The Midnight Hour: All-Hallows’ Brides
Page 73
She frowned and looked away. “Leave those memories in the past, James. I am here with you now.”
No. He had a right to know. “Did someone…”
“I was confined to a small bedchamber for months, food withheld if I did not do what my father demanded of me, even beaten occasionally with a switch. Nothing not worth enduring for a chance to be reunited with you.”
Rage filled his heart and mind, then quickly surrendered to animal-need and love. James could not contain it, not for the span of another breath. He lifted her from the chair, hands possessively gripping her shoulders, then her hips, tugging her to his body, his mouth craving her taste, her lips, her tongue moving against his.
There was brief moment of silence as they stared into each other’s eyes, the mutual longing and attraction no longer controllable or deniable. He whispered her name as he slanted his mouth over hers, swallowing her tiny cry of happiness, claiming her for the second time in his life.
Chapter Five
Reason returned to James, and he quickly separated himself from his temptress, though his lips burned with desire. He wanted more of her, much more. But the injustice that had been done to him, whether the fault of her father or herself, continued to plague him, to give him great pause—something about her sudden appearance did not sit right. He glared at her then, wondering if he could trust himself at all.
“James,” she said, “it is cold, please close the doors.”
He looked to the French doors, snow swirling in the howling wind outside. The cold was the only thing that anchored him to the reality that continued to slip away with every moment he spent in her presence. As he approached the balcony, he wondered why she had not used the front door to visit him? Anyone else would have, but not his Raven.
“How is it you came to the balcony tonight?” he asked as he secured the doors.
“Do you not know?”
“I cannot say I do.”
“To avoid scandal,” she said.
“Scandal?” he scoffed, displeased with her answer. “Are we not still legally bound, engaged?”
“Yes.” She tugged at the ribbon about her neck again. “Unless I am mistaken, my father never formally broke our betrothal.”
“No. He did not.” Tears seemed to well in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall as he continued to watch her closely, weighing her words and motivation. “What scandal in reuniting with your finance in public then, by way of my front door? If I were in your position, lady, I would wish the whole world to know of my triumphant return.”
“In the middle of the night?”
“At any hour.”
“Then we differ greatly in that respect, my lord. For I did not know what to expect when the carriage rolled to a stop in your driveway. And fear subdued my joy. What if you had married and were now a father? I could not risk humiliating myself or your family.”
Her explanation was reasonable enough. “How did you know I’d be in my library?”
“What other place would you be? Is this not your favorite room in the house?”
“Yes.”
“So, I remembered correctly.” She gave him a small smile.
“Did you not fear slipping on the narrow stairs that give access to my balcony in your heeled boots?”
She lifted the hem of her gown and stared at her costly leather boots. “A fool’s errand would not have kept me away from those doors.” She gestured at the glass. “I saw light from below and knew you must be within these hallowed walls. I prayed you were, James. I prayed for many things as the night of our reunion drew near.”
James could not, would not, give in to her honeyed words. He shook his head and paced across the room, then back. “Why did your father withhold you from me? It is no secret he disliked me for receiving the winning bids on several properties about London, but…”
“James, he wished me for another.”
“Who precisely?”
“Anyone but you.”
His heart began to thunder—anger cresting inside him again. How could any man wish misery upon his only child? “Did you miss me, my dear?”
“Oh, James.” She ran across the room to him, but he held her at arm’s length, still suspicious of her.
“You are not real.”
Her mouth opened, then closed.
“I am dreaming. Dreading another moment without you.”
“No,” she said, wriggling free of his hold and resting her palms on his arms. “You are wide awake and seeing me for the first time in five years. You are not going mad, James, but only shocked by my return.”
He repeated those words inside his mind. I am not mad. I am not mad.
“What town in Greece?” he asked suddenly.
“Oia,” she said. “A village on the island of Santorini.”
He rubbed his stubbled chin, aware of the beauty of the place. So remote, so distant… A perfect location to hold her captive. “And who saw to your daily needs?”
