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Authors: Mary Adair

BOOK: Passion's Series
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Chapter Nine

"Time to wake up, Dawn." Sara nudged Dawn lying on blankets spread on the floor. "We must hurry. Mr. Cloud is waiting in the parlor."

There was no need for Sara's insistence. Dawn awakened the moment Sara had pushed open the door.

"What time is it?" Dawn asked as she rolled over onto her back and glanced toward the window. "Oh my, I can't believe I slept so long."

"It's nearly noon. The Ladies are concerned 'bout you sleeping so late. Of course, they don't know you were out all night." Sara dropped her chin and glanced through her lashes. "That thing you did at sunrise in the garden." Her cheeks reddened with uncertainty. "The entire household is in an uproar."

Dawn shoved the blanket back and sat up. "I didn't know anyone would be up that early. And even if they were, why were they in the garden?"

Sara sat back on her heels. "The gentry may sleep late, but the household staff is up by dawn," she answered with maddening logic.

Dawn groaned as she rubbed her eyes. Why hadn't she thought of that? Of course the servants started their work early. Some warrior she turned out to be. She had to focus.

"In fact," Sara continued as she pushed herself up, "we barely made it back from the docks before the whole house was up. By the time you got undressed and stepped into that pond, there wasn't one servant still abed. The only reason you didn't see anyone on your way to your room was that they were all hidin' in embarrassment." Sara went to the wardrobe and pulled out a dress, which she held up for Dawn's inspection.

Dawn waved her hand in approval and then dropped backwards with a low groan. The whole household knew about her little lapse in judgment. But would they have mentioned it to Raven? Possibly not. She could still have a chance to explain it to the Ladies before Raven heard about it. Feeling a little calmer, she sat up and watched Sara rush about gathering up the various articles of clothing.

Sara laid the clothes out carefully. "Cook often strolls through the garden in the wee hours of the morning." She said carefully. "She says it helps her to prepare for the day."

Dawn looked at her with sudden realization. "Theresa?"

Sara nodded and smiled mischievously.

Dawn returned the smile and the stiffness left her face. "Well, if it had to be told, better Theresa than anyone else." Regret for her actions flooded her. To embarrass her hostesses was never her intent. "There was nothing wrong with what I did," Dawn said in her defense.

Sara's expression, a cross between mischief and compassion, told Dawn that Sara had enjoyed her moment of teasing. "Oh, we understand what you did," Sara told her with a grin. "Mr. Cloud explained it, and it sounds like a lovely custom. Now please come and get ready." She yanked the covers from the pallet where Dawn still sat. "We mustn't keep Mr. Cloud waiting."

Dawn giggled and snatched up a pillow from the floor and tossed it at Sara who caught it easily. They both laughed. Sara was good for her, she decided. It was good knowing she had a friend she could count on. Dawn knew she faced a rebuke, but her determination was renewed. She would not be ashamed of her actions. She was not a lady. She was Cherokee and proud of it!

She rose easily from her pallet, splashed water on her face and quickly dressed. Sara followed close behind, working at combing out her hair. In less than fifteen minutes, she pushed open the study doors.

"I'm glad to see that you are finally awake," Raven said as he turned from the tall window. With a slow nod toward the only uncomfortable chair in the room, he indicated for her to sit.

Dawn made no move toward the chair. Instead she looked about the room. Only Raven and she were present. The first chance in days to be alone with Raven and he wore a rain cloud on his face. Instinctively, she stiffened her spine.

Raven placed his drink on a nearby table and rubbed the back of his neck in a gesture only too familiar to her. "You have once again upset this household. Did you really find it necessary to greet the sun this morning in the garden pond?"

"Do you really find it necessary to be so dramatic?" She sighed heavily. "I have done this all my life. It is a part of who I am. I see no harm..."

"That's the problem, Dawn. You never see the harm. You just stripped yourself and stood in the middle of a small pond in the center of a very large garden..." He paused, then his true concern came spurting out. "Did you know that William's room overlooks the garden?" he asked in total frustration.

Dawn dropped her head to hide the tiny smile fighting its way onto her face. Her heart sang to know that jealousy added motivation to his present frustration. In fact, in his jealous insecurity, he'd forgotten Lady Montgomery made William move out.

"No. I didn't know," she answered him as meekly as she could.

"Well it does." Raven turned his back to her and looked out the large window. He flinched when she touched his shoulder. When he turned and met her gaze, she gave him her most apologetic look. "I'm sorry, Raven. I didn't realize."

"Your window faces the garden. Didn't you even consider that someone else's might as well?"

She lowered her eyes and tucked in her chin. "No. Truly I didn't." Raven pulled her to him and Dawn wrapped her arms around his waist, grateful for whatever mood created this impulsive gesture. "I'm sorry, Raven. From now on I'll greet the sun from my window."

