The Tigresse and the Raven (The Friendship Series Book 1)

by Julia Donner

  His quarry had finally noticed him enough to fear a direct confrontation, and Rave considered that a very good sign indeed. Anything was better than no contact at all as it had been after she disappeared from London.

  Rave felt assured that all would proceed as he had planned as long as he kept Cass in his house. He let her stew and simmer and made allies of Lady Duncan and Cassandra’s irreverent maid. Between the three of them, they plotted and exchanged ideas, all without Cassandra knowing, as she fumed in sullen solitude.

  But Cassandra wasn’t blinded by her emotions. She had too much time to think about them and suffered a prickle of suspicion every time her aunt or Tessa turned an indulgent smile her way. They acted far too condescending and content with her seclusion. Her martyrdom no longer impressed anyone. The boredom and restlessness increased by the hour, but she couldn’t think of anything to do about it.

  Cassandra studied Tessa, camped beside her bed, oozing solicitousness. Tessa’s mobcap-covered golden curls fell forward over her brow as she hunched over the alterations she was making to the shimmering gold material draped over her lap. The usually argumentative maid seemed lost in another world as she swiftly plied needle and thread.

  Cassandra glanced over the counterpane strewn with reading materials, all tossed aside. She wished she could get the stud ledgers but she’d be admitting boredom if she asked Tessa to fetch them from Ravenswold. The maid and her aunt already looked too pleased with themselves over something.

  “Tessa, I don’t like the look about you. Are you fostering thoughts of sainthood?”

  “What, miss?”

  “Never think for a moment that you’re fooling me with your games and treacle talk.”

  “Of course not, miss.”

  Cassandra expressed her disbelief with an unladylike snort. “You don’t fool me, Joan Tessart. You’re up to something.”

  “Whatever you say, miss.”

  “If I hear that one more time, I’m going to run screaming through the halls naked.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t do that, miss.”

  Temporarily defeated, Cassandra heaved a sigh. “Tell me what’s going forward downstairs.”

  “Why, all is being made ready for the great evening. The ballroom floor is being waxed and polished, so the master arranged for today’s entertainment to be held out-of-doors. The chandeliers were lowered early this morning. Such a project to clean them, you know! All the candles were replaced. Beeswax, of course. None of that nasty tallow.”

  “Tallow? In the hallowed halls of Ravencourt? Who would dare!”

  Unmoved by the sarcasm, Tessa gaily continued, “The hot houses are quite bare of flowers. The hall is bursting with blooms. So very lovely. You should see it. But then, we wouldn’t want you to put any strain on that ankle, now would we? Perhaps I should make up a nice soak for it.”

  Cassandra squinted at Tessa. “You and Aunt Jane think yourselves very clever, don’t you?”

  Tessa flooded her gaze with false compassion. “All consideration must be given to an invalid. Cook said she’d be pleased to make up a sustaining broth. She had mutton bones that would’ve boiled up quite nicely, but everyone below stairs quite agreed on the calf’s foot jelly instead.”

  “You know what you can do with your miserable concoctions.”

  “Such a sweet disposition, that’s what I tell them all below stairs. Miss Seyton is so brave! And then I shed a few tears when I say that part about you being brave. Very effective, you know. Then I tell them how you never complain and how grateful you are for the kind things everyone is doing for you in your hour of need. I announced this morning at breakfast how the gruel Cook specially made for you left you quite restored!”

  “You ate it to cover up for me, you traitor.”

  The soul of innocence, Tessa widened and blinked enormous blue eyes. “Couldn’t have them thinking that you were unappreciative, or spoiled, could we?”

  Tessa chuckled and bit off a thread. She held up the sparkling gown. “There now! Just a tuck needed here and there to make it fit like a glove.”

  “If I know you, you’ve got it so I’ll be popping out of the bodice.”

  “A proper bosom you have, miss. Why not show it to advantage?”

  “Complete exposure is not an advantage, Tessart, and I have enough to handle with Ravenswold on my scent.”

  “I wouldn’t be worrying about that,” Tessa mumbled, involved with stowing the thread and needle into a basket.