“Sophia and her sons.”
“Where are they now?”
“I know not. For the old woman took ill before I left, and her sons took her away, leaving me to fend for myself.”
“When did your father’s letter arrive?”
“A month ago.” She went to the reading table and opened her reticule and withdrew an envelope. “Read it for yourself.”
He took the missive and read it over several times. Her father’s official seal was on the envelope, and James recognized his signature. It seemed she was telling the truth. But that truth burned a hole in his soul. Why hadn’t she fought harder to get away, to get word to him? Of course, why hadn’t he fought harder to find her?
He fisted his hand, crumpling the paper. “Damn your father.” Then he walked to the hearth and threw the letter in the flames. He watched the outer edges burn slowly at first, then ignite, turned to ash.
Several tears rolled down her cheeks. “I have cursed him enough for both of us. There is no need to condemn him, he is dying.”
“Yes.” James wanted him dead. He wanted the old, bitter man to suffer a slow, excruciating death. “Will you go to him?”
She pressed her lips together, seeming hesitant to answer. “Would you not go to your dying parent regardless of their past sins? If not for their good, for your own? I refuse to be cruel.”
She had given a proper answer, the right answer. The only one his Raven would be able to give. His admiration for her had never waned. She was as beautiful and honest as ever.
“James.”
She broke his concentration, and he turned to gaze at her.
“Please, forgive me for everything that has happened. If I could go back and change it, I would.” Her lips quivered, and she dropped to her knees, tears streaming down her face. “I expect nothing from you, but beg your acknowledgement that this was not some ploy to hurt you—that I am a victim of my father’s unscrupulous need to control me and everything else in his life. Tis why my mother died so young, she could not abide his wicked nature, his jealousy, and withered heart.”
Her beauty could illuminate the darkest place, including the recesses of his cold heart. How could he deny her request, her selfless nature? It had taken unusual courage to show up here by herself, risking her reputation and pride to deliver the truth to him, to offer her love a last time…
Unable to resist her innocence and vulnerability, James sank to his knees in front of her, wrapping his protective arms about her, cradling her against his body, soothing her with whispered words of encouragement. I love you. You will always be mine. None could replace you. Feeling you in my arms again…
He removed the pins from her thick hair, and it tumbled down her back in waves, black as night and so lovely. He buried his face in it, breathing in her essence, loving her more in that moment than ever before. How could he have misjudged her so cruelly, so selfishly. He had been looking for someone to blame his suffering on. You are a coward, he berated himself. Grotesque on the inside. Undeserving of h
er.
And then, a scraping sound upon the glass of the French doors made them both sit up and stare together in their direction.
“What the devil?” James asked in utter shock.
“Is that…” Raven looked up at him, unable to finish her thought.
Chapter Six
The chamber grew colder in the moment James beheld the outline of a dark creature staring through the glass on his French doors. Though its identity remained unknown to him from such a distance, he was compelled by his protective nature to see exactly what threatened their safety. His lady, fearful and pleading him to stay beside her, squeezed his hand and tried to pull him back.
“Please, James. Do not go. Leave to the darkness what belongs to the night. In here, light and love has lifted our spirits to a place we have never known together.”
Yes. His faith had been restored, love seeping into the shadowed crevices of his frozen heart. All the more reason to defend his lady, his home, his own life. Darkness was an unwelcome guest, and any creature that crawled about in the night and sought entry to his sanctuary was unwelcome.
“Stay here,” he gently commanded, rising to his feet, still cradling her hand in his.
“But…”
He let go of her fingers and raised his hand to silence her. “Tis better to know than not.” He edged closer to the doors, wary and anxious.
“James!”
“Do not be afraid,” he tried to reassure her, squinting to see through the frosted glass.
Something scraped against the pane with more force, insistent.
His gut knotted as he reached for the latch, instinct telling him to retreat, to ignore the noise. But alas, on this night of all nights, having found his heart again, James would not be denied.
