Prince of Ravenscar

by Catherine Coulter

  He was lying, Sophie knew it to her stockinged feet. Did anyone else?

  How can she know I’m lying? I know she does, I can see it in her eyes. Julian had brooded, albeit in his cave, not in the home wood. It had taken him a goodly amount of time to walk from Hardcross Manor to his cave by the river. He hadn’t ridden Cannon, he could be seen, his presence wondered at. No, he wanted no one to know where he’d gone. He’d had to see if his boyhood cave would be an acceptable hideout for smuggled-in goods. It was perfect. He had sat on the sandy floor, leaned back against a wall, and planned out his next and last smuggling run. Time to end it all.

  It was a pity.

  Devlin said, “I could not very well ride with him walking beside me, now, could I? So demeaning to Lord Julian.”

  Julian strode up to Sophie, grabbed her arms, and shook her hard. “You stole my horse, damn you, after Bicker told you not to. You could have been thrown; you could have your damned neck broken.”

  “I knew I could ride him, Julian, really, there was no danger. Stop looking at me like you want to drown me. And his whinny, it smote me. I felt sorry for him. He nearly begged me to give him some proper exercise. Really, we dealt very well together.”

  “You twit, Cannon is my horse, not yours. What’s more, he’s mean as a drunken cutpurse. You deserve to be pulverized for this, Sophie.”

  She saw the pulse pounding in his throat. Oh, dear, he was very angry with her indeed. She supposed she deserved it, but still, she was a fine horsewoman. He should have trusted her; he should have—oh, dear, she had been a twit. She realized he was more scared for her than angry, scared she could have been seriously hurt. She lightly laid her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, Julian, truly, it—it wasn’t well done of me. I won’t do it again. Will you forgive me? Will you not pulverize me?”

  He eyed her, said slowly, “You think I’m being unreasonable? I’m not, it’s just that—very well. You’re forgiven.”

  He lightly touched his fingertips to her cheek. She was all right, thank the good Lord. He said, “As for that other one, Devlin, standing there looking all angelic, I fancy she wants to stake you out beneath a bright sun, to see what will happen.”

  Sophie rounded on him. “However would you hear such a thing, sir? It is absurd.”

  “I have a working brain, Sophie. Also, your plan at the Marksbury garden party set up quite a fine spate of gossip, which reached my ears very quickly.”

  “How odd,” Devlin said, frowning, “I didn’t hear a thing.”

  “I suppose that means more people than Sophie and I wish to see what would happen if your bare chest was exposed to the sun,” Roxanne said.

  Devlin said, “I should not like that at all. Sun is the enemy.”

  Roxanne said, “Nonsense. The warmth of the sun is delicious. Oh, dear, are you certain you must hide away from that glorious sun, Devlin? Let’s just see about that,” and she grabbed the black hat off Devlin’s head and raced back toward the home wood, her laughter wafting behind her.

  Devlin sighed. “What do you think, Julian? Should I teach her some manners?”

  “She will bring you low, Devlin, pay heed,” Sophie said.

  Devlin ran toward the home wood.

  “He is fleet of foot, isn’t he? Now,” Julian said, “we’re alone. Do you know, I thought Bicker would burst into tears when he saw me, swore to me he’d tried to talk you out of it, but she’s ‘a headstrong little bickel, more stubborn than me long-sainted ma,’ I believe he said.”

  “So, this means you still haven’t forgiven me. But it’s true, Julian, Cannon was gentle as a lamb. He quite likes me.”

  Julian handed her a carrot from his pocket. “Feed him, see if he bites off your fingers.”

  Without hesitation, Sophie held out the carrot to Cannon, who licked it off her palm. She rubbed her hand on her skirt. “Ah, Julian, perhaps you could ride along beside me and give me pointers if Cannon goes into a snit?”

  He placed both his hands around her throat. “No, I will not give you pointers. You will leave Cannon to me.”

  “But—”

  “You may not even lead Cannon about on a rope. I have decided you are brazen, ma’am, a baggage, and you want taming.”

  She closed her hands over his. “Really? I’m all that? What is a baggage, I’ve always wondered.”

  “But you understand brazen, do you not? And taming?”

  “Brazen is nothing, but taming? Goodness, no, what does that mean? Does it involve whips?”

