A Sinner No More

by Kelly Boyce

  She would what? The question was not one she could answer with any clarity, other than to say there must be more to life than what she had thus far experienced. But what that something was remained as elusive as smoke caught on a breeze.

  Lord Hawksmoor entered the room with much less fanfare though his presence dominated in a quiet, much stealthier way. It slid in around her feet then twisted and wound itself up her legs, hips, and arms. It seeped into her skin until it filled every part of her inside and out.

  Miss Caldwell, who continued to insist upon being called Rosalind, walked directly to Lady Henrietta with her hands stretched outward. “Lady Henrietta, tell me how your great-aunt fares. I heard the upsetting news and hoped to arrive to much better.”

  Lady Henrietta smiled, seemingly at ease in Rosalind’s presence. Not that it was difficult. The young woman had the ability to make everyone—peer or commoner—feel as if they all stood on equal footing and held her full attention. And she did all this with a warmth and sense of purpose few women of Madalene’s acquaintance possessed.

  “She is well and quite perturbed that my brother insists she stay abed for the day. I suspect by tomorrow she will be out paying calls and showing the world she is right as rain.”

  “Capital news,” Lord Hawksmoor said.

  Lady Henrietta became shy again and offered a brief curtsey without meeting Lord Hawksmoor’s gaze. “Thank you, my lord. I will send her your good wishes.”

  “And Miss Cosgrove,” Rosalind left Lady Henrietta and came to take Madalene’s hands in welcome. “How fortunate for her that you were there, although I hear Lady Susan created quite the ruckus and practically had you ousted from the Lindwells’ home. I swear, that woman becomes ever more unpleasant as each day passes. One day soon, all of her pettiness will come home to roost, mark my words.”

  “I hope I am there to see that day,” Madalene said, not bothering to disguise her newfound animosity. While this had been her first run-in with the Duke and Duchess of Franklyn’s only daughter, she had heard the stories of past escapades meant to hurt others of her acquaintance. She had been a thorn in everyone’s side for too long. “It was the height of embarrassment being shuttled out of the Lindwells’ house as if I were a leper. Had it not been for Major Gibbons and his sister offering me a proper escort home, I am certain I would have been made to leave by the servant’s entrance.”

  Which is where she should have left, given she was but a housekeeper, yet—

  Yet what? She furrowed her brow as the thought entered her head, strange and unexpected. The fact of the matter was, she did not feel like a servant. Certainly, the Bowens had never treated her as such. Yes, she had a job to do, but Mr. Bowen, having grown up as ward of Lord and Lady Ellesmere before becoming Lord Ellesmere’s man of business, did not care for such division in his home. It was completely unorthodox, and likely shocking to the peers of his acquaintance, but he insisted all of his employees be treated with the same respect as anyone who walked through his front door. It was part of what made working at Northill such a pleasing affair. She would miss it terribly when she left.

  “I am pleased to hear you arrived home without mishap, Miss Cosgrove.”

  Lord Hawksmoor offered her a brief smile and Madalene realized in praising Major Gibbons; she negated to thank the one person who had first offered her a way out. “I should extend a thank you to you as well, my lord, for offering to see me home. I am sorry I could not take you up on it. I always find your company most satisfying.”

  “Most kind of you to say, but I should not have made such an offer. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I feared, as you did, the Lindwells would cast you out into the street and only wished to see you safe. Thankfully, one of the Miss Lindwells had the good sense to ensure both your safety and your reputation remained intact.” Then one side of his mouth lifted into a crooked smile and a gleam sparked in his green eyes. “Even if it meant Major Gibbons got to do the honors instead of me.”

  Rosalind turned to face him. “You do not care for Major Gibbons, my lord?”

  “I have only just become acquainted with him, but I can find nothing about him that brings him into my good favor.”

  “Does his delivery of Miss Cosgrove safely home not count in his favor?” Lady Henrietta asked, sweeping an arm toward the sitting area, indicating everyone should take a seat.

  Lord Hawksmoor took the armchair that separated the two short sofas. “I believe he had ulterior motives.”

