by Cheryl Holt
She’d been vehemently opposed to the scheme. If he’d brazenly claimed he wouldn’t proceed—which was a definite possibility—she’d have been mortified. Why would she agree to wed a man who had to be dragged to the altar?
For several minutes, she tarried, expecting him to storm back in and tell her they were marrying and that was that. But the hall was dreadfully silent, and she had to accept that he didn’t believe she was worth fighting for.
She staggered over to the sofa and fell onto it; her regret was that profound.
What now? What next?
From the moment she’d fled Carter Crossing, she’d lurched forward, feigning confidence and acting as if she was fine, but she’d constantly glanced over her shoulder, being certain he’d follow her. At the coaching inn in Frinton, on the mail coach to London, she’d watched for him, being positive he’d trot up to stop her, but he’d never arrived.
Once she’d been safe at Selby, she’d sent a letter to the butler at Carter Crossing, so the servants wouldn’t worry. The whole time, she’d told herself Raven might see it too, that he might come, but he hadn’t.
Finally—finally!—he’d strutted in, and after the shortest conversation imaginable, he’d strutted out again.
Well, she’d realized from the outset of their relationship that she’d had no business glomming onto him, no business thinking he’d reciprocate her affection. She had to cast off her foolish dreams and look ahead to the future. She deserved better, and she would forget about cold-hearted, selfish Raven Shawcross.
Suddenly, the door banged open, and it was shoved with such strength that it flew all the way in on its hinges and crashed into the wall. She jumped to her feet and whipped about to discover what had caused such an explosion.
There, looming in the threshold like an evil specter, was Raven Shawcross. He was dressed in his typical black clothes, and with how his eyes were shooting daggers, he appeared frighteningly sinister. As he marched in and slammed the door, she yelped with alarm and rushed behind the sofa, using it as a barrier to keep him at bay.
“I could have sworn I asked you to leave,” she said, “so why have you slithered in? Do you simply love to torment me?”
“No. I decided I had neglected to mention a very important point.”
“What was that?”
“I never listen to women, and I’m not about to start with you.”
He studied her as if he were a wolf and she his unlucky prey, and they engaged in an odd sort of dance, circling the sofa as they bickered. His temper hadn’t abated, and as she remained out of his reach, he grew visibly annoyed.
“Hold still, Rebecca!” he demanded, fury in his tone. “I won’t chase you around this stupid piece of furniture.”
“Tell me what you want.”
“I want you to cease behaving like such a shrew.”
“Me! A shrew? I’ve never behaved like a shrew in my life.”
“Really? What would you call your current conduct then?”
“I’d call it survival. You’re an imperious lunatic who likes to boss and command me. You manipulate me as if I’m your puppet. You yank on my strings and expect me to obey.”
“I haven’t begun to yank on your strings,” he muttered. “Now hold still!”
“Your days of ordering me about are finished.”
She braced her feet and rammed her fists onto her hips, which she’d recently learned was precisely how Sarah stood when she was angry. As he observed her posture, he smirked with disgust.
“Gad, I should have figured out you were Miss Robertson’s sibling. You’re an exact copy of her.”
“If I cared about your opinion, I’d ask what you mean by that, but I don’t care.”
“Your sister is a harpy who flaunts herself as if she were a man.”
“So? Maybe if a few more females pushed against you idiotic males, the world would be a better place.”
“Since you’re living with her and being subjected to her haughty influence, I’m not surprised by that remark.”
His denigration of Sarah lit a spark to her own temper. “Be silent, Mr. Shawcross! I won’t let you disparage her.”
“It’s Raven, remember? I suppose she’s filled your ears with despicable stories about me.”
“She didn’t have to. I have plenty of stories generated from my own experiences with you. She didn’t have to share a single one.”
“Yes, I’ve been a complete ass, haven’t I?”
His admission startled her. “Yes, and I’m sick of you and how you’ve treated me.”
“Why didn’t you tell me Nathan was your brother? Why keep it a secret?”
“Why would I have told you? First off, I previously explained that I never talk about my parents. And second, are you implying—if you’d known I was a Blake—you might have been nicer to me? Pardon me if I sneer at the notion. I’m certain you’d have been horrid no matter what.”
“I confess that I was predisposed to loathe you.”
“We’re finally delving to the truth of our situation.”
“You are a Carter after all, and I’ve spent twenty years plotting revenge.”
“Yes, yes, you’ve been very clear about it, and I’ve heard your insults. Are you about to repeat them? You needn’t bother. I recollect each and every one.”
“I’ve had such a lengthy vendetta, and it’s definitely causing me to wonder about my fascination with you.”
“Give yourself a bit of time. I’m sure it will wane. You’re such an intriguing fellow, what with your schemes and plans and retribution. You’re likely too busy to focus on me.”
“That’s what I assumed, but guess what?”
“What?”
“I rather like my obsession.”
“Am I to believe that you’ve suddenly developed a strident affection for me and you can’t put it aside?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what you should believe.”
Her pulse raced. During their short fling, she’d convinced herself that he was fond. Had she been correct? Was he fond? If so, where did it leave her? Where did it leave them?
