Searching Hearts Box Set: Books 1-5

by St. Clair, Ellie

  “Daniel, is it?”

  She nodded curtly. “We are married now, and it is a lovely name. Someone may as well use it.”

  He allowed her to enter his home — their home — before him, and somehow Woodward was there with them, apparently having followed them down the street.

  “Welcome home, my lord, my lady,” he said with a bow, and Christina wandered through the entrance, and down the corridor, looking into each room as she went, slowly peeling off her gloves.

  “It looks as though it has had a lady’s touch,” she said, looking at Daniel quizzically.

  “My mother,” he offered by way of explanation.

  “Did you not care to choose your own furnishings?” she asked when she walked into the drawing room, and he noted her eyeing the overstuffed upholstery and floral decor. She didn’t seem the flowery sort of woman.

  He shrugged again. “I did not expect to be in London long,” he said. “Only long enough to dissuade my father from whatever reason he had brought me here.”

  “Ah,” she said. “To avoid me, you mean.”

  “At the time, I did not know the full extent of his plans, though I had a feeling he was going to encourage me toward matrimony. As it happens, we will be leaving in due time, anyway.”

  “Once you find Lord Northcliffe.”

  “Once I find Lord Northcliffe.”

  They faced one another until he felt uncomfortable by her pointed stare, which seemed to reach into the depths of his soul and read all he felt there.

  “What is it you wish to say?” he finally asked, leading her to the sitting area of the room, where she chose the small settee.

  “I would like to know why, when your sister began to reminisce, you flew out of the house as if you were being hunted, with that look of despair in your eyes. I know it was not her teasing that bothered you, but the story she told. I am assuming the young woman she mentioned was your Miss Churston?”

  Daniel had no desire to sit here and discuss this with her, but she had a point — as his wife, if nothing else, he owed her an explanation.

  “It was.”

  “Daniel, I…” She paused and looked down at her hands, clenched tightly together in her lap, and he realized she perhaps wasn’t quite as composed as she outwardly presented herself. “What happened to Miss Churston — and to you — is unfathomable. Perhaps, however, instead of continuing this quest for vengeance, you would be better served to let go of your past, and remember her for who she was, not what happened to her. It’s the only way you will be able to move on with your life.”

  He heard her words — he did — and deep down inside of him, he realized the truth in them. But not finding justice for Laura? As he had held her in his arms, he had promised her that he would find whoever killed her and make him pay for what he did. He was so close now, to not follow through on his vow was incomprehensible. How could Christina even think of suggesting such a thing?

  The familiar fury that rose inside of him was almost a relief, for it was an emotion that he well recognized, that he knew what to do with. He said nothing for a moment as he stood, looking down at Christina, wearing what he knew to be a sneer on his face. She had said she wasn’t afraid of him, but now looking at her, at the way her eyes widened, he could tell that she was rethinking her words.

  “Who do you think you are?” he asked, hearing his words come out in a growl. “You think because we have been married for what, an hour, you can question everything I stand for, try to make me forget the woman I love? I will remind you, my lady, that I did not marry you because I felt anything for you. No, I married you so that I could hold onto my wealth, the wealth that allows me to continue to fight for what I believe in, for the people who have lost either those they love or any hope to find anything good in this world. Have you ever lost someone you love? Have you ever found yourself with nowhere to turn, no one to help you in your time of need? I gather not. You are the privileged daughter of a marquess, who has spent her life in a stately London manor or an extravagant country home, with her every necessity looked after. You need not concern yourself with my thoughts or activities any longer, Lady Christina. Keep to your own pastimes, and I will keep to mine.”

  Her eyes had widened as he spoke, and now he could hardly see her gray irises through the sheen of tears that covered them. She had backbone, however, he would give her that. Most women would run cowering from him, but she did not. Instead, she stood and walked over to him until they were nearly toe-to-toe. She was of average height for a woman, and he still towered over her, but she had a silent power within her that kept him from dwarfing her.

  “Very well, Lord Ravenhall,” she said, her voice calm and serene, but for a slight crack that he nearly missed. “Do what you wish. Just know that I had no thought but for your own welfare. I take back that concern.”

  She began walking to the door, before turning around to make one last remark.

  “And Ravenhall? Assume what you want, but you know nothing about me. Nothing.”

  * * *

  As soon as she was out of her husband’s sight, Christina turned and fled down the corridor. She had never been in the house before — her house now, she realized, but she ran up the stairs as fast as her voluminous skirts would allow her, and found herself in a hall of doors. The second on the left opened easily, and she stepped inside an elegantly decorated bedchamber. It was apparently a guest room, for no personal items could be seen, but she welcomed the anonymity of the room that should allow her some privacy.

  Christina shut the door behind her and leaned back against it, all of the strength that had sustained her to make it thus far without losing her composure suddenly drained. The tears that had threatened since Daniel had made his accusations against her began to fall down her cheeks, and as she sank down to the floor amidst the folds of her gown, she began to weep. She realized the utter foolishness of what she had done, and what she had hoped for without hardly realizing it herself.

