A Passion So Strong

Home > Other > A Passion So Strong > Page 4
A Passion So Strong Page 4

by Chasity Bowlin


  When she’d completed her task and returned the cooking pot to the stove, he spoke. “Would it be possible to get some water for washing up?”

  She let out a startled shriek, her hand flying to her bosom. He envied it immediately.

  “You startled me!” she said accusingly.

  “Forgive me, Miss Everleigh. It was not my intent to cause alarm. But I’d prefer not to sit down to dinner with the dust of the road still upon me.”

  She blushed prettily, her rosy cheeks deepening to a darker shade of pink. “Of course, Lord Strong. It was remiss of me not to have it to sent up earlier.”

  “Brought it up yourself, you mean… as you’ve no servants to do it, and your relatives appear to be less than helpful. It would merely have been one more task to fall upon your shoulders. I’d not have that on my conscience when I can just as easily fetch it myself,” he offered smoothly.

  “I call them my aunts, Lord Strong. We are not related by blood, but they are the only family I have ever known,” she replied, correcting him without thought.

  It had been a calculated error on his part. He wished to know what the relationships were, but in truth, it had no bearing on his investigation as far as he could see. It was merely to appease his curiosity about her. “I see. How is it that you have become a ward to the Ravenner family?”

  “I have no answer for that, Lord Strong. I was a foundling child… and they were most generous.”

  A foundling child who happened to look just like everyone else in the family? The entire thing was becoming more and more strange.

  “I see… And you’ve no notion of who your family might have been?”

  “None, my lord. The previous Marquess found me after a carriage accident. I survived, the driver did not. But there was no one else present who could identify me or lay any sort of claim to me. And so I was taken to Ravenner Abbey and welcomed into the bosom of the family…. I have only ever been made to feel welcome and the entire family has been naught but generous with me.”

  Sebastian moved about the kitchen, noting how tidy it was, how she’d carefully maintained everything. He’d known Ambrose’s father and while the former Marquess was a good man, the entire situation seemed far fetched to him. It was more than likely that Miss Anne Everleigh was in fact one of his by-blows, which would make her Ambrose’s half sister rather than simply a ward. “And your aunts? Are they generous with you? It appears to me that the work load is not at all evenly distributed.”

  She laughed at that, a soft sound that was husky and all too appealing. “Indeed. They are generous with me, Lord Strong, just not in a way that would involve them dirtying their hands!”

  There was no other recourse but to be blunt. Sebastian fixed her with a curious stare and stated, “I apologize if I am speaking out of turn… but I find my current situation unaccountably strange. You needed help. You tried to ask for help but were thwarted in your attempts to do so. And yet, your guardian seemed to intuitively understand that it was still required and sent me here for you. It is all very puzzling, Miss Everleigh. Very puzzling indeed.”

  “I suppose it is rather puzzling when one factors into account all of that,” she agreed. But there was no further explanation.

  It was clearly a sore subject, Sebastian realized. Rather than press her further and potentially alienate the one other sane person in the madhouse he’d just come to, he gave a curt nod. “Families can be quite trying, those we are born into and those we form over time, I suppose,” he offered as an olive branch. “My own especially… though I daresay there is no one in my family as colorful as your aunts appear to be.

  A slight smile curved her lips. “Colorful is certainly one description that could be handily applied to them.”

  “If I may be so bold, Miss Everleigh, I understand that it was not your choice to come to Evenwold, but rather an unfortunate consequence brought about by the Marquess’ recent marriage. I am sorry for that… that your life had to be so uprooted and disrupted.”

  She had paused then, her hands still on the rough surface of the kitchen table rather than cleaning busily as she had since he’d entered. “Thank you, Lord Strong. Ravenner Abbey is the only I have ever known… I was not pleased to leave it when I did. But I cannot help but feel that, perhaps, Evenwold is where I belong after all. I cannot explain it. I cannot even begin to describe the feeling to you that I had when I arrived here… But there are those who would see us fail here, for reasons I cannot fathom.”