  “Indeed?” Rosalind leaned forward, obviously intrigued. “And what ulterior motive might the major have had?”

  “To court our Miss Cosgrove.”

  Our Miss Cosgrove, as if she somehow belonged to them. To him. Such claim of ownership should have irritated her, but instead it filled her with unexpected warmth. A sense of belonging she had not experienced since being befriended years earlier by the second son of an earl.

  Lady Henrietta forgot her shyness for the moment and caught Madalene’s gaze. “Is it true, Miss Cosgrove? Has the major expressed an interest? My heavens, Auntie will be over the moon to hear such wonderful news.”

  The exasperated expression on Lord Hawksmoor’s handsome face, however, clearly indicated he did not view such attentions on behalf of Major Gibbons at all wonderful. The idea that Lord Hawksmoor might be even the smallest bit jealous over Major Gibbons’s possible interest thrilled Madalene, but she quickly tamped the emotion down. While she had spent the past little while being treated as an equal in the Bowen household, she was not. She was a servant. And when her time at Northill came to an end, she would, at most, be a headmistress to a school, should she choose to accept the position. Future earls did not marry commoners. It simply wasn’t done.

  “Major Gibbons did ask me to join him and his sister two days hence at St. James Park to go skating.” The invitation had taken her by surprise, coming at the end of such an eventful and upsetting night.

  Lord Hawksmoor did not appear pleased. “And you said no, of course.”

  “On the contrary, I accepted.”

  The tea and biscuits arrived, giving Madalene something else to do as she offered to pour the tea. Unfortunately, it did not stop Lord Hawksmoor from expressing his views on the subject.

  “But you only just met. You hardly know the man. He could be…he could be a nefarious sort, or a depraved lunatic, or—”

  “Good heavens, Lord Hawksmoor!” Rosalind let out a laugh. “You would have Major Gibbons in Bedlam before you finish that sentence. I am certain if he had any inclinations toward lunacy our Prime Minister would not see fit to have him on his staff, wouldn’t you think?”

  Lord Hawksmoor reached out and took the tea from Madalene, his gaze fixed upon her as he delivered his answer. “Lunacy is not always readily apparent.”

  A chill swept Madalene as the tips of their fingers brushed against each other. The reference to his brother was unmistakable and the images of that hideous night even more so. She shoved the ugly thoughts to the dark recesses of her mind and turned away from him, but the truth followed her back to her seat.

  Lord Hawksmoor was right. She had not seen the depths of Phillip’s madness. Not at first. In hindsight, there had been hints. The disturbing intent he displayed in tormenting his younger brother. The leering looks he had given her, sideways remarks made in her presence, though not directly to her. Whenever he entered a room, her instinct whispered she should make haste to leave. There had been something there, something sinister lurking beneath the surface. But it wasn’t until the night he attacked her that she saw the true face of evil.

  “Lord Hawksmoor makes a good point,” Lady Henrietta said, a mix of sadness and anger twisting around her words. “I had thought Lord Pengrin the best of men, as had my brother. We were both horribly mistaken in this estimation.”

  “Well, this has become a rather maudlin conversation,” Rosalind said. “And I cannot see what harm can come to Miss Cosgrove on a crowded skating pond. I assume Major Gibbons’s sister will come
along to chaperone?”

  “Yes,” Madalene answered, a fact that filled her with no joy. Mrs. Chambers had been less than pleased with the request, if her expression had been any indication. But Lady Henrietta had already informed her that Mrs. Chambers’s late husband had gambled away much of their income, leaving her little in the way of inheritance upon his death. She lived on the largess of her brother and therefore was at his mercy. Not that Major Gibbons appeared to mistreat her in any way. If anything, he was most considerate toward her.

  “And do you skate, Miss Cosgrove?” Lord Hawksmoor asked.

  “No. I have never had the occasion to.”

  “Then it will be an exciting learning experience, I am certain,” Rosalind said, before steering the conversation down another avenue. “And speaking of exciting experiences, I had hoped to entice you to join me next week, Miss Cosgrove, and you as well, Lady Henrietta.”