  “Don’t mock me, Sophie. I might stake you out beside Roxanne, because I imagine that is what Devlin is doing to your elderly aunt at this very moment.”

  “No, impossible. Roxanne is wily, not to mention she is very strong. Devlin doesn’t have a chance of besting her.”

  A black satyr brow shot up. “A wager? Say, five pounds?”

  “Done,” she said, and shook his hand. They left the horses eating lake grass and walked back to the home wood.

  They heard shouts, laughter, then dead silence.

  They stepped into a small clearing to see Roxanne on her back on the ground, Devlin’s black coat beneath her, Devlin holding her wrists over her head.

  Roxanne was laughing even as she jerked and pulled. “Let me go this instant, Devlin, or I swear I will annihilate you. I will leave you tied down in the sunlight for a fortnight.”

  “That would give me an inflammation of the lung, given it will rain thirteen of the fourteen days.”

  “Very well, I will throw you into a moat if I find a castle. Is there one hereabout? Does Ravenscar have a moat?”

  “No,” Devlin said, released her wrists, and rose. He looked down at her, his arms crossed over his chest. He began to laugh. “I bested you very quickly, Roxanne. You tried your poor womanly best, but you didn’t stand a chance, not against such a man as I. Do you admit I am your superior?”

  “My superior? What does that mean? You’re fast?”

  “Fast and strong, admit it; I had you on your back in an instant.”

  “I don’t believe this,” Sophie said, and raced to Roxanne, who was now sitting up.

  “You’re sitting on the ground. How can that be? Goodness, Devlin’s coat is even under you. However did that happen? Roxanne, how did you allow this? I made a wager with Julian! You have lost me five pounds.”

  Sophie gave Roxanne her hand and pulled her to her feet. “Five pounds, Roxanne. Perhaps I should have left you on the ground.”

  “I think it’s time for a bit of retribution,” Roxanne said, and jumped on Devlin. The momentum drove him to his knees, then, because he wasn’t stupid, he twisted and fell onto his back, dragging Roxanne down to sprawl on top of him.

  There was a moment of silence, then, “Help me, Julian. She will surely kill me, mayhap bite my neck, for she is endlessly curious. Look, she is eyeing my neck, licking her lips.”

  Julian, laughing, lifted Roxanne off Devlin, set her beside Sophie, and stepped back. He held up his hands. “Don’t either of you attack me, for I am innocent of any wrongdoing. Devlin, get up, you look ridiculous lying there, squinting at the sunlight pouring through the tree branches.”

  Devlin jumped to his feet, found his hat on the ground, placed it reverently back on his head, and breathed a sigh of relief. “You’re right. I felt such heat against my skin, building, building. It quite scared me to my toes.”

  Julian held out his hand to Sophie. “Five pounds, if you please.”

  Sophie looked at Roxanne, who was brushing leaves off her riding skirt. “How could you let him take you down? I told Julian you were strong—”

  “You were proved wrong.” Julian held out his hand, then eyed her. “Are you telling me that you are suffering penury or you don’t carry money on your person?”

  “Neither. Both.”

  “A gentleman always pays on a debt of honor, my child.”

  “I will pay you, for I have honor, probably more than I deserve.”

  Roxanne was pulling twigs fro
m her unraveling braid, spilling bright red hair down her back and over her shoulders. She said, “Devlin was listening for my footsteps. When I stopped and turned to see where he was, he ducked behind a lovely maple. Mayhap I walked back a bit, to make sure he wasn’t close, and he grabbed me from behind, threw me over his shoulder, and dumped me on the ground. In short, he ambushed me.”

  “You were too curious this time, Roxanne,” Devlin said, considering. “At least you weren’t out for blood—more’s the pity.”

  “But his coat was lying beneath you,” Sophie said. “Placing it just so—that takes time.”

  “He had his coat in his hands when he grabbed me. He is smart,” Roxanne added, and pulled another twig from her hair.

  Devlin lightly squeezed her arm. “Ah, not much muscle at all, Roxanne, it is disappointing. You weren’t much of a challenge at all.”

  Julian turned to see Sophie racing back through the home wood. She wouldn’t dare. He waited until he heard Cannon whinny.

  Devlin grinned. “You toy with her, Julian. I quite like that.”

  Julian waited another moment, then he whistled.

