Lips thinning mutinously, Sean cast him a defiant glance. “Or what? What will you do if I refuse, brother?” Flinging himself from the chaise, Sean began to pace. “You are hardly in a position to dictate to me when your own reputation is so tenuous. I could ensure you have more to occupy your time than needlessly defending the heartless bitch you married.”
Kell gritted his teeth at the word. “Meaning?”
Coming to a halt, Sean gazed down at him in triumph, his green eyes glittering. “Meaning that I need only find a magistrate and suggest how dear Uncle William met his demise. If I claimed I saw you kill him, you would have more trouble than you could deal with. You would likely be facing prison.”
Kell’s stomach clenched savagely, the depth of his brother’s hostility like a knife to his gut.
For a moment he stared at the man standing before him. It was as if he no longer knew his brother. Sean had become more and more distraught over the past year, and truly violent since his impressment, but he’d never threatened outright betrayal.
Regardless…Even if the bond between them frayed beyond repair, Kell knew he could no longer overlook his brother’s violence or tolerate his excesses.
“Claim whatever you will,” Kell finally replied grimly, “but that won’t change my intentions of sending you to Ireland.”
His face turning red with anger, Sean brandished his fists. “This is all your fault, you know. You promised Mama you would protect me. But you didn’t protect me, did you, Kell? You let Uncle William do whatever he wanted to me.”
Furious himself, sick at heart, Kell drew a labored breath. He would spend the rest of his life trying to make up for his failure, but he wouldn’t relent. Sean had become too dangerous. “Yes, I am to blame for not protecting you,” he declared with quiet vehemence. “And I will never forgive myself. But there is no way for the past to be undone. If there were…” His own fists clenched. “I would gladly have taken your place, you know very well.”
A grimace crossed his brother’s face. “You would never have found yourself in my place in the first instance. You would not have let that bastard touch you. You would have fought him.” His expression of anger suddenly crumpled. “I’ve always been so much weaker than you.” Turning away, he sank onto the chaise again, burying his face in his hands.
Kell felt his own anger abate a degree at Sean’s desolation. He leaned forward in his chair, searching for the right words. “Sean…can’t you see what is happening to you? You are letting the past destroy you.”
Reaching up, Sean clutched at his hair. “I know,” he said hoarsely. “Sometimes I can’t help myself. There is this devil screaming inside my head…making me want to lash out, to hurt someone, to hurt you.”
Anguish speared through Kell, along with a raw desire to protect his brother. “We will get you help. There are other doctors-”
“No! I won’t have more quacks poking and prodding at me, telling me my mind is diseased.” After a moment, Sean looked up, tears making his green eyes shimmer. “I’m sorry, Kell,” he said in a low voice. “I didn’t mean what I said. I am an ungrateful wretch. God, please forgive me… It is just that I…loved Raven. I was devastated when you chose her over me. And now she has turned you against me.”
Kell ran a hand raggedly through his own hair at his brother’s pleading tone. “I didn’t choose her willingly, Sean. And having her come between us is the last thing I would ever want. But I can’t stand by and allow you to hurt her. Can you understand that?”
“Yes.” The word was a mere whisper.
“Swear to me you will leave her alone.”
“I…I swear.”
Kell could feel his brother’s bleakness, his misery. Sean was in anguish, his better nature fighting the demons inside him.
Rising, Kell crossed to the chaise and pressed a hand to Sean’s shoulder. “You need to get away. If you stay here, you’ll only be tormented by the past.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” he said dully. “But where would I go?”
“I told you, to Ireland. To the farm. The breeding program was to be your responsibility, remember?”
The horse farm Kell had purchased near Dublin boasted prime breeding stock that had already resulted in several promising racers. Not that he cared much about racing or the Turf. But since Sean loved horses so deeply, Kell had hoped to provide him an interest as well as a refuge.
“Will you come with me?” Sean asked wistfully.
