Lady Falls (Black Rose Trilogy)

by Renee Bernard

  And exactly when did I lose my mind and turn into a possessive ape?

  He looked up from the gold pattern on his china plate to spot Raven looking at him, the storm in her eyes a perfect reflection of his. Her tongue darted out to nervously touch her lower lip and Phillip dropped his fork with a loud clang against his plate as his body surged with unspeakable heat, his cock stiffening between his legs.

  All eyes diverted to him in that instant and Phillip was grateful to the heavens for the discretion of a long tablecloth and the cut of his pants.

  “Courage, there.” Lord Trent lifted his wine glass. “No man ever died from enduring a quadrille, Warrick!”

  “Thank the gods for that.” Phillip said with a sigh and won more laughter from the table.

  The conversation continued, excitement and anticipation of the ball overtaking the quiet of the evening. The Earl of Trent was in rare form, his mood effervescent as he began to tell wild tales of some of the local personalities. “Can you picture it? So this farmer wakes up after a bit of home brew and swears that he’s had an epiphany to make his fortune selling local mud in jars as a cure-all to the ladies of London!”

  Mr. Sheffield tapped his glass for one of the footmen to refill it. “A clear example of the effects of a brain fever.”

  Trent waved the comment off to gleefully reach the meat of his story. “Imagine my shock when he presents himself on my doorstep clutching a dirty little vial of his concoction and demands a tour of Oakwell Manor! For you see, with the massive wealth he was about to acquire with ‘Dr. Mudd’s Magical Elixir’, he expected to make me an offer on the house and take up residence within the year!”

  “My God!” Lord Morley’s disgust made his voice thick. “Did you beat him from your doorway with a horsewhip?”

  “Of course not,” the earl said with a wry grin. “I gave him the grandest and most thorough tour of the house that has ever been offered; including an inventory of the silver and an admonition to make sure that he have a good long look at the storerooms.”

  “You didn’t!” Lady Morley said, her eyes wide.

  “The man was practically jigging down the lane by the time I sent him on his way,” Trent said.

  “You ruined him with that generous show,” Phillip said. “Poor man.”

  “And that offer to buy you out?” Mr. Sheffield asked.

  “Strangely enough, it never came.” The earl sighed sarcastically. “I cannot see how bottles of mud could fail to make one rich, can you?”

  “It depends,” Phillip said. “I’ve seen fortunes made on more ridiculous schemes. Perhaps in other more skilled hands?”

  “Ah! There you have it!” The earl laughed. “I will be sure to consider Dr. Mudd’s Magical Elixir for my next venture!”

  Lady Baybrook cleared her throat. “And on that note, I believe it is time for the ladies to withdraw and leave the men to determine the details of their grand financial plans. Though I should warn you,” she said as she stood, forcing the others to follow suit, “the ladies of London will peel you like grapes if you wiggle bottles of horse manure under their noses.”

  The comment was so unexpected that everyone laughed until there were tears. It was a chaotic retreat for the ladies but Raven marveled that even the most somber matron could provide a silly reprieve. She followed the women out, sparing one last peek at Phillip, accepting that she already thought of him as hers.

  The women settled in to the salon taking their seats according to rank and Raven dutifully waited until the others were placed before selecting the seat furthest away from the fireplace.

  “I want to thank you again, Miss Wells, for the day and for your welcome.” Lady Morley rearranged her skirts as she sat down. “Lord Morley admitted that after hearing about the game, even he regretted missing it.”

  “Did he?” Raven blinked in shock.

  “He never did!” Lady Baybrook scoffed. “That man would no more gad about in a party game than a donkey would pull the queen’s carriage!”

  “I may have stretched the truth a bit,” Lady Morley admitted without a shred of shame in her voice. “Well, I had a lovely time of it! Counting stair steps and finding those pretty little red bows tied to the chandaliers—it was a thrilling chase!”

  “Then it was worth it, your ladyship,” Raven said. “To see you happy.”

