Sinclair and Raven Series: Books 1-3

by Wendy Vella

  He saw the sadness in her eyes.

  “I’m sorry that you are alone.”

  “I have family in France, but we are estranged, and I like it that way,” Max said in a gruff tone. He’d always thought so, anyway.

  “Possessions and wealth mean little in life, Max. Do not be ashamed if you have neither. But people, now they are important. Perhaps if you wrote to your family?”

  She thought he was penniless. The irony would have made him laugh, were he the type to do so.

  “I do not need people, nor do I wish to contact my family.”

  Her smile was gentle. “Everyone needs someone.”

  Max could lose himself in that smile. With very little effort on her part, the woman had captured and held his attention. Not an easy feat, considering the man he had become.

  “Not I.”

  His words hard been harsher than need be, and the smile dropped from her lovely lips.

  “Well, I have people I do need, sir, and I would be grateful if you did not mention again any of what happened last night. I did what needed to be done to warm you, as I feared for both your wound and your heart. I have no wish for that to reach the ears of my family.”

  Her cheeks were flushed, and she looked so sweet, Max clenched his fists to keep from reaching for her.

  “I will tell no one, you have my word.”

  She nodded, but he could tell she was not entirely convinced, and Max wondered who had broken her trust.

  “I have taken out the bullet, but there is always a risk of infection, so please have a care, sir.”

  She saw my back. The uncomfortable thought came to him suddenly. Max never let people see his scars. Even woman he bedded, he did so in the dark. He neither wanted sympathy nor needed it. That was part of Max’s life that he kept locked away deep inside him, in that dark dungeon that couldn’t hurt or make him weak anymore.

  “Do you suffer at all from the welts on your back?”

  “No.” How had she known what he was thinking? How was it he felt a closeness to this woman after less than a day in her company, and most of that time out of his head with pain?

  “If you do, I may have something that will help you.”

  “I need nothing for them and have no wish to discuss the matter further.”

  “There is no shame in what you have suffered. The shame lay with those who hurt you.”

  “How do you know I did not deserve them, Miss Sinclair?”

  She studied him through those stunning green eyes, and Max felt the urge to throw the blanket over his head. He felt exposed before her, something he had not felt for many years.

  “No child deserves to be punished in such a manner.”

  He hadn’t deserved it, and had made his tormentor pay when he was strong enough to do so.

  “I have never met a woman called Essex before.” Desperate to change the subject, yet wanting her to stay in the room, he latched on to his first thought.

  “My family all have unusual names.” A small smile tilted her lips again.

  “Names of places. How did that come about?”

  “My parents travelled a great deal.”

  “So they named you after the places they visited?”

  She nodded. He had feeling there was more to the names than that but she did not elaborate.

  “Devonshire, Essex, Cambridge, Eden, Somerset, Dorset, and Warwickshire.”

  “You have an excellent memory, considering you were in pain and had a fever.”

  “I rarely forget anything.”

  “Both a curse and a blessing, I should imagine, sir.”

  “You told me last night that you are different. Will you tell me in what way?”

  “I shall make you something for the pain now,” she said, ignoring his question. Her words were brisk and nothing like the gentle tone she had used with him last night.

  “Why do you not believe you are beautiful?” Max asked, instead of pursing the matter of her difference and why she believed herself to the be the weakest member of her family.

  She turned away from him, but he heard her words.

  “I know what I am, sir, therefore this conversation needs no further airing.”

  Max watched her walk away, and his eyes were drawn to the sensual sway of her hips; the woman had no notion of her appeal. She was a bloody walking siren, he thought, adjusting the covers around his hips.

  Glancing out the window, he looked at the mountain that loomed above the house. Not unlike when Essex Sinclair had touched him, he felt a jolt of awareness.

  “That is Raven Mountain.”

  He couldn’t drag his eyes away from it. Why had the name sent a shiver down his spine?

  “It is impressive, is it not, sir?”

  Max gave the mountain one last look before he made himself look at Essex Sinclair.

  “It would take more than a mound of earth to impress me, Miss Sinclair.”

  Chapter Three

  Essie made herself finish caring for Max instead of following through with her first impulse, which was to flee. She cleaned away her things, and tried to ignore the fact that he was watching her every move. She felt his eyes on her as she bent to stoke the fire to life. They followed her across the room.

  She had slept with a man who was neither family nor her husband. Good Lord, how did I allow that to happen?

  “You warmed me with your body when nothing else worked, Essex. I beg of you not to be too hard on yourself... or me.”

  How had he known her thoughts? She did not turn to face him. Instead, picking up the dirty bandages, she prepared to leave the room.

  “Essex, you have my undying gratitude, and my pledge that should you need it, my help is there for you in any form.”

  She had to look at him after those words. He lay against her brother’s pillows like some Greek god, large and tanned. The awareness that shimmered between them was entirely too disturbing.

  He should look weak, and yes, he did have pain lines etched in his face, but for all that, he looked strong and healthy. Big, and she wanted to say formidable, but as she knew nothing about him, she could not form such an opinion... yet.

