’t even know how to describe her challenges!”

  “Even if she can’t remember what happy looks like, it’s the nature of a well bred woman to make a good show of it.”

  Raven stepped out her skirts. “She deserves more than a show.”

  “Show is about all anyone can hope for,” Kitty shook her head sadly. “My ma always says if you hope for more, you’re bound to end up with less.”

  “I cannot help but believe that happiness is the natural state that we all strive for and inherently deserve.” Raven stroked the silk of her bed curtains and traced the embroidered vines with her fingertips.

  “Strive, well enough but I’m not sure it’s a real thing. Maybe in fleeting moments, but to be happy? All the time? Is that even possible?” Kitty sighed. “To bed with you!”

  Raven pressed her lips together to prevent the impulsive protest of a spoiled child of fortune. Her life had been a
carousel of great joy and abject misery so what logic did she think to outline that decreed a firm hold on happiness? She eyed her maid and tried another tactic as she yielded to the command and climbed into her bedding. “Do you want to be happy, Kitty?”

  Kitty straightened her spine. “I don’t look to dance a jig. I’m content enough and that’s enough.”

  “Is it?” Raven dropped her hands. “I suppose that’s the safer course.”

  She didn’t need to walk to the windows and look down to know that the view included a glimpse of the gazebo’s pergola peeking above the curving groves in the garden. Phillip’s obliging kisses had ignited her soul with promises and transformed her into a creature edged in want and craving. She wanted more. More of him, more of the joy of his touch and more of the glorious ruin of forbidden heat.

  Raven knew the rules of polite society—better than most as she skirted its edges, striving to be above reproach and beyond judgment. But Phillip Warrick had skewed all with a kiss and she was fighting to see where balance might give way to her raw need to be loved.

  “You are the happiest person I have ever met,” Kitty said. “It is a marvel to all who know you.”

  “Why a marvel?”

  “Because you make it look so effortless. Because you are the only one I know who celebrates everything from your favorite jam appearing at the breakfast table to the miraculous existence of rain puddles.” Kitty laughed.

  “You make me sound like a simpleton.”

  “Then I am sorry. I meant it as a compliment, not an insult. You are too clever and well you know it!”

  Raven sighed. “It’s just…”

  “Out with it. What is all this about happiness? Has someone said something unkind?”

  “No. I was merely wondering what price I would pay to be truly happy. If it were…offered.”

  “What would you give to be happy, Miss Wells?”

  “Everything.” Raven tasted the word and accepted the weight of its meaning. “I would give anything and everything I had, Kitty.”

  “Oh, my!” Kitty finished smoothing out her covers. “That’s quite a price to pay.”

  “Is it?”

  Kitty crossed her arms. “No one can offer you such a thing. You have it already and if they’re peddling happiness, you keep a tight hold on your purse. My ma always said it’s a tear-streaked face that thinks to get heaven for a penny.”

  “For the record, your mother should write these things down.”

  “Can’t write more than a simple mark for her name,” Kitty began to retreat from the room. “But I’ll pass along the compliment to her. Now you take a nap like a proper little lady! The earl won’t be pleased to see you yawning at dinner.”

  Kitty closed the door behind her and Raven closed her eyes to consider the day.

  She’d asked him for a kiss. Because she’d felt so uncertain of herself after seeing the pain in Lady Morley’s eyes. Marriage had always been a grand and noble goal and the highest achievement she could hope for, but never had that path appeared to hold physical danger or heartless cruelty. Now she’d looked again and uncovered stories of the horrifying pitfalls of a tragic matches and miserable women in the clutches of an institution that did not provide much mercy if a husband proved a brute.

  So, she’d set on the notion that it might be better to seize a little slice of control, to experience tenderness to banish her fears. If he had bruised her, her experiment would have solidified her worst suspicions about the opposite sex and eliminated all desire for a match. But his kisses had provided so much more than the simple reassurance that not all men were created equally.

  Here was a happiness she had never reached for.

  But there was a price for such things.

  She knew now that there would be no half measures. The risk was real. Women who asked for kisses could be accused of all manner of wanton lapses in their judgment. Mr. Warrick may even now have decided that she was hardly an angelic candidate for London’s lofty circles. He may have boasted to the other men of his encounter or—God, if he’s told the earl I am finished!

  Her head swam with terror.

  I could plead some kind of ignorance and swear it was all a silly game.

  I could.

  But I won’t.

  Raven opened her eyes to study the ornate patterns pressed into the metal ceiling tiles above her bed. Fear was not a familiar sensation and she dismissed it quickly. “Mr. Warrick has never betrayed any sign of not being a gentleman. Only a ninny jumps from a building that isn’t on fire.”

  It was Phillip who had ended their embrace and set boundaries. If he’d done otherwise, the debate in her head would flow differently but of all the lessons of the day, she decided that Phillip Warrick’s honor was without reproach.