  “Fail at what?”

  “At managing the estate, at making this farm profitable and self-sustaining… Whether it is because we are women alone or whether it is perhaps because someone covets this property, I cannot say. I can only say that the rumors, and yes my aunts did contribute to the gossip about witches and spells, but the rest of it—does that not smack of sabotage, Lord Strong?”

  “It does,” he agreed. He was both pleased to see that she had considered that as an option but also put out because she was effectively doing his job for him. Did she really need any assistance at all?

  “If you are here to help at Blackraven’s behest, then perhaps that is what you can offer in the way of assistance rather than estate management… I need to know my enemies, Lord Strong, and at present they are well hidden.”

  “I will do my best, Miss Everleigh,” he replied smoothly. “What is it about Evenwold that makes you feel you belong here?”

  “Nothing tangible. Nothing that is even describable, in truth. It’s like a pair of well fitting boots, or a well used saddle that simply feels right… I feel right at Evenwold. And I have a purpose here. I will not give that up. I want to be productive and to achieve something!”

  Her impassioned speech was bookended by a loud burst of laughter from the garden. In its wake, they stood there in silence for a moment. They recognized one another in that moment. They were both outsiders.

  “That is important to you?” he finally asked. “To feel that you are using your time productively?”

  “Yes,” she answered evenly. “I dislike inefficiency a great deal. Sadly, Minerva and Athena do not share my aversion. They are quite adept at being inefficient.”

  “And they are to be your chaperones?” The skeptical tone of his question escaped her. In truth, he couldn’t imagine that anyone would ever imagine that the Ladies Minerva and Athena might be a stabilizing influence for anyone.

  She made a moue of distaste. “Yes. Apparently, without the guidance and supervision of my older and wiser female guardians, I would be incapable of resisting the temptations of the flesh.”

  Any discussions of temptations of the flesh would surely lead to disaster, he thought. But what a glorious disaster it would be. Still, his next choice of subject was not much better. “And the Ladies Minerva and Athena are deemed appropriate?”

  Apparently, his doubt was more obvious with that question and she glanced up it him in surprised amusement, before answering with a soft laugh, “Only by virtue of their age. It is well beyond their appearance. They are both more than forty, though they will cavort with whatever dark forces are necessary to avoid looking it.”

  It shocked him to hear that. He would not have guessed either woman to be much beyond Anne in their age, which by her own admission, was less than twenty five. “Whatever forces they have aligned with have surely served them well.”

  “They are lovely creatures… if a bit wild and fey,” Anne agreed.

  She grew quiet, as did he. Silence stretched between them and with it an awareness that neither could afford to indulge. He was alone with her—in a house without the benefit of a servant. Her alarmingly lax chaperones were dancing and cavorting in the garden like madwomen. If he were to touch her, to kiss her, she would not stop him. He could tell that from the high color in her cheeks, from the way she watched him beneath lowered lashes and from the slight tremble of her lower lip. And because he’d never wanted anything more than he wanted to kiss her in that moment it was time for him to go. He need
ed to put as many walls between them as Evenwold would allow.

  “I should go,” he said. “Do you need my help?”

  She glanced at the heavy tureen of soup he’d gestured toward. “I can manage on my own,” she replied softly. “Thank you.”

  He turned to leave, but she called out. “Lord Strong?”

  Sebastian halted. Part of him hoped that she would beg a kiss of him, another part of him prayed fervently that she would not. “Yes, Miss Everleigh?”

  “They are not wicked women,” she said, speaking of her aunts. “But they are eccentric. They go on about magic and witchcraft, but they are not evil… I believe that they are merely bored, infected with a certain ennui. They’re delusions are harmless, I promise. Do not let their nonsense get in the way of what you are here to do.”

  “If only I knew what that was precisely… Blackraven thought you required help, and clearly you had intended to request it from him. I am to assist you in discovering saboteurs, but I haven’t the faintest notion why anyone would attempt to sabotage a small farm. What is is that they want, Miss Everleigh? Can you answer me that?”

