As if she’d been made for him, carved from ether and prayers by a benevolent power and Phillip drank it in. He made love to Raven until their strength was spent and they could give no more.
As the fire died in the hearth, they lay chest to chest and nose to nose, whispering of their hopes and dreams for the years to come. Phillip sighed and his last thought before sleep claimed him was of pure satisfaction.
Won. I won.
Chapter Twenty-two
Phillip watched Raven as she dozed on the seat across from him. Neither of them had slept much the night before and he reveled in how their passions ignited his soul. Instead of exhaustion, he was experiencing a sense of renewal and invincibility as if the world were his for the taking with Raven at his side.
What a force she was!
He liked the man he’d become in her company and entertained himself imagining the life they would share together, the children they would sire and the accomplishments of their years.
Rain began to fall softly and added another layer of sensation to their isolation inside the tiny world of the carriage’s interior. Here was a universe with only Raven that made him happily forfeit the existence of any other.
Phillip carefully stretched out his legs so as not to disturb her or her voluminous skirts and tucked his hands into his pockets for warmth. The folded paper was an unexpected discovery, so he pulled it out with mild curiosity. The black wax seal bore the Earl of Trent’s arms and Phillip turned it over in his hands.
Warrick - To be opened after your marriage.
Phillip smiled. He guessed that the earl had slipped the note into his pocket when they’d been making their farewells and that it was no doubt, some clarification of Raven’s dowry or a formal wish for their marital happiness. After one glance at his lady love, Phillip impulsively decided that since they’d hardly waited to do anything in its proper order he didn’t see that the earl’s directive should be exempt.
He broke the seal and began reading Trent’s familiar handwriting with a comfortable sigh.
And then there was no thought of comfort.
Dear Warrick,
By the time you read this, I expect you will have the rise and fall of the ocean beneath you as you and your precious bride sail forth. What a lovely notion!
There are just a few things I neglected to tell you before your departure to rushed nuptials. You have married a creature that can only be described as a piece of penniless garbage without legitimate name, fortune or reputation. Her dowry is a feral love of pleasure and a talent for ruin. Enjoy! I have it on good authority from my male servants and several houseguests that your new wife is sure to provide you a heated bed to rival any whore in London.
What a lucky man you are!
Raven is a brilliant player, don’t you think? Be sure to convey my thanks to her again for assisting me in your downfall. What a dutiful ward she has proven to be!
Best of all: you claimed her out from under my roof with multiple reliable witnesses in attendance, announced your eternal love and then swept her away despite my “protests”. What delicious fodder for the scandal mills! This match will provide entertainment for our peers for years to come. No worries. I’ll dispatch the news to the papers so that not a salacious detail is ever forgotten.
Farewell and Good Luck.
I win.
Trent
The world hadn’t come to an end because he could still hear the sounds of the horses, the rattle of the carriage wheels and the soft patter of the rain against the roof and windows. But he couldn’t feel anything. Not the paper in his hands or the fingers that held the vile message. He couldn’t feel his own heartbeat or the breath slipping past his lips.
Phillip had no idea how long he remained in that strange suspended state but when it ended, it ended with a roar of pain and rage that overtook reason. He hammered on the carriage wall to signal the driver and the horses pulled to a stop.
Raven immediately awoke at the commotion, startled by the sudden sound of his distress, her eyes confused as her dreams were wrested from their reach. “Is it…highwaymen? Are we—in danger?”
“Get out!” Phillip kicked the carriage door open. “You vicious little bitch! Get out of this carriage!”
“What?!” Raven sat up, ramrod straight, her face draining of color. “What have I done? Are you mad?”
He thrust the letter at her and began to physically bundle her from her seat. “Here. Take it and have your piece of the triumph, you heartless witch!”
“Phillip!” she screamed as she was propelled onto the road, her skirts instantly spoiled by the mud. “What is this cruelty?!”
“Sir?” the coachman asked in alarm.