Kell’s stomach twisted again. Sean sounded like a young boy again, like the beloved brother he’d once known. “I regret that I can’t. I have obligations here. My club…”
“And Raven Kendrick.” Sean’s mouth momentarily hardened.
“Yes. Raven as well. But that doesn’t mean I care for you any less. Sean, you must get away, for your own sake.”
“Very well. If that will make you happy, I will go,” Sean said quietly, the dismal look of defeat in his eyes.
It was nearly midnight when Kell reluctantly climbed the stairs, heading for his wife’s bedchamber. Raven would be surprised that he’d returned home from his club so much earlier than usual, and even more surprised when he approached her. But he owed her yet another apology for his brother’s savage conduct.
Kell moved slowly down the dimly lit hall, his thoughts still spinning around his confrontation with Sean this afternoon and the angry threats his brother had made. Their clash had dredged up dark memories of the night their uncle died.
Six months after they’d fled England, William had tracked them down. Kell knew he would never forget that night. He’d spent most of the evening gaming, milking a winning streak, trying to add to their meager savings. He returned to their stark lodgings in the wee hours of the morning to find Sean sobbing out his heart over their uncle’s bloody body.
“It was an accident, Kell, I swear! I didn’t mean to hurt him. I only meant to make him stop touching me.”
Bit by bit Kell coaxed the story from his trembling brother. William apparently had pursued them to Ireland, concerned by the appearance that his underage nephews refused to live with him, as well as worried that they would divulge his homosexuality, a hanging offense. When William demanded the brothers return home and began shaking him, Sean revolted, unable to bear his touch. He’d stabbed William in the chest with Kell’s own rapier.
Kell couldn’t totally blame his fourteen-year-old brother, for he likely would have killed Sean’s abuser himself, had he been present. The boy’s explosive reaction was self-defense, he was almost certain.
Determined to shield his brother from further suffering, Kell disposed of the body on a deserted stretch of road outside Dublin, making William’s death appear to be highway robbery. The investigation that followed pointed accusing fingers at Kell, bringing to light his violent history with his uncle, but the authorities could find no real proof. He refused to deny the rumors that he was the murderer, though. Better to take the blame himself than to have suspicion fall on his young brother.
Even so, Sean had never fully recovered. Having his uncle’s death on his conscience, in addition to his sordid shame, had nearly destroyed him-a torment of the soul that no brotherly words of comfort, no passage of time, could totally assuage.
Kell squeezed his eyes shut as he paused before Raven’s bedchamber door. Despite all his efforts, Sean’s despondence had been inconsolable.
They’d remained in Ireland for two more years before deciding to make a fresh start where the gaming was more profitable. Returning to England, they settled in London. Kell hoarded his winnings and eventually, after a half dozen more years, amassed the funds to open a private gaming club, where the more adventurous members of society came to gamble.
The dark rumors had followed him, however. He still couldn’t refute them without implicating his brother. Nor could he divulge Sean’s terrible secrets. But he could at least try to make Raven understand and win her sympathy.
A light shone beneath her door, and Kell rapped soft
ly. She was reading in bed, he saw when she bid entrance. The startled look on her face clearly proclaimed how unexpected his visit was. Hurriedly hiding her book, she snatched up the covers to her chin, concealing her nightdress from view.
Kell hesitated, wondering if he might be making a mistake, holding this interview in her bedchamber. But this was his best chance to speak to her in private.
“Is something wrong?” she asked worriedly.
“I came to apologize for Sean’s behavior this afternoon,” Kell said, shutting the door quietly behind him.
She stared at him warily as he crossed the room to her. Kell found himself gratified that she didn’t want him there any more than he wanted to be there.
When she remained silent, he pressed his advantage and sat beside her on the bed. Raven froze at his nearness, Kell noted with satisfaction. It would behoove him to keep her on the defensive.
“It is no excuse, I know,” he began, “but I want you to understand something about Sean, how he became the way he is.”
“What do you mean?”