  “Join you?” Lady Henrietta paled considerably. Quite a feat given her porcelain skin.

  Lady Dalridge had informed Madalene the young woman had not ventured out into society since the Lord Pengrin incident, as the family referred to it, though they preferred not to refer to it at all, if possible. It was an ugly occasion best left forgotten. But personal experience had proven to Madalene the more ugly the incident, the more deeply entrenched it became in one’s memory.

  She didn’t blame Lady Henrietta for her reticence in venturing beyond the safety of her home. The ton was not always kind, and as Lady Henrietta had previously stated, she did not care to be stared at as if she was an exhibit at the zoo.

  “I am hosting a party at the Pavilion in an effort to raise funds for the school. My hope is that through the generosity of those who are more fortunate, we can build the school’s library to a substantial degree by the time we are ready to open its doors. Unfortunately, given my—” Rosalind cleared her throat. “—unorthodox approach to things, it has been brought to my attention that I might have more success if I had a couple of proper young ladies to assist me in hosting the event.”

  “But I am hardly what society would consider a proper young lady. They see me as nothing more than a commoner.” A status enhanced by Lady Susan’s proclamation, one she likely shared with anyone who would listen.

  “On the contrary,” Lady Henrietta said. “If anything, you are the perfect example of what an education can do to help elevate a young girl from a difficult situation. Look how far you’ve come despite the hardships your family has suffered. Besides, if you hide away after what happened last evening, it only gives credence to Lady Susan’s claims.”

  “True words,” Rosalind said. “And you, Lady Henrietta, will add the gentile touch that I sorely lack. And, taking the words from your own mouth, hiding away doesn’t do anyone any good. I know you suffered heartbreak, but do not let that hold you back from life. Do not let Lord Pengrin win.”

  “Oh. No. I don’t…I’m afraid my…” Her hand fluttered around her neck where her hair hung over her shoulder, covering it. “I look like a—” Her voice drifted off and she kept her gaze lowered.

  “You look like what?” Lord Hawksmoor asked and Madalene shot him a hard look. He lifted his hand slightly as if to prevent her from trying to silence him. His voice gentled when he spoke again, sliding across the room like silk. “Like what, my dear?”

  Lady Henrietta looked up, as if his words propelled her to do so. “Like a monster.”

  Madalene opened her mouth to refute such a claim but Lord Hawksmoor spoke before she could.

  “I am pleased to report you are most incorrect in that assumption, Lady Henrietta.” Hawk added the warm smile Madalene had received more times than she could count to soften his words further. Such power it held, such mesmerizing strength. “You see, I have seen monsters in my lifetime.”

  “You have?”

  “Indeed. Which means I can say with complete confidence that you bear no resemblance to them at all. I have every confidence that you could not be in safer hands with Miss Cosgrove and Miss Caldwell, should you agree to take part in this event. It is as Miss Caldwell says, if you hide away, you allow them to win. I believe that would be a true shame, as I’m certain you have much to offer that would make this world a better place.”

  Silence descended upon the receiving room as Madalene and the other two ladies stared at Lord Hawksmoor. While Rosalind and Lady Henrietta looked shocked at the encouraging words coming from a dastardly rake such as Lord Hawksmoor, Madalene saw only the man she remembered. The man who had encouraged her love of learning and ensured she had the tools needed to build upon it. The man who had held her heart in his hands. Whom she feared still did.

  Madalene turned to Rosalind. “I would be more than pleased to assist you with your event.”

  Lady Henrietta pulled her gaze away from Lord Hawksmoor, her fingers self-consciously pulling at the hair looped over her shoulder. “I…I will as well.” Her smile wobbled and did not quite find its footing, but Madalene admired the woman’s courage. Attending the event was a first step back to the life she deserved and Madalene would do whatever she could to ensure her experience went smoothly and without incident.

  “I am pleased to hear it,” Lord Hawksmoor said then stood. “Now, if you ladies will forgive me. I have preparations to make.”

  Madalene rose to her feet. “Preparations?”