  Trying not to show her need to know, Cassandra attempted airy nonchalance. “Whatever do you mean by that?”

  “By what?”

  “You know, Tessa!”

  “Oh! Why, all I meant is that with the Four Eligibles under one roof, all the unmarried females in the county are in and out, making calls and such. Their mamas are shoving them through the doors at the most inconvenient hours. Mrs. Fetherton has had her girls here every day. The ready money is on the elder daughter to get a declaration from the earl at any moment. He’s in her pocket, they say.”

  A chill settled over Cassandra’s heart. She did her best to ignore it but was unable to stop the question. “Fetherton? Who is this Fetherton chit?”

  “The squire’s eldest daughter. Quite a beauty, but not old, though, like you. She’s just turned seventeen. The earl appears to favor her.”

  “Fudge! He’s merely amusing himself at my expense.”

  “Oh-ho! We’ve gotten quite bigheaded, haven’t we, Miss Cassy? Why should his lordship bother to make one such as you jealous? You haven’t even put forth a little finger to attach his interest. And there sits that fresh, young beauty, just out of the schoolroom, flirting and fluttering at him. In any event, why should you be thinking that he does the pretty with her to get your attention? You’re not even there!”

  Tessa ignored Cassandra’s smoldering glare and added, “Oh, and before I forget, I altered the black habit.”

  “What black habit? I don’t have a black habit!”

  “Oh, dear. Must’ve forgot to tell you. I let it slip that your lavender was in shreds—”

  “Let it slip? To whom?”

  “Why, it must have been to his lordship. Yes, I believe I did make mention of it directly to him, seeing that the black one belonged to his sister.”

  “You’ve gone too far this time.”

  Tessa set the basket aside. “Oh, but they’ve been having a lovely celebration. Lady Augusta, his lordship’s sister, you know, has finally squeezed out a boy.”

  “Squeezed? What a dreadful way to put it.”

  “Like it or not, she delivered up an heir. Fair ruins the figure, it does, growin’ them babies in yer guts.”

  “Joan Tessart, you are being deliberately crude in a pathetic attempt to evade the subject.”

  “What with her figure gone all out of proportion, I suspect that his lordship thought she’d never fit into it again. He had the niceness of mind and manners to hand it to me himself, saying that it would no longer be of any use to his sister, knowing that yours was finally ruined. Finally!”

  “It is not! And I won’t wear the black.”

  “Then you won’t ride,” Tessa replied, saucy and smug.

  “I will so! I’ll wear the lavender, torn and dirty, if I must.”

  “Can’t.”

  “Why ever not?”

  Tessa confessed with unholy relish, “Because I burnt it, that’s why.”

  “Tessa!”

  “Let me show you the habit.” Tessa hopped up and disappeared into the dressing room before Cassandra could say another word, if she’d been able. By the time Tessa returned, Cassandra had cooled but still burned with some very decided ideas.

  Tessa displayed the elegant garment of lush black velvet over her arm. “See the lovely handwork on the lapels, all those twining flowers and leaves and acorns. The silver thread looks so very nice on the black. But the waist needed taking in ever so much. She must be of the same height. The length is perfect.”

  In a d
angerous mood, Cassandra murmured, “Hadn’t you heard? They grow them big in Berkshire.”

  Tessa peeked up. She’d heard that tone often enough, but this time, the implications made her leery. Cassandra thoughtfully drummed her fingers on the open page of the magazine on her lap, and Cassandra thought, the girl should be afraid. Very afraid.

  A knock on the sitting room door provided Tessa with an escape. She draped the habit over a chair and fled the bedroom to answer the caller.

  Cassandra slipped off the bed and crept to the bedchamber door. She doubted Asterly would risk being caught speaking with her in her private rooms. Curiosity and boredom compelled her to discover the identity of the muffled, masculine voice on the other side of the door. A servant or Ravenswold? She pressed her nose to the crack in the door and peered through. Cassandra jumped back with a startled squeak when Tessa shoved the door open.

  “Oh! What are you doing here?” Tessa loudly asked, ignoring Cassandra’s frantic hand waving gestures to be quiet. “His lordship is here, asking after your health.”