  “It has been a very pleasant holiday,” Mrs. Carlton added. “And now a country dance? Mr. Carlton has quite the gleam of nostalgia about him as a result.”

  “I cannot remember being so cheered at word of a ball,” Lady Morley said. “But then it is always fun to see romance take hold and matches made.”

  “In my day,” Lady Baybrook said warming to the topic. “If one could spot the match being made then it was a sure sign of poor manners! Not like these days where everyone makes such a show of their attachments! It is a sad erosion of the upper class.”

  Mrs. Carlton pressed her lips together and studied the sherry in her glass.

  “Though here at least, I can make my contribution to the night’s success. My matchmaking talents are famous,” Lady Baybrook went on. “I have a keen eye for the best matches and have been responsible for more honorable alliances than not. More than one family in the county may be glad of my attendance and attention during the evening if I apply my talents.”

  “Oh!” Mrs. Carlton took a sip from her glass to steady her nerves. “H-how generous of you!”

  Lady Morley looked at Raven. “What say you, Miss Wells? Will you be content to have Lady Baybrook see if she cannot make an introduction or two for you?”

  Raven’s skin chilled at the flash of disapproval in the dowager’s eyes. “There is no need. My ambitions for the night extend only as far as being present, Lady Morley. It will be a delight to see the fashions and enjoy the music.”

  “Such humble expectations!” Lady Morley protested.

  “Miss Wells is wise beyond her years,” the dowager proclaimed. “She recognizes the extraordinary generosity of her guardian in including her and knows better than to overstep.”

  Millicent’s confusion was obvious. “Knows better? How can a single toe of that girl overstep when she is so young and beautiful?”

  “You are too kind, Lady Morley. I’m sure Lady Baybrook meant to compliment me on my intention to be on my best behavior and do nothing to embarrass my dear Lord Trent.” Raven smiled. “I think it will be invaluable practice before my first ball in Town this fall.”

  “Well, I will be happy to note which man steps up to take Miss Wells’ first dance,” Lady Morley sighed. “Though I suspect I can guess who it will be.”

  “What? Who?” Mrs. Carlton asked.

  Raven forced herself to be very still, alarm keeping pace with the blush creeping up her face. “Yes, who would you be thinking of, your ladyship?”

  “It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Millicent said. “Why, Mr. Sheffield, of course! That man nearly fell out of his chair when there was a mention of dancing, I just knew it was his nerves betraying him.”

  Mrs. Carlton shook her head. “The man has done nothing but nip at her heels, Lady Morley. I hate to be the one to contradict your theory, but he has been most unkind to our Raven.”

  “Then it’s certain he is probably smitten! Men are notoriously contrary when it comes to matter of the heart.” Lady Morley’s voice rang with quiet authority. “The ones that make the greatest show of protest and disapproval are always the first to fall.”

  Raven felt faint with relief but managed to nod. “I would never have foreseen it.”

  Mrs. Carlton continued to shake her head. “I still cannot see it!”

  “Have you decided what you will wear, Lady Morley?” Raven asked and was rewarded as the topic changed to the dramatic improvisations of wardrobes packed for a country holiday that now unexpectedly included a formal ball.

  Raven sipped her cider with a slice of sugared orange floating in it, quietly keeping clear of the flow of the conversation. Lady Baybrook’s ins
inuations about Raven’s ineligibility had not missed their mark. She had been months away from facing her fears in London. But the earl’s announcement had pushed everything up and Raven was no fool. The local gentry would be polite to their host and vicariously to his ward but that may not extend as far as risking their children in an unsavory association with a girl without legitimate family.

  Even so, she’d run into the teeth of it with her head held high.

  Her bravery, however, was starting to lose steam. The anonymity of being one more pretty girl in a crowded London ballroom had felt vaguely possible but it was not something she was in the mood to test so soon. Not with Phillip Warrick’s eyes on her at the ball if the earl’s contemporaries felt as Lady Baybrook did… She waited until there was an appropriate lull in the conversation and then quietly excused herself to avoid the return of the men.