  She glanced up at him through her lashes. It wasn’t intended to be seductive or flirtatious. She was simply being efficient, as she was continuing to clean while they conversed. Still, it had an impact on him. Like a fist to the gut, it hit him with force.

  “Our servants have left us because they fear ghosts… the very ones you were warned of in the village.”

  He had not told her that. “How did you know I was warned in the village?”

  She paused then, her hand stilling on the counter. When she did lift her head to meet his gaze directly, he saw the lie in her eyes. “Everyone in the village speaks of it. I merely assumed.”

  “I see,” he replied, electing not to challenge her just yet. That would come soon enough. “So you need my help in procuring new servants, as well?”

  “I need your help to prove that there are no ghosts or spirits here at Evenwold… that anyone wandering about this property in the dark of night is a very flesh and blood villain with nothing otherworldly about them.”

  Sebastian frowned. “Have you encountered them, then? This flesh and blood villain?”

  Her frown was answer enough.

  “Has someone harmed you, Anne?” he pressed. She hadn’t given him leave to use her name. It was a liberty, an intimacy that he should not take upon himself, but he could not call it back and had no desire to do so.

  “I’m quite fine,” she insisted. “I’ve become quite adept at taking care of myself… I worry more for Minerva and Athena who appear to be completely oblivious to any danger. I need to know that they are safe, Lord Strong. And if you could do that for me… I cannot express to you how grateful I would be.”

  He didn’t want her gratitude. In fact, the very idea of it offended him. But that was his own problem. She considered herself to be responsible for those women, to be their caregiver. But they seemed to have little concern or regard for her. “And what else is going on that you require my assistance with?”

  “I can handle the rest on my own, Lord Strong. The non-existent ghosts and the lack of servants! Solve that problem, Lord Strong, allow me to bring back servants to this house, and I will solve the rest of them myself.”

  “Consider it done, Miss Everleigh. Consider it done.”

  ***

  Anne watched him leave. She was not entirely ignorant of passion and desire. The library at Ravenner Abbey was well stocked and there were many poems she’d read that had stirred her to wonder at what it would be like to feel a man’s touch. But she’d never encountered a flesh and blood man who stirred those feelings within her.

  He hadn’t touched her, hadn’t said or done a thing that was improper. But she’d wanted him to, yearned for it in a way that left her breathless and afraid. For all of her life, she’d managed to rein in the impulsive, disaster-prone and dramatic aspects of her personality. For so long, she’d repressed any hint of wickedness in herself. She’d struggled to be as proper and prim as her adoptive family deserved. To do any less would have been a disservice to them. But with nothing more than a glance, she was ready to throw all of that away on a man whom she knew next to nothing about.

  “It’s so very easy to be good when there’s naught to tempt you,” she muttered, as she carried the heavy tureen into the dining room and placed it on the sideboard. She needed to change for dinner and call her aunts before the summoned Beelzebub himself by accident.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Sebastian paused outside the door to the dining room. He could hear Lady Minerva and Lady Athena within. It was obvious from their hushed tones that whatever they were discussing was intended to be a secret.

  “We cannot let her find out sister. She’ll ruin it all just to spite us!”

  Athena spoke then, more calmly than her sister. “Minerva, you mustn’t worry so much about all of this. We’ve done all that we can to ensure that things go well. I must say he was a bit unexpected! Had I any notion that Ambrose would send him… dear heavens!”

  “We must tread carefully, Athena, lest we are discovered… Anne must never know!”

  Those women, he thought, were undoubtedly behind all of the troubles that Miss Anne Everleigh was facing. They had not been in the house earlier when he’d been visited, as it were, but that didn’t mean they were not responsible for it. It stood to reason that if they were keeping secrets and plotting schemes behind Anne’s back that their purpose was nothing but foul.

