Chapter 5
IT HAD BEEN TWELVE YEARS since Margaret had last seen him.
That had been at her sister’s engagement party.
She’d been only eleven at the time and not interested in the young men who’d been present—until he showed up.
She’d always found him somewhat fascinating, the most eligible bachelor in the neighborhood, handsome and charming.
Most females were fascinated by him, no matter their age.
But her encounter with him that night had fixed him in her mind as a romantic hero to whom she’d unfortunately been comparing every man she’d met since.
She wasn’t surprised she hadn’t recognized him immediately, though.
Rude and menacing, this fellow was nothing like the charming young man who’d dazzled her all those years ago.
He was now staring at her as if she were daft. She couldn’t blame him. Amazed and delighted, she explained what prompted her laughter. “I find this rather funny. I came here to ask you to find a man for me, and here you are, that very man.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“So this is how you’ve been hiding yourself, Sebastian? By assuming this Raven identity?”
“Who the hell are you?”
“Margaret Landor. My father was George Landor, sixth earl of Millwright. You might remember him. My sister was—”
He cut her off. “Good God, you’re little Maggie Landor?” “Not so little anymore.” “No, I can see that.”
His eyes were suddenly all over her. She blushed but said curtly, “None of that, now. I know what a ladies’ man you were, before the tragedy.”
His manner stiffened again now that he’d recovered from the surprise, and he was scowling at her. Because she’d mentioned the tragedy?
“You’re here with your husband?” he asked.
“I don’t have one yet.”
“Your father, then?”
“He died six years ago. And before you come up with any more relatives you think should be accompanying me, let me clarify my situation for you. I currently live alone, since I am quite old enough to do so.”
“What about your sister? Did she marry?”
“Oh, yes—and died. But I’ll get to that.”
She blamed Sebastian for Eleanor’s death. She’d been hoping she could deal with him without that getting in the way, but she wasn’t so sure now. He was definitely not the charming young man from her memories.
She continued, “I had a guardian. He suggested I have a comeout. I laughed at him. I suggested he should marry me. He laughed at me. We get on very well. I’ve come to consider him my friend rather than my guardian.
And I’m twenty-three now, so he’s no longer officially my guardian.
But I lived in his home for four years after my father died.
I still visit him from time to time, and occasionally act as his hostess when he finds it necessary to entertain.
His daughter-in-law is useless in that regard. ”
“Is there a reason you’re telling me about your guardian, or do you just like to hear yourself talk?”
“Not such a charmer anymore, eh?” she said dryly.
He just stared at her, waiting for his answer. She gave it to him. “My guardian was your father.”
“Bloody hell,” he swore. “Not another word about my family, d’you hear? Not one!”
She tsked, ignoring the ominous look that had come over him. “You’ll be hearing more’n one, Sebastian. It’s why I’m here. I’m quite fond of your father, you see, and I fear for his life. I suspect that your brother and his wife have gotten tired of waiting for their titles.”
He reached across the corner of the table separating them, grasped the front of her jacket, and yanked her forward so her face was mere inches from his. “What part of ‘not another word’ didn’t you understand?”
Margaret was actually intimidated. There wasn’t much that could dent her dauntless nature, but he looked positively frightening with his golden eyes aglow.
Still, she took a deep breath, reminding herself who he was and who she was.
Calmly, at least she hoped she appeared calm, she pried his fingers off of her jacket.
“Don’t do that again,” she said simply.
“It’s time for you to leave, Lady Margaret.”
“No, it’s time for you to listen. Good God, man, lives are at stake! Show some semblance of your former noblesse and—”
Margaret stopped, incredulous. He was walking away from her! Intimidating her hadn’t worked, so without a by your leave he was simply exiting the room. She supposed that was better than him tossing her out, but really, this was intolerable.
“Coward.”
He stopped, his back to her, stiff as thick metal. She immediately regretted using that particular word. She amended, “That is to say—”
She didn’t finish again. He turned, burning her with his eyes. She found herself holding her breath.
“The problem here,” he said in a tone that was deceptively conversational, “is you’ve made the assumption that I give a damn about a family that disowned me, when I don’t.”
“Rubbish. Blood is blood, and you were very close to your father before—”
“That was then. It sure as hell has nothing to do with now.”
“He overreacted. Did you ever consider that?” “Did he tell you that?”
Margaret stifled a groan, forced to admit, “Well, no, he never mentioned you a’tall during my stay there.”
He turned to leave again. His total lack of concern appalled her. Of course, she hadn’t gotten to the heart of the problem yet.
She rushed on, determined to intrigue him before he got out the door.
“I heard them fighting once when I lived there, your brother and his wife. I didn’t hear all the words, only a few here and there.
You were mentioned, and ‘friend.’ But I did hear Denton clearly say, ‘didn’t have to kill him.
’ I must say, I was aghast. But try as I might, I couldn’t figure out who he was talking about.
Now, I didn’t assume they killed anyone.
No indeed. What I heard was out of context, so it could have been anyone they were talking about, not themselves.
However, it bothered me ever since. And I began to watch them after that. ”
It worked! He turned around to ask, “And what did you ascertain?”
