Love's Peril (Lord Trent Series)

by Holt, Cheryl

  “Sit down, Annalise,”he rattled her by saying.

  “I’ll stand.”

  “No, you need to sit.”

  They were in the estate office at Bramble Bay where Raven spent a good portion of every morning reviewing the ledgers with Reggie. It was a tedious chore for a seafaring man, but he was skilled with numbers and would do whatever Jean Pierre requested. Even mathematics.

  He was seated behind the desk, and he gestured to the chair across. She wanted to refuse, just on general principle, but it was pointless to fight Raven—as it was pointless to fight Jean Pierre. It was best not to argue with either of them.

  “Fine, I’ll sit.”

  “Thank you. I’d rather not quarrel with you today.”

  She was desperate to delay the pending conversation, so she took an inordinate amount of time settling down, straightening her skirt. Once she felt sufficiently braced, she looked him in the eye.

  “What’s happening?”she snapped.

  “He’s asked me to make some arrangements for you.”

  “What sort of arrangements?”

  “He’s sending you to Paris.”

  Her heart literally skipped a beat, but to conceal her rage and disgust, she kept her expression blank.

  “I don’t wish to go to Paris.”

  “It’s not up to you.”

  “I’ve been away from home for months. I’m weary and would like to return to the castle.”

  “You won’t be returning.”

  She understood what he was telling her, but she was determined to feign confusion. “I’m sick of England. Will Jean Pierre travel to France with me?”

  Raven’s annoyance flared. “You’re being deliberately obtuse. You know how these things work. Don’t be difficult.”

  “I have no idea how these things work. My place is with Jean Pierre. I’ll not languish in Paris and leave him without the female comfort he’s retained me to supply.”

  Raven sighed, appearing as if Jean Pierre had finally dumped a task on him that was too loathsome to assume.

  “Let me be blunt, Annalise. He’s putting you aside.”

  “He is not.”

  “He is. Now you can fuss and complain and waste energy battling the inevitable, or you can be grateful for the time you had with him and be happy with the parting gifts he’s prepared to bestow.”

  “I want no gifts,”she spat. “I want my spot with him.”

  “It’s over, Annalise.”

  They engaged in a staring match, but Raven was unflappable and impossible to fluster, while Annalise was hotheaded and irate and eager to lash out.

  “Two years!” She slapped her palm on the desktop, the loud smack ringing off the ceiling. “I gave him two years of my life!”

  “That’s much more than any other woman can claim. Be glad of it.”

  “He made promises to me.”

  “He never did.”

  “He said we’d always be together. He said he would always keep me.”

  “You’re being absurd,”he scoffed. “Lie to yourself if you choose, but don’t lie to me.”

  “I won’t let him go! I won’t!”

  Raven sighed again. “He’s being extremely generous and granting you much more than I feel you deserve.”

  “Rude dog! Don’t speak to me as if I am a servant.”

  He ignored her insult. “I tried to talk him out of it, but he wouldn’t listen. If it had been up to me, you’d have gotten much less.”

  Raven pulled out a piece of paper and laid it on the desktop, which was galling. He was aware that Annalise couldn’t read, couldn’t decipher for herself the true provisions.

  Luckily, he saved her any embarrassment by verbally explaining the terms. But she scarcely paid attention as he listed an apartment in a wealthy neighborhood, an allowance, money for servants.

  Her mother had been a courtesan, had raised Annalise to be a courtesan. Annalise had slithered through the Paris underworld with similar women, all using their bodies to obtain the support they needed.

  They’d secretly dreamed that their keepers would fall in love and marry them, but that never occurred. The men were usually already married, so the next biggest hope was for a lengthy relationship, followed by a pension at the end.

  Only a very tiny handful were ever fortunate enough to receive what Jean Pierre was offering, but she was too incensed to accept with any grace.

  She’d always recognized that her situation with him was temporary, but she’d persuaded herself that it would continue forever with no changes. Yet Jean Pierre snapped his fingers, and it was wiped away as if it had never been.

