Ravenstone (Book 1, The Ravenstone Chronicles)

by Louise Franklin

  Georgiana watched the girls, wishing she could call them over to sit with her, but knowing they would rather play with Mud.

  “I heard Nick was here,” Charles said, sitting down again.

  She turned to look at him and wished she could make things right between Nicholas and her brother. She knew he missed his friend. They had been like brothers and had confided in each other. She imagined their last five years together in the Navy had made them even more reliant on each other’s counsel.

  “I saw him at Lady Kingston’s dinner a fortnight ago.”

  “Ah, yes, the dinner,” Charles said, frowning.

  “You heard then it was a great success, much talked about still.”

  Charles studied the fire. He looked resigned, lost in his memories.

  “What was it like?” she asked softly.

  “What?” he asked, turning to look at her and taking a sip from his glass.

  “Life in the Navy.”

  “Ah,” he said and smiled slowly. “The worst excitement I have ever had. I fear the rest of my life will never quite compare.”

  He was watching the flames again and she thought he would say nothing more about it, but then he continued.

  “At first I thought I had made the biggest mistake in my life, and even contemplated crawling back and asking Father’s forgiveness.”

  “That is very bad, indeed.”

  “It was horrible. The smell of a ship alone made me sick and we had not even taken to sea yet. We were fortunate, we thought, to be commissioned on the same ship, not realizing until later that for such luck to occur there was reason and not a good one.

  “Captain William Lamont was the man aboard a ship called the Oriana and he was not much loved by his crew, and in turn, his men were not much loved either. We started as midshipmen and were so to learn the sea. It was our duty to help the lieutenants control the crew and fortunately, as we were born to privilege, a certain amount of authority was already due us by the seamen. We were, however, not given any respect. That we had to earn for ourselves.”

  He stopped speaking and was lost in thought, his eyes far away as he remembered something.

  “Did you?”

  He pulled himself back from his thoughts and turned to her. “Hmm?”

  “Did you win their respect?”

  “Eventually, yes,” he said and smiled.

  “How did you manage it?”

  He frowned, clearly not sure what to say next. “Certain events are not meant for a lady’s ears.”

  “Oh, Charles, I thought we had agreed on your last visit you were not to treat me as a simpleton.”

  “I am only trying to show you the respect due you.”

  “Respect,” she scoffed. “Show me respect by treating me as a strong woman able to cope well with life’s less pleasant side. We are not fragile creatures, Charles. We do not break.”

  “If you are certain,” he said his eyes hard. “You want all the details then?”

  “I do, indeed.”

  He leaned forward and, glancing at Jane and Margaret to make sure they were paying no attention to the adults, whispered, “Even the one where I was held down in the Captain’s cabin by two of his lieutenants so he could bugger me?”

  She gasped, the sound drawing the girls’ attentions to her. Charles stood, poured himself another brandy and poured her one too.

  “Here, drink this,” he said evenly, handing her the snifter. “It will bring back your color.”

  She took it gratefully, allowing the warmth of the alcohol to restore her composure. Charles returned to his seat.

  “Still want the details?” he asked.

  She nodded, not trusting her own voice, and he smiled. “By God, Georgiana, is there any limit to your daring?”

  When she didn’t answer, he took another swallow of his brandy and she wondered that he was not already drunk.

  “Nick was the stronger of us,” he said slowly. “They knew he would kill them did they try something like that with him, but I was not so well placed. While Nicholas was on watch, the Captain called me to his cabin and suggested I play the girl for him. I refused, and his lieutenants arrived to insist. A cabin boy who overheard my dilemma informed Nick who arrived on the scene at the most opportune time, and held a knife to the Captain’s throat. They released me with no harm done, but Nick was flogged for leaving his station.”

  “But officers aren’t flogged,” she said.

  “Indeed,” he said. “But he was, and severely, and do you know he stood throughout the lashing without once falling to his knees, without not once crying out? It infuriated the Captain.”

  “But won the seamen’s respect.”

  “Yes,” Charles said slowly.

  “Did your standing improve?” she asked carefully.

  “Not at first,” he frowned. “Nick and I were given the worst assignments and the Captain and lieutenants refused to teach us what we needed to know, so we learned our duties from the seamen. I didn’t sleep much, and was constantly afraid of being molested. While I became weaker, Nick only became stronger and had to take care of us both. Then the Oriana was sunk in battle off the coast of Cyprus, and the Captain and his lieutenants sunk with her. When we had made our way back to London, we were fortunate in our next commission. And so wiser and hardened, we thrived and we were soon made Lieutenants on board the HMS Blackburn.”

  “You miss him,” she said.

  “Like a severed limb,” he said. “And now you have heard from me what only one other person knows. It is a great confidence, don’t you think?”

  She hesitated in answering him, familiar with the particular look in his eye.

  “Yes,” she said softly. “A great confidence that I am honored you should have shared with me.”