“They really don’t like each other. I can’t imagine why they married.”
“Who did Denton marry?”
“Giles’s widow, Juliette. I thought I’d mentioned that.”
“No, you did not!”
Margaret winced at his raised tone. For a brief moment, she saw just how livid he was. But he got his anger under control so quickly that she had to wonder if she’d imagined it.
“Why search for me now?” he asked, his tone merely curt. “Why not sooner, when you first suspected something?”
“Because I had nothing really to point to, just feelings of unease. Until the accidents began.”
“What accidents?”
“Your father’s. But I did try to find you sooner.
Last year I hired men to locate you. They cost me a lot of money and ended up telling me what I’d already suspected—that you’d left England for the Continent.
So I tried to find you myself. I’ve been in Europe now for four months looking for you.
I’d given up, though. I was on my way home when I heard of The Raven. Coming here was a last resort.”
He shook his head. Not in amazement. Oh, no. She sensed he was about to tell her to leave again. It wasn’t in his expression, which was utterly inscrutable. But she knew instinctively. The facts hadn’t stirred him. Perhaps guilt would...
“I’ll tell you up front, Sebastian. I don’t like you.
If you hadn’t killed Giles, I think he would have come to his senses, divorced that French tart, and married my sister as he should have.
It’s your fault he’s dead. It’s your fault Eleanor ran off and married a poor farmer, then died in childbirth—”
“How in the bloody hell can you blame that on me?” he snarled.
“You weren’t there to see what Giles’s death did to my sister.
She loved Giles dearly, you know. She mourned him till the day she left.
She was sad and angry by turns. Sad mostly.
Angry every time she encountered Juliette.
But she cried every single day from the day you killed Giles.
My home became quite maudlin, I don’t mind admitting.
It was actually a relief when she took herself off.
I’m guilty of having felt that way. I think my father felt the same way.
We weren’t happy that she was gone, but then we—were. Very uncomfortable feelings.”
“Where did she go?”
“We didn’t know for the longest time. She left a note, but it was so tear stained it was illegible. We worried ourselves sick over her whereabouts. I think that contributed to my father’s decline. He died several years later.”
“I suppose you blame his death on me, too?” he asked sarcastically.
She scowled at him. “I could. It’s all related, after all. But I don’t.”
“I won’t bear the guilt for your sister’s death either,” he insisted.
“I’m not surprised. You’ve obviously divorced yourself from all meaningful responsibilities,” she said derisively.
“But as I was saying, Eleanor finally got around to sending a letter, explaining that she just couldn’t bear to live with us anymore, so close to Giles’s home, visiting his grave every day. It was killing her, she said.”
“Yes, but where did she go?”
“Not very far, actually, to live with a distant cousin on my mother’s side who settled in Scotland.
Harriet was her name and she was a bit of a wild card, if you know what I mean.
She married down, which caused a scandal in her day and was why my father would have nothing more to do with her and made sure I had a guardian before he died.
He greatly admired your father, you know.
Anyway, Harriet was a bad influence on Eleanor, apparently, since my sister married down as well, then died in childbirth because there were no doctors nearby to deal with the complications of that birth. ”
“Which could have happened regardless of where she was or why she was there.”
“Yes, but she was there because you killed the man she loved.”
“A man who’d already married someone else,” he reminded her. “Why the devil do I get the blame here instead of Giles?”
“Because he would have come to his senses.”
“Supposition.”
“Hardly,” she replied dryly. “You made Juliette an adulteress, if you’ll recall. D’you really think he would have stayed married to her—if he’d survived that duel?”
She’d gone for blood and had succeeded in drawing it if his expression was a guide. The blasted man deserved it, though. Why was he being so stubborn about this? She couldn’t have made it more clear that he was needed at home.
Even though she’d stabbed home her point, he still said, “You should have just laid your cards before the local constable.”
“With what evidence?” Margaret countered. “Mere suspicions? Yet your father was nearly run over in London, and dangled from the bloody cliff for nearly an hour before someone found him, and, well, the list goes on, but even he thinks his accidents were just that, accidents.”
“Which is probably all they were. You’ve overstayed your welcome, which you didn’t have to begin with.” And then he added coldly, “I’m done with my family. Why the bloody hell do you think I’ve stayed away from England all these years?”
“Must I hire you to discover if the accidents were truly accidents or something more sinister?”
“A hundred thousand pounds,” he said.
Margaret gritted her teeth. He’d named that outrageous figure just to prove he wasn’t available to her. She knew it and wasn’t going to let him get away with it.
“Done,” she replied without inflection. “Shall we leave in the morning?”
“Wait just a minute. I wasn’t serious.”
“Too bad. I was. And if you renege now I will have you discredited. Word will spread immediately that The Raven isn’t trustworthy.”
“You’re going to regret this,” he said ominously.
“No, you will, if you do nothing after my warnings. Your brother and sister-in-law might despise each other, but I fear they are in agreement on having Edgewood to themselves. Someone has to put a stop to these accidents before someone actually dies, and I think you’re the only one who can do it.”
“I’d say they deserve whatever befalls them.”
“Even if she instigated the duel that sent you packing?”