by Wendy Vella
“Yes. To start with I had thought they were either drunken locals or a couple intent on a private tryst, but then I heard them talking about the Duke, and deciding if they were going to kill him before throwing him over the cliff.”
“Christ!”
“Did you see who they were?” Cam asked.
“No, I was on the ledge underneath by then.”
“Bloody hell!” This time it was Cam who cursed. “You rode that bloody beast down the cliffs at night?”
“I am sure that by the time I have finished my story, you will both have roared at me several more times, so perhaps you can wait till I finish,” Eden snapped, relishing the bite of anger that was slowly replacing the numbing fear.
Both brothers glared but remained silent. Essie patted Eden’s leg comfortingly and urged her to continue.
“I had already thrown off my boots and stripped to my chemise by the time they were directly above me.”
“Why would you take such a risk for someone you did not know?”
Eden looked at Dev and remembered the urgency that had gripped her.
“I could not let him die like that, Dev, and neither would you have. But it was more than that.” She tried to tell her siblings how she had felt. “Something drove me into that water. An urgency I have never felt before.”
Dev made a sound deep in his throat.
“I slipped into the water and swam out as far as I could and waited.” She told them how she had followed the Duke’s body under the water, remembering the terror that had consumed her. “It was so dark, and I couldn’t find him until in desperation I kicked my legs one last time before I had to surface, and my fingertips brushed his head.”
“My God.” Devon pushed off the mantel and stalked across the room, the breath hissing from his throat with each step.
“How the hell did you get him untied and out of the water without running out of air? Christ, Eden, you could have drowned and we wouldn’t have known,” Cam rasped.
“But I did not.”
“Take that bloody horse off her and forbid her to leave the house, Dev.”
“I intend to,” the eldest Sinclair said, and for once her brothers were in agreement, even if it was against her.
“You will not take Atticus off me!”
“Finish your story, Eden; we will talk about the rest tomorrow.”
Sending Cam a dark look, Eden continued, finishing with the Duke helping her up the cliffs to her horse.
“Well, I am proud of her.” Essie gave her sister’s hand a squeeze. “I do not condone riding along the cliffs in the dark, but in this instance she has saved a life and that I will rejoice in. Although I confess I too feel the terror of nearly losing her.”
“And now I have something to tell you, and would ask that you hear me out before deciding I have lost my wits.” Devon sank into the empty chair after delivering these ominous words. He suddenly looked every one of his thirty years. “Check our patient, Cam, then come and sit before the fire,” he added.
“He sleeps.” Cam slid to the floor minutes later, leaning back on his brother’s chair.
They were so alike in appearance, her brothers, Eden thought. Yet they were as different as night is to day in personality. With the death of their parents Devon had retired from the army and returned home to take responsibility for his six siblings, a duty he took seriously. His family was his life and he would protect them with everything he had.
Cam loved his family just as passionately but allowed his brother to shoulder most of the burden for their welfare. He was a rake who drank heavily and kept company with any woman who would have him.
Consequently, the two older Sinclair brothers had an uneasy relationship. Both occasionally frequented London society, Devon only briefly and usually because he had business to attend, while Cam stayed until his funds ran out.
“Before I enlisted father told me of a story that his father had told him many years before. He believed it had been passed through generations of Sinclairs for centuries and thought it was time I heard it too. He asked me to tell you all when I felt the time was right... I believe now is that time.”
Eden felt it again, that sense of urgency she had experienced earlier.
“It is believed, that hundreds of years ago one of our ancestors saved the Duke of Raven from certain death. It is believed by the Sinclairs, and possibly the Ravens, but as I have never asked one, I can neither confirm or deny this, that our gift was the result of this event and—”
“It is not a gift, it is a curse,” Cam muttered.
“The Sinclairs became protectors of the Ravens from that day forth,” Dev continued, ignoring his brother.
“Bloody hell!”
“My thoughts exactly,” Dev said, acknowledging Cam. “Father said that his father had saved the current Duke’s great-grandfather from a fire in the village. Apparently, the old Duke had a soft spot for fresh-baked bread and was often seen at the bakers. One day it caught fire and our grandfather pulled the Duke free.”
“Can it be?” Essie whispered.
“Supposedly our ancestors were gifted this land by King Edward III in 1335 for our protection of the Ravens, who were—and still are—wealthy, titled, and owners of substantial lands throughout England. The Duke was one of King Edward’s advisors and someone he respected greatly, hence the reward and the order for the Sinclairs to protect the Ravens.”
“Do you have anything strong to drink in this room?”
Nodding, Devon pulled a bottle and glasses from a cupboard and handed them to his brother.
“If it has not been destroyed, supposedly there is a document King Edward III signed at the time, yet neither father nor our grandfather knew where it was. He believed that the Ravens have it stowed away somewhere in the castle.”
Eden couldn’t take it in. It all seemed so far-fetched, and yet they did live at the base of Raven Mountain, and they did have their heightened senses.