  Her temper had always been her downfall, and this occasion was no different.

  “How can I be positive he will give me what you’ve mentioned?”

  “He said he would, and his word is law.”

  She pointed to the document. “That paper could say anything and I wouldn’t know.”

  “I’ve told you the terms, Annalise. Don’t call me a liar.”

  “If I refuse or if I want more, what then?”

  “Then you’ll get nothing. You’ll return to France as a pauper with only the clothes on your back.”

  She grabbed the document and ripped it to shreds.

  “I demand to speak with him.”

  “You can’t.”

  “I can and I will,”she hissed. “I demand to hear it from his own treacherous lips. I demand he tell me to my face that he no longer needs me.”

  “He’ll be here on Friday. You have to depart before then.”

  “I won’t!”

  “I’ve booked passage for you, sailing out of Dover on Thursday afternoon.”

  “It is wasted money for I won’t use the ticket you have purchased.”

  His expression grew steely, his eyes cold. “If you don’t go on your own, I will personally tie you onto a horse and drag your ass to Dover. I will personally carry you on board and have the captain bind you to the bulkhead for the trip across the Channel.”

  “You always hated me,”she fumed.

  “No. I always loved Jean Pierre. His wishes come first with me.”

  “Why is he doing this? Tell me the truth.”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Guess then.”

  “I suppose he’s tired of you.”

  “Has he told you he’s tired?”

  “Yes, Annalise, he’s told me for months.”

  “How could it be? I’ve given him everything.”

  “You’re a difficult woman, Annalise.” When she would have argued, he held up a hand, stopping her protest. “You are. Don’t deny it. You’re bossy and jealous and overbearing, and he’s no longer in the mood for your antics.”

  “I’ve caused no trouble! He has paramours around every corner, and I’ve never complained a single time.”

  “At the moment, with his pending business ventures, he’s under an enormous amount of pressure. He needs peace and quiet. He needs friendship and comfort. You bring too much drama into his life.”

  “All of a sudden, he’s decided this?” She tossed her hair, wanting Raven to look, wanting him to remember how beautiful she was. “Why now?”

  He didn’t reply, and her gaze became surly and cruel.

  “It’s Mademoiselle Teasdale, isn’t it? He’s keeping her instead.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Has she asked him to split with me? Was it her price for spreading her legs?”

  “Don’t be vulgar, Annalise. I don’t like it when you are.”

  “Is she coming with him? Is that why I must leave on Thursday? Her marvelous presence can’t be sullied by me. Is she insisting I depart before she arrives?”

  “You’re giving me a headache.”

  “If you send me to France against my will, I’ll simply go to the castle and wait for him there.”

  “The servants have their orders. They won’t let you in.”

  The remark was a slap in the face. The castl
e was the most exotic residence in the world, and though she’d understood that she shouldn’t feel attached to it, she’d begun to think of it as her own.

  She wasn’t some glorified hostess and housekeeper. She was mistress to Jean Pierre—the most fascinating, most dashing man who’d ever lived. If she wasn’t his mistress anymore, who was she? What facet remained about which she could preen and brag?

  No other man could ever match up to him. From here on out, it was a slide downhill until she landed at the bottom, squashed beneath some bald, boring dolt who smelled of bodily odor and talked about his wife while sawing away between Annalise’s shapely thighs.

  “I’ll get even with him,”she furiously warned. “I’ll make him sorry.”

  “You’re being ridiculous. Please go before I get angry.”

  “I will get even, Raven Hook. I swear it.”

  “Goodbye, Annalise. I’ll have a carriage ready at dawn on Thursday. Be prepared to leave so I don’t have to haul you out like a bag of flour.”

  Feeling murderous and aggrieved, she pushed back her chair and rose to her feet. “Tell him for me. Tell him he’ll be sorry.”

  “We’ve said everything that needs to be said. Go away!”

