Sensing Danger (A Sinclair and Raven Novel Book 1)

by Wendy Vella

  “Which house is it, Eden?”

  “The big one there,” Eden pointed to a large gray building.

  “It's even bigger than our uncle's,” Dorrie whispered in awe.

  A tall black fence ran along the front of the property. The sisters walked through the gates and looked up at the somber stone facade.

  “Come along,” Eden said, urging the small party toward the front doors. Essie knocked and they stepped back to wait.

  “We are the Sinclair sisters, come to visit with Lady Samantha,” Dorrie said when the door opened.

  The butler did not appear surprised at being addressed by a young girl, and stepped to one side to allow them to enter.

  Eden glimpsed a large staircase, dark walls and tiled floors, and then they entered a small parlor.

  “If you will please wait in here, I will see if Lady Samantha is receiving this morning.”

  “She is receiving, because we sent her a note and she replied,” Somer said.

  “Well then, if you will just wait here, I shall tell her you have called.”

  Dreary and uninviting were the best words to describe the room. Dark brown brocade hung at the windows and the walls were paneled halfway with dark wood and the rest papered in deep burgundy. The furnishings were, if she was being flattering, ugly, and no one made a move to sit, instead walking toward the window where the light provided some relief in the drab room.

  “It is not a very welcoming room.”

  “Sssh, Somer, it would not do for someone to hear you,” Essie whispered.

  “But don't you think Somer's right though, Essie?” Dorrie added. “The room is unwelcoming. Not even a small vase sits upon a table; a few flowers would surely help with the gloom.”

  The twins’ thoughts mirrored Eden's but she did not comment further. Surely living in such a depressing house cannot be healthy for the spirits? Eden wondered how James had coped living in such a place as a child.

  “Indeed you are both correct, it is a very unpleasant room, yet it is not for us to comment on how others live. Now let us remove our things so we are ready to visit with Samantha,” Eden said.

  When the butler opened the door the Sinclair sisters were more than happy to follow him. They walked up the wide curved staircase. Hunting scenes hung from the walls, mingled with ancestors whose eyes glared down upon them. Eden squeezed the little hand that slipped into hers, offering reassurance. The butler led them down hallways and up more stairs until the sisters had completely lost their bearings. Finally they stopped before a door. Opening it, he ushered them inside and into an explosion of light and color.

  “Oh my,” the twins whispered.

  Eden and her sisters stood just inside the door and stared. Light from the large windows touched the buttercup-colored walls, and the room appeared to glow. Chairs and sofas covered in bright colors with large squishy pillows dotted the room, and silks and pictures hung from the walls. Shelves spilled with books and toys, and a huge vase filled with bright blooms sat on a cabinet.

  “Dorrie, Somer!”

  This squeal came from the floor before the fire. Eden watched as Samantha climbed to her feet and hurried toward them. She could see dark circles beneath the girl's eyes and her skin was pale, however the wide smile on her lips was enough to dispel her fear that Samantha was not recovering. Dressed in pale blue, her hair tied in a large, floppy matching satin bow, she looked as every young girl should.

  “Hello, Eden, do you like my room?”

  “Indeed I do, Samantha, and who could not, it is surely the most beautiful room I have ever been in.”

  Samantha seemed delighted with the compliment and was more than happy to accept Eden and Essie's hugs and kisses.

  “Your dress too is lovely, Samantha.”

  “It is one of the dresses you chose, and James and I decorated the room.”

  Eden swallowed the lump in her throat at the prospect of James and Samantha together decorating the room. It seemed the bond between the siblings had indeed strengthened.

  Samantha loved her flowers, and soon the little girls were sitting before a large dollhouse, playing as if they had been friends for many years.

  Essie and Eden sat before the windows in two comfortable chairs, more than happy to let the girls play until they tired.

  “Did you enjoy last night, Eden?”

  “Of course.”

  “Liar.”