“I didn’t think again of the tale until my unit was called to fight. He was there leading the Eleventh Hussars.” Devon pointed to the wall behind which the Duke slept. “I asked about him, knowing he was the one who had grown up away from Raven Castle, yet also knowing that one day he would be the next Duke.”
“Yes, he was sent away to school at a young age.” Essie frowned as she recalled the facts. “He never came home, even in the holidays. Mother said she was surprised when the future Duke went into the army straight from school. She had been amazed that his father allowed it, as he had been ailing at the time and surely would not want his heir in danger.”
“Miserable old bastard that he was,” Cam muttered.
Nodding, Devon continued with his story. “His men said that as a leader he was unequaled, his every move carefully calculated, and his losses were minimal.”
Eden watched her brother take a large swallow of brandy before continuing. It took a great deal to disturb the eldest Sinclair, yet there was no doubting that tonight he was disturbed—greatly.
“He was taller than most men and when he rode into battle, he always wore a red ribbon on his helmet so they could see him. Of course this made him a target, but it also made his men fight harder to protect him. One day on the battlefield for some reason I found myself next to him. He fought like five men. I have never seen a man wield a sword like him; he was tireless. Our horses were side-by-side for a while and then I was drawn away in battle, and when I looked back, he was gone.”
Eden saw the demons chase across her brother’s face as he remembered the fighting. He did not speak about his days in the army often, yet she knew the memories plagued him.
“I still don’t know why I did what I did, but something made me search for him. I became desperate, reckless in my need to reach him, almost as if I were possessed by something, very likely as Eden was tonight.”
She caught and held her brother’s eyes briefly.
“Finally, I found him wounded on the ground behind his horse.”
&nbs
p; “But surely you remembered Father’s words and that was why you went after him?”
Shaking his head at Cam, Devon continued. “No, it wasn’t until afterward that I remembered what I had been told.”
“What happened then?” Cam urged his brother.
“When I got to him, his right arm was injured, and he was fighting with his left. I fought to get him free and then held out my hand; he took it, and I pulled him up behind me. I rode for his camp, desperate to get him to safety. It was all very strange,” Devon added.
“Yes, that was how I felt tonight,” Eden whispered. “As if I had the strength of three people and that I could not give up until I had saved the Duke.”
Dev nodded.
“Did he see you in the battle, Dev? Did he know who had saved him?”
Devon shrugged at Cam’s question. “In truth, I have no idea.”
The silence that followed was loaded with tension as the four Sinclair siblings worked through what Devon had just said.
“And now Eden has saved him again,” Essie whispered.
“You believe it, don’t you?” Cam questioned.
Devon ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. Once, with me, was perhaps a coincidence, but this, what Eden did tonight—risking her life and feeling the urgency I did, I just don’t know.”
“Did the tale say that it was always the Duke who was protected?”
“This is only hearsay, Essie, but I believe our great-great-grandmother saved the then Duke’s youngest daughter.”
“B-but he did not have our gifts?”
“Who?” Everyone turned to look at Eden as she spoke.
“F-father, he did not have a gift and he was a Sinclair.”
“He did, actually. However, it was not as strong as ours. He could see,” Dev said.
“We did not know that!” Essie looked indignant.
“He wanted it that way.” Dev shrugged. “However, the important thing here is that someone is trying to kill the Duke, and he has only just arrived home from his last campaign to take up his rightful place at Raven Castle.”
“And because we are supposed to care, we should do so?” Cam muttered. “As if I have time to protect a nobleman with an extremely large ego.”
Their father had had the gift of sight but had hidden it from them. Eden could not quite take that in as around her, her siblings discussed what Dev had said. He had made her life torturous with his constant demands of her, and all the time he had carried a gift too. Bastard!
James woke with fear clawing his throat. He battled to breathe as water closed around him, filling his nose and mouth.
“You are safe, Raven. Easy now.”
Blindly he sought the owner of that deep male voice. Reaching for the hand that touched his shoulder, he manacled it with his own, gripping the wrist tight.
“Come now, you are safe.”
These words finally penetrated the fog of fear, and clarity soon followed. Where was his angel?
“The woman?” he rasped, remembering that without her he would have died tonight. She had risked her own life to somehow be in that water to save him. James shuddered as he remembered the panic. He had been helpless, and it had been many years since he’d felt that emotion.
“She too is safe.”
A man came into focus above him. He was tall and dark haired, with serious green eyes. A shiver of awareness ran through James as he studied him.
“I am Lord Sinclair, and it was my sister Eden who saved you.”
“She risked her life.”
“Aye,” the man said as James released him, and he could hear the anger in his voice at what his sister had done this night.
“Water,” James croaked. He usually never let anyone help him. He relied on no one and had lived his life that way, yet when the large arm slipped behind his shoulders he was grateful for the support. He drank deeply from the cup, enjoying the cool liquid as it soothed his raw throat.