  “I want nothing from you, sir. Tending you is no different from caring for my other patients. You have no need to say such things.”

  “In my world, there is every need. I would have died had I not chanced upon you, therefore I am indebted to you, and I always pay my debts.”

  Essie shook her head before turning away. “You owe me nothing. Now please excuse me. I will have someone come to you with water to wash, and something to eat.”

  “But not you?”

  “No. I will be back later to check on you. Before I go, however, there is one thing I must ask.” She turned at the door to look at him.

  “Anything.”

  “The person who shot you, do you think that danger will follow you here?” She needed to know, had to ask, as she could not put others in danger by caring for him.

  “No. After I was shot I rode hard, and then hid in some trees. No one followed. But if you wish it, I will leave now.”

  “That will not be necessary, if you have said we are safe.”

  His lion eyes were suddenly intent.

  “You would take the word of a stranger?”

  Essie nodded. She didn’t know why she trusted him. Indeed, she had no reason to, and yet did.

  “I would.”

  She had surprised him into silence. As she left the room, Essie wondered what his story was. Who was he? Where had he come from? Had he no one that cared for him? No possessions or home? He had not stated otherwise when she questioned him. Did he simply find work where he could? Had he nothing binding him to a place? The thought made her feel sad.

  “How is the patient this morning?”

  Cam was walking down the stairs as she reached them.

  “He’s better.” Essie had no wish to discuss the patient, or where she had spent the night.

  “Your wrinkled clothing would su
ggest you spent the night in that bloody chair in Dev’s room, Essex. Tell me that is not the case, and that Grace just failed to press it?”

  Looking her brother up and down, she took in his immaculate breeches and polished black hessians. His jacket was deep green, and his necktie immaculately folded.

  “Yes, well, some of us care more for people than the way we are turned out,” Essie said, brushing her hands down her hopelessly creased skirts. “Are you going somewhere?”

  “It is unavoidable, but I am going to the Mullinses to view a horse for Uncle, and you look like the bottom end of a mop.”

  “I do not!”

  “And your hair is tied with string. Tsk tsk, sister, you have let yourself go since leaving London.”

  She looked up at his eyes and saw the wicked glint. Cam loved nothing better than getting a rise out of his siblings. Essie was tired, so today it was easier to accomplish than normal.

  “I have no wish to be considered a dandy!”

  Cam snorted. “Come now, dandy? Surely you can do better than that, especially as that term applies to men only. Forgive me if I have no wish to look”—he waved a hand up and down her body—“rumpled and unkempt.”

  “You smell like a woman!” Essie stormed, because she could think of nothing better.

  “That is untrue and you know it. I smell like a handsome, well-turned-out man who is irresistible to all females.”

  Myrtle chose that moment to appear. She brushed passed Essie and stopped to sniff Cam’s boots. She then sneezed loudly and walked away.

  “And there is the proof.” Essie found herself laughing. “Even the dog cannot stomach that stench.”

  Cam sniffed the air and wrinkled his nose. “I had thought it pleasant when I purchased it in London, but perhaps....”

  “Go.” She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him hard.

  “You know, of course,” he said, wrapping his large arms around her and hugging her back, “that you are creasing my clothes.”

  “It is a sister’s right to do so,” she mumbled, enjoying being held.

  He sighed. “Very well, I shall endure it then.”

  He took her face in his hands when she released him.

  “Now, you have Josiah and Bertie, and Grace is here. But I think word should be sent to have Mrs. Beadle from the village come in while I am gone.”

  “Why? You will return by nightfall, surely?”

  “Yes, but there is a man here who I do not know.”

  “He has a bullet wound and can barely leave his bed, Cam.” Essie pushed aside the fact that the man had looked far from invalided just moments before.

  “I don’t care, what I care about is you.”

  “Lovely though that sentiment is, there really is no need for Mrs. Beadle to come. So go and look at horses, and be sure to check it is not too short in the patterns.”

  Cam snorted. “I love you for trying, darling, but I think you mean pastern.”

  Essie was the Sinclair who did not like horses, unlike her siblings. She had been bitten by one as a child, and after that had declared they were large, smelly beasts she wanted no part of.

  “Damn, I was sure I had that right.”

  Cam snorted once more. “I shall now check on the patient and then be on my way.”

  “He is sleeping, Cam, and I have no wish for you to wake him.”

  He studied her, and she kept her face calm. No one could see through you quite like a sibling.

  “Do remember not to sniff the air when you reach the Mullinses, it makes you look like one of the hounds.”

  “I don’t sniff the air.”

  “Not all the time, no,” Essie added.

  He sighed. “I shall try, but as you can imagine it is hard when every smell is heightened to ten times that of what others smell.”

  “Nose plugs,” Essie said, smiling. “We should really see about getting you some.”

  “Yes, that would create something of a stir,” he drawled. “And on that note, I shall away. Be safe, darling, and I have spoken to the Hemples about one of them being with you from now on when you tend that man.”

  “Oh, Cam—”

  “He was shot, Essie. We have no idea why, or if he is a good or bad man, so you will take care, and not tend him unless a brother is with you. Promise me.”

