Chronicles of Steele: Raven: The Complete Story

by Pauline Creeden

  Jack swallowed his retort. Instead he said, “As long as you are travelling with us, we will remain in armistice. But if you speak ill once more of him, I’ll break this alliance and arrest you.”

  With an indignant look toward the guard on the stairs, Raven gave a curt nod and headed for a table already occupied by Monroe and Marietta. The older woman patted the single empty seat next to her when Colton passed, but he bowed his head affably and continued to the larger banquet table near the door where the guardsmen chose to sit. Darius awoke enough to sit in a chair and pick at some food on his plate. The young baron kept glancing around him.

  “Are you okay, Darius?” Jack asked.

  The boy fixed his watery gaze on him and shook his head. His voice cracked barely above a whisper. “Where is Nikki? And Raven?”

  A chair scraped at the table a bit a way. Raven approached the young baron and knelt beside his chair. “I’m here, Darius. I promise not to be too far. And we’ll join up with Nikki before we get on the train. She’s with a friend of Monroe’s.”

  Relief washed over the young baron, and he threw his arms around Raven’s neck. Silence settled over the rest of the table. Even Harry and Bradley had stopped their incessant chatter. Raven stood, the boy still clinging to her and returned to her table. Rupert began to go after her, but Jack shook his head slightly when they met each other’s eyes. What harm would it do? Obviously, the boy had developed a bond with the woman reaper that would not be easily severed.

  Marietta had moved to the side with Monroe, and the young baron sat in the chair next to Raven. Jack had to admit that the boy looked more lively sitting with her.

  As they ate quickly, Jack found his gaze continually drawn in the direction of Raven and the baron. Sometimes the woman could be so tender and other times she was infuriating. Friend or foe? Which would she prove to be?

  Trust must be earned and not freely given.

  Alliances are always tenuous until they are broken. Never rush into friendship.

  WHEN THE TRAIN pulled to a stop at New Haven, Raven’s heart pumped adrenaline through her veins at an alarming rate. All her senses were on high alert. The station seemed ordinary enough. People checked all of the windows for their loved ones to arrive. No additional guardsman stood under the overhanging red canopy.

  Darius gripped her hand weakly, but he refused to let go even as he’d slept. She pulled her fingers from his grasp gently, and it woke him.

  She smiled as well as she could. “We’re here. I’ll carry you if you’d like.”

  The boy nodded. He wrapped his arms around her neck and put his legs around her waist, resting them on her hips. He was heavier than a sack of grain from the farm, but less awkward. She didn’t need to launch him over a shoulder, but instead he clung to her again like one of the spider monkeys she’d seen once at the carnival. The memory of the aroma of cotton candy and popcorn wafted through her brain, tickling her nose so that she nearly sneezed.

  Darius’s warmth against her body comforted her, and she wondered if he could feel her heartbeat through his chest. His own beat weakly through hers. Were the bones on her corset uncomfortable for him? If so, he did not complain. Regardless, she felt vulnerable in this position. It would be difficult to do battle should the need arise. Truthfully however, the comfort he afforded her, and she seemed to afford him, was worth it. The young baron would be willing to be put down if necessary.

  “Do you need help with him?” Captain Grant offered a hand before they reached the end of the train’s aisle. His brown eyes were soft and pleading, almost apologetic.

  Raven’s spine stiffened. She shook her head and averted her gaze. He was nothing more than a lackey. Kill at the duke’s command—save at his command as well. Do not question his reasons or motivations, even if they should change. The very idea was repugnant, and this whole course of events felt erroneous.

  Carefully, she descended the steps from the train car to the platform. The vision from her right eye was blocked by Darius’s wild, dark curls, his head buried in her neck and shoulder. They tickled her ear as she turned to scan both directions for potential problems. Monroe approached with Nikki straining against the leather leash.

  Raven smiled. “Darius. Nikki is here.”

  Darius released his spider monkey hold and slid from her grasp. He pulled the caramel-coated Great Dane into a hug similar to the one he’d held on Raven. Monroe gestured with his eyes. She looked the direction he indicated.