  She glared at him, anxious for him to grasp that she could be dangerous too, that she could terrorize as he and Jean Pierre could terrorize.

  But she couldn’t garner a reaction. He stared at her and saw a silly, impotent woman. He didn’t realize that she could fight back, that she could cause her own brand of mayhem.

  Didn’t he recollect that she knew many of Jean Pierre’s secrets? To whom might she tattle? What might she reveal? Wasn’t he worried?

  “My name is Annalise Dubois,”she said. “Don’t ever forget it. Don’t let Jean Pierre forget it either.”

  She whipped away and left, and she was visibly distraught, shaking and muttering to herself in a fashion that was humiliating.

  She hurried to the stairs so she could climb to her room and fume in private, but as she glanced up, Hedley was coming down again. Instantly, she masked her expression, hiding any trace of upset.

  He was a fool and a child, but he was captivated by her. He constantly regaled her with his exaggerated plans as to how he would eventually retrieve Bramble Bay from Jean Pierre.

  With Hedley being penniless, his boasting was humorous. He didn’t stand a chance against Jean Pierre, but he was so pathetically confident.

  Well, if Jean Pierre suffered a mishap, if he was arrested and hanged, wouldn’t Hedley be first in line to claim ownership of Bramble Bay? Jean Pierre was a criminal. If he was convicted of piracy, he couldn’t bequeath property to anyone. Wouldn’t it revert to Hedley?

  He’d be a landowner again, with a steady income and thriving estate. It wasn’t close to what Jean Pierre had possessed, but it was prosperous. And Hedley was an immature dunce who could be easily manipulated.

  If Annalise allied herself with him, she would control him. She would be in charge and able to make him behave as she intended. She wouldn’t have to put up with an arrogant ass like Jean Pierre who always thought he knew best.

  Hedley would be putty in her hands.

  “Hedley, darling,”she cooed, “how lovely to see you.”

  “Annalise! Hello.”

  “I must speak with you,”she said.

  She led him into a nearby salon. He was like a happy puppy, and he eagerly followed her in and shut the door.

  “What is it?”he asked.

  “I need you to take me to London tomorrow morning. At dawn.”

  “London. I hadn’t considered going.”

  “I have to meet with some important people, but I’ve never been to the city, and I’m nervous about traveling alone. I’d like you to escort me. Can you?”

  “Ah…yes, I suppose.”

  “And we have to sneak away unnoticed. It has to be our secret.”

  “All right. Why?”

  “I’ll tell you once we’re on the road.”

  “Tell me now.”

  “I can’t, except to say that I might have figured out how to have Bramble Bay returned to you.”

  He grinned. “Really? What about Jean Pierre?”

  “I think something bad is about to happen to him.”

  “What’s about to happen?”

  “When we’re on the road, Hedley, and far away from here. You can find out then.”

  She went to the door and crept into the hall. As she glanced back, he was slack-jawed with surprise, his mouth hanging open.

  He was such an unreliable, juvenile bungler. She could only hope that he would be silent for a few hours—until she could be certain Raven didn’t know where she was, when she’d left, or where she might be headed.

  For she was positive if he found out, she and Hedley would never make it to London alive.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “Raven?”

  “I’m here. Don’t be frightened.”

  Caroline rose up on an elbow to see him over by the window. He was leaned against the sill and gazing out toward the ocean. Dawn was approaching, but it was still dark, so he didn’t have much of a view.

  She’d been sleeping, but once she realized he’d left the bed, she’d immediately awakened.

  Since the day Archie had shown up at Bramble Bay, she’d been glued to Raven’s side. She was terrified Archie might sneak back, that he might catch her while Raven was looking the other way.

  Raven knew she worried over it, and he’d scold her—as if her distress was an insult to his ability to protect her—but she couldn’t stop fretting. Even though he swore she was safe, she’d written her London address on a piece of paper and slipped it into the pocket of one of his coats so he could find her if she vanished.

