by Phoebe Conn
When he walked into Eden’s bedroom, Raven was disappointed to find her already asleep. Her blue gown had been replaced in the wardrobe; indeed, there was nothing out of place, no feminine clutter in sight. If she had carelessly tossed her clothes about, then one of the maids had seen that the fine garments did not remain on the floor.
Unlike the previous night, Eden was hugging a pillow tightly and her brow was puckered in a troubled frown. Clearly her dreams were not sweet tonight.
“Guilty conscience, my pet?” Raven called softly, but Eden did not stir. He removed his clothing, laid it over the bench at the dressing table, and again joined her in bed. He had said they would share his bed each night, but he was in no mood to argue over which room they slept in as long as they were together.
He drew her into his arms and nuzzled her sun-kissed curls, grateful she did not braid her hair at night as so many women did. She felt delightfully warm and relaxed, and as he pulled her close, her body conformed to the contours of his as easily as spoons fit together in a drawer.
“Eden?” he whispered, wondering if he would again have to kiss her awake. She snuggled against him, but the deep, even rhythm of her breathing did not change. Raven rose up slightly and found her expression had become the sweet smile he had often seen her wear with Alex.
Certain Alex would not approve of his method for convincing Eden they should marry, Raven lay back down. In all his life he had never trusted anyone as he had Alex. He had never known him to make even the smallest error in judgment. Had marrying Eden been his single mistake? A deadly mistake he had suggested Raven repeat?
It was a sobering thought but it did not prevent Raven from hugging Eden even closer. He knew he could again turn her anger to passion, and the pleasure they would find together would be just as deep, but now he wanted it on his own terms. She was his now, and he meant for her to realize it, to eagerly await him in his bed rather than to hide in her own.
Was she again teasing him? Had she wanted him to kick in her door and drag her off by her hair? That was just ridiculous enough an idea to appeal to her, but not to him. He liked being able to hold her close, to sleep with her, and for that night at least, it would be enough. If she wanted to tease him, she would soon learn he would repay her in kind. Thinking he had won this latest battle between them, Raven closed his eyes and went to sleep confident he was clever enough to get the better of her every time she defied him.
It was still long before dawn when Eden awoke. Frightened at first, she soon realized it was Raven who held her wrapped in a confining embrace, but she dared not risk waking him by struggling to break free. Instead she lay still. When the initial fear the discovery of his presence had caused passed, she began to relax and then did not find lying in his arms unpleasant.
His breath was very gentle as it caressed her cheek, warm and comforting. She had been terrified she would awake some morning to find Alex had died during the night, but she had no such fears with Raven. He radiated strength from every pore. The man would probably live to be one hundred. The question was, did she wish to spend those years with him?
A firm no came swiftly to her lips, but their relationship was far too complicated for a simple yes or no to change things between them. Since she was Alex’s widow, their lives would be linked forever. Unless, of course, she married someone else and never saw him again. She had spent most of the day contemplating Alex’s thinly veiled hint that she and Raven marry. That Raven was Alex’s choice was not the only point in his favor, however, but the ease with which the virile young man could make her forget who he was was too painful a fact to face, even in the dark of night.
When Eden awoke for the second time that morning, she was alone. At first she thought the memory of Raven’s presence might have been only a vivid dream, but the spicy scent that clung to her pillows dashed that hope. She and Alex had never shared her bed. In fact, that was the first night she had ever spent in it, but the fragrance that teased her senses was definitely Alex’s.
“Raven’s,” she reminded herself aloud, determined not to confuse the two men ever again. She sat up quickly when she noticed the door between their rooms was standing wide open. She knew she had locked it, but Raven had obviously not respected her privacy enough to leave it that way.