  Four new guardsmen approached, accompanying the same bow-tie clad man who had been with Darius the first time she’d met him. The tutor. Reginald. The man moved stiffly, his long fingers fluttering to his tie. Raven’s own fingers twitched with the desire to hold her sword or crossbow. But the only weapon she held at present was a dagger in her garter. It would make quick work of one of them, but simple hand to hand combat afterword might leave her relying too much on Monroe.

  Reginald cleared his throat, and Darius stiffened in response.

  “Young Baron, please do not lower yourself to the level of a mere animal. Keep stance with your station.”

  Raven’s jaw clicked when she tightened it and watched as the young boy rose up and held himself as a baron once more. Except for the red overalls and common linen shirt, his stance reminded everyone of the noble he was. Still, one hand remained on the top of Nikki’s head as though riveted to the spot.

  The four new guardsmen spread out in a semi-circle and drew their weapons. Raven curled her lip in a sneer, and her fingers moved unconsciously to her thigh. A hand touched her shoulder. She stiffened and met eyes with Captain Grant, who shook his head slightly and eyed the other guardsmen. He motioned with his hand and the new guardsmen replaced their pistols.

  His breath whispered against her ear and every hair on the back of her neck stood on end. “There’s no need to fight. We’re all on the same side.”

  Gooseflesh rose on her arms, but she shook off his hand and pulled away. As much as she wanted to believe what Grant had said, she couldn’t. She’d spent too much of her life seeing the Duke’s Guard as her enemy and couldn’t shrug off the weight of this situation. Something just didn’t sit well with her.

  Monroe drew up to her side. His wide blue eyes told her she wasn’t alone in this inability. His hands were hidden beneath his ragged coat. Certainly they caressed the hilts of his weapons.

  The tutor prattled in his high-pitched, nasal way. “Where did you get these awful clothes? I declare you’ve lost weight while you were…away. Did they feed you? You’re flushed. Do you feel well, young sir?” The very sound of his voice seemed both accusing and reprimanding at the same time. Tutor and caretaker—that was what Darius had called him, right?

  Even though Raven could tell he cared, he also seemed to spend more time criticizing than actually helping. She wondered if that was his method of teaching as well. The man seemed to want to take the place of Darius’s long-lost mother, but lacked the love and emotion behind the words.

  Raven eyed the young baron. He stood stiffly, hand still on Nikki’s head. But his pallor had grown paler, and beads of sweat had formed upon his brow. The dog whined. Reginald turned toward the dog and commanded her to sit—his scolding attention had found another victim. Darius wavered, his knees buckling. Raven dashed forward, her shoulder knocking into Grant, but she caught the young baron before his head hit the paver stones. She lowered him gently onto her lap. Was this an episode?

  A sharp intake of breath caught above her head and an accusatory finger prodded her face. “How dare you touch the baron? Commoner. Criminal.” The tutor’s voice grew higher in pitch, a crescendo of nasal whining. “Arrest this woman. At once!”

  Raven’s heart sunk. This again?

  Two men stepped between her and the tutor, forcing the man to retreat. The nearest to her was Monroe, his cane set on the ground in the midst of his wide, defensive stance. Closest to the tutor stood Grant. The captain bore down on Reginald and his voice seethed. “This woman is neit
her a criminal nor a commoner. By order of Baron Solomon, she is Baron Darius’s personal guard and caretaker.”

  Reginald’s eyes grew wide and his lips flapped like a fish’s when pulled from the water. “But…but…”

  A smile tugged at the corner of Raven’s lip. Grant had stood up for her this time. Maybe she had him pegged wrong? Time would tell.

  Jack sat astride a chestnut gelding and watched the carriage before him. All the guardsmen sat upon flesh horses nearest the carriage, and a few steam-powered ones broke out front, blazing the trail before retinue and announcing their approach at the gate. Colton rode beside Marietta, nodding his head at her constant chatter. Monroe followed on foot with Nikki on a leash, the two of them bringing up the rear. The carriage not only held the baron and his tutor, but Raven as well.