  They were carrying on like a married couple, as if Raven was her husband instead of Archie. She openly shared his room, not caring a whit what the servants thought about it.

  He suffered from insomnia, always vexed by important issues that weighed him down. He never confided in her, though, and she didn’t pry, for she was scared of what his explanations might be.

  She was living a life that only trollops were ever allowed. She drank and flirted and fornicated with a wild abandon, and she was having so much fun that she was definitely questioning why she’d spent so many years in moral drudgery.

  Mr. Sinclair was returning, and Caroline couldn’t guess what would transpire when he arrived. Everyone was supposed to be gone, but no one had departed—Mildred and Hedley included. Raven had informed the servants that they might be kept at their positions, so they were all waiting to learn their fates.

  As to Mildred and Hedley, he wasn’t concerned about their lack of planning and would be thrilled to set them out on the road at Mr. Sinclair’s order.

  Caroline hadn’t made plans either. She wanted to stay with Raven, but she was afraid to ask if she could. He seemed fond of her, but she had no idea if he would welcome a continuing connection. And really, it was risky to consider allying herself with him.

  She hadn’t discovered much about him or his family or even where he resided other than Mr. Sinclair’s home in France, the precise location of said home never being mentioned. She hadn’t a clue how he earned his income, except that he assisted Mr. Sinclair with his gambling.

  In light of all the ships they owned, she suspected he was a smuggler. How could a woman attach herself to such an enigmatic, dodgy fellow? Then again, when she’d wed Archie, he’d been a pillar of the community and look how that had ended.

  “Are you all right?”she inquired.

  “I couldn’t sleep.”

  She chuckled. “You never sleep. I don’t know how you keep going.”

  “Old habits. My mind is always racing, so I can’t calm myself enough to lie still.”

  He’d pulled on a pair of trousers, the front flap unbuttoned so they hung loosely from his hips. His chest was bare, his feet and calves bare. His forearm was pressed to the wood of the sill, his muscles ou
tlined in the moonlight.

  Butterflies swarmed in her belly. Prior to meeting him, she hadn’t understood that a man’s body could be so beautiful, so stirring.

  “I have to leave in a bit,”he said, glancing over at her.

  “Leave?” She sat up, the blankets pressed to her breasts. Did he mean forever? With no warning or notice?

  She must have appeared panicked, because he hastily added, “Just for a few hours. I have to take Annalise to Dover.”

  “Oh.” Her shoulders slumped with relief.

  “I’ll be back late.”

  “But you will come back?”

  “It’ll just be one day, Caroline. You’ll be fine.”

  “Of course I will be,”she firmly agreed. “Why are you taking Miss Dubois to Dover?”

  “John is sending her to France.”

  “Good. I don’t like her.”

  “Neither do I.”

  They shared a conspiratorial smile. Miss Dubois was rude and arrogant. She insulted the servants, issued frivolous demands, and complained constantly. She couldn’t go soon enough to suit Caroline.

  “He should be here tomorrow,”Raven said.

  “Mr. Sinclair?”

  “Yes. He’s on his way to England even as we speak.”

  “Will he bring Sarah with him?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “Will he have ruined her?”

  “I wouldn’t view it as a ruination. She’ll have been swept off her feet. There’d be no ruining involved.”

  “You men. So vain. So set on yourselves.”

  “With valid reason. Some of us are wonderful.”

  “Please spare me your egotistical drivel,”she scoffed, and they smiled again. “Then what? Once he arrives, what will happen to Sarah and me?” He didn’t reply, so she said, “I haven’t made any arrangements for myself.”

  “I realize that.”

  “Will I be tossed out of Bramble Bay?”

  “I’m not sure what John has decided.”

  “I thought you could read his mind.”

  “Usually, but not always.”

  He spun to peer outside, and he gazed toward the sea so longingly that she could sense his urge to be out on the water, to sail away and never come back to England, to her.