  “It is your turn then,” he said and leaned forward, his eyes glowing with intensity.

  “My turn?” she asked.

  “Share a great confidence with me.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “What happened while I was away at sea trying hard not to be buggered by some pervert?”

  She glanced at the girls but they paid no attention to the conversation as they played with the dog. It was important that she make the right response but what she did not know was which response was the correct one.

  Telling him the truth would not help settle his already agitated mind. If she lied to him, she knew he would feel even more isolated. He would recognize the lie for what it was. He was no fool. His good friend was lost to him, and his life in London was taking its toll. He wanted her to trust him. This moment meant everything to him, the lines on his face and the look in his eyes yearning for her confidence.

  But still she hesitated.

  “Mother told me,” he said softly, his voice edged in disappointment.

  She took a breath and said lightly, “What, exactly?”

  “Jane and Margaret are yours,” he said and watched her closely. Breathless, she could not speak, but her eyes shifted to the girls and he followed her gaze before returning to hers. He rose from his chair slowly and set his glass down. He sat next to her and took her hands in his.

  “She would never have done that,” Georgiana said.

  He smiled. “No, you are right. She would not have, but she let slip a wrong word and I caught her out. And now it is obvious.”

  “Is it?”

  “To me, yes.”

  “How so?”

  “I have had some time to think about events and circumstance. Your reaction to being parted from them was also enlightening.”

  “I see.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “To protect them, I suppose.”

  He looked hurt. “You don’t trust me?”

  She hesitated and she knew that he noticed the pause. “I do. It’s just you were gone so long I wasn’t sure, and I didn’t know how you would react if you did know.”

  “And the father,” he asked softly.

  �
�Is not important anymore.”

  “Still you cannot find it in your heart to trust me?” he said. He shook his head in disappointment, and then he stood. “I need a long walk.” He left the drawing room closing the door softly.

  ***

  Charles did not come down for dinner that night, and she ate in silence with her mother who had still not forgiven her for the afternoon indiscretion. She longed for the warmth and laughter of the kitchen.

  She read the girls a good night story, and when Betty came to fetch them, she asked that they remain with her. She stayed up half the night, watching them sleep, and wondering at the changes in them in such a short time.

  Jane had freckles now and Margaret’s hair was growing lighter. She studied them to make sure she missed nothing. They smelled like little girls, their skin absorbing the sweetness around them, like the cinnamon they ate on their bread. The last six months had been taxing, and she was only now realizing how so. She felt tears on her cheeks and rubbed them away with her hand. She had tried so hard not to mind being away from them, and failed utterly. She minded a great deal.

  She fell asleep, listening to them breathe, and thinking it was the best sound on earth. She awoke to the sound of their giggles. Opening her eyes, she stretched but the mattress next to her was empty. Then, the bed covers moved at the foot of the bed, and whispers erupted from under them. She smiled and yawned.

  “I wonder what that sound is?” she said aloud and was rewarded by another fit of giggles.

  She sat up and sighed. “Mud, is that you?”

  Muffled laughter and a shriek from Jane were followed by utter silence. Margaret, no doubt, had probably silenced Jane.

  “Oh well, it was probably just the wind,” she said and relaxed back onto her pillows. “I think I will go back to sleep now.”

  The shapes crawled up the bed and then exploded out from under the covers with a loud roar from the girls. Georgiana pretended a great fright and swooned with her hand on her brow. They watched her cautiously but came closer and when she could feel their breath on her face, she opened her eyes suddenly and laughed like a ghoul.

  They jumped back in fright and laughter, and she caught each by a foot as they were about to escape off the bed. She dragged them back and tickled them until they all lay in a pile of exhausted amusement. Betty arrived to take the girls to be dressed, and she promised to have breakfast with them in the kitchen later. First, she had to find Charles.

  Harriet informed her he had not returned in the night. Distressed, she asked to have her horse to be saddled. She galloped across the fields in search of him, cursing herself for having given in to his demands. It took her two hours to find him.

  ***

  Charles watched his sister arrive through the dark woods that surrounded the ruins, and wondered why he had not seen before how beautiful she was. She sat on her black horse with immense poise, her head held high. There was an elegance to her that did not come just from breeding but from character.

  Her hair remained short, and he wondered why she preferred it so. Her eyes seemed larger, her full lips enhanced with the lack of anything to detract from them. Did she imagine that the shorter hair made her less attractive? he wondered. If that was the case, he should warn her that it only made her look all the more stunning.

  He knew the moment she saw him, for her horse gave a small step sideways as if she had communicated it. She looked relieved, and immediately he was sorry he had caused her alarm. He remained still, under her scrutiny, knowing what she would see.

  He stood among the ruins of the old castle, looking like he had been drinking all night in some disreputable establishment. His white shirt was loosened from his breeches and he had lost his cravat somewhere. He had walked for miles and then ended up amongst the ruins of the castle, thinking about Georgiana. He did not want to believe what he had come to suspect, but there were too many unanswered questions to deny the possibilities.