  “Tell him I’ve expired!” Cassandra distinctly cried. She stamped her foot when she heard a rumbling laugh on the other side of the door.

  Cassandra jerked Tessa closer and whispered in the maid’s ear, “That is Ravenswold out there, isn’t it?”

  “Didn’t I just say it was? And he can hear every word.”

  “Then he must know that I am quite incapacitated,” Cassandra shouted and made a quick dash for the bed but not before the bedchamber door was swept open.

  Cassandra halted in the process of climbing back onto the bed. She gaped at the man invading her bedchamber. Ravenswold smiled his deceptively placid grin. He glanced over her nightgown all the way down to her uncovered feet. She felt the burn of his gaze on her bare ankles race up her legs and flush across her torso. The skin on her arms tingled. His study of her ankles shifted to her gaping mouth.

  Still standing in the doorway, he casually turned his back on her dishabille. “You will forgive the intrusion, Miss Cassandra,” he said, sounding not in the least bit sorry, “but I thought I heard distress in your voice. I came to help you into the adjoining room, if you wish.”

  Not waiting for a response, he ordered, “Tessart, get her a wrap, please, and open the sitting room windows.”

  Sketching a curtsy, Tessa bustled into action, cramming a staring and astounded Cassandra into a flowery chiffon robe that had been a birthday present from Lady Duncan and the only presentable receiving robe Cassandra owned.

  Stunned by the unlikely presence of her host in her bedchamber, and Tessa’s complete willingness in the matter, she was still speechless and gaping, when Ravenswold turned around at Tessa’s murmur.

  Cassandra’s heart thundered in her chest as Ravenswold came to the bed. He lifted her up in his arms and carried her into the sitting room. After gently depositing her on a divan, he withdrew a few steps, while Tessa arranged a lap robe and selected a pillow to use as support for the injured ankle.

  The arrangement of the injured member took a few minutes of work. Tessa had to recall which ankle Cassandra was using that day. After Tessa had the left foot propped up, she changed her mind and yanked out the pillow to insert it under the right.

  When Ravenswold pressed a hand over his mouth to smother a laugh, Cassandra silently murdered her devious maid with a lethal stare.

  “That will be quite enough, Tessart.” Before I throttle you, left unsaid.

  Tessa bobbed a curtsy and took herself off to a window seat, as far away as she could get and still be in the room. Ravenswold brought up a chair, placed it near the divan and waited for permission to be seated. When Cassandra jerked a nod, he sat, carefully arranging his coat tails.

  She couldn’t help but notice he’d forsaken his fond habit of wearing informal dress—the usual leathers and top boots. Today he wore correct morning attire, sporting a dashing waistcoat of gold and olive stripes. His pantaloons molded to his long legs like a second skin, outlining the contours of rigid muscle developed from hours in the saddle and tramping fields. A single gold watch chain had been allowed to drape from a vest pocket, softening the severe cut of the bottle-green coat. A solemn jade pin peeked from the snowy folds of his neckcloth. Pale yellow gloves complemented the ivory pantaloons. He looked at Cassandra with an expectant expression that made it her responsibility to open the conversation. She decided she might as well do so, since she had plenty to say.

  “Am I to thank you, sir, for invading my bedchamber, manhandling my person and compromising my reputation?”

  Persistently blind to her outrage, he smiled and tugged off his gloves. “I assure you that it was no trouble at all to carry you in. You should’ve known that I would do my possible. And to answer your unspoken question, I feel remarkably fit. The weather is at its most pleasant. My guests are grieving for your company and extend to you their fondest regards and wishes for a speedy recovery. My sister has considerately delivered unto us a boy. He’ll be christened next month with my father’s name. I am in no need of refreshment at this time, and I believe that covers the usual pleasantries, does it not?”

  “You forgot to say ‘You’re welcome’ when I didn’t thank you for the habit.”

  He dipped his head in a bow. “Your humble servant in all things, ma’am.”

  “I don’t plan to wear it, you know.”

  “You will,” he replied, wonderfully unconcerned.