“For some years now he has suffered periods of depression, of melancholy. When he falls into one of his black moods, he won’t eat or sleep, and he drinks far too much. But until his impressment, I truly thought he had his demons under control.”
Kell paused, letting his words sink in. “When he disappeared last June, I was frantic, Raven. I spent months searching for him before I uncovered the harbor manifest of a naval vessel that listed Sean’s name as one of the crew. I hired a private schooner and went after him.
“When I found him he was shackled in the hold, wallowing in his own excrement. His back was a bloody strip of flesh. He had been flogged till his throat was too raw to scream.”
Kell found his own throat closing at the savage memory. “He’s my brother, Raven.” His fingers curled involuntarily into fists. “Perhaps you can understand my grief at finding him so broken.”
“Yes-” she murmured.
“And can you imagine the pain he suffered?”
Her gaze lowered to avoid his penetrating one. “Yes…I can imagine.”
“It sent Sean over the edge, Raven.”
“And you expect me to forgive him because of that?” she asked, her voice barely audible.
“No. Not forgive. But I hope you will have an inkling of what made Sean the way he is now. How deep despair can drive a man to do unspeakable things. He is ill, Raven. How could anyone be in his right mind after that horror?”
When she didn’t speak, Kell put a finger under her chin to make her look at him. “What he needs most is time to heal. I am sending him to Ireland. He won’t bother you again.”
“Thank you.” She shuddered. “I would be happy not to be required to deal with him again.”
“You won’t have to.”
Her blue eyes were dark and solemn as she gazed back at him. Kell suddenly found himself aware of the intimacy of the circumstances. His wife was in bed, dressed in her nightclothes, her midnight hair spilling about her shoulders, the lamplight casting a golden glow over her fine-boned face. Her high-necked nightdress was unrevealing, true, and mostly concealed from view by the covers, and yet he knew very well what lay beneath.
Kell vividly remembered her nude body from their wedding night. He remembered her breasts, licking them, sucking them, teasing them. He remembered her slender legs and how she had mounted him… Instantly he grew hard, and he swore under his breath.
Needing a distraction, he glanced down to where the book she’d been reading was peeking out from the covers. The jeweled cover sparkled in the lamplight. Reaching over her, he picked it up to examine it. He had no doubt he was seeing a magnificent and rare artifact.
“Is this the book you told me about?” he asked. “The erotic journal your mother left to you?”
Her face flushed. “Y-yes.”
His gaze dropped involuntarily from her rosy cheeks to her mouth. He remembered kissing that delectable mouth, sliding his tongue deep inside to taste her, to drink of her, to steal her breath. He remembered how she had responded, her lips parting on a strangled sob as her pleasure peaked…
Kell drew a sharp breath, knowing he had to leave. “Perhaps some day you might allow me to read it. It would be intriguing to discover if I could learn a thing or two about lovemaking.”
“I suppose…if you wish,” she stammered.
He could tell he had caught her off guard and realized it was a victory of sorts. He would continue to keep his beautiful wife off her guard if he could manage it. He had spent too much time of late in that position himself. Ever since laying eyes on Raven, in fact.
Steeling his loins, Kell bent down and pressed an intentionally provocative kiss to her forehead. “Sleep well, vixen.”
She was still staring after him when he let himself from her bedchamber by way of the dressing room door.
Chapter Twelve
“Thank you, O’Malley,” Raven murmured when the groom had assisted her into the sidesaddle.
After arranging her skirts, she drew her cloak tight against the frigid morning air and took up the reins, eager to be off for her daily ride in the park. The moment O’Malley had mounted his own hack, Raven set out at a brisk trot, with the groom following close behind.
She didn’t expect to meet Brynn since her friend had another engagement this morning. But she hoped to find Dare, for she had an alarming report to discuss with him: an ugly rumor that concerned her husband.
She hadn’t spoken much to Kell during the past week, not since the night he had come to her bedchamber to discuss his brother. Except for passing him on the stairs, she hadn’t even seen him. The duty of providing her escort to various social functions had fallen to her friends.