The prospect of his having a heightened attachment was thrilling, but she shoved it away. If she allowed herself to think he was besotted, she’d turn into a gullible dunce who would swallow any lie he spewed.
Looking very sly, he asked, “Would you like me to tell you what’s been happening at Carter Crossing since you left?”
“No. I resided there for twenty-four years, but it was never my home. I’m not concerned about what’s happening.”
“Your Cousin Beatrice has been arrested.”
She gasped. “On what charge?”
“Embezzlement at Carter Imports. She constantly pilfered from the client accounts.”
Rebecca couldn’t decide if she was astonished or not. In her view, Beatrice seemed capable of any foul conduct. “She’s a thief? You’re not joking?”
“No, I’m not. As opposed to her dead husband, Charles—who stole from my father—she didn’t cover her tracks very well. She’s in jail, awaiting trial.”
“What will become of her?”
“She’ll either end up behind bars for an eternity or she’ll be transported to the penal colonies. So far, she hasn’t demonstrated the slightest remorse, and judges tend to frown on that sort of attitude. When she’s brought to court, she’ll face a harsher sentence because she refuses to evince any regret.”
Rebecca’s mind frantically whirred as she tried to deduce her feelings about Beatrice’s plight.
Beatrice had been cruel and had enjoyed torturing Rebecca, but she’d given Rebecca shelter for over two decades. Yet when Rebecca and Sarah were tiny girls, she’d been complicit in Sarah being sent to an orphanage. Then she’d hidden the contemptible deed by pretending Rebecca had had no sister.
What was Rebecca’s opinion about that? She and Sarah had been separated in the most painful, destructive way, and they we
re lucky that the orphanage had been managed by a sympathetic couple who’d been kind to Sarah. What if it hadn’t been? What if Sarah had been mistreated or abused?
She hadn’t been mistreated though, so was Beatrice resolved of guilt or blame? On the spur of the moment, Rebecca couldn’t determine the answer to that question.
He yanked her from her conflicted reverie. “She’s gone from Carter Crossing, and she’ll never return.”
“Has Clayton been informed? Has he visited her? Has he hired a lawyer to defend her?”
For a fleeting instant, there was a disturbing amount of mischief in his gaze, but it was swiftly masked. “Clayton has disappeared from London.”
“What do you mean by disappeared?”
“No one can find him. Gossip has it that he was being hounded by creditors and facing prison himself as a debtor, so he fled the country.”
“Where might he be?”
“I have no idea.”
He had such a virtuous expression, as if he was an innocent choirboy, and she tsked with disgust. “You have no idea?”
“He could be anywhere about now.”
She studied him keenly, overcome by the strongest sense that he was responsible for Clayton vanishing. He’d never admit it though, and she’d never be shrewd enough to pry the truth out of him.
“I don’t believe you,” she told him, “but I’m not in the mood to dicker over my relatives. If you’re finished dispensing your news from Carter Crossing, you can leave.”
“I’ve hardly begun.”
“Must I reiterate that I don’t care about what’s occurring there?”
Of course he ignored her. “The estate is mine and Carter Imports is mine too. I closed it, and I intended to tear down the house, but I’ve reconsidered. I’m reopening the company, and I won’t wreck the manor. The employees at the business have been rehired, and the servants at the manor have been retained.”
“What stirred this burst of generosity?”
He shrugged. “When it was time to take the final steps, I wasn’t nearly as happy as I had assumed I’d be. I was just hurting blameless people who didn’t deserve it.”
“I’m glad there’s a warm heart beating in your chest. Perhaps you’ll become a decent person after all.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” He grinned. “I’d ask you to supervise the house for me, but I already found someone else.”
His remark had dueling effects. Initially, it created a flutter of excitement. She’d have loved to run Carter Crossing, without Beatrice there to snipe and chastise her every move, but she wouldn’t have liked to run it for him. Then again, she was irked to hear he’d given the position away so she couldn’t arrogantly decline it.
“I wouldn’t have accepted it because I wouldn’t work for you if you were the last man on Earth.”
“I figured as much, and I wouldn’t have wanted you there. I have plans in mind for you, and they don’t include you working for me.”
He pronounced the word working in an odd fashion. No doubt he envisioned an illicit affair where he would coax her into further immoral antics, and why wouldn’t he presume he could coerce her?
In their brief acquaintance, she’d repeatedly proved she was no better than she had to be. If he viewed her as loose and wicked, it was her own fault.
She was about to scold him, but before she could, he inquired, “Aren’t you curious as to who will be in charge of the two ventures?”
She was dying of curiosity, but he looked so annoyingly smug. “No.”
He ignored her yet again. “Mr. Melville and Millicent will take the reins for me. By the way, they’re marrying on Friday. They asked me to invite you to the wedding and bring you to Carter Crossing so you could attend.”
Her jaw dropped. “Millicent is marrying Mr. Melville?”
“Yes.”
“When did that happen? How did that happen?”
“I should keep your cousin’s secrets, but they’re too scandalous, so I can’t. She flitted off to town with my brother, Lucas.”
“Oh, no.”