  Did she not see their perfidy? Like so many others, was she blinded to her relatives wickedness out of a sense of loyalty and family honor? Exposing them and their misdeeds would not endear him to her. There was a reason people routinely shot the messenger.

  Making a noise to alert them to his presence, Sebastian entered the dining room. Better to cut their conversation short than be caught lurking about eavesdropping.

  “Lady Minerva, Lady Athena… good evening,” he said, bowing his head to each in turn.

  “Lord Strong!” Athena gushed. “Oh, my how lovely it will be to have a gentleman at dinner again! It’s been so long!”

  “It was only last week that Squire Alcott joined us for dinner, Athena,” Minerva corrected.

  “But the Squire is… well, the Squire. And Lord Strong is not,” Athena continued undeterred. “Do sit beside me at dinner so I can quiz you on all the town gossip.”

  “It would be a poor conversation, Lady Athena, as I was only in town for a few days before my journey to Evenwold. Alas, I have already arranged to sit with Miss Everleigh so that we might discuss the issues that have resulted in the loss of your servants,” he offered to ease the rejection.

  Athena offered a small sigh of disappointment while Minerva simply favored him with a cagey glance.

  “Is that the only arrangement you and Anne have entered into, Lord Strong?” she asked.

  “Quiet so, Lady Minerva,” he replied, keeping his tone even and without heat. “I would be quite interested to hear from you about any of the rumors and gossip that were relayed to me while in town… Ghosts and ancient curses are nothing more than stories intended to frighten children into behaving, to be certain, but perhaps there is some kernel of truth at the heart of these tales?”

  Athena nodded her head vigorously. “Of course, there’s truth to them! We come from a very long line of gifted women, Lord Strong… Evenwold has been in the family for generations. We are not the first powerful women to reside within its walls!”

  “It’s true,” Minerva agreed. “Though the law looked less favorably on our kind in the past. Why Anne—.”

  “Should be here any minute!” Athena interrupted.

  He had no idea what Minerva had been about to say, but he was impressed that Athena, vapid and fey as she was, had so handily cut her off to prevent her from revealing something that they did not want him to know. What about Anne? They had been speaking of family and while he was convinced that Anne was indeed a
blood relation to the Ravenner family, they appeared to be keeping that information to themselves for reasons he could not begin to fathom. It wasn’t simply the secrets of Evenwold that he would have to unravel if he meant to get to the bottom of this mystery.

  “I couldn’t help but notice there is a similarity between Anne and yourselves, my ladies. Is she perhaps a distant relation?”

  Minerva and Athena only smiled brightly at him, neither of them acknowledging his question.

  At that precise moment, Anne entered the dining room. Sebastian turned to watch her. She didn’t glide as many ladies did. She strode with purpose, as if she hadn’t the time to waste. It was true enough he supposed, but she was no less appealing for it. He admired her character as well as her figure and that was dangerous ground for a man such as him.

  “I am sorry to have kept you all waiting. Please, serve yourselves… I apologize for the humble nature of our meal, Lord Strong. I fear my culinary skills are lacking, and a simple stew is all I can manage,” she said.

  Sebastian inclined his head. “It will be a delicious, I’m sure. It has been far too long since I have enjoyed the delights of English food in an English home.”

  “It’ll be eaten in an English home,” Minerva stated sotto voice. “You have that much correct!”

  “Minerva!” Athena whispered in a scandalized tone, then immediately spoiled it with a giggle.

  “If my cooking leaves so much to be desired, Minerva,” Anne stated firmly, “I will happily turn the task over to you.”

  Minerva smiled though the expression was lacking any warmth. “Not at all, Anne. Your skills may be limited, but mine are nonexistent. We’ll fare far better with you at the stove than I!”

  After they’d all filled their bowls, they seated themselves at the small dining table. Minerva and Athena were whispering amongst themselves, and from their side glances and the nervous tittering that occasionally escaped Athena, it was quite clear that Anne was the subject of their conversation.

 

‹ Prev