Raven gave her a quick squeeze and released her. "There will be no need. Both of William's grandmothers are all packed up and ready to go. I have a walled garden with a pond at Manor Oaks. You will be free to greet the sun there as you wish."

Dawn knew the magic moment had passed. She hated to lie to Raven, but it was necessary. "I'm not feeling well, Raven."

Raven tilted her head back and looked hard at her face. She knew he was studying the dark circles under her eyes. "I'm sorry. I should have realized you must be ill to still be abed. Of course, we'll wait until you feel better. I'll send for a doctor at once."

"No." Dawn reached out and caught his arm before he could pull the bell cord. "I'll be fine in about five days. Surely you understand." She lowered her eyes and caught her lip between her teeth as she feigned embarrassment.

"Of course." He combed his long strong fingers through his hair, starting at the temple all the way back to his neck.

Dawn grinned as she peeked at him through her lashes. "I like your hair loose."

Raven frowned. "Go to your room, Dawn. We'll leave when your time is up."

Dawn stiffened, then dropped in a deep curtsy. "Thank you, sir.”

It was all Raven could do not to grin when she straightened, and he could see the spirit sparkle in her eyes. He did grin when she turned in a huff and marched from the room.

As he watched her proud retreat, he pulled the bell cord. Sara immediately entered the room. "Dawn isn't feeling well. She'll be staying in her room for the next few days. Please check on her needs often."

"Of course, Mr. Cloud." Sara bobbed. "Will there be anything else?"

"No, thank you. Oh, yes, do you know if Lord Montgomery is about?"

"He's in the kitchen with his grandmothers. Lady Montgomery said you were not to be disturbed while you chatted with Miss Fitz-Gerald. I'll tell them your conversation is completed."

"That won't be necessary," William said from the doorway. "I heard Dawn slam her door and knew it would be safe to come in now. I suppose from the sounds she made, you told her it was time to leave for the country."

Raven indicated that Sara could go as he spoke to William. "We will not be leaving for another five days."

"Why the delay? I was rather anxious to be on our way."

"No more anxious than I to send you," Raven answered contritely. "The situation is unavoidable, however. It's her time of confinement. Her being here in England restricts her customs enough. I'll not interfere with this one."

"Her what?"

"It is a Cherokee custom. Every month when a woman's monthly time comes, she puts herself into confinement. Absolutely no contact with men. It's not even a conversation you and I should be having."

William laughed as he removed his Baoding Balls from his pocket and rolled them in his hand. "The men must really look forward to that." At Raven's obvious look of discomfort, William raised both hands. "I understand, end of that conversation. By the way, have you heard any word from your Bow Street Runner?"

"Yes. There's a new kid out on the pier according to Mr. Farley, 'the mean, scrawny type'. I suspect that means 'the thin and underfed type.' Farley said he appeared to be pretty tough in spite of his size. He and the rest of the gang kicked around in the warehouse ashes."

William made himself comfortable in a large chair by the window. He pushed a heavy drape aside and looked out. "There is a definite chill to the air this morning. Looks like we might have an early winter. If we don't get Dawn off soon, she will just have to stay till spring."

He turned his attention back to Raven. "What are you going to do, about the boy I mean?"

"I've given instructions for him to be shanghaied and put on the first ship headed out of port. I will interrogate him first myself before he sails."

"Isn't that kind of harsh? What if he knows nothing about the fire and just happened to be snooping around for whatever he can find to survive?"

"Why would you think it harsh?" Raven snapped, then reined in his temper. He still stung from William's remark about Dawn remaining till spring. "If he knows something and shares it with us, sailing will be his reward," he added in a reasoning tone. "Even if he knows nothing, it will be his chance at a new life. He'll learn a trade while he's fed regular meals with a safe place to sleep. He'll be a better man for it."

William shrugged his shoulders and looked out the window once more. "I suppose you're right. Since you're sending Farley instead of going yourself, I assume you have other plans for tonight."

"I promised Marguerite I would escort her to a small gathering at Lord Blake's. Care to join us?"

"Lord, no!" William tossed off his drink. "I don't care to ever again attend one of Blake's small gatherings. Believe me, once will be enough for you as well. I'll go out with Mr. Farley tonight. Frankly, I don't trust the man and I'd hate to see the young scamp damaged to the point he must recover before he can tell us anything."

 

Chapter Ten

"Hello, darling," Marguerite held the door wide. "Come in." Her black hair cascaded over one shoulder in soft waves that reached to her waist. Her scarlet painted lips spread slowly and seductively as she stepped back to let him enter.

Raven sauntered through the door, making a show of looking about the well-furnished entryway, which had become so familiar to him these last few months. "Where's your butler?"