“Oh, yes, so she landed herself in quite a jam. Dear, faithful Mr. Melville rescued her, and as his reward, he gets to have her as his bride.”
“They’re marrying!” Rebecca said more to herself than to him. “Mr. Melville will be miserable forever.”
“Probably,” he agreed, “but for the moment, he’s happy as a lark, and I have supplied them with a home and an income to live on. Won’t you tell me how wonderful I’ve been?”
She scoffed. “If you extended any kind gestures, I’m sure you had an ulterior motive.”
“I confess it. I’ll make plenty of money with Carter Imports, and Melville is disgustingly honest. He won’t steal from me. At least he promised he won’t, and I’ve decided to trust him. What do you think? Will you attend the wedding with me?”
As they’d chatted, they’d stopped circling the sofa, but suddenly, he was sidling around it again as if he might catch her off guard. She held out a hand. “Stay right where you are, you bounder!”
Of course he didn’t listen. He kept coming, so she started walking again too.
She couldn’t let him touch her or she’d melt like a blob of hot wax. She’d never been able to resist him, and whenever he was near, her brain ceased to function. She’d behave like a ninny and believe any foolish comment, no matter how bizarre.
“I must share one other pesky detail,” he said. “The boy, Alex? Is he officially your ward? I’m not certain of your authority over him.”
She braced for any horrid news. “What about him? If you utter a hideous insult, I can’t predict how I’ll react.”
“His mother was a girl named Lydia.”
“I know that.”
“Lydia was my sister,” he declared.
“What?”
“Lydia was my little sister. It’s why I hate Clayton so much. I was in Africa when she passed away. I didn’t learn of her death until over a year later.”
“You mentioned the calamity before, but I didn’t realize she was your Lydia.”
“The tragedy—if there could be more of a tragedy than her dying—is that Lucas and I were apprised her baby had perished too. This entire decade, I had no idea that I had a nephew out there in the world.”
She was a bit slow in unraveling the situation. Like a dunce, she said, “Alex is your nephew?”
“Yes, and I intend to adopt him and rear him as my own son, but a boy needs a mother, so I should have a wife to help me.”
At the announcement, she felt as if he’d poked her with a stick. Alex was hers, and Raven Shawcross couldn’t have him!
“You want to adopt him?” she scornfully asked. “I’d be quite strongly opposed to that scheme.”
“Yes, I thought you might be.”
He preened as if he was toying with her, as if it was all a big joke, but at the prospect of losing Alex, she was particularly bereft. Alex would love to attach himself to rich, famous Raven Shawcross, but where would that leave her?
“You look upset, Rebecca,” he said.
“I am upset. You’re the most irritating brute I’ve ever met. You ruined me and broke my heart. I was evicted from Carter Crossing, and you didn’t even care. Then you track me to my brother’s home, and you torment me with threats of taking Alex. I can’t abide it. I really can’t!”
“I broke your heart? You admit it?”
“Yes, you broke it, you dolt!”
“That must mean you were fond of me.”
“If I was, you drummed it out of me that day at Oakley. You made your opinion very clear, and I’m over you.”
He raised a brow. “Are you?”
“Yes,” she lied.
He’d started walking faster, so she sped up too. They were racing around the sofa again, but at a frantic pace. He thwarted her by stepping onto the cushion and hefting himself over it so he landed in front of her.
S
he tried to scoot away, but before she could escape, he pinned her to the back of the sofa, his large, male body pressed to hers all the way down.
“Let me go!” she fumed.
“No. I like having you this close to me. I loathed talking to you when I couldn’t touch you.”
“You surrendered the right to touch me.”
“Tell me again how forlorn you are,” he said. “Tell me how miserable you’ve been without me.”
“No.”
“Then at least tell me you missed me.”
“I haven’t.”
As she voiced the falsehood, she couldn’t hold his gaze, and he chuckled. “You always were the worst liar.”
“Why would I miss you?” she asked. “What was there about our short acquaintance that furnished any benefit to me at all? Name one thing.”
He pretended to ponder, then he shrugged. “I can’t think of any benefit.”
“You’re correct! There was no benefit to me. I came to you that one time and begged for assistance. I never doubted that you’d take me in; I was that certain of your affection.”
“I can be so horrid, can’t I?”
“Yes, so what woman would want a man like you in her life? Not me, that’s for sure.”
She couldn’t believe she’d uttered the terrible comment. She’d love to have him for her very own—if he ever acted like a sane human being. He flaunted his wealth and used it to destroy people. He’d seduced her with wicked intent, having no inclination to wed her afterward. How could he look at himself in the mirror in the morning?
“Can I share another secret?” he asked.
“No. If your conscience is bothering you, you should find a preacher.”
He snorted. “Your brother and brother-in-law are lurking out in the hall.”
She scowled. “Why?”
“They ordered me to propose.” He huffed with offense. “They didn’t give me any choice about it either.”
She bristled. “Is that what this is about? My brother ordered you to come in here, so you did?”
“Yes. After you were so rude to me, I was about to slink off to Oakley with my tail between my legs, but he wouldn’t let me leave.”