  She craved another encounter with Phillip and longed to prove that the exchange in the gazebo was not a unique or fleeting experience, but she didn’t trust herself to sit unmoved while he was nearby. Lord Trent missed nothing when it came to her and she wasn’t ready for his interrogation.

  Not yet.

  Why is it that when it comes to Phillip, I have the sinking sensation that I will never be ready for what lies ahead?

  Chapter Eight

  The following morning, Raven stopped in the library to pick up another book for her bed stand. She’d only just settled on what she hoped would be a distracting read to help her sleep better when she heard footsteps behind her.

  She turned with a smile thinking Phillip had found her again only to realize it was Lord Morley. He was wearing his riding clothes but she couldn’t tell whether he was fresh from a ride or just heading out. In either case, the sight of him no matter what he was wearing was enough to jar her senses and bring her to her feet.

  “Lord Morley! Are you…”

  “Miss Wells. I would normally ask what you are reading but in your case, I find the idea fills me with trepidation.”

  “Why, Lord Morley? Are you afraid that it may be something wholly inappropriate?” Raven said as she held out the book toward him. “I will disappoint you when you see that it is a study of the history of the Celts.”

  “Perhaps. Though from what I’ve encountered in you, I would recommend you avoid everything to do with rebellion lest some portion of that treatise on those savages inspire you to play the harridan.” Lord Morley kept his hands behind his back. “Women need not read of battles.”

  Raven squared her shoulders, determined to hold her own but also to give no offense to a guest of the manor. “I will set it aside while you are here, sir.”

  He shifted his stance, studying her. “I am glad to find you alone.”

  “Are you?”

  “I wanted to speak to you as directly as possible and it seems I have my chance.”

  “On what subject, sir?”

  “On the matter of my wife.”

  Raven was sure her heart’s rhythm changed and a trickle of icy fear tumbled down her back. “Your wife? Why would you wish to talk to me about your wife, your lordship?”

  “I cannot help but suspect that you have formed a friendship with Millicent.”

  “Suspect? An odd word choice when it comes to the natural alliance of women during a country party.” Raven kept the hold on her book deliberately gentle so that nothing in her carriage would give away the wariness that had gripped her. “What do you fear?”

  “I fear nothing.” His eyes were cold. “Millicent is like a child in many ways and enjoys your silly games and diversions. Well and good. But I do not approve of the way Trent has given you free rein. You will not speak as you did at that picnic in front of my wife. I will not have you thoughtlessly spewing your opinions as an infant vomits porridge.”

  “I’m not sure I understand, sir. Is it the nature of my opinions that offends you so? Or that I possess a mind of my own?” Raven lifted her chin.

  Lord Morley stared at her, aghast. “It is this attitude you will refrain from displaying in her presence!”

  “Do you fear that I will set some kind of perverse example for your wife?” Raven asked calmly. “Surely Lady Morley is a woman grown and not prone to paying the slightest attention to the conversation of an ill-behaved girl.”

  “No woman of quality would!” he growled.

  “Then you should feel nothing but relief!” she sighed as if the matter were happily settled.

  “You steer clear of me and mine, Raven Wells!” Lord Morley took a menacing step toward her but Raven didn’t flinch.

  “Yes, your lordship. As the law dictates, your wife is yours to rule.” Raven matched his move with one of her own and pressed the book in her hands squarely against his chest. “But you must bear in mind, I am not any man’s to rule and if you think to command me, you’re a fool.”

  “How dare you!”

  Raven stepped back and curtsied. “I will naturally do as you wish, Lord Morley, and be the meekest version of myself in your wife’s presence.”

  His mouth fell open at her unexpected capitulation and the sight of a very innocent and yielding girl looking at him contritely through lashes the color of blackest soot. The shift was so fast, he could barely fathom it. “You…called me a fool.”

  “I? No! I said if you thought to overstep with me, then that would make you a fool. But you are no fool, sir. Are you not?”

  “Trent should beat you within an inch of your life.”

