by Wendy Vella
“No, Samantha needs quiet and rest. We will come and visit tomorrow.” And I want to be alone for a while.
The children for once did not argue, and soon she, Lilly, and Dev were leading them down the stairs.
“Where is Cam?”
“Talking with Emily, and he is being nice,” Warwick said.
“All right, well he can find his own way home then.” Dev ushered them to the front door.
“Max is devilishly smart, Dev.”
“Is he? How did you come to meet him?” Essie said.
“He was walking along the path beside the park and Myrtle ran to greet him, and then I called out hello,” Somer said.
“And then I arrived,” Dorrie added, not wanting to be left out. “And we told him to ask us questions, and he did.”
Essie knew he could be kind to children, as evidenced by those he looked after. But what did he now think of her, and her family?
“He ran straight to the water, and tore off his coat and jumped in,” Warrick said. “He did not hesitate either, Essie.”
“What if he tells other people what he saw, Dev?” Essie whispered to her brother.
He took her hand and squeezed it. “I think we shall pay him a call, and thank him for what he has done. Only then will you feel calmer.”
“Oh no... I don’t think that is necessary.”
“No, it’s a good idea really. James will likely get to it, but not for some time, so we shall thank him on his behalf,” Lilly said. She then looked around her. “Where is Myrtle?”
“She is with Max. I heard her bark.”
“Are you sure, Warwick?” Essie’s heart sank when her little brother nodded.
Before she could stop them, her little sisters and brother had begun marching up to Max’s door.
“Come back here at once! We cannot simply arrive. It is... well, it is not done.”
“We have to retrieve our dog, surely, sister?” Dev placed a hand on her back, took his wife’s hand, and propelled her forward. “I’m not sure what is going on between you and Huntington, but I believe there is something.”
“What? No.” Essie shook her head. “There is nothing. He is of course grateful, as I saved his life.”
“I think you doth protest too much.”
Dear God!
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Max had left the duke’s house after Essie had got the child breathing. He wasn’t sure what had happened, but knew he’d witnessed something... some kind of miracle. He had seen dead people before, and that child, to his mind, had been in that state. Then Essie had told her family to form a circle, and touch each other, and she had breathed life into the child.
He shook his head. Max had tried to find a rational explanation for what he had seen. He’d heard of such things, that a person could be resuscitated, but never seen it done before. But there was more to the miracle he’d witnessed than that. He’d felt something in that room, as he had stood in tense silence beside the duke and Miss Tolly. Like he, they had not joined the circle. He had felt power flow as the Sinclairs had held hands.
And you are going mad, Huntington.
The bond between those people in that room had been undeniable. The connection they shared with each other was all-encompassing, and he had for those few precious moments felt part of it.
“Will that be all, Mr. Huntington?”
“Yes, thank you, Phillip.”
Moving to the windows now that he was warm and dressed in dry clothes, he looked to the street below.
Fear had dogged Max’s footsteps in his youth, and he had lived a life that he’d often thought resembled hell, but pulling that young girl from the water had shaken him. She had been terrifyingly limp in his arms. Looking down into her cold, lifeless face he’d felt a helplessness that he had long ago left behind. Why had seeing her in that condition upset him more than it should? She was nothing to him, surely? He’d seen people who had died from drowning before, even pulled dead boys from the water.
Max rarely felt fear, shame, or hurt anymore, and yet these bloody Sinclairs and Ravens were wrenching it from him far too often.
“Distance, Max. From this day forth, you must keep your distance.”
Essie had been magnificent. How could she believe she was not as special as her other siblings, when she was so much more than any person he had ever known?
When she had appeared, relief had made his knees weak. She would save the child, he had instantly known that. The woman could perform miracles; Max had seen them firsthand.
It was a strange thing, the bond these families shared. How was it that the elder Sinclair brothers had arrived at the Raven house at the exact time he and Essie had? Was their closeness such that they were aware when the others needed them? It did not sound feasible, and yet Max had seen much of the world, and discounted nothing without proof.
He now watched Essie, Lord and Lady Sinclair, and her siblings leave the duke’s house, each adult holding a child’s hand. Solemn-faced, they did not skip or smile like they had in the park, and he knew what had happened had scared them. He prayed this was the only fear they ever knew.
The children stopped outside his house and looked up to where he stood. Seconds later, the boy was walking toward it, and even three stories above them, he could see the horror on Essie’s face. She was saying something to Lord Sinclair, who shook his head and then propelled her to Max’s front door.
“Your family have come to retrieve you, Myrtle.”
The dog was sitting at his side, leaning into him as he scratched behind her ear. It was a strangely comforting feeling, and while he should not have let her follow him home, he had, because he wanted the companionship.
“Come along, you pesky animal.”
Max reached his front door at the same time as his butler.
“I have it, thank you, George.” He motioned him away.
Opening it, he looked down at the little people, and not, as he wanted, at the woman lurking some distance away.
“Hello. I see three Sinclairs on my doorstep.”