  When she’d agreed to marry Daniel, she had known there would be no love between them, nothing beyond friendship and a partnership. They had married to avoid the alternatives threatened to them by their respective parents. And yet … deep down within her, she had hoped for more. While she knew his heart was still with his dead fiancée, she had hoped that perhaps he could, at the very least, come to care for her. She had thought that perhaps he desired her, but it seemed that, too, was fiction created by her imagination, something she had held out hope for but could simply never be.

  No, it was worse than that. For rather than simply ignore her, he had spoken to her words that had cut her to the core. She thought back to the first time they had talked, when he had told her that now he understood why she was unmarried. It seemed her father was right. Her bluestocking ways, her practicality, her penchant for saying what needed to be said in order to come to the reality of the situation — it was more than a man could handle in a wife.

  She allowed herself this moment of weakness, this sorrow at her situation and what the rest of her life was going to apparently become. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there with tears falling down her face until finally she stood up, wiped her face on her beautiful white glove as she could find nothing else, and looked bleakly around her. This was her home now. This was her life. And she wasn’t going to let a man who refused to allow her entry into his heart or soul to darken the rest of her days. She would find her own happiness. With new resolve, she set her shoulders, wrenched open the door, and marched out to face whatever was waiting for her.

  12

  He never came.

  Christina had spent the rest of the day acquainting herself with her new home. Despite the fact that Daniel had told her he meant to be away from here as soon as possible, she knew that in all likelihood they would require a London residence. She could tell the house had been decorated rather quickly, and there were some changes she would like to make, but they could wait for another day.

  More importantly, she tried t
o better get to know the staff who greeted her. Besides the butler and the valet, most were newly hired and therefore had no allegiance to Daniel nor to the family. It was up to her to ensure they were properly treated and trained. Having run her family’s home in the country for years now, she had no problem with this, and she set about things quickly. Her lady’s maid had accompanied her, thankfully, which meant that Christina needn’t bother herself with unpacking her own essentials, and before long she was satisfied that all was in order.

  She changed from her beautiful gown into a blue day dress that was much more comfortable. She vowed she would find an occasion to wear the fine, expensive dress once again — hopefully at an event that proved to be much happier than the one she’d worn it at this morning.

  The manor wasn’t particularly ornate, which suited her. The aesthetics were lovely, of course, but what was more important was that the home flowed — that there was an ease in which the servants could move from one room to another, from the kitchen to the dining room without the food becoming cold, and that it wasn’t far for guests to travel from dinner to the drawing room.

  For that, Christina applauded the architect of the home.

  While she was pleased when she had found things to be in order, the lingering unease in the pit of her stomach remained. She wondered when she would see Daniel, whether he would have cooled some from their heated exchange. Would he apologize? Would he realize she was only trying to help him live a life that had some brightness, some joy?

  And tonight — would he come to her bed? As much as she dreaded seeing him again and was nervous about the marriage act, when she thought of their previous kiss, of the time they had touched before … a tingle of desire coursed through her, one she cursed as a betrayal of her body. She should hate Daniel for what he’d said to her, and yet she had seen moments of who he was, who he had been underneath the layers of pain, vengeance, and anger that he had cloaked himself with in order to keep everyone out. She wanted to peel back those layers, to find the man underneath.

  Daniel had not appeared at supper. His butler told her he had gone out, for what reason he’d never revealed. She tried not to think of where her husband might have been. She hoped it was to do the work he told her of and refused to think he might be at a gentlemen’s club or some other establishment. She didn’t begrudge his time away — she only wished he would share with her what he was doing, for perhaps she could help in some way. His work seemed valuable, though she questioned some of his … methods.

  Well, she thought as she prepared for bed, he had to come home at some point, and she assumed he would want his wedding night, to consummate this marriage. If nothing else, he had certainly expressed his desire for an heir. She had changed into her practical nightgown, had sat on the edge of the bed and waited for him.

  Until eventually she grew too tired, and climbed underneath the covers of her new bed, finally falling into a fitful sleep.

  * * *

  Daniel finished his tour of the house that Hudson had found, the one that was to shelter additional women and children who needed his help. Satisfied, he turned on his heel and exited, his friend following close behind.

  “Ravenhall,” Hudson began, but before he could say anything, Daniel raised his hand.

  “Do not say what I think you are going to say, Hudson,” he said, fixing a scowl on his friend before continuing down the stairs.

  “Why, because you know very well yourself where you ought to be at this moment?” Hudson asked, his eyebrows raised. “You have a very lovely bride waiting for you at home on your wedding night, and here you are, with me, in an abandoned house. I’m not sure what that says about you, Ravenhall, but I question your choice.”

  Daniel gave a slight growl before hauling himself up into his coach. “Never fear, Hudson, I am returning home now.”

