Claree turned pleading eyes to her husband, and Lucy could see the shadowy grief in her eyes for the daughters they would never have. "J-Just think, John. We could give Lucy a London season."
"You could spend a season in hell, you mean!" Ian blustered. "You're going on a diplomatic mission. Knowing Lucy, she'll stir up another war!" He shot his daughter a glare so blistering she half expected her skin to peel. "What about your mother, Lucy? The baby coming?"
Lucy felt a quick jab of guilt.
"Ian, hush," Emily chided. "If Lucy lingers about, waiting for all the babes we intend to put in that cradle, she'll never leave Blackheath Hall. She's a woman grown. She has her own life to lead."
"I've no objection as long as she leads it on this side of the ocean!"
"But there are things we can never give Lucy here, no matter how much we might wish to. She would be with Claree and John. She would be loved, safe."
"That girl wouldn't be safe if she were shackled in the Williamsburg gaol!" Ian bellowed. "We're talking about Lucy here. A loose cannon, unleashed in England. For God's sake, an hour ago the little hellion was dangling out windows and dressing up like a ghost!"
His hands closed over Emily's arms, his voice tight. "Don't you understand, Emily Rose? They would be in England. The d'Autrecourts. God knows what they might do!"
"They can't hurt us now," Emily insisted. Lucy winced, her mother's soft words cutting like a lash.
"The old duke died eight years ago," Emily said. "And Granville, the eldest, died before that. Alexander's brother Edward holds the dukedom now. Edward would never hurt her. He adored Alexander. As for the rest of the d'Autrecourts, they won't even acknowledge she's alive."
"How could they?" Ian demanded. "They have their tidy little grave tucked up in the family crypt and their tragic story about how she died. It might prove a trifle awkward if their long-dead granddaughter popped up in the middle of a London soiree."
"The d'Autrecourts have more reason to hide the truth than anyone. Besides, Lucy would be the guest of one of the first diplomats England has dealt with since the war. I hardly think they'd care to alienate her guardians."
"She doesn't belong in the midst of a pack of aristocratic dogs with their noses stuck so high in the air they don't give a damn who they trample over. That was why we fought the blasted war, to make certain our children were free of their power. Lucy belongs here with us."
"Do you really believe that?" Emily cupped her palm tenderly along the stubborn jut of her husband's jaw. "Or are you afraid that some dashing English rogue will carry her off to his castle and we'll never see her again?"
Lucy saw her father flinch, his cheekbones flooding with color. "Of course not! No Englishman in his right mind would take on a headstrong, wild-blooded, impossible little termagant like Lucy."
His words trailed off, and Lucy could see the very real dread in her father's eyes. "There's not an Englishman alive who could tame her," he said softly. "Or one who could be worthy of such a treasure."
"I'm not trundling off with 'prospective bride' painted on my forehead, Papa. All I want to do is take a holiday with John and Claree. For a year at most."
"Barely an hour ago you were claiming you would stay here forever, the next moment you're packing your trunk for England. I don't understand. Lucy, help me to understand."
The words hurt Lucy more than any others could have. From the first moment she had squared off against Ian Blackheath they had discovered they were kindred spirits, so much alike that they understood each other without words.
She had told him everything: from the fact that his amber waistcoat made him look like an overripe squash, to the sad, secret fear she'd had when she'd first arrived at Blackheath Hall so many years before—the fear that she was so wicked inside no one could ever love her.
For the first time in her life, Lucy turned away from the question in Ian Blackheath's crystal-blue eyes.
Papa, I can't tell you this, she wanted to cry.
Someone might be trying to hurt you and Mama, and I have to stop them. Alexander d'Autrecourt might be alive. And if he is... oh, God. If he is it could destroy you.
The guilt twisted deep, a voice inside her whispering: If he is, I could meet him, Papa. The father who wrote my "Night Song," the only memory I have of my life in England.
The prospect was a terror and a sweet temptation.
Lucy crossed to where Norah lay dreaming her sweet dreams—confident that when she awakened Mama would be there, with indulgent smiles and kisses, and Papa would be there to toss her up in his arms until she squealed with laughter.
Lucy knelt beside her small sister, brushing a dark curl from the child's dewy brow.
Was she doing the right thing in going to England? Lucy wondered desperately. It was as if she were being torn in two by the strange mixture of uncertainty and fear and anticipation she couldn't quite crush.
For the first time since she'd come to Blackheath Hall so many years before, Lucy was reaching into a past shrouded in mystery and haunting sorrow.
Perdition's Gate... The name of the rendezvous point echoed in her mind.
What was it that she was about to embrace?
A dream so impossible she'd never dared to dream it at all?
Or a nightmare that could destroy everyone she had ever loved?
Buy the book:
The Raider's Daughter
THE RAIDER SERIES
The Raider's Bride
The Raider's Daughter
To Catch a Flame
To Chase the Storm
Thank you
Thank you so much for reading THE RAIDER’S BRIDE. If you enjoyed reading this book, please consider giving a review or star rating to help other readers make a choice. It’s one way to support authors and is much appreciated!
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About the Author
Kimberly Cates
When Kimberly Cates was in third grade she informed her teacher that she didn't need to learn multiplication tables. She was going to be a writer when she grew up. Kimberly filled countless spiral notebooks with stories until, at age twenty-five, she received a birthday gift that changed her life: an electric typewriter. Kimberly wrote her first historical romance, sold it to Berkley Jove, and embarked on a thirty-year career as an author. Called “a master of the genre” by Romantic Times, her thirty-three bestselling, award-winning novels are noted for their endearing characters, emotional impact and their ability to transport the reader to the mists and magic of the British Isles.
Kimberly has also penned historical romances as Kimberleigh Caitlin and contemporary romances under the pseudonyms Kimberly Cates and Kim Cates.
Al
so by Kimberly Cates
ROGUES, RAKEHELLS AND REDEMPTION:
Culloden's Fire Series
Gather the Stars
Angel's Fall
Crown of Dreams
Crown of Mist
Morning Song
Saving Galahad (Coming Soon)
Celtic Rogues Series
Black Falcon's Lady
The Black Falcon's Christmas
Her Magic Touch
Briar Rose
Stealing Heaven
Lily Fair
The Raider Series
The Raider's Bride
The Raider's Daughter
To Catch a Flame
To Chase the Storm
AMERICAN WEST
Only Forever
FUTURE RELEASES:
Restless is the Wind
Contemporary Romance:
Fly Away Home
Historical Fiction:
The Queen’s Dwarf by Ella March Chase
The Virgin Queen’s Daughter by Ella March Chase
Three Maids for a Crown, a story of the Grey sisters by Ella March Chase
The Raider’s Bride Page 34