  She looked up at him aware of the void at her feet. Her mistake in taunting him clanged against her ribcage. All that rage, and he can’t touch me. But, oh god…his wife will be within reach and I may have condemned her to the worst of it. “Please.” Tears filled her eyes and she allowed her very genuine fear to show. “I reacted poorly to your request because—I thought you were mocking me! Your wife dislikes me, sir and for you to forbid a friendship seemed…cruel.”

  “Millicent dislikes you?” he asked.

  “As you do! I’ve made an abysmal showing and….” Her voice hitched and she put a hand to her throat. “I will say no more.”

  Lord Morley nodded, a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. “See that you don’t and I will not share this exchange with your guardian.”

  “Thank you, your lordship.”

  “Ah! There you are, Morley!” The earl hailed from the doorway. “We are set to mount up, man!”

  “Of course.” Lord Morley turned stiffly and headed toward the earl. “I spotted your ward and lingered to thank her for amusing Millicent with that game yesterday. It was a good tonic after her cold.”

  “Yes, yes, Raven is a delight. Come on, man! We’ve gotten Sheffield up in the saddle so there’s no time to waste.” The earl saluted Raven with his riding crop and smartly turned to lead his guest out.

  She waited until she heard the front door close behind them before she raced up to her room to ring for Kitty.

  Within minutes, Kitty was there. “It’s early to change, mistress, but what may I do for you?”

  “You must tell Mrs. Lindstrom to find Lady Morley immediately and tell her that if her husband questions her, she is to express nothing but dislike for me. He is unhappy at any hint of a friendship between us and I…may have angered him when he confronted me on the topic. Kitty, she must be warned and prepared!”

  “Oh, my!” Kitty sighed. “Where is he now?”

  “Off for a ride with the other men, so there is no time to waste.”

  “I’ll see to it but please, miss. Between a husband and wife, there is no place for you to be caught meddling!”

  “Yes. Brilliant advice. Thank you, Kitty.” Raven crossed her arms. “Now, go and do as you are bid. Mrs. Lindstrom will have to be the messenger as quickly as she can.”

  Kitty nodded and left on her urgent errand.

  Raven sat down at her vanity table and tried to absorb the developments of her afternoon. She’d intended nothing more than being a supportive soul during Lady Morley’s stay. Clearly
Millicent’s husband wasn’t open to any such casual connections…

  Raven looked at her reflection in the mirror and weighed out her choices.

  Obedience and retreat as Lord Morley wished.

  Only if that is what Lady Morley truly wishes.

  She did not know the lady’s mind well enough to hazard a guess.

  “Well, that,” she announced to an approving mirror, “is something I will rectify. And if the lady desires an ally in truth, then so be it! A few books on the art of war may be just what my education is lacking.”

  After lunch, she waited for the men to return from their ride and approached the earl in his study before he retired to his rooms to rest and change for dinner.

  “Raven? Why do you look so glum?”

  “I am sorry to intrude on your day, but I fear I may have failed to show restraint and allowed my temper to get the better of me today.” Raven held her place just inside the doorway.

  “What have I taught you about restraint?”

  “Very little.” Raven’s brow furrowed, truly concentrating on the puzzle. “That it serves only at tea parties and social gatherings.”

  “And otherwise?”

  “Otherwise I should trust my instincts and rein in my impulses only when they might cause true harm. You said it was a mark of intelligence to be bold where others are cautious.” Raven touched her forehead to cool her temples. “Frankly, it is the one lesson you have repeated so often I wonder that you did not carve it over my doorway. “I should be bold when others are cautious.”

  “Good girl.”

  “Your lordship?” Raven smoothed out her skirts. “I have the distinct impression that boldness is not often associated with ‘goodness’ when it comes to the fairer sex. I tend to anger your more conservative friends. But…”

  “Never fear the natural order of things, my dear. And if we carry this analogy forward, then real men are hunters and far more likely to admire a tigress over some paralyzed timid warthog.”

  Raven smiled. “I see. Well, when you put it that way, it is hard to see the appeal of a warthog to anyone.”