Slipping out of bed, Eden crossed to the doorway, and peering inside the next room, she found Raven standing in front of the washstand shaving. Bare to the waist, he looked not only disgustingly fit, but handsome as well. His broad shoulders and back were deeply tanned and his muscular torso tapered to a slim waist. As usual, he was clad in black pants. Alex had worn a variety of grays, browns, and blues, but not Raven. His wardrobe appeared to be just as extensive, but the majority of his garments were as dark as midnight.
“I think you must wear black more often than Mr. Lincoln,” she called to him.
Raven was not startled by the sound of her voice for he had seen her in his mirror and had been waiting for her to speak. He took the time to wipe off the last traces of shaving soap before turning to face her. Her lace-trimmed nightgown covered her lovely figure with modest folds, but the casual disarray of her long curls gave clear evidence of the wildness of her spirit. It was the allure of the untamed side of her nature that drew him to her now.
“Mr. Lincoln has good reason to wear black, and so do I.”
“I think we have already had this argument,” Eden replied with forced calm, not wanting to again have to justify her choice of clothing. She was now sorry she had not waited until he had donned a shirt before she had spoken.
Raven walked toward her with a slow, measured stride. “Then let’s not have it again. What sort of headstone did you order for Alex?”
Eden’s gaze swept over his bare chest before coming to rest on his dark eyes. She had been about to demand he stay out of her bed, but she suddenly suspected he would deny he had ever been there. Because Alex was a far safer subject, she answered his question. “I waited to discuss it with you.”
Raven was surprised, but pleased by that. “Do you want to come into Exeter with me? I’m sure the stonemason can create any design we suggest, but I want it to be as beautifully crafted as Eleanora’s angel.”
“Do you know the man?”
“No,” Raven admitted, “but I’ll make certain he does his finest work for Alex.”
“I know that you will. I’d rather stay here, though. I trust you to choose something handsome for Alex.” She hesitated a moment, then rushed ahead. “Even though he’s buried beside Eleanora, would you think it terribly selfish of me to request the phrase ‘Beloved Husband of Eden’?”
Of all the possible inscriptions, Raven could not think of a less likely one, but recalling Alex’s adoring praise for his honey-eyed bride, he could not refuse. “You were his wife, Eden. If that’s what you want, then I’m sure it can be done.”
“Thank you.” Wanting only to get away from him before their conversation deteriorated into another bitter argument, Eden wished him a good day, then closed her door. Raven had difficulty stifling a deep laugh when he knew Eden had to know he had spent the night in her bed. He found it highly amusing she had not mentioned it. Whistling softly to himself, he decided his strategy was working. In as good a mood as could be expected, he completed dressing and left for Exeter.
At first Eden had been relieved Raven would again be away for most of the day, but she soon grew restless on her own. It was a short step from that point to despair. She and Alex had never run out of things to do. Since his death, she had had more than enough to keep her busy, although she would have preferred never to have had to arrange for his funeral. Now she found herself wandering aimlessly through the halls of Briarcliff with nothing to occupy her mind but thoughts of the husband she had lost.
Raven had also thought he would appreciate the time alone, but he had not even reached Exeter before he wished he had insisted that Eden accompany him. After all, she was Alex’s widow. While it had been thoughtful of her to wait for him
to select a headstone, it now struck him as a task they should have shared. Bored and restless on his own, he vowed not to make the mistake of leaving her behind ever again.
By the time he had returned to Briarcliff, Raven was so anxious to see Eden he raced up the stairs and did not slow his pace until he had charged through his room and into hers. Finding it empty, he cursed like the sailor he was, and tore back down the stairs. When he could not find her in any of the rooms where she might be expected to be, he sought Abbot’s assistance.
“I believe Lady Clairbourne is in the garden, my lord. She usually spends the afternoons there.”
Raven waved his thanks to the butler as he sped out the double doors. The terrace overlooked the garden, but a hurried glance revealed Eden was not seated on any of the shaded benches. Frustrated by his lack of success, Raven was about to return to the house to tell Abbot to send the staff out to look for Eden when he sighted a patch of apricot on the distant cliff.