Unaccountably Raven found Kell’s deliberate absence bothersome. Restlessness was nothing new to her, but she’d felt an unusual despondency of late. She tried to explain her feelings away, telling herself that her low spirits had nothing to do with her husband’s pointed neglect. After all, Kell was only adhering to the bargain they had struck.
There were countless other possible reasons for her melancholy, the most logical being that with the scandal, she now found herself on the fringes of the high society that she’d been such an integral part of until now.
Or perhaps her blueness could be attributed to the winter weather, which was remarkably cold, even for late November.
Or it was her apprehension over Sean Lasseter. Raven frequently found herself glancing nervously over her shoulder, seeing threats in the shadows, fearful that he would assault her again, even though Kell had assured her otherwise.
Or it could simply be due to loneliness. Admittedly she felt more alone than at any time since her arrival in England. Her grandfather had departed London for his own estate in East Sussex, while Raven remained in town for appearance’s sake. She planned to join her grandfather for Christmas, but that was still several weeks away.
At least she had O’Malley. It was comforting to have him nearby, just as it was a solace to have Brynn and Lucian and Dare-her stalwart champions and dearest friends-stand by her. But still Raven couldn’t deny her stark feeling of isolation. The nights were the worst, when she lay staring restlessly at the canopy above her bed. Not even her pirate lover could console her, for oddly, she had trouble summoning him. When she closed her eyes to imagine him, all she saw was Kell.
With her uncertain future stretching out before her, empty, pointless, without any goal to strive toward, she felt keenly alone and at a loss, regardless of how fiercely she scolded herself for falling victim to self-pity.
She should be counting her blessings, Raven knew. While her dreams of making a titled match were crushed, while the scandal had resulted in a great many closed doors, she had survived. And compared to many of her peers, she was actually well off. She had contracted a marriage in name only, with no dire risk of overwhelming love or obsessive passion to threaten her. And as the wife of a wealthy, indifferent husband, she ha
d complete freedom to do as she pleased.
But still she found herself missing Kell. He had startled her the night he came to her room, especially when he bent to give her an unexpected kiss.
“Sleep well, vixen,” he’d said.
But she hadn’t slept. She had tossed and turned for hours, remembering the way his eyes had darkened when they scrutinized her concealing nightdress; remembering his sudden interest when he had spied the journal and her acute embarrassment at being caught reading it.
She had put away the journal after his visit, for the erotic passages only aroused her and reminded her of the physical relations that were missing in her marriage. But once or twice when she had heard Kell come in late at night, she lay there in bed, aware that she had a husband in the very next room, her body throbbing shamelessly for him… She pictured his magnificent nudity when she’d surprised him at his bath… Wondered how she would react if he returned to her bedchamber to claim his marital rights.
But he never came to her room again.
No doubt Kell was occupied with his club, but Raven couldn’t even be certain of that. She had shared some of her most private secrets with him-about the journal, about her fantasy lover-and still she knew so little about him.
Moreover, yesterday she was forcibly reminded of her obligations to Kell when she learned of a worrisome development.
According to Brynn, someone had begun spreading unsavory rumors about the honesty of Kell’s gaming club. Raven could only suspect the gossip was the work of the Duke of Halford, since he had threatened to ruin the blackguard who’d stolen his bride.
When she reached Hyde Park, however, there was no sign of Dare, so she enjoyed an easy gallop along Rotten Row. It was perhaps a half hour later when she spied the marquess riding toward her. She barely waited for his charming greeting before she brought up the matter of her former betrothed’s possible vindictiveness.
To Raven’s dismay, Dare only confirmed her fears.
“Yes, I’m afraid Halford has been disparaging your husband’s club. He has persuaded a number of his acquaintances to shun it, claiming the Golden Fleece is living up to its name-fleecing its customers.”
Ecstasy n-4 Page 17