“Throw her baggage off! Miss Wells will be leaving us here!”
The man ducked his head and immediately obeyed as the lady began to wail in horror. Her trunks and hatboxes made a pitiful sight as they were ejected without ceremony into a mound alongside the hedges.
“Phillip! Stop this madness, I beg you! What has happened? You—I love you, Phillip! We—all that has passed between us—to what cause can—“
“Don’t! Don’t you dare speak to me of love! You whose very existence makes a mockery of that sentiment! What do you know of love?” he demanded, his voice shaking with emotion. “How dare you! What a fool I was to hand my heart over to a practiced whore! Though to my credit, you are quite the actress, Raven. I believed in you so completely I never even slowed to ask how such happiness was possible. But I know the answer now, don’t I, my darling!”
“I don’t understand what you’re saying! Please, Phillip. I dare to speak of love because it is the only language I know when I look at you!” Raven reached up to try to catch one of his hands but Phillip pulled away as if she were a leper.
“You think to play me for Trent? To laugh at my ruin? Well, you may get a chuckle or two from our adventures but I’ll be damned if I ever lay eyes on you again! Good bye, Raven. Rot in Hell!” Phillip slammed the carriage door closed, drew the curtains shut and banged on the wall to propel the carriage forward.
He closed his eyes as her screams echoed down the lane until he couldn’t hear her anymore and it was all he could do to keep his own screams of rage and pain from slipping past his lips.
Damn you, Raven Wells.
She cried out for the carriage to stop, for the world to right itself, for her beloved Phillip to come back to his senses and to her arms. She screamed until her voice deserted her and raw braying sobs gave way to silent tears. The rain began to fall in earnest and Raven stumbled back to the strange remnants of her life. Leather trunks and pretty hatboxes were so out of place in the grass, perhaps as out of place as she imagined she appeared. The dark green silk of her dress was a streaked muddy disaster and she could do nothing but wait.
She’d been dreaming about a grand ball. It was a waltz and Phillip was there in a vaguely erotic embrace. The room was gold and Raven was laughing as her slippers barely touched the floor.
And then Phillip was shouting and—
Not wearing a bonnet.
A practical voice inside her head interrupted the plummet of her thoughts. Raven hiccupped in agony and blindly put the unread letter that Phillip had given her into her skirt pocket. God, yes. Let’s not think of him. Let’s not… It’s raining and I have a bare head. Bonnet. I have half a dozen.
She knelt next to a hatbox and pulled out an impractical thing with peacock feathers and a wild flourish of organza on its crest, only to drop it onto the ground. Useless thing that. She tried another and another, only to add their exotic colors to the ruin of the scene around her. One of the bonnets was made from a fabric so fine it nearly melted at the touch of rain and she laughed mirthlessly. What a useless thing! Like me, yes? Silk and feathers and…I’m crumbling at the first touch of cold and rain.
The last box finally yielded a smart little straw bonnet with a frivolous lavender velvet bow that had once made her smile. She removed the bow to let it fall at h
er feet before putting on the bonnet that offered some slight protection from the elements.
The search for a coat or wrap came next and the casualties of that search were even more voluminous. By the time she’d located a reasonable cloak lined with fur, the ditch was strewn in a rainbow of gowns that fluttered pitifully in the wind as they fought against the rain that was driving them into the earth.
A small handled leather case for her jewels and any small item of immediate worldly value was the only thing she collected until she finally stepped back onto the road. Raven looked for a long time in the direction that Phillip’s carriage had gone as if staring might yet summon him back.
Practiced whore.
Heartless bitch.
Rot in Hell.
It had been easy in the orphanage to dismiss insults because one heard them so often that they were expected. But from the startling source of a man who had sworn his eternal love, decried her every part as priceless, from the person that only hours ago had made her cry out his name in pleasure…
There’s a cut that may never stop bleeding.