  The conventions were clear. If a girl “set her cap” for a man, she must tread carefully. If her pursuit was a clumsy and obvious thing and she failed to win the man’s heart, she would become an object of derision and pity. But Raven knew that subtle maneuvers were not her forte. Over and over her tutors had noted that she had never mastered anything at a walk. Raven preferred to run, with the wind in her face and skirts flying out behind.

  Why would love be any different?

  Raven smiled at the simple logic of her heart’s desires.

  She would do her best to behave, to please her guardian and hold her own, but she would win Phillip Warrick if she could and seize her chance for happiness with both hands.

  Chapter Seven

  “I have an announcement, friends.” Lord Trent tapped his glass as he stood from the head of the dinner table. “My ward has been the sole source of entertainments to our party so far and I find I could not be outdone. The annual spring dance at a neighbor of ours looks to be cancelled at the last because of a house fire. No lives lost though that will set the Snows back financially for a generation or two. In any case, I have received an urgent request to host the event to prevent the worst.”

  “The worst?” Mr. Sheffield echoed, his voice tinged with sarcasm. “Oh, yes. Heaven forbid the local gentry is deprived of the chance to prance and bounce about in circles…”

  The rest of the party’s reactions were immediate and varied, but Mr. Warrick looked only at her with the promise of a waltz in his gaze.

  “Dear God!” Lord Morley barked. “What a nightmare!”

  “Not so bad as that,” Mr. Carlton said with a smile. “Country dances are the most charming affairs.”

  “They certainly are!” Lady Baybrook chimed in. “There is nothing untoward in the activity. And despite what Mr. Sheffield indicates, no one bounces!”

  “So our small country party will give way for a single night of revelry to the county’s finest families. If nothing else, the punch will be strong and plentiful,” Lord Trent said. “I cannot recall the last time I made use of my ballroom. One night of dancing will not destroy your health, Morley, and just think of the card game you could arrange, sir.”

  “Cards?” Lord Morley cheered up instantly. “It would be pleasant to have a few new faces at the table.”

  “When is this grand favor to occur?” Lady Baybrook asked.

  “This Saturday.” Trent sat back down. “I’ve already sent word that Oakwell Manor would serve.”

  Four days. Raven’s eyes widened in shock. She’d known vaguely of the local ball but since her attendance was always forbidden in preceding years, it was not an event she’d allowed herself to dwell on. Now, it was coming to her doorstep and she was giddy with anticipation. Unless… “May I attend the dance, your lordship?” she asked.

  “Of course!” Trent smiled. “You are now of an age to enjoy such things and since I am the hero of the county for my generosity, why should my ward not expect to be the belle of the ball?”

  Raven blushed, her mind immediately reeling through the dresses she had on hand for the occasion. “Thank you, Lord Trent!”

  “You are most welcome, my dear.”

  “Will it be your
first ball?” Mrs. Carlton asked.

  Raven nodded. “It will indeed. I had dance tutors, naturally, but…what a pleasant surprise to find that I have only days to wait instead of weeks! I long for it all.”

  “Such enthusiasm!” Mr. Carlton said. “Your confidence and beauty make you a credit to the earl’s house.”

  “She is a treasure,” the earl conceded cheerfully. “I’ve kept her fairly hidden from the local young bucks but let’s watch them strut about and make fools of themselves to try to win her.”

  Raven risked a quick glance at Phillip, immediately thrilled to see the somber dark expression on his face. He is jealous to think of me dancing with other young men.

  “I see you scowling over there!” Geoffrey said with a smile. “You’re not out of it, sir! A bachelor has no chance of clinging to the walls—not if he hopes to survive the night!”

  Lady Baybrook nodded. “It is an unthinkable sight for a bachelor to leave the local beauties without a partner. There is always a shortage of eligible men at these gatherings and I have heard of men earning a cold shoulder in Town if they offend the wrong families with their overhanded reluctance to dance.”

  “Dear God!” Mr. Sheffield exclaimed in horror. “I am a wretched dancer!”

  There was laughter around the table as poor Mr. Sheffield looked around in confusion. “Perhaps I should claim to have suffered an injury?”

  “There’s no hiding, sir,” Geoffrey teased. “But have no fear! Stand with me and I’ll defend you to the last.”

  Phillip kept his head down unwilling to give his host a better target for merriment. The prospect of a dance would normally have set him firmly in Sheffield’s camp proclaiming his misery and seeking the best escape attainable. But the tantalizing notion of waltzing with Raven and holding her in his arms was extremely appealing.

  What was not appealing was the equally present threat of watching Raven in the arms of anyone else.

  Damn it. There has to be a way to navigate this without calling out every boy in the county who thinks to prance across from her in a reel.