  That woman. The last trip they made of this sort, she’d been in his arms, soaking wet. Jack shivered at the memory, and his heart ached slightly. Why? Why did he feel empty now?

  Zeppelins bobbed in the sky overhead the court—many more than he’d remembered when he left. They circled about the edge of the perimeter like buzzards over a carcass. Where had such a strange metaphor come from? That woman had too much influence over his thoughts. She’d made him doubt his liege’s commands, and it was something he’d taken an oath to prevent. His stomach twisted when they reached the gates of the court.

  Once inside, Jack leapt from his horse and handed it to a groom. He rushed to the side of the page who set a step at the carriage and held open the door for the occupants. Reginald disembarked first. His shoulders were slumped and his face pale and clammy. It would almost seem as though he’d caught the boy’s fever. The tutor withdrew a kerchief from his waistcoat and wiped at his brow.

  His pale eyes met Jack’s. The man’s eyebrows rose, and his eyes lost the worried look they’d had. Instead they pleaded. “That woman’s name is quite appropriate. She refused to answer any of my questions, and her effect on the boy…he’s never been so cold. Black steel. That’s what they were.”

  A smile rose Jack’s lip and he knew it was a smirk. Black steel? That described the woman almost perfectly. He wondered if her father had known she’d become that way and so named her Raven?

  When a feminine boot appeared in the coach door, Jack rushed forward to take her hand as she dismounted the carriage. But her hands were full again. She carried the baron. Instead, Jack settled on her elbow. Static electricity shot from her bare skin to his fingertips. Gooseflesh rose on her arm.

  The hair on the back of Jack’s neck stood on end. He swallowed. This was more than just the static of the carriage ride. Much more. Ladies of the court wore gloves. Likely for the purpose of avoiding exactly this sort of reaction from the men they touched. But Raven’s hands had always been bare. Though he’d touched them several times, the bare skin had never had this reaction before. What had changed?

  She pulled the elbow from his grasp as her feet hit the cobblestones of the courtyard. Her eyes met his with an eyebrow raised. He loved that he could tell her mood like he could tell the weather. Her expressions were as telling as the clouds in the sky. She was not angry, but her face twisted in confusion. It made Jack smile wider and his heart thumped in his chest. It had to have been more than just a static discharge to her as well.

  Reginald cleared his throat. “Darius, your brother has asked to see you immediately upon arrival. Will you let the staff take care of the…guests?”

  The boy shook his head against Raven’s shoulder, refusing to release his grip on her. “No, Raven will come with me.”

  She had turned her face from Jack, so he could not gauge her expression. But if he knew her at all, he was certain she’d be the one smirking this time.

  Reginald huffed and stomped over to Jack. “Fine. As the young baron wishes. But Captain, I expect you to take care of…the other ones.” He waved his hand in the direction of the ragged reaper and redheaded witch.

  “What would you have me do, sir?”

  A snarl took over Reginald’s twisted face. He leaned in and said in a harsh whisper, “If it were up to me, the prison house would be most suitable. But since it is not, find them quarters in the west wing.”

  The tutor shook his head and stomped off, Raven following behind him.

  Monroe stopped when he reached Jack’s side. The elder reaper’s eyes remained on the boy and the woman. He placed Nikki’s leather leash in Jack’s hand. A smile rose upon the old man’s face. “No need to put anyone out. If you have charge of the baron’s Great Dane again, I’ll take care of finding my own lodging in the stables.”

  Jack’s eyebrows scrunched together on his forehead. “That’s most irregular, sir. But if it is what you wish for accommodation, it can be arranged.”

  Monroe nodded and scratched his beard. Then he headed in the direction of the stables.

  Jack tilted his head to Rupert in silent command. The black skinned guardsman jogged to catch up with the old man. Colton’s eyes found his, and he nodded his direction as well. Marietta weaved her arm into Colton’s, and he guided her toward the house.

  Harry approached. “Would you like me to take care of Nikki, sir?”

  Jack’s eyes had returned to the front door of the main house and watched the periwinkle skirt disappear within.