  Eden puffed out a breath. “I am not lying to you. I enjoyed parts of last night, it is just....” Eden could not find the words to express what she felt.

  “The men seem shallow when compared with the men of our family and the women are little better,” Essie finished in a dry voice. “Lord Laurent is excluded from that statement, of course.”

  Her sister was falling in love, she realized.

  “Is he to stay here in England, Essie?”

  “Yes, he has nothing to go back to, and is looking to purchase a house here in England.”

  “How sad that he has no family.”

  “I have not questioned him on the subject as it is obviously a painful one for him,” Essie said.

  Eden grabbed her sister’s hands. “I pray it works out for you, Essie.”

  “It will,” she smiled. “Will you talk about your feelings for the Duke with me now? Last night you dismissed the subject when I broached it.”

  “There is nothing to discuss, Essie. We are not suited, and I would never be the wife he wished for.”

  “Believe that if you wish, and I shall say no more.”

  “There is no more to say,” Eden said in a firm voice. When had she betrayed her interest in the Duke?

  “I found Miss Bartrum’s gown far too excessive for one so young, and those plumes nearly took poor Mr. Hadleigh's eyes out when they danced.”

  Eden laughed as her sister intended, glad to change the subject. Taking out one of her earplugs, she rubbed her ear. They sometimes began to hurt after a while if she pushed them in too far. Listening to the hum of voices in various areas of the house, she sorted through each. The rattle of plates, the bang of pots was obviously from the kitchens. She heard James’s voice and then another.

  “Cam is here.”

  “Are you sure?” Essie questioned, looking around as if he stood behind them.

  “Yes,” Eden said, climbing to her feet. “Wait here.” She waved her sister back. “We shall finally see what he and the Duke are up to.”

  “Do not antagonize him.”

  She lifted a hand at her sister's words and left the room. Following Cam's voice, Eden soon stood before another door. Pushing her earplug back in, she tapped before entering.

  Unlike the rest of the house, this was a room worthy of spending time. The ceiling was high, with the farthest wall holding floor-to-ceiling windows that, like Samantha's room, made it seem as if she were stepping into the sunlight. Books lined two walls, high enough that a ladder would be needed to reach the top ones. The furnishings were of rich deep reds and blues with woven patterned rugs scattering the polished wooden floors. It was alive with a feast of color and light, and Eden knew that this was the room James spent all his time in.

  “This one is extraordinary, and seems to be a map of an island somewhere in the Caribbean, and this one—”

  Both heads swiveled as Eden shut the door.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “I believe that was going to be my question, brother dear.” Eden looked from Cam to the Duke and back again. They were bent over a large desk upon which was spread a big piece of parchment. Both were in shirtsleeves and waistcoats. James smiled, Cam scowled.

  “I asked first.”

  “Oh please, like a Sinclair has ever cared who asks first. It's who gets the answer first that matters,” Eden scoffed. “Besides, we are intrigued as to what it is you do here with the Duke for hours.”

  James folded his arms and leaned back against the desk. He loved watching Eden when she was sparring with her siblings; it was a gam
e all parties seemed to relish, no matter the outcome or the original topic, as usually they covered many over the course of the debate.

  She looked like a sweet piece of confectionary today waiting to be devoured, dressed in pale lemon muslin with blond lace trim. Her hair was simply styled and her beautiful face alive. He wanted to lay her upon his desk and ravish her.

  “I am to be cursed with you even here,” Cam growled. “Christ, am I allowed no peace!”

  “Do not curse in your sister's presence, Cam.” James felt he needed to say something.

  “Peace!” Eden screeched, ignoring him and forcing both men to wince. “Peace is it, you insufferable ingrate. You, who do not live with the children, crave peace. Oh and I was to know you were here, was I? We came to visit with Samantha, not follow you, you self-important puffed-up—”

  “Now, children,” James chided softly, knowing it would annoy the hell out of them. Smiling, he wondered when he had begun to understand the rules to their games.