  When Cannon came trotting up to him a few minutes later, a red-faced Sophie racing behind him, waving a carrot, he said, “I believe it a fine idea if you and Roxanne were to have a nice walk back to the manor. I forgive you for taking him, but I believe a bit of punishment might make a powerful point.”

  “You are not a gentleman, sir.”

  He swung onto Cannon’s back, then gave Devlin a hand to bring him up behind him. Cannon snorted. “You are no lightweight, Devlin,” Julian said over his shoulder. “No matter, Cannon won’t have time to work himself up. We’ll fetch Roxanne’s horse for you.”

  Sophie and Roxanne stood in the clearing until the gentlemen came riding back through. Julian gave them a silent salute. Devlin merely shook his finger at Roxanne. He called over his shoulder, “Your hair is quite beautiful all long and tangled down your back. All that sinful red.”

  Roxanne lifted the pile of hair that hung down her back. She twisted it up, stuck it beneath her riding hat. She brushed her skirts again, straightened her jacket. “Well, Sophie, would you like to walk to that gazebo on the other side of the lake?”

  26

  Sophie didn’t go back inside the manor with Roxanne because she saw Victoria Langworth slip behind a maple tree. Why was she hiding? Surely she could not have taken Sophie into dislike; she didn’t even know her.

  Sophie waited a moment, then walked resolutely to the maple tree. She called out, “Hello, Miss Langworth. It is a glorious day. Won’t you come out and speak to me?”

  She waited. Finally, Victoria emerged from behind the tree. She didn’t move, simply stood there, watching Sophie, rather like a deer watching a hunter, wanting to spring away but frozen to the spot.

  She looked very young to Sophie, in her schoolroom muslin gown, but Sophie knew Victoria to be close to her own age. Why had she not married? Why did she still dress like a schoolgirl?

  Sophie said, “I rode Julian’s horse, Cannon. Julian would have choked me if he could have gotten away with it. Actually, it was close. He was very angry with me. What do you think?”

  Victoria didn’t fidget, didn’t move. Finally, she said, “I would choke you, too, if you stole my horse. Cannon frightens me. You really rode him? You weren’t afraid?”

  Sophie, all good humor, walked over to where Victoria stood, swinging her bonnet by its long violet ribbons. “No, I wasn’t afraid, probably because Cannon decided to humor me. He was playful, unlike his master when he found me. Do you know Cannon comes to Julian when he whistles?”

  Victoria nodded. “Yes. Julian tried to teach me to whistle once, but I could not manage it.”

  “I could teach you.”

  “No, no, I am too old for that now. Father keeps reminding me that I am a grown lady and I must be mature and thoughtful. Excuse me, Miss Wilkie—”

  “Please call me Sophie.”

  “I overheard Julian’s mama speaking to my father. She said Julian was going to marry you, since your mother was her very best friend.”

  Sophie merely smiled.

  “Julian was married to my sister, you know,” said Victoria. “She loved him very much, at least I thought she did, but then she had private relations—that’s what I heard the servants whispering to each other—with a man I never saw. I don’t know if any of the servants saw him either. And then Lily was dead. It was all very sad.”

  Lily had been married to Julian only six months and she’d taken a lover? Sophie said carefully, “I think her name very pretty—Lily. I’m very sorry she died.”

  “She didn’t die of a putrid throat, like my own dear mother, she got shot in the heart. If Lily were still alive, she would be thirty next Monday. Isn’t that strange?”

  “It is very strange—may I call you Victoria?”

  “No one calls me that. I’m Vicky. Do you believe Julian is sorry as well?”

  “How could he not be? She was his wife.”

  “There was something wrong between them if Lily had private relations with another man, don’t you think? But I don’t think Julian shot her in the heart—I saw how shocked he was when he was trying to get her to wake up. But she couldn’t, you see, she was dead.”

  Vicky continued after a moment: “Such a beautiful wedding it was, at Saint Thomas’s church in Ravenscar Village. They went to Italy on their wedding trip. How I wished to go with them, but Julian told me it wasn’t what was done, and he patted my cheek. Lily laughed at me. I remember she twirled around and around in her lovely traveling gown, and I heard her whisper, ‘I’m free, I’m free.’