  “No, Harry. I’ve got this.” He gripped the leather leash tighter and started for the house.

  The spicy smells of cinnamon and bay leaf intermingled throughout the first floor dining area. The butler had taken the same post he’d had when Raven first arrived. This time, however, she was too tired to be nervous. Darius’s chair had been pulled as close to hers as possible, and he rested his head against her shoulder.

  Her jaw clicked again as she’d tightened it. If it were not for her presence, they would likely have taken the young baron to his brother’s bedside instead of standing on the pretense of meeting here in a formal room of the house. Both brothers should be in bed. Neither was well enough for this meeting. Baron Solomon’s hair had gone white. A ghost of him sat before her, as though he’d already died, and this meeting was a witch’s doing.

  “Electromagnetic manipulation?” Solomon’s voice struggled through the phlegm in his throat. He coughed into the kerchief he held. “That’s the diagnosis of the witch you’d brought with you?”

  “Yes.” Raven’s answer was short. She wanted to speed this conversation along to allow both the two barons to go to bed. Why was she here at all except to keep Darius safe?

  Solomon nodded. “We’ll be sure to keep Marietta here until Darius has learned what he needs to know to control this…talent of his.”

  Solomon stood, his back bent like an old man’s, but she knew he was at least four years her younger. Although his smooth skin kept him from looking older than Monroe, his hair held more silver.

  “Is there anything I can do for you, Baron Solomon?” she asked.

  He shook his head and smiled sweetly. “Not for me.” Then a strain formed wrinkles around his eyes. “But for Darius. I don’t know what my father’s full intentions are anymore. Since I no longer make it to his cabinet meetings, he’s eliminated them. He’s assured me that Darius will be safe, and I want to believe him, but at times he hardly seems like the father I remember from my childhood. He’s changed.”

  Raven gulped. The baron had voiced all of her worst fears. She had wanted him to reassure her so that she could leave Darius in his family’s care. But now she felt as though she couldn’t possibly leave.

  Baron Solomon softened his expression and set a hand on his younger brother’s head. “There is a nanny’s quarters attached to Darius’s room. He had not moved yet from the nursery. Although he hasn’t had the need for a nanny for quite a while, he does need a personal guard.” His grey eyes met hers. “Would you remain here in that capacity? At least for a while?”

  The knot in her stomach unclenched, but her shoulders tensed. It was peculiar to feel both relief and tension at the same time, but that’s exa
ctly what she felt. Relief that he had asked so she didn’t have to request it of him. But tension because it meant she’d need to be on guard. Always. She nodded.

  Like a shadow, the butler followed Baron Solomon, leaving her and Darius alone in the formal dining room. The younger baron smiled weakly up at her and took her by the hand. “I can show you where our rooms are if you’d like.”

  The boy’s strength seemed to rally now that he knew she wouldn’t be leaving him. As he led her by the hand up the grand staircase and down a darkened, windowless hallway, Raven memorized her route. She’d need to make a mental map of the place, and she’d need to know how many people resided under the roof and where their quarters were. Darius prattled to her as he led her, giving her some of the information she required as they went. But most of the time he talked about his room and all the things he had missed about it.

  When they finally arrived, the boy labored to breathe and had sweat upon his brow, but his eyes still had the bright, excited sparkle of life to them. Still, he’d need a nap.

  “I believe that your brother said he’d join us for dinner in a few hours. Why don’t we both rest—maybe nap until then.” She forced a yawn. “I know I’m tired.”

  At the suggestion, Darius yawned, too. “Okay. I’ll just show you my room expeditiously, okay?”

  She nodded and gave him a weary smile. Honestly, she was tired—exhausted in fact. But she knew in her heart she would get little sleep on guard duty. They entered the extravagant bedroom. It was much too large for a single nine-year-old child. A large bed, a fireplace, a picture window with a settee, and a work table for tinkering. Toys were neatly stacked upon the shelves and the room looked more like a museum display of a child’s bedroom rather than one lived in. But of course it had been over a month since the child had lived in it.