  He could go from silly to serious in seconds.

  “Very well, I promise, but you will be gone but a few hours.”

  “Good girl.” He kissed her nose and left. Essie closed the door behind him.

  “How is the patient?”

  “Better, thank you, Bertie, and in need of a wash and some breakfast. Keep the food soft and light if you please. Eggs and a little broth. Tea, not ale.”

  “I will see to it.”

  Essie ran to the stairs to her room. Once inside, she shut the door and moved to sit on her bed.

  She closed her eyes and remembered waking, pressed to all that wonderful, warm, muscled flesh. Was that how married people who actually cared for each other woke most days? Did her siblings wake with their beloveds’ bodies close? The thought made her warm all over. Surely it would be a wonderful thing to wake in the arms of the man you loved. Not that she loved Max… or he her.

  “He is a stranger, you fool!”

  Disgusted with her thoughts because she had long ago given up on love, she began to pull off her clothes. He is nothing but a patient to you, she reminded herself.

  The problem was awareness. Something sizzled in the air between them, and she could not deny that fact, even considering he was injured.

  “I have brought you warm water for washing, Miss Essex.”

  “Wonderful, thank you, Grace,” Essie said to her maid.

  Grace had been with Essie for many years now, and she was a wonderful, sturdy soul who was rarely flustered, which was an asset in this family.

  Essie hurried to wash, reminding herself she had no time in her life for foolish thoughts or fancies. She had given those up along with her hopes of everlasting love.

  Changing into a clean dress, she let Grace braid her hair. Once she was presentable, Essie headed down to take her morning meal, determined to put all her silly thoughts behind her. She was a healer, and people relied upon her. She would help Max heal, and then see him off her property and never think of him and his lion eyes again.

  Making her way back downstairs, she took tea with Bertie and made herself eat porridge with a dab of honey and milk. Josiah came back in when she was nearly finished.

  “He’s not happy with the meal I placed before him. In fact, he said it wasn’t enough to keep a small boy alive, let alone a full-grown man. He then asked for ale.”

  “There will be no ale,” Essie said slowly. “He will eat what is put before him or go hungry.”

  “He’s not a child, Miss Essex.”

  “I understand that, but he does have a bullet hole in him, and as I am the one who took it out and stitched him up, it is I who am responsible for him. If he has no wish to abide by the rules I set, then he can leave.”

  “Perhaps you would like to inform him of that,” Bertie said, looking rueful.

  “I shall. I shall also inform him if he is to stay here, then it must be under our rules.”

  “Even on such short acquaintance I can see he is not a biddable man, Miss Essex. In fact, he reminds me a great deal of your brothers.”

  “Lord save us all.” Essie sighed as she regained her feet. “Did he ask you to inform anyone of his whereabouts, Josiah?”

  “No, he said there was no one who would miss him.”

  Essie refused to feel sad about the fact that Max had no one to worry about him. Instead she marched back to the room he occupied. When she entered, he was reading one of her books on herbal remedies.

  “I hope you do not mind me reading your book, Essex.”

  “I do not mind.”

  His smile suggested he knew she did. It mocked her, and made her toes curl inside her boots.

  �
��Now I wish to address the matter of your meals, sir.”

  “Max.”

  “I am caring for you, therefore you will eat what I say. If you do not like the rules I set, then by all means leave.” She hadn’t meant to sound rude, but it had come out that way.

  “I thought you did not want me to leave. I think you said I would not make it to the doorway with my injury.”

  Essie gave him a look that would have spoken volumes to each of her siblings. She was usually the quiet Sinclair, the peacemaker, the even temperament among six fiery ones. Why, then, was she struggling to find that calmness with this man?

  “I only want to help you, sir, and to do that you must allow me to know what is best for you.” There, that had been spoken in her usual calm, rational manner.

  “I shall try, but invalid food has never agreed with me.”

  Essie did not buy the contrite look on his face, but she remained silent.

  “Why has your brother left you alone?”

  “He will return in a few hours, and I am not alone. I have three servants, and how do you know my brother has left?”

  “Josiah told me. Where is the rest of your family?”

  “They are in London, where I shall be in a few weeks.”

  “You are to go to London?”

  He seemed surprised by that.

  “I am. Why do you ask? Do you perhaps live there, sir?” She could read nothing in his expression.

  “I live nowhere.”

  His answer was frustratingly evasive. She wanted to know more about this handsome stranger, and yet had no right to push for answers, especially if, as she suspected, he was poor, with no possessions to his name. It would be wrong of her to pursue the matter, especially if it embarrassed him.

  “You miss them, your family?”

  Essie nodded, her throat suddenly tight as she thought about her siblings. She did miss them. After the disaster of her first season, she had then endured another, but had pined for Oak’s Knoll, and her eldest brother had told her that if she wished to go home for a while, he would not stop her. Cam had joined her, in between trips to visit friends.

  “Very much.”

  “Then why live here, and not with them?”

  “You ask a lot of questions, sir.”

  “You interest me.”