Chapter 6
The lady and her uncle returned from their garden walk. Her cheeks were flushed, but she looked happy. Such joy had not echoed through these dark, desolate halls in quite some time. She announced she would retire to her room for a rest and wished to look over the ledgers during afternoon tea.
Gabriel frowned as he watched her disappear up the curved staircase.
“I trust that’s not an inconvenience for you?” came a voice behind him.
He stiffened. The voice jolted through him like a needle. He hadn’t realized the man was standing there, watching him watch her.
Gabriel turned slowly, his jaw tight and his gaze unreadable. “Not at all, sir.”
Hubert said nothing more. He ascended the stairs for his own afternoon rest.
Gabriel’s fists clenched at his sides. He disliked the man’s presence drifting through his halls, peering at him with those beady, suspicious eyes. He did not seem in any hurry to leave the manor and return to his city life.
He sensed the shift in the surrounding air. He exhaled, and his breath misted in the air, curling like smoke. The scent of lilacs and roses followed, faint but unmistakable. He froze.
You should be rid of him. And soon. Before something dreadful happens.
The voice, soft, lilting, disembodied, whispered at his ear. He hadn’t heard her in years. And yet…there she was.
It wasn’t merely a warning. It was a promise.
The malevolent force that haunted Ravenfell had been dormant for many long years.
But from the moment Miss Ravenwood arrived with her uncle in tow things began to stir.
Shadows clung to the corners of the west wing.
Cold patches settled in the child’s room she had insisted on opening. Something unseen awakened.
And he knew it was her.
Stalking. Watching. Waiting.
“Please don’t,” he whispered. “He means no harm.”
Doesn’t he? the voice returned. He doesn’t trust you.
Gabriel closed his eyes and expelled a slow breath. He didn’t need the voice to tell him that. It was evident in Hubert Pembroke’s glances, in the tight line of his jaw, the glint of suspicion in his eyes.
He’ll want to see the ledgers. You cannot allow that.
“Go away,” Gabriel snapped.
The scent drifted off with a chuckle. Then everything returned to normal.
Gabriel remained at the base of the stairs, rooted in place. The only sound was the steady tick of the grandfather clock and then, faintly, the tinkling of piano keys echoing from the parlor. Three soft notes, then silence.
Her way of signaling she was leaving. For now.
She would return. She always did.
He sighed. As much as he hated to admit it, she was right. Hubert Pembroke would want to see the ledgers.
His first order of business was to do what he could to conceal the truth.
He hurried from the foyer to the study tucked at the end of the corridor in the east wing on the first floor. He pushed open the dark-stained oak door and entered, preferring to leave the lamps unlit and use the faint light from the window instead.
He knew where he was headed and, anyway, the gloom suited him.
Inside, the stale, unused room smelled of old parchment, leather bindings, and the mineral oil used to polish the wood desk. Beneath that, though, the lingering scent of wood smoke and something older like tobacco permeated in the wainscoting. Dust settled into the velvet curtains on the window.
Bookcases lined the walls from floor to ceiling, crammed full of old books that were in every shape and binding.
Some with cracked leather covers. Others with fraying cloth.
Most were ledgers, estate records, and obscure volumes on local law and plant lore.
A narrow ladder rested against one shelf, though Gabriel didn’t need to use it. He’d memorized the layout of this room.
The mahogany desk stood before the cold, silent hearth.
A monstrosity that once hosted the lord of the manor.
Though the wood had been polished years ago, the scent remained despite its dull sheen.
One corner was cluttered with sealing wax, quills, stacks of parchment that were unanswered letters and invitations from ages past. As though the former owner left them there with the intention of returning and answering them but never had.
The ledgers were locked inside the cabinet to the left of the desk. Not all of them. Only those. The ones that whispered secrets no one need hear.
As Gabriel knelt before the cabinet, a gust of cold brushed the back of his neck. The shadows in the corners shifted.
Lenore.
He reached for the key in his pocket, the one he kept on him at all times. With shaking fingers, he stuck it in the lock. Or tried. He missed once, twice, until he finally managed to slide it inside and twist.
Nevermore.
Her lilting voice brushed his ear, sending cold tingles erupting across his skin.
“Don’t,” he said, his voice hard and cold in warning.
Though what warning he could give her, he didn’t know.
He pulled open the cabinet door and was greeted with dust and cobwebs.
No one had been in this cabinet for years.
Not since he’d hidden these away never to be seen again.
Not since he’d tucked away the last pieces of Abner Ravenwood’s investigation.
Gabriel had hidden the journal deep inside, locked away with the hope it would never be found.
Now, with the looming threat of Hubert Pembroke and his banker’s eye, he had to move the ledgers before they were discovered, before he was forced to show them everything.
These were the real ones. Not the tidy duplicate residing in the uppermost drawer of the desk.
The one meant for review by a sharp-eyed banker.
As he reached inside, his hand brushed over the leather-bound journal, still tied.
He pushed it aside and grabbed the first ledger.
This one was bound in cracked, blackened leather.
He lifted it with care. Mold and mildew clung to the damp cover from being too long in the dark.
Lenore was stirring again.
His first intent was to get them out, all of them.
He’d hide them somewhere else. The priest hole beneath the wine cellar, perhaps.
Or the root cellar where no rat dared scurry.
He pulled out the second. As he reached for the final one, the heaviest one with his sins written there, he noticed a corner sticking out.
As though the page had been disturbed by someone or something.
With a shaking hand, he opened it to that page and froze. His throat tightened.
Fresh ink was penned in the center. Written there was one familiar name.
Victoria Ravenwood
With trembling fingers, he closed it with a muffled snap. His stomach dropped.
He recognized the familiar looping script of a woman long dead. He knew all too well what was written within those pages. He dropped the books to the floor, closed and locked the cabinet. Snatching up the books, he staggered to his feet.
If her name was scrawled there on the page, then there must be more to it. More he had yet to see or read. Did he dare?
He was certain he had to know. Hiding them in the root cellar would not do. He needed to read them so to prepare for what may come. Because, above all, he needed to protect Victoria.
You cannot stop it. No matter what you do.
Ignoring the taunt, Gabriel tucked the books under his arm and turned to go, when he heard a creak outside the door. He halted, his heart ramming hard in chest as he waited.
Victoria appeared in the open doorway.
As if her name in the book conjured her.
He couldn’t let her see this. He couldn’t let anyone see this. Her name burned behind his eyes like a brand and he didn’t know what it meant. Not yet.
Her eyes were wide and round as her gaze fixed on the bundle under his arms.
“Oh,” she said on a breath. “I thought I heard someone in here. Are those the ledgers?”
Gabriel forced a smile. “Old estate records. I ran across them while I was gathering the books for you. They’re from decades ago, long before your parents’ time. Most are riddled with mold and rot. I thought it best to move them somewhere drier before they completely fall apart.”
She shifted, her gaze flickering from his face to the bundle under his arms. “May I see them?”
He chucked lightly. Too lightly. “Truly, there’s nothing of interest. Inventory lists. Grain tallies. Ledgers from before Ravenfell was even Ravenfell. I promise, the more relevant books are in far better condition.”
He hustled by her, leaving her standing in the doorway. With his heart in his throat, he managed to escape the study and further scrutiny by the lovely Victoria Ravenwood. Once he stashed these books, he’d return to grab the legitimate ones and meet her and her uncle in the parlor for tea.
A simple plan. And it would take all his calm to pull it off.