"Oh, I gave him and the rest of the servants the night off," she answered with a wave of her hand. She shut the door behind him and slid home the bolt. "We are quite alone, my love, to pursue whatever delights we wish."

Raven took note of the icy blue silk robe. It was obvious she wore nothing beneath the luxurious garment. Her full breasts pushed against the taut fabric. The tight sash showed off her tiny waist as the delicate cloth clung to her shapely hips and legs. A month ago the sight would have aroused him. Even the thickening of her accent to let him know she was hot, would have excited him. Oh, how much his life had changed in such a short space of time.

"I see you're not dressed." He removed his gloves and hat and set them on a small, nearby table.

"No, darling, I'm not dressed.. .at least not to go out for the evening," she purred. "This very soft, very clinging robe is all I have on." She accentuated the cling of the fabric against her skin as she seductively rubbed her hands along her body. Her eyelids lowered slightly and she moaned ever so softly as she caressed herself.

Raven watched her lewd actions with little interest. He was ashamed to admit to himself that at one time, he would have found her little act titillating. Now, she only reminded him of a whore in a brothel. Why had he not made that comparison before? He was surprised to realize he was physically sickened by her performance. "I know you like to be fashionably late, but this little delay would be far more than fashionable."

She seemed unaware of the repugnance she engendered. "Come." She glanced at the stairway as she ran the fingers of her right hand along the low neck of her robe. "Let us go upstairs, Oui?"

She didn't wait, but trailed a finger across his chest as she walked slowly past him to step onto the stairs. She glanced over her shoulder and spoke in a husky voice as she raised her foot to the next tread. "I know you have had such a trying day, poor darling, what with the fire and Dawn's escapades."

"Ah, you gave all the servants the night off so you could lift my spirits?" He smiled as he fought to keep the mockery from his voice.

Marguerite answered in her most seductive purr, "This iz correct. Will you not join me in my room? I have a surprise waiting there for you." She had reached the top of the stairs and slowly loosened the tie about her waist to let the robe fall open.

Struggling to control his rising uneasiness, Raven asked, "Are you not afraid of what the gossips might say with my carriage parked right out front for so long a time?"

She tossed her ebony curls as if the matter were of no importance to her. "If you are so concerned, have your man take it around back. Or better, have him leave and come for you in the morning." She didn't wait to see what he would do. Instead, she went straight to her room, so certain was she in her ability to bend him to her will.

Raven's instincts shouted at him to leave, but he knew he owed Marguerite better than that. After all, however improper she might be, she was acknowledged as his fiancée. With a soft curse, he climbed the stairs. Marguerite was already in her room. He most certainly didn't need her to show him the way. He'd spent as much time in her bed as she had in his. Tonight would be no new story for the gossips, and he well imagined the tongues were wagging already.

No, he had to admit to himself, he wasn't concerned with the gossips. He was simply stalling. It was clear to him this liaison had to come to an end.. .preferably in a civil manner. He wondered if she sensed his reluctance, even his repugnance. Repulsed or not, he had to do this right. He could only hope to
rekindle whatever loyalties he once felt toward her and not let her see his true feelings. He saw no reason to cause her more pain than necessary.

At the top of the stairs, he looked down the hallway. Marguerite’s rooms took up most of the second floor of the small townhouse. He gave a heavy, self-recriminating sigh and wondered why he ever entangled himself with a woman like Marguerite. But he knew the answer. It was just part of the game, a game with no rules and no place for regrets. It was a game a man like him and a woman like Marguerite could play very well.

Raven gathered his resolve as he strode down the hall in her wake. Unbidden thoughts of Dawn filled his mind. Before him appeared the apparition of soft blue eyes that could turn from cool disdain to tender longing, to heated passion so quickly it sometimes staggered him.

He remembered the texture of Dawn's hair so well his fingers tingled with the thought. His mouth hungered for the honeyed taste of her lips, as his body hungered for the feel of her in his arms.

"Do hurry, Raven," Marguerite spoke from her doorway.

Raven's eyes met hers. When he entered, she wrapped her arms about his neck and pulled him to her. She grasped his hair to force his head down so she could bring her lips to his. She kissed him greedily, even passionately. At least, a month ago, he would have thought it passionate. Now it seemed mere groping, coupled with hedonistic demands. Raven could not help but compare her wanton attack on his mouth to Dawn's sweet kisses.

Marguerite forced her tongue into his mouth as her fingers pulled at his shirt. He grabbed her wrist and broke off the kiss. He wondered briefly if his repulsion was more for her or himself.

"Marguerite, please." He stepped back, seeking distance between them to cool her ardor. "I know our relationship has been strained since Dawn's arrival. I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but there are things we must discuss."