  “Oh Lord, Eden. I'm so sorry, I was supposed to tell you she had been sick,” Cam said, anger fleeing as quickly as it had come.

  “It is all right, brother, the Duke told us last night and Dorrie and Somer were insistent upon seeing Samantha. Had they found out any earlier they would more than likely have caught whatever was ailing her.”

  From rage to empathy in seconds, James thought, shaking his head. It was exhausting just watching them. He could only imagine how tiring it would be to live with the Sinclairs.

  Cam was now hugging his sister tight and kissing her cheek. They were a very demonstrative lot, always touching and kissing each other. James's skin tingled just at the thought of all that close contact with another person. Close contact with Eden however, now that was a different matter entirely.

  “Good morning, Eden.”

  “Oh, forgive me, James,” Eden said, dropping into a curtsey. “Good morning to you.”

  “Think nothing of it. I can see how important it is to be on your guard when faced with a Sinclair sibling.”

  “What happened to your face?”

  James braced himself as she moved closer, one hand lifted to touch his jaw and then at the last minute, almost as if she realized what she was about to do, it fell to her side and she retreated.

  “’Tis nothing, just an accident.”

  “That was caused by a fist, James, and not nothing. I know what they look like, as my brothers have upon occasion come home with just such a mark.”

  “Some men tried to jump him outside his club.”

  Glaring at Cam, James raised his hand as Eden began to speak.

  “I am unharmed and a friend came to my aid,” James said, surprised at how comfortable he felt saying the word friend.

  “You cannot go about London unescorted, James, surely you see that? Someone is trying to dispatch you to the afterlife and you seem hell-bent on allowing it to happen!” Eden snapped.

  James sent Cam a look as if to say “help,” however the younger man just raised his hands and smiled.

  “While I do not make a habit of agreeing with any member of my family and most especially not Eden,” Cam said, rolling his eyes as Eden poked out her tongue. “In this I fear she is correct. It was folly to gad about unprotected. Perhaps in future may I suggest you take one of your protectors with you.”

  “Dukes do not gad anywhere, Sinclair,” James said, “and I do not need a protector.”

  “Cam is right, you must take more care, James.”

  “I need a drink,” James growled, his earlier good mood having fled with the start of the discussion about his death. The thump he had taken to the side of the head last night had been throbbing steadily all morning, and now Eden's haranguing had made it worse. Stalking to the table, James reached for the decanter. Pulling out the stopper and tipped a large amount into a glass.

  “You took more than a punch to your jaw, didn't you?” Eden said, as she and Cam followed him. “Your movements would suggest your ribs are also sore.”

  “Don't fuss, Eden, I am well.”

  Cam laughed. “You sounded just like Dev and me then.”

  James grunted something no one but he understood, and then raised his glass to his lips.

  “What is it, Cam?”

  James watched as Cam sniffed loudly at his sister's query.

  “Don't drink that!”

  James was so surprised at the roared demand he lowered the glass instantly.

  “Get Essie!” Cam said, taking the glass from his hands.

  “What's happening?” James said as Eden picked up her skirts and ran from the room. “What the hell is going on, Cam?” he demanded.

  “If you will wait for an explanation until my sisters arrive, James, I wish to be sure I have my facts right.”

  Eden's brother had lost all trace of his usual jovial demeanor; his eyes were narrowed as he stared at the glass he still held in his hand.

  Several tense minutes later he heard the thud of feet approaching at a run.

  “What is it, Cam?” Essie hurried into the room with Eden on her heels.

  “This drink contains poison, Ess, but I need you to confirm it.”

  “What!” James roared. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” Cam said softly, and that one word told James that whatever was in that glass was intended to kill him. He watched Essex Sinclair take the glass in her hands and dip her handkerchief in the liquid. She then allowed one drop to fall on the tip of her finger, which she rubbed on her teeth.

  “No! Surely it will harm you?” James tried to stop the woman.