“It was an act of incredible bravery that some of the men of my acquaintance would be loath to undertake,” James said when Sinclair once again lowered him to the pillows. “She risked her life to save me.”
“It was an act of incredible stupidity.”
He understood the anger the other man was feeling. He had a sister and would be equally as furious if she placed herself in danger. Yet without the woman’s bravery he would be dead. Floating in the sea, his body unlikely ever to be seen again. His sister—No, he would not think about that now.
“And yet I will be forever grateful, Sinclair.” James looked him in the eye. This man was familiar to him; even his name stirred something in his memory. Had they met in London? No, he would have remembered. James was bigger than most men, and Sinclair would come close to rivaling his height.
“You are safe here with us, Raven, you have nothing further to fear this day.”
“Is your sister all right?”
“Aye. She took a fright, and is exhausted, but otherwise unharmed.”
“I owe her a great deal.”
“Sinclairs look after each other, Raven, therefore consider your debt discharged.”
James looked at the man again. Something in his memory slipped into place. Sinclair—dear God, so it was true?
“Did you fight at Quatre-Bras?”
“Aye.”
“So I also owe you my life?”
“I believe it is a family tradition.”
James muttered under his breath before speaking. “I did not give any credence to that story when my grandfather told it to me, but now it seems I must.”
“If it makes you feel better, my own joy upon hearing it was no greater than yours.”
James grunted in acknowledgment of Sinclair’s words and then winced as his ribs tugged viciously. “So I am currently residing at Oak’s Knoll?”
The man nodded but remained silent.
“Twice,” James hissed in disgust. “It seems I must place some belief in what I had thought an overdeveloped fable, and I am now indebted to two Sinclairs.”
“You owe us nothing, as I have already stated.” Lord Sinclair scowled, no happier than James with the conversation. “Have you any idea who wishes to dispose of you?” he asked, changing the subject.
“I’m sure there are many, but I cannot think which one would stoop to such measures as they did this night, and not here in Crunston Cliff, seeing as I have only just arrived.”
“Well, as I have stated, you are safe here for now. Whoever tried to end your life very likely believes they succeeded.”
“My sister will be worried if I am not there when she wakes in the morning,” James said. “I must return home.”
“I would advise against it, Raven.”
James did not like people telling him what to do, especially this man, who supposedly was one of his protectors. He chafed at the knowledge that his grandfather’s words may have been true, and not a story told to a child to intrigue him.
“Is he awake, Dev?”
James felt the air squeeze from his lungs as he looked at the owner of that voice.
Chapter Three
She was exquisitely beautiful, and he knew it was her, his angel.
James watched Sinclair hold out his hand and the woman walk to his side. Not overly tall, she would reach his chin. A long dark braid hung over one shoulder and feathered brows arched over dove-gray eyes. Tilted slightly at the corners, they were framed with long curling lashes. Her teeth trapped her lower lip.
The jolt of awareness he felt looking at her made his fingers curl around the bedding. It was merely a reaction to what they had experienced and nothing more, James reasoned.
It was unfathomable that someone so small and delicate could have saved him. Dressed in that worn blue dressing gown, she did not look old enough nor strong enough to have saved him in the manner she had.
“Raven, this is my sister, Miss Eden Sinclair. It was she who rescued you.”
Lord Sinclair wrapped an arm around his sister’
s shoulders and held her to his side, and James could see the close bond they obviously shared. His family had been cold and distant, in fact, he had never been close to anyone, although he would try for his little sister’s sake.
“I am forever in your debt, Miss Sinclair. I will never be able to repay you for the risks you took on my behalf this night, but please allow me to try.”
“I did what needed to be done, Duke, and as I have recently learned it is something of a family tradition, there is no need to feel indebted.”
“I have just informed my siblings of what lies between our families, Raven,” Sinclair said. “They were understandably unsettled by the revelations.”
“I have known since my youth.”
“Yet, until today you did not believe it?”
Her beauty was disturbing in its power, James thought as Eden Sinclair spoke. He could not stop looking at her; such was her allure. He wondered how many weak men she had ensnared with just a glance.
“The evidence is certainly proving hard to ignore.”
“Yet, like us, I am sure you wish to.”
James nodded. He had dismissed his grandfather’s words, but then he had been six when he heard them.
“Are you sure you are unhurt, Miss Sinclair?” James said as he watched her yawn.
“Yes, thank you. The only aftereffect from the night’s activities is tiredness. I shall feel more the thing in the morning.”
James wondered how she could sound so dismissive when her actions could have resulted in her death this night. To have risked that for him was humbling, and extremely unsettling. He’d never had someone risk so much for him before. Well, that was not entirely true; her brother had done it also.
“Diving into a freezing ocean to save me is not something I can dismiss easily. Without you, I would now be dead.”
“Yet I have told you to do so, Duke, so please do not give it another thought.”
Her smile was small and tired, and James had the urge to pull Eden down on top of him and let her rest, which was ridiculous because James rarely had irresponsible urges; dukes could ill afford them.