“Phillip.” Her voice was rough and she winced at the croaking sound of it. Then nodded for it seemed only right that the last time she would speak his name would have no beauty in it. Here was a loss she wasn’t ready to measure but Raven Wells was not a piece of delicate silk to lie down in the mud and gulp down shame.
She turned her back against the direction that Phillip had taken and pivoted to face the other way.
It was human nature to want to look back, to take one last view of the life she had had, the love she had lost and the dream that had died in the violence of minutes. Raven nodded in acceptance of the longing to linger and then lifted her chin one firm inch in defiance.
Raven Wells tightened her grip on her bag and began the long walk through the storm.
And vowed to never look back.
Finis
Read on for more of Raven Well’s story in the next book in the Black Rose Trilogy. The following is an excerpt from Book Two: LADY RISES!
**
Prologue
Kent, 1866
Phillip stumbled up the stone steps of Oakwell Manor, his legs numb from the pace of his ride. His clothing was sodden and his coat felt like it was woven from iced iron as it swung against him. He pounded on the door, caught in the furious storm of his emotions.
Walters opened the door with an expression of mild surprise but was no match for Phillip’s momentum. He was past the man before he’d spoken a single word, marching toward the beckoning light in the ground floor study.
“Trent!” he roared before he’d crossed the threshold. “Trent! You son of a bitch!”
The Earl leaned back in his chair and calmly set down his book. “Warrick!” he said cheerfully. “Not on your honeymoon?”
“You bastard! You well know that I am not!” Phillip ran a hand through his wet hair to pull it off his face. “You know more than anyone!”
“Yes, that is probably true.” Trent was all smiles. “Did you come by for enlightenment?”
For one fleeting breath, Phillip nearly launched at the smug figure seated before the fire, his hands curling into claws prepared to tear the earl’s throat out—but god, more than the satisfaction of murder, he desperately wanted to understand why his life had taken such a horrifying turn. “Yes. Enlighten me, old friend.”
“I once promised to be your mentor, did I not? But I failed you, dear boy. You crossed me long ago and I neglected to punish you. Let’s just say, that I vowed to set things right.”
“I…crossed you? How?” Phillip’s breath caught in his throat. “Long ago? That courtesan? Are you—is it even possible?”
“I assure you, it is more than possible. It is a certainty. You had the audacity to mount another man’s prized mare without so much as a by your leave, Warrick.” Trent’s cheery demeanor began to fall away. “You made a mockery of me! But you’ve got the bitter end of it now.”
“That was years ago! You—said you’d forgiven all!”
“A bit of a lie, that. I apologize.”
“So all of it? Raven was—all of this was some kind of scheme to destroy me in payment for tupping a slut you once bought a few dresses for?”
“I had her keeping!” Geoffrey screamed and then went as still as stone. “No need to revisit that now. But how is your bride?”
“What do you mean how is my bride? I’ve come here to fetch her! Tell her to come down, Trent!”
Geoffrey’s mouth fell open, his eyes alight with excitement, as he left his chair at last. “Tell me. Tell me what happened when you read my letter, Phillip. Tell me every detail and I will do what I can.”
Phillip could taste ashes in his mouth at the sick and strange turns in their conversation. But he wanted Raven. “What is there to tell? I read the letter while we were still in the carriage en route to Gretna Green.”
“Impatient boy! Did I not write on the envelope that you were to wait until after your marriage?”
“That? That is your complaint now?” Phillip had to clench his jaw and count to three before he could continue. “Raven was asleep and I found the note in my pocket. I didn’t think it would make any difference… But it made all the difference, didn’t it?”
“You didn’t make your wedding vows?”
Phillip pressed a hand to his eyes, the grip of a headache starting to clamp down. “We weren’t in any hurry. We’d stopped along the way and…I never thought to rush.”
“The letter.”