  Eden placed a hand on his arm. “It will not harm her, James. Such a small amount will have no impact on Essie, but she will determine what the poison is.”

  James stood silently at Eden's side, watching the Sinclairs. How had Cam known there was poison in his glass, and how did Essex know from one drop what that poison was?

  “Belladonna.”

  “Are you sure?” James could not take it in. How had someone entered his house and poisoned his brandy?

  “We will take the decanter and glass, James, and dispose of them,” Cam said, nodding to Essie to follow him. “We shall return shortly to discuss what should be done next.”

  As Eden prepared to follow her siblings he gripped her arm, halting her.

  “I think not,” James said, hauling her back to his side.

  “I-I must return to our sisters.”

  “They will be well cared for with Jane, Samantha's maid, watching over them.”

  “I must go to Cam and Essex, they may need my help.”

  James could feel the tension inside her.

  “A glass and a decanter will not tax their strength, Eden, and I have a few questions for you, which you will answer.”

  James pulled her with him deeper into the room, until they stood before the windows.

  “It is a wonderful room, James. H-have you read all these books?” Eden was looking around, determined to distract him. “I love reading—in fact, if I may I will have a look around—”

  “Be quiet, Eden.”

  She did, biting her lip. Her eyes shot to the door, hoping no doubt for her siblings to return and save her. Something clenched in his chest as he looked at the top of her head and suddenly all the questions he had wanted to ask were replaced with a desperate need to touch her. He took hold of a curl, rolling the satin between his fingers.

  “Look at me,” James tugged the curl. She lifted her head and he saw the longing that he knew she would read in his eyes too. One more tug and he had her in his arms, his lips upon hers, her body pressed to his. This kiss was fierce, a clash of mouths and teeth as they fought for more. He swallowed the soft noises she made and pulled her closer; it wasn't enough. He wanted her skin in his hand and the layers of clothing between them removed.

  “Eden, God, what you do to me.” He shuddered as he dragged his lips from hers to run them down her neck.

  She smelled like the most alluring flower in any
garden, arousing him further. Sliding one hand up her waist he stroked her ribs then cupped her breast, dipping his finger inside her bodice and tracing the edge.

  “Oh, James.”

  Her throaty cry nearly undid him completely. He grabbed a handful of her skirts, but as he lifted them, the one small rational thought he still retained told him to stop or be prepared for the consequences when her siblings returned. Claiming her lips in one last savage kiss, he then eased back. Stepping away from her, he fought for composure.

  “James.”

  God, it was only one word, but the throaty purr nearly had him reaching for her again. Instead he started asking questions.

  “How did your brother know there was poison in my glass?” Still in the grip of a fierce lust for the woman before him, the words came out harsher than he intended.

  “Pardon?” She blinked.

  “Your brother, how did he know there was poison in my glass unless it was he who put it there?”

  “No!” She gasped, stumbling back a step. “Cam would never hurt you, or anyone, surely you cannot believe otherwise.”

  He didn't, actually. The thought had never entered his head before today, yet now he had said the words he would use them to get answers to the questions that niggled at him about the Sinclair family. They were a closemouthed lot and would protect each other to the death. James needed some leverage to get the answers he sought and it seemed he had found it.

  “Essie also knew it was poison after one taste, surely that is too much of a coincidence?”

  “No, we—my family, we protect you, have protected you?” She was shaking her head and stumbling toward the door.

  It hurt his chest to see the fear replacing passion in her eyes, but he could not back down now. He and his sister were close with this family, no matter how he had tried to deny it. Therefore, he had to know Samantha was safe in their company.

  “I-I must go, my brother is calling me.”

  “I hear nothing, Eden.”

  She shot a look at the door. “Please, I beg of you do not question me further.”

  “It was definitely belladonna, James,” Essie said, entering the room with her brother on her heels.

  “Eden?” Cam questioned as he noticed his sister's distress. “Why is she upset, Raven?”