  “Yes, I have decided to return to Raven Manor.”

  His admission startled her. “Raven Manor? Are you—” She caught herself. His loss of memory was not something widely known. A fact Mr. Bowen had claimed to be a wise decision, indicating those hoping to gain an edge over him would exploit any weakness.

  Lord Hawksmoor offered his arm. “Would you see me to the door, Miss Cosgrove?”

  “Yes, of course.” She looped her arm through his and remained quiet until they had reached the stairwell that led down to the foyer. “Are you certain that is a wise decision?”

  He glanced down at her, a self-deprecating smile playing about his lips, enticing her to lean up and kiss them, but she held herself in check. Barely.

  “Because my family despises me?”

  She looked away; afraid if she didn’t he would see the truth in his eyes. It was true, horrible as it was, and she could find no reasoning for their feelings. What parent treated their own child with such aversion, as if he was not worthy of their time or love? And if they were to do so, then why choose the one who was a good man, rather than the one who had proven himself to be nothing short of the monster Lord Hawksmoor spoke of earlier?

  He patted her hand where it rested on his arm. “Do not fret. I know the type of welcome I will receive. But my hope is twofold—to search for my journals and to see if the familiar surroundings of my childhood will help resurrect more memories. If it is as you said, and I left Raven Manor in haste, then perhaps I had no other alternative but to leave the journals behind.”

  Madalene had no argument to offer against his logic as they made their way down the staircase. If the journals were not at The Devil’s Lair, then they must be at Raven Manor. There had been little time between when he took her to her room and when she had to go below stairs a few hours later to attend to her duties or risk losing her position. When she arrived in the kitchens, one of the other maids indicated he’d had a row with his parents and left some time through the night. It was a day after that when the servants learned of the death of the heir to Ravenwood, but by then, the new Lord Hawksmoor was long gone. If any of the other servants considered the two events strange or connected in any way, no one said as much to her.

  Cleveland met them in the entrance hall and held out Lord Hawksmoor’s coat. Once on, Lord Hawksmoor dismissed him. The servant glanced at her, and for a brief moment looked as if he might decline for the sake of propriety, but then thought better of it and turned and disappeared down the hallway, the heels of his shoes clicking against the polished marble floor.

  “You will take care of yourself?” she asked. She would miss him.
The thought of days stretching in front of her without the likelihood of seeing him seemed more depressing than she cared to contemplate. He had quickly become a constant in her life once again, and the idea of him suddenly not being there left an unwanted emptiness inside of her that she did not know what to do with.

  “I will, have no fear. And I shan’t stay long. A day or two at most. I will return in time to attend your event for the school.” He reached out and took her hand, covering it with his own. She had not worn her gloves, and he had yet to put his on. The warmth of his skin seeped into hers and spread throughout.

  “I will look forward to seeing you upon your return then.” Her voice caught and she swallowed. How silly this reaction to his leaving. Sillier still how badly she wanted to cling to him and beg him not to go. To admit she needed him too, even if she didn’t fully understand what for.

  “I promise to return,” he told her, as if reading her mind. Her heart. “I will not fail you this time.”

  He lifted her hand and bowed over it, pressing his lips against her knuckles. A thrill shot through her and her breath caught on a gasp. He lifted his gaze and her cheeks blazed with heat and longing and a hundred other things he evoked within her.

  He smiled, the effect every bit as intoxicating as the touch of his lips had been. “Loath as I am to admit it, my dear, I would kiss you on the lips right here and now but I fear it would scandalize you and make you question my honor.”

  She could not help but smile back even though his suggestion had indeed left her somewhat scandalized, though most of her shock came from her disappointment that he planned on not delivering such a kiss and how badly she wished he would change his mind.

  “I would never question your honor.”

  He chuckled quietly. “You should. It hangs from an extremely thin thread when I am with you.”

  He leaned in and placed a soft kiss upon her forehead and chaste as it was, her body’s reaction to it was anything but. She longed to curl into him, have him wrap her into his arms and hold her there forever, their bodies melding together into one.