“Six,” Somer said. “Dev, Lilly, and Essie are behind us.”
Lifting his eyes, Max acknowledged them. “My lord, my lady, Miss Sinclair.”
“Forgive the intrusion, Mr. Huntington, but we wished to thank you for rescuing Samantha. She is very dear to us all. And also retrieve our dog, which I believe you have stolen.” Lord Sinclair was smiling, so his words had been intended as humorous.
“I’m sure if I were to steal a dog, it would be one with better manners than this one.” Max looked to where Myrtle was now seated on his boots, looking at her family.
“She likes you, and I’ve always found Myrtle a solid judge of character.”
Max wasn’t sure what the look in the other man’s eyes meant, so he looked at Essie, and saw the fear. Her hands were clenched at her sides, and her eyes were wide. Healing the child had shaken her, as helping Tiny and Peter had.
“How is the patient? Recovering, I hope?”
“She will b-be fine, thank you, Mr. Huntington.”
Did her family not see how she suffered after doing what she did?
“Allow me to commend you. What you did saved that child’s life, and while I do not understand what took place in that room, I know that she would not be alive were it not for you.”
“Th-there is nothing to explain, I—”
“My sister is a very talented healer, Huntington.”
“She certainly is that, my lord.”
The straw bonnet framed her pretty, pale face, and the lemon satin ribbon was the same color as the flowers on her white dress. Why was it that every look this woman wore was alluring? Wearing her worn dresses and wool hair ties she’d aroused him, and the effect had not eased upon seeing her dressed as an elegant young lady.
“Will you quiz us again, Max?” Somer’s voice drew his eyes away from Essie.
“Surely you have no wish for me to trounce you once more with my superior knowledge?”
“You only beat us because you cheated.”
Max placed a hand on his chest. “I beg your pardon. You said ask any questions. It is hardly my fault you know nothing about steam power.”
“That will change,” he heard Lord Sinclair mutter.
“Pardon?”
“They will now study everything they can on the subject, so brace yourself, Huntington, you will not win so easily next time.” The eldest Sinclair looked down at his siblings, and Max again saw the love this family shared.
What would it be like to be loved?
“James scolded Samantha for being reckless.”
“Thank you, Warwick, Mr. Huntington does not need to know all the details,” Lady Sinclair said.
“I am glad she is to suffer no ill-effects, then.”
“Samantha is very important to us,” Dorrie said.
“She’s all right when she’s not giggling and squealing,” Warwick added.
“She does not squeal, Warwick.”
“That will do, thank you, Somer.” With ease of familiarity, Lord Sinclair stepped in to stop the argument that was about to escalate.
“We will bid you good day, Mr. Huntington. Say your goodbyes, children.”
“Can we look in your house?”
“Dorrie!”
Max swallowed his smile at Essie’s horror.
“Of course, come in now if you like. Besides, I have something I wish to show Miss Sinclair.”
“What?” Her brows lowered.
“Come and have a look.”
Her brother was looking at her, and then his eyes transferred to Max. They weren’t noticeably cooler, and yet he saw the question in the green depths.
“Just a few minutes then, Huntington.”
Lady Sinclair moved to follow the children, which left Essex and her brother little choice but to follow. Max was fast beginning to like Lady Sinclair.
“Of course.”
He led the way, with the three little Sinclairs skipping at his side. They went down some steps and then along a hallway, and at the end he motioned Warwick to open a door.
“Oh my!”
He heard the awe in Essie’s words, and couldn’t help but smile. He’d had the same feeling when he’d first seen it, but only because he knew she’d love it.
The roof was glass, as were the walls on both sides. At the end there was a door that led out to the gardens. The room was large and the air heavy with the scent of exotic flowers, fruit trees, and herbs.
“May I offer this to you if you should need anything from it, Miss Sinclair, for your supplies.”
“Thank you.” The fear had been replaced by wonder, and that, Max thought, was an excellent thing.
Max had often contemplated if he should tell her about this place. Self-preservation had held his tongue.
“There are so many things here I could use.” Essie’s eyes were going everywhere. “I have searched London for some of what I see.”
Lord Sinclair moaned. His wife laughed and clapped her hands. “How wonderful, Essie dear, and so close to home. You will not need to travel hither and yon anymore for your herbs.”
“Is there a problem, my lord?” Max could see that the man still looked pained, and went to stand at his side as his wife and siblings went deeper into the conservatory.
“It has things that grow, Huntington. Have mercy, I will never get my sister out of here now.”
“Forgive me, my lord, but I knew of her gardens at Oak’s Knoll, and thought it would be of interest to her.”
The men stood and watched as she went from one side of an aisle to the other, looking everywhere. Seemingly he and her brother had been forgotten, which allowed him to observe her. When presented with such treasures, all else had paled into significance. She broke off leaves and chewed or sniffed them.
“You have twenty minutes and no longer,” Lord Sinclair said to his sister. “I will still have to drag her out of here.”