  He smiled at her as she approached, and walked to meet her. He helped her off the horse and found a seat for her on some stones amongst the ruins. She removed her gloves and watched him as he walked slowly to her mare and ran a hand over her flank.

  “Have you been here all night?” she asked, frowning. The slight inflection on the word here drew his attention and he glanced at her. So she did know. He had wondered.

  “Ah, Georgiana,” he sighed. “Does it not exhaust you to carry so many secrets?”

  Her face was guarded again, and he felt himself grow angry despite how tired he felt. He had never been so tired before, he was sure of it. But it was an exhaustion born from the weariness of the soul.

  “Yes,” he said finally. “I saw the smugglers.”

  “But they did not see you?”

  “No,” he said and noticed her relax again.

  He rubbed Bella’s neck with some grass he pulled. His sister had ridden her hard and the mare’s smooth black skin glistened with sweat.

  He worked on the horse, cognizant of his sister watching him. He had so many questions to ask her, but he didn’t know if could live with the answers. Asking Georgiana questions could be dangerous, he had learned.

  He remembered how hurt he had felt when he had first returned to London, and realized she did not trust him. He wanted to protect her and felt it was his duty to do so. The last few weeks his thoughts had often led him to her. Before yesterday, he had been the conquering hero returned from the battlefield ready to defend the innocent, only to discover that he had been the innocent and she the one protecting him. He felt like a child again and as unfair as the resentment was, he felt it anyway.

  He tired of being the one who was in constant need of protection. He felt vulnerable, and both Nicholas and Georgiana made him feel more so. They seemed invariably to become stronger with life’s hardships, while he became weaker in the face of conflict. It wore him down and made him want to remove himself from them. He didn’t want to know what had happened to change her so. He was quite sure the knowledge would only make his guilt worse. Georgiana was now a woman with an inner core of steel he would never possess.

  With no part of the mare left to rub down, he let the grass in his hands drop to the ground and turned to her. “Are there many more secrets, Georgy,” he asked, using his childhood name for her.

  “No,” she said.

  “I may not be as strong as you are,” he said finally. “But I am still your brother and I want to help.”

  “I’m fine, dear brother,” she said.

  He nodded, not believing her, and turned to look at the castle. “What are they smuggling?”

  “The usual things,” she shrugged. “Tobacco, French brandy, tea.”

  “And you allow it?”

  She sighed. “I had hoped they would stop using the castle.”

  “Will you turn them in?”

  She took a moment to answer him and he wondered at the pause. She would provide a version of the truth, he thought, and was deciding which version.

  “Edward has not been dutiful in taking care of those that relied on the estate for a living. His steward here has not been good enough to see to even their basic needs. They have had to rely on themselves to see them through. I don’t feel that I am in a position yet to be able to disallow them this.”

  “You realize that you and Edward both can be found guilty of smuggling?”

  She offered an enigmatic smile and he felt his frustration rising again. He wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t already know. He turned his back to her and walked a few paces away, his gaze on the trees, trying to understand her.

  He could do nothing to help mend what had happened to her in the past. As it was, all he could do was help her now, but he knew he had to be careful, because she refused to confide in him.

  “You know I want to help,” he said, turning back to her.

  “But without all the information, I will only make a mess of it.” He sat down next to her, taking her hand in his. She had such thin long hands, deli
cate, he thought.

  “Who was it that hurt you so badly?” he asked softly.

  She inhaled sharply, and tried to pull her hand away, but he held on.

  “Please don’t,” she said. “It’s not important anymore.”

  “Isn’t it?” he asked sadly.

  “You want to help me?” she said angrily.

  “Yes, with all my being.”

  “Then leave it alone.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Nothing good will come of it.”

  “Don’t you think I deserve to know the truth?”

  “It’s in the past, Charles. Can you not just leave it there?”

  “Does your honor mean nothing to you?”

  “My honor?” she said. “What is it you intend to do, Charles, challenge the man to a duel?”

  “I don’t know yet.” He recalled Constable Marsh questioning her, and her cool response. He remembered his mother’s anger, and the strange looks that passed between her and Georgiana.

  “He’s already dead, isn’t he?”

  She remained silent.

  “He was right, wasn’t he?” he said slowly.

  “Who?”

  “Constable Marsh,” he said. “He paid me a visit last week.”

  “Did he?”

  “He was angry and adamant that you had killed Father.”

  “That’s impossible,” she said.

  “Is it?” he said, raising his voice. He hated her at that moment. He was trying to keep her safe because he loved her, and she continued to make him feel small with her refusal to think him strong enough to know the truth.

  “How can you accuse me of such a thing?” she asked.

  “Because I think it’s true. I don’t know how, but I can guess at why.”

  “I won’t stay here another minute listening to this,” she said angrily. “Help me to my horse.”

  “Somehow, I don’t think you need my help,” he said and he turned away from her and took the path back to the house.