“Yes! I read it! I was bored and it was pouring rain to make for slow going and I read the damned thing!” Phillip dropped his hand, fury carrying him past the pain. “It was an ugly scene, sir! I woke her and threw her from the carriage! I ordered the driver to ride on and had every intention of never turning back!”
“Brilliant!”
“Was it? The carriage barely made it to the next hamlet before the mud became too much and the roads impassable. I was drinking at a roadside inn and cursing both of you to the fiery pits of Hell when it—occurred to me that I’d made a mistake.”
“Only one?” Trent prodded with a laugh.
“Raven is mine. The lack of dowry stings but money can be made, sir. If there is one lesson you did convey before descending into madness, it was that one. As for the rest of her villainy, I…” Phillip swallowed hard. Here was the harder hurdle. His instincts said that Raven was an innocent when he’d taken her that first time, and he’d have sworn her maidenly barrier was not contrived with theatrics. But the vile flatness of the language the earl had used; the vague threat that every male servant inside this hall was even now laughing at him behind his back because they’d had her in every room of Oakwell Manor… Phillip started to choke on the bile that rose up his throat. “It is between us. I will attend to her failings and if I have to keep her under lock and key, then so be it. Tell her to come down.”
“And my promise to notify the papers?”
“By all means,” Phillip countered. “Of course, you’ll have to include that she was your ward and under your supervision. The implications will be that you approved. Approved of every misstep and may have even encouraged it. I fail to see how your reputation is not also forfeit, so by all means. Contact the reporters. I’m sure they will have all manner of questions about how to raise a vile slut as one would a house cat.”
Trent nodded. “Good point. Oh, well. I will savor my victory in private then.” Geoffrey brushed off his hands. “Thank you for stopping by. I’m sorry I can’t offer you a room but you have so much to do, sir.”
“Yes. Keep your petty revenge, you piece of shit. Now, Raven. Tell her to come down,” Phillip repeated, a new chilling fear snaking up his spine. “The weather delayed my return but when she wasn’t…She’d abandoned all her things but I know she would have found her way back home.”
Geoffrey tugged on the bell pull. “She is not here.”
“She has to be here.”
Th
e earl smiled. “No. Don’t be a simpleton. A woman abandoned in a rainstorm by the side of the road with dark fast approaching? Use your imagination, boy. Go on. What do you suppose can have happened to your Raven by now?”
“God. No.” In his glorious upset, he’d seized only on the one outcome. She’d thrown a fit by the side of the road, dumped out her trunks in a temper and then marched homeward until securing transportation of her own so that she could return to the welcoming arms of her nefarious guardian and his praise for her conquest.
But now…his imagination achieved a dozen horrifying scenarios in the space of a single heartbeat and Phillip staggered back as if the earl had struck him in his midsection with an andiron.
Trent clapped his hands in malicious glee. “Look on the bright side, baron. Your whore has given you a gift and freed you of worry. Death is a quick solution and she’s either drowned in a fen, succumbed to the cold of exposure or actively hung herself from the first obliging tree she could find.” The earl shook his head. “It amazes me how women are so resourceful!”
“I murdered her,” Phillip whispered.
Strong hands began to seize his arms and Phillip’s misery was compounded by the humiliation of realizing he was about to be forced from the earl’s house.
“Nonsense! And what do you care?” Geoffrey scoffed and then started to laugh. “Although it is an unexpected thrill to see you so devastated, Warrick. For that, I shall never be able to repay you as you’ve made years of planning and all my pains worth it.”
No matter what wicked part she’d played in his downfall, the guilt he felt at her destruction was paralyzing. “All this? Because years ago, I fancied myself in love with Lacey?”
“Was that her name?” the earl asked.
Phillip’s gaze narrowed, his rage returning in full force, choking him. Only the footmen’s hold kept him from hurling himself at Trent.
“I’d forgotten,” Lord Trent admitted softly. “Throw him out and see that he is never admitted to my property again. Good bye, Warrick.”
Lady Falls (Black Rose Trilogy) Page 18