“Can I provide you with refreshment while you wait, my lord?”
Those green eyes turned on Max.
“No, but you can tell me what lies between you and my sister.”
“She saved my life,” Max said, holding his eyes. “I can never repay her for that. Without her, I would have surely died.”
“And you feel gratitude?”
Max nodded. He was not about to add more to that.
“Max, Dev! There is a statue of a naked man and woman back here!”
“Christ!” Lord Sinclair ran down an aisle. Max could hear Lady Sinclair giggling. He followed more slowly, taking the route that passed Essie.
“Please use whatever you wish.”
She was on her knees, uncaring that her skirts were getting dirty, grubbing about in the soil.
“Oh yes, thank you. I will, if you do not mind. There are some herbs here that I have been unable to locate.”
“You did not know that Lord Alverson had this here, then?”
She frowned, looking cross, and Max thought it was a better look than the fear. “No, and that displeases me hugely, as I once spoke with him about herbs, and even gave him a tonic for an ailment he was suffering from. Beastly man, how dare he keep this from me.”
“Perhaps he does not like to share?”
She was still frowning, and for once it was not because of him. In fact, Max realized that momentarily she had forgotten what lay between them. To have such a passion as she does must be a wonderful thing. What would it be like to be the sole focus of her passion? He’d experienced it once, and wasn’t sure he’d recovered fully.
“But herbs are for healing, and eating. Both of these things are meant to be shared. Knowledge gives us strength, and whoever planted these herbs knew what they were for, as this conservatory is filled with an extensive array of vegetation.”
“Not everyone is as kind and giving as you, Miss Sinclair.”
And just like that she remembered. The excitement went from her eyes, and suddenly she was guarded once more. Max hated to see it.
She got to her feet, ignoring the hand he held out to her. He smelled the herbs she now clutched, and clenched his fist to stop from brushing the dirt from her skirts.
“Thank you, Mr. Huntington. Now I know you have these herbs down here, I will send a maid to retrieve any I need.”
“What was that thing you did today, Essie? Breathing air into the girl’s lungs?” He had thought it strange at the time, but when she had started to breathe on her own, he’d known the action had saved the child’s life.
“I, ah, read a paper on it. It was first performed in 1744.”
“You read a great deal?”
She nodded.
“There is an extensive library here, if you wish to take a look.”
“Thank you, but I have plenty to read at the present time.”
He hated that cold, composed tone she retreated behind.
“What happened in that bedroom, Essie?” He touched her cheek briefly, needing the contact.
“I— Pardon?” She tried to step back, but had nowhere to go. “I just told you what I did.”
“I understand that. However, I felt something when you all touched each other. A charge of energy seemed to travel through me, and then you brought that girl back to life.”
The color that had risen in her cheeks drained away before his eyes.
“Th-that’s a strange th-thing to say, Mr. Huntington.”
“I mean you no harm, Essie, I merely wish to understand what I saw.”
Her fear confirmed his belief that what had taken place in that bedroom was not normal.
“We… we like to be close in times of trouble.”
“No, there was more to it than that, because if that is indeed the truth, then why were the duke and Miss Tolly excluded?”
“I-I have to go.”
He stopped her. “I saw your fear again after healing Samantha. Why do you not tell your family this happens to you?”
“I-it is nothing.”
He found her family before she did, and Max knew she was taking the time to regain control of herself.
“Her breasts were bare, Dev.”
“Yes, thank you, Warwick, I think we all saw that.”
Max heard the strain in Lord Sinclair’s voice. Lady Sinclair, however, was still laughing.
“The male was naked also, Dev.”
“We saw that too, Dorrie, thank you.”
“They are curious, Dev, let them look,” Lady Sinclair said, to which her husband shook his head.
“No. The questions will be endless, and I am not ready for that.”
“I’m ready to leave now,” Essie said from behind him. Turning, he saw she was once again composed.
Max took them back to the front door and watched them walk away, and only the dog threw him a last look before she fell in behind her family.
Closing the door, he wondered what secrets that family harbored. They were unusual, he could now not doubt that. The duchess seemed to have an uncanny ability to hear things no one else could. Then there were Lord Sinclair’s eyes; they were unlike any Max had seen before. And what of Cambridge Sinclair? He seemed to sniff the air a great deal.
“Hardly enough evidence to say they were strange, Max,” he reminded himself.
And yet he had seen them today. Seen them touch each other, and felt the power flow through him. He hadn’t felt afraid, or threatened by them; what he had felt was wonder. But now he wanted to know why.
CHAPTER TWENTY
“The Duke of Raven and Lady Samantha have called to see you, Mr. Huntington. They are at present in the upstairs salon.”
Max, who had been reading the morning paper, looked at his butler.
“You took them upstairs when I am seated downstairs?”
“It was the proper thing to do.”
“I’m sure it was,” Max said, rising. “You are far more proper than I, George.”
His butler managed a small smile at that.
“And are they in the formal salon, or the less formal one at the rear of the house?”