Recognizing the pale color as the shade of one of Eden’s favorite gowns, he could think of only one reason for her to have strayed so far. Terrified she was about to throw herself to the rocks below, he prayed he could reach her in time to prevent such a horrible tragedy. Skirting the winding paths of the garden, he vaulted the low hedges and flowering shrubs in a mad dash to save her life. He had never run so hard, but the lawn that extended between the end of the garden and the cliff’s edge seemed a mile wide even though he nearly flew across it.
The sound of the surf kept Eden from hearing Raven’s wild approach until he was within a few yards of her. She turned then, and delighted to see him after a long and trying day, she welcomed him with a bright smile before pausing to wonder why he was in such a great hurry.
Raven had expected hysterical tears and defiant screams, but when Eden smiled as she turned to face him, he knew immediately suicide had not been on her mind. Feeling like a complete ass, he slid to a bone-jarring halt, then had to lean forward and rest his hands on his knees while he struggled to catch his breath.
Thinking he must have some sort of terrible news, Eden ran to Raven’s side. “What’s wrong?” She was tempted to reach out and touch his curls, but stopped herself.
“Nothing,” he managed to assure her between deep gasps. Horribly embarrassed, he straightened up as quickly as he could, but his breathing was still labored.
“Well, something dreadful must have happened or you wouldn’t have run out here like that,” Eden prompted as she reached out to take his arm. “It isn’t the War, is it? Has there been news of the War?”
Raven held up his hand in a plea for patience, and in another moment he was able to speak. “I didn’t hear any news from America. It was just that I saw you out here on the cliff, and I was afraid that you were about to do something desperate.”
Eden didn’t understand. “What are you talking about? What could I possibly do out here?”
That she didn’t see the obvious appalled him. “I thought you were about to leap off.”
Raven still looked so terribly upset that Eden didn’t doubt his words. She thought him absolutely daft for thinking such a thing, however. “Oh Raven, where did you ever get such an absurd idea?” She couldn’t help but giggle then, and she was grateful she had him to hold on to when she could not control the riotous peals of laughter that bubbled up from deep inside her.
That he had exhausted himself racing to rescue her when she had not been in any danger was bad enough, but that she would ridicule him for it was more than Raven could bear. Infuriated with her, he grabbed ahold of her upper arms and lifted her clear off her feet.
“Don’t you ever laugh at me again!” he shouted in her face. “Don’t ever make that mistake again!”
Dangling in midair, Eden was aghast to find he did not think the situation as humorous as she did. His dark eyes were aglow with the fury of his rage and she clung to his lapels, terrified that he might be angry enough to fling her off the cliff himself.
“I wasn’t laughing at you,” she argued in a frantic whisper.
Raven watched her eyes fill with tears, and certain she was no longer in any mood for laughter, he placed her on her feet. “Women have killed themselves over a lost love. You must know that’s happened.”
When he released her, Eden backed away. “Is that what you feared, or what you were hoping for, Raven? You’re not the only one who despises pretense. Just forget that Alex hoped we might marry. There’s no way I’ll ever marry you when it’s plain you’d rather see me dead!”
Raven clenched his fists tightly at his sides but he didn’t follow Eden when she ran away from him. She might have called him a bastard and laughed in his face but he certainly did not wish her dead. No, he wanted her very much alive, and if she had not fled from him when she had, he knew in another instant he would have pulled her down into the grass and taken her right there.
He waited until she had reached the terrace before turning away and walking to the edge of the cliff. He waved to the men on the deck of the Jamaican Wind and decided since he had come that far he might as well go out to the ship. A few hours spent with Randy would undoubtedly put him in a better mood, and it would also give Eden the time to realize how ridiculous her accusation that he wished her dead truly was.
Chapter Eight
August 1863
Eden did not dress for dinner. She remained in her room stubbornly determined to again make Raven dine alone but that plan was foiled when he did not return to Briarcliff. His failure to do so confused her as he had not impressed her as the type of man to turn tail and run.