  “And what was that earlier at the wedding breakfast? Why, you stormed out of there so fast I thought your coat was on fire. I feared your mother was going to have an apoplexy. It is not as though we expect impeccable social graces from you any longer, but I had thought at the very least you would have more respect for your mother and fath—”

  “I said enough!” Daniel ground out, but Hudson was not affected. He simply shook his head at him, further angering Daniel.

  “I know there is nothing you will do to me, Ravenhall,” he said. “You are angry only because I speak the truth — a truth that you know well inside you, although you are loathe to admit it. Is this how your Miss Churston would have wanted you to live the rest of your life?”

  Daniel was silent for a moment as he contemplated Hudson’s question. The truth was, he wasn’t entirely sure how Laura Churston would want him to live his life. He had thought he loved her, and he was attracted to her sweet beauty, her quiet charm, and her grace, but as Christina and now Hudson were questioning him all the more about his past, he was beginning to realize that he hadn’t actually known her quite as well as he thought he had.

  It was part of the reason why he’d stormed out following Polly’s storytelling, why he had become so very angry with Christina. The feelings he had thought for so long he felt for Laura were beginning to fade. The anger and hatred had consumed him so that he had forgotten what it felt like to be happy. And to let go of that, to forget her, made him feel like he was tarnishing her memory, was doing nothing to avenge her death, a death that he, indirectly, had caused.

  “I don’t know Hudson,” he finally said. “I just do not know.”

  After bidding farewell to Hudson and entering his own home, Daniel slowly walked down the corridor and stopped in front of what he knew to be Christina’s room. He paused for a moment outside the door, raising his hand — whether to knock or open it, he wasn’t sure — but he stopped himself. He couldn’t go to her, not like this. It wasn’t fair to her, nor to himself. So instead, he continued down the hall, entered his rooms, poured a brandy, and sat there in silence, staring at the flames that licked at the grate in front of him.

  13

  One month later

  “Daniel?”

  Daniel held his breath as Christina walked into the study, for he found her presence to suddenly overwhelm the room.

  “Yes?” he murmured, shuffling about some papers on his desk as he tried to ignore the way his heart had quickened its pace. “Is something wrong, Lady Christina?”

  There was a short pause. “No, Daniel, there is nothing wrong. I was just wondering if, perhaps, you would wish to walk with me this afternoon?”

  Daniel shook his head firmly, thinking to himself that the last thing he wanted was to be out with his wife so that all of society could see them. It had been a month since they had been married, a month which involved them basically ignoring one another. They often had supper together or occupied the same room, but they spoke primarily out of politeness. He knew this was of his own doing. He had said things to her that were unpardonable, for which he didn’t know how to go about asking her forgiveness. For while he knew he had been in error, he also knew that he was not going to change his mind. He would continue his work, continue his search for Northcliffe. If he did not, he didn’t think he could live with himself.

  “No, I don’t think I have time for a walk today,” he said, not looking at her. “I have a great deal of business to attend to.”

  She did not say anything for a moment, and Daniel wondered whether or not she was about to grow angry with him, but instead of becoming upset, she simply sighed. Her eyes met his as he raised them but he looked away at once, hating the sadness written in her expression. It was not his fault that she was so lonely. This was, after all, what they had agreed to. And yet … her quiet presence, her practical manner, the way in which she seemed to make everything flow so effortlessly around her, drew him to her in a way he couldn’t entirely explain.

  “Might I inquire what it is you are doing?” Christina asked softly, coming a little closer to his desk, and the fresh, clean scent of the lavender soap he knew she used s
wirl about him. “Is it about Lord Northcliffe?”

  Daniel sat back in his chair, looking up at her, trying not to be affected at her nearness. “No, Lady Christina, it is not about Lord Northcliffe. I have not seen the man for some time which perhaps means he has left London.”

  “But you intend to pursue him regardless?”

  A wave of irritation crashed over him as he saw the questions in her eyes. This had nothing to do with his wife, even though she clearly wanted to be involved. This was his battle, his revenge to take. It was best that she kept to herself and left him to do whatever it was he intended.

  “Lady Christina, please allow me to work things out for myself, as regards Lord Northcliffe,” he said firmly, ignoring the way she frowned as he spoke, at the disappointment that flashed in her eyes. “This is not a matter with which you need to concern yourself.”

  “You are my husband now, Daniel,” she replied, her lips thinning, as clearly, her patience was beginning to wane. “I have every right to ask you what it is you are doing and to offer you my aid.”

  “And I have every right to refuse it, as I always will,” Daniel said quickly, wanting to keep the distance between the two of them. “I hope you have not forgotten the agreement we made when we entered this marriage, Lady Christina. I would not want you to be under the illusion that I intend to share my life with you.”

  She flinched as though he had struck her, and when something flickered in her gray eyes, he pushed away the rifling in his gut. This was what they’d agreed to and, even though they’d been married now for over a month, he had no intention of changing his ways. All in all, he’d made very few changes to his life, and while Christina now resided with him, she lived her life, and he lived his.