  “When they returned, Julian took her to Ravenscar, and I became the mistress of Hardcross Manor. I do a good job. Did you like the beef we had for dinner last evening? It was done precisely to my recipe. It was my mother’s recipe, actually. I miss her all the time, more than I miss Lily. My father never misses her, you know. I think he’s glad she died. The day of her funeral, he began humming. He hums all the time now.”

  Sophie wasn’t pressing Vicky for information, Vicky was spitting it right out. Sophie heard herself ask, “You never saw another man, so perhaps Lily didn’t have a lover; perhaps that was simply gossip.”

  “Then why would she spend so much time here when she was married to Julian? I mean, she was supposed to live at Ravenscar, but she spent a great deal of time with us. She said she didn’t want to take my place, that she was responsible for Ravenscar, and that was quite enough. But I ask you, Sophie, if she was always here, how could she manage Ravenscar?

  “I don’t think she liked Julian’s mama very much. She said she was a bitch. Her grace has always been kind to me, but she wasn’t my mama-in-law, so maybe that makes things different.”

  Sophie said, “Her grace is really very nice. She is very kind to both Roxanne and me as well. I’m sure she was very pleased Lily was her daughter-in-law.”

  “Papa was telling me perhaps we should have a party, since you don’t ignore a duke’s heir, and that’s what Devlin is. I’ve known Devlin since Julian brought him to visit from Oxford. Julian had never met Devlin before he went to Oxford. Isn’t that odd? Well, that is what I heard Lily tell our father. She said his father’s family wished Julian didn’t exist.”

  “You were eavesdropping?”

  “Yes, I learn everything by listening at doors or standing by the wainscoting or hiding behind draperies. I am very good at it, have been for years now.”

  “The wainscoting? But how does that make you disappear?”

  “Oh, I simply stand very still and no one sees me, not really. I must leave you, Miss Wilkie—Sophie. I must meet with Cook to ensure she has the correct recipe for the dinner mutton. I like to decorate it with mint, you know, that’s what my mama did. I mustn’t forget the Yorkshire tea cakes. My father said he quite liked Miss Radcliffe’s father—Baron Roche, that is—said tea cakes were his favorite, and so perhaps she will enjoy them a
s well. I don’t particularly care for them, but that doesn’t matter, now, does it? Listen, I can hear my papa humming.”

  Vicky left Sophie standing by the maple tree. Sophie didn’t hear the baron humming, but then again, she didn’t hear anything above the loud pounding of her heart.

  What had Lily meant by saying, “I’m free, I’m free”?

  27

  Sophie ran into the manor, nearly knocking Julian over. He grabbed her arms to steady both of them.

  “Sophie? What’s wrong?”

  “Julian, I must speak to you immediately.”

  He studied her face, then heard a soft rustling sound and looked up to see Vicky standing on the bottom stair step, smiling, looking from him to Sophie and back again. What had Vicky told her? Had it made sense? Frightened her? With Vicky, you never knew what would come out of her mouth next.

  Fey, Richard called his sister, and then he would snort and add under his breath that she might as well be on the moon for all the good she was here on earth—the elfin child who would probably be happier dancing around an All Hallows’ Eve bonfire than partaking of tea in a drawing room, sharing her life with family and friends.

  What had she said to Sophie?

  Julian drew in a deep breath. Vicky was still watching him, that smile still on her mouth. It wouldn’t surprise him if two minutes from now, she turned into the mistress of Hardcross and asked them in for luncheon. It gave him a headache, probably gave a headache to her brother and father as well. He remembered Lily had said Vicky was an original. Then she’d added that Vicky always knew how best to get what she wanted, and how best to protect herself. Protect herself from what, he’d always wondered, but Lily had only shrugged, said nothing more.

  “Hello, Julian,” Vicky called out. It wasn’t her young-mistress-of-the-manor voice, it was her fey voice. “Isn’t it a lovely day? I always adore a lovely day. I think Sophie does, too. It was lovely that day you found Lily lying dead in the garden, wasn’t it?”

  Julian said to Sophie, who was staring gape-mouthed at Vicky, “Come with me.” He turned on his heel and walked toward the back of the manor. He opened a narrow door and walked into the small airless estate room, used only by the baron’s steward, now an old man who slept most of the time he was here, something no one appeared to mind in the least. Julian walked to another narrow door, opened it. Sophie walked past him into a small perfect gem of a garden.