Then a truly horrifying thought occurred to her. What if he had sailed for London on the He had certainly been angry enough to abandon her. Had he actually done it?Jamaican Wind?
Not willing simply to fret over such a dire possibility, Eden rang for a maid. By the time the girl reached her room, she had a note written for Abbot asking him to ascertain immediately whether or not Raven’s ship was still lying at anchor in Lyme Bay. She waited at her window, thinking whomever Abbot sent would be carrying a lantern, but a knock at her door soon drew her away from her vigil.
Abbot had come in response to her note, and the white-haired butler appeared to be baffled by her request. “Lady Clairbourne, if the ship is in the harbor, is there a message of some kind that you wish sent out to it?”
Other than to tell Raven to go straight to hell, Eden could not think of anything. “Why no,” she attempted to answer calmly, “I just wondered if the ship had sailed on the evening tide.”
“Lord Clairbourne would not leave without informing you of his intentions,” Abbot assured her.
Eden took the precaution of glancing up and down the hall, and seeing no other servants about, she hurriedly drew Abbot into her room and closed the door. “I know Alex trusted you, and I trust you as well. Raven and I are not well acquainted, and constantly misunderstand each other. How would you describe his character? I know Alex thought very highly of him, but I find it extremely difficult to hold such a generous opinion.”
To ask a butler for a personal comment on his employer was irregular, to say the least, but in the past month Abbot had found Eden’s unassuming charm so delightful he was not offended by her request and responded in a fatherly tone. “I have known Raven for nearly twenty years, my lady, and he has never given anyone reason to criticize his behavior. He is a fine man, and very young for the heavy load of responsibilities he bears. These are difficult times for all of us who loved Alex. If a problem exists between you two, it is doubly unfortunate coming now when each of you is suffering so badly from grief.”
Ashamed to think what he said about Raven might well be true, Eden was so embarrassed she had to turn away for a moment. It was clear to her then that she had had no real cause to accuse Raven of wishing her dead. He had simply frightened her half out of her wits, that was all, and perhaps it had been rude of her to laugh at him for thinking her about to attempt suicide. They had again made a complete mess of thing
s, but she did not think she was the only one to blame. Not wanting to keep Abbot from his duties while she pondered her problems, Eden moved to the door and opened it for him.
“Thank you for being as good a friend to me as you were to Alex.”
“What about the ship?”
“It must be there. Please don’t send anyone out to look.”
Eden still wore a troubled frown, and Abbot hated to leave without having lifted her spirits. “Would you like the cook to send up some supper on a tray? I believe there’s roast pheasant tonight.”
Eden’s mouth began to water at the thought of the succulent bird. “Would you please? I’d rather not go down to the dining room, but I know I’ll soon regret not eating if I don’t have something. Pheasant sounds wonderful.”
Hoping he had been some small help to her, Abbot hesitated at the door. Eden was lovely, but very young to face the future alone. Realizing it was Raven’s place to offer counsel to her rather than his, he wished her a good evening, but he gave sending his own note out to the Jamaican Wind careful consideration before deciding to leave well enough alone.
Eden awakened frequently during the night, and each time she got up and looked in the adjoining room to see if Raven was in his bed. She would not have joined him, but it would have put her mind at ease to find him there. Morning arrived before he did, and she did not feel as though she had slept more than a few minutes. When she sat down at her dressing table to brush her hair, the dark circles beneath her eyes provided clear evidence that she had not.
Condolence letters had not yet begun to arrive from London, but as she ate a few bites of breakfast, Eden began to look forward to receiving some as writing replies would give her something useful to do although it would not be at all pleasant. With no mail to answer as yet, she went into the library in search of something to read. She found several novels with appealing titles, but when she sat down with one, she could not concentrate for more than a paragraph or two before her mind began to wander and she left the book lying open on her lap.