  He crossed a leg and began to lazily swing a glossy Hessian. He stopped momentarily to inspect it for flaws then lifted his gaze to her. His smile was angelic.

  “I cannot accept the habit, my lord!”

  “Tut, Miss Cassandra, the habit is neither bribery nor charity. ‘Tis but my first step to a cleaner, more religious life. I believe the Bible mentions something or other about not wasting. Tsk, I must pay more attention this coming Sunday.”

  “I should like to tell you what you might do with the blasted thing.”

  “Come-come, Miss Cassandra, you must accept. Can you not find it in your heart to help the church save one more pathetic sinner?”

  “A more doubtful pursuit I cannot imagine.”

  “Poor Miss Seyton. Has your throbbing ankle left you in a fit of blue devils? Tessart, why not run down and see if Cook has something to bring the bloom back into your lady’s sadly faded complexion.”

  Cassandra’s cheeks burned. “Joan Tessart, you will not desert me!”

  “I’ll only be a moment, miss.”

  The door latch clicked shut. Cassandra slowly returned her fulminating gaze to Ravenswold, who looked as though he had downed a whole pitcher of cream.

  “Saucy little baggage, isn’t she?” he happily noted.

  “You should know,” she replied as nastily as she could, while wondering whatever had happened to the stiff-necked and stilted fellow she met at Lady Wethermore’s.

  He reminded her of Mutual Friend when he surveyed her through an imaginary quizzing glass. “Asterly, Sir Harry and Freddy send you their compliments.”

  “I am gratified to have been distinguished by the too kind attentions of the Eligibles.”

  “Ah, yes, I’d forgotten that we’re called that. Bainbridge also asked to be remembered. Have you known him long?”

  Cassandra hesitated. Had there been something veiled and dark in his tone when he asked about Bainbridge?

  She pretended an interest in the spectacular view beyond the mullioned windows. “I’ve known him since childhood. His family has an estate that borders Tamer Hall. We often played together as children. He’s a very sweet-natured person. I am honored to call him friend.”

  “I don’t believe that I have ever heard Bainbridge described as sweet-natured.”

  Amazed, she stoutly defended her childhood playmate. “And I’ve never known him to be otherwise!”

  She regretted the sharpness of her remark when his gaze hardened.

  Chapter 20

  Rave tamped down a sudden surge of jealousy. He
forced a smile, remembering exactly how ‘sweet-natured’ Bainbridge had been two days ago.

  His male guests attended a local mill where Cassandra’s childhood companion gleefully accepted a challenge from the local champion. The playmate of her youth had to be pulled off the prizefighter before Lord Bainbridge pounded him into a jelly. Carefully respected by his male peers, Bainbridge had a reputation for unpredictability and quite often went out of control in a fight.

  And Cassandra talks about him with affection, like a cuddly puppy, Rave brooded, and then realized that it was his turn to speak. He came here to set a trap and better get on with it.

  “Sir Harry professes to be in a sympathetic decline over what he calls ‘Miss Cassandra’s cruel absence’ and Freddy hopes you’ll be available for the ball tomorrow evening.”

  “Does he?”

  “Harry placed a wager, betting that since you’re in the country, you would condescend to dance.”

  “He’s going to lose. I’m not attending. The ankle pains, you see.”

  Rave stared at her lips, a beguiling pink, but at the moment thinned and pressed into an unhappy line. He had her on the run, by gad. He felt a corner of his mouth quirk up in a half smile.

  “I suggest you be there, Cass.”

  Cassandra’s heart thumped and her mouth went dry. She jerked her gaze away from the heat in his eyes and looked blindly out the window. “Sorry to disappoint. I have my heart set on being disobliging. There’s little you can do about it.”

  She feared Rave noticed the breathy sound of her words and knew it when he warned in a voice dark and silky, “I’ll drag you down, if necessary.”

  Cassandra’s temper swelled. She accepted the challenge and with forced calm asked, “Do you think so? You and Aunt Jane, not to forget that traitorous maid of mine, consider yourselves so very clever. Well, I won’t be compromised. If you think to humiliate me, or cozen me into some form of inducement by charging into my rooms, think again!”