Slowly the passion in Marguerite’s eyes changed to a different kind of heat. She lowered her lids to hide her rising anger, but Raven had already seen the flash of change. When her eyes rose once again to meet his, her gaze was inscrutable.

He hated to hurt her, and felt responsible. A feeling of guilt washed over him. Then he reminded himself she was no child. She was a woman who had been married before and knew the ways of men and women. She had entered this relationship with her eyes open.

"Mon amour, it is sweet of you to worry so about me." With a casual shrug, she turned her back to him. She indicated the large tub in the center of the room. Steam drifted upwards. At least one poor maid had not been given the night off. She must have labored hard to fill the big tub with boiling water for it to still be so hot. To one side was an arrangement of cheese, crunchy bread, fruit on a silver tray and a bottle of wine.

Marguerite tilted her chin and pouted as her fingers worried the fabric of her robe. "I have prepared a wonderful evening for us." She looked up slyly from beneath her lashes. "We have shared many such evenings, have we not? Yet tonight you are worried about my happiness. I can tell you what would make me happy." She moved closer. "Oui, we have much to discuss. I think it iz time we set a date for our wedding. Do you not agree?"

"Have you considered how our lives have changed since Dawn's arrival? Do you really think we can go on as before?" Raven hated saying these things, but she wasn't listening, wasn't hearing what he said. "Dawn will always have a part in my life, Marguerite. Could you be happy married to me under those conditions?"

She placed a hand over her heart as she turned to face him. "You are zo concerned about my happiness. This truly is very sweet. But instead, should you not worry more about your ward's reputation and the health of the two old dears who now have the burden of watching over her for you?"

She walked to the silver tray and picked up a grape and examined it closely. "I fear your impulsive ward may well be too much for two elderly women." Small straight teeth nipped the skin of the grape. As she sucked the sweet juice from the fruit, she gazed into Raven's eyes. When he failed to respond, she shrugged daintily and plopped the remainder of the grape into her mouth. She chewed it slowly as she poured a glass of wine for herself.

"Are you aware Dawn told the two dears about this horrible thing called a Blood Cry?" She twirled the stem of the glass and focused on the swirling red
liquid. "And how it iz up to her to see it through on your behalf?" She took a sip of wine as she studied Raven over the rim.

Raven was unsure of this new game Marguerite played, but he would guarantee her concern was false.

The glass lowered and she licked her lips before speaking again. "I can tell you, poor Lady Montgomery went white as a sheet. I did my best to make it out to all as a silly joke to calm her." She reached for a cube of cheese. "You know, just a parlor story meant to entertain." She tried to press a cube of cheese to his lips, but he turned his head aside and stepped away. "Won't you have a bite, darling?" Her teeth nipped at the cheese.

Raven worked to hold his composure. "No, thank you. I'm really not hungry."

"Too bad." She placed the nibbled piece of cheese back on the tray. "To finish what I was saying..."

Raven wished she would do just that.

"I think I helped to ease the tension Dawn caused those two dear ladies. But really, darling, I do believe she will be the death of one of them. That would be terrible. I think you should send her home to her family. She iz not happy here, and I am not happy with her here. See it iz a simple solution. If you like she may attend our wedding before she goes."

The bad wind that had followed Raven like an evil spirit for the last several weeks taunted him. He let out a deep sigh. "Dawn is a grown woman. I may want to send her home, but in the end she will do as her heart leads her. But whatever she decides, she will always play a part in my life."

"Oh, really darling?" She flowed in his direction.

Raven raised a hand to stop her approach. Her jealousy glowed in her eyes. She had reason to be jealous, he supposed. Not that there had ever been any great declarations of love between them. In fact, over the last few months, he came to realize Marguerite was incapable of loving anyone other than herself. "We both need some time to think things out. I have always tried to be honest with you,
Marguerite. I think its best we not see each other for a few weeks to give ourselves a chance to consider our circumstances.”

Raven watched as her fingers balled into fists and her eyes filled with tears of rage. She cursed between clinched teeth, "The devil take you and your Cherokee whore!"

Whether her anger stemmed from him denying her wishes or her genuinely caring for him, he didn't know. Either way, he felt vulgar for having let a tawdry relationship based only on physical need escalate into a formal engagement. How had he let himself become so entangled with—no, entrapped by—this woman? Even if Dawn had not shown up, he knew he could never have let himself settle for this faulty union with Marguerite. At the same time, he hated casting her aside and wounding her pride. No matter how base their liaison, she deserved a dignified end to their association.

"I don't want it to end this way," he offered and knew when he heard his own words they were trite in the face of her raging emotions. He turned to leave, pulling the door closed as he left. Behind him he heard a crash hit the door as he made his escape.

 

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