The door screeched open, and snow blasted inside. The wind whistled, and suddenly, the chamber went dark and still. A frightening silence followed, and James whirled around, searching for her, feeling as if a part of him had withered and died. He could not see her, could not see anything. There were no embers in the hearth, just inky blackness. Not even the sound of his own breathing filled the stillness.
Was he even alive? Breathing?
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
He faced the open doors again, and something screeched menacingly.
James crossed the threshold to the outside. And there, wings outstretched, black eyes focused on him, talons gripping the railing of his balcony, the great raven cawed again and again, unrelenting and with a purpose James could not guess.
A raven.
A bad omen.
A curse.
A premonition.
One so convincing and frightening, James rushed back inside and searched for her. But no one was within. His Lady Raven had fled or disappeared. Panicked, James hurriedly lit a candle and held it high, searching every corner of the chamber frantically to find her, any evidence that she had ever truly been there with him.
Then, unsure where else to search, he turned his ferocity on the bird known as the messenger of ill fate. “What have you done with her?” he screamed at the feathered demon.
The bird did nothing, only stared at him in silence.
“Damn you. Damn this life. Damn everything for every moment I have been forced to live without her.” He struck out at the beast with the candle, narrowly missing it as it flapped its wings and flew away—its haunting call piercing his soul.
A sharp pain in his chest overpowered James, and he collapsed halfway inside, dropping the candle, the flame extinguished. He tried to find the strength to crawl back inside, to summon a servant or his sister. But his body refused to move, and his voice had no power.
“Raven,” he managed to croak. “Raven.”
He closed his eyes, struggling to breathe. If he let the cold take him, to put him to sleep, there would be no more pain, no more loneliness. He had been so sure she was real. That they had found each other again—that fate had given him a second chance. But it had all been a demented fantasy of his making. The circumstances of his mental decline over the years connected to this night, to this date, had finally broken his spirit. And now, he was sure he would die.
His only regret, that his brother and sister would find him.
He held out his hand to a nonexistent being, willing her back. “Take my hand, dear Raven. Take me with you.”
Nothing stirred in the shadows. No one answered him. Nothing offered comfort.
There was James and the darkness. And then there was nothing as he succumbed to the cold.
Chapter Seven
“James, open the door!” Valerie pleaded. She hated to impose on his privacy, but one of the servants passing by outside had noticed the open doors to his study. She had urgent news to share with James, so vitally important, she would break the sacred rule and have the housekeeper use her key to unlock the door.
“Well my lady?” the servant asked, her voice cracking with emotion.
“Yes. Please open it for me.”
The woman nodded as Val stepped aside and gave her access to the lock. Val repeated her silent prayer inside her head, hoping with all her heart…
The housekeeper opened the door, and Val peered inside. The chill reached her before she even entered the room, freezing cold, the kind that could kill someone. And the unforgiving darkness… The fire had gone out, and the windows were all covered by the thick drapes. Yet, sunshine spilled into the space from the open French doors, enough for her to find her brother seated in the most unnatural way on his favorite chair. She rushed to the doors and slammed them shut, shivering more out of fear than from the cold.
“Mary,” she said to the housekeeper, “light the fire and lamps. Open the drapes immediately. We need light and warmth. This chamber is as cold as a mausoleum.”
As the servant did as she was asked, and light flooded the study, Val understood that her fears were justified. For her brother’s form was pale and lifeless. She rushed to his side and knelt beside him, tears streaming down her face.
“It is my fault, dearest,” she cried. “I should never have left you alone last night.”
She placed her hand over his heart, hoping to find the faintest beat. Nothing. Life had fled his body; she knew it.
“Mary…” She looked up at the housekeeper. “I-I… Our master has gone, I fear.”
The housekeeper covered her mouth with her hand. “It cannot be.”
Valerie caressed her brother’s cheek, her fingers finding cool skin. Yes. He must be dead. Yet the truth had not truly sunk in, for her faith and hope would not be so easily crushed. Then she noticed the empty wine and whisky bottles at his feet and a piece of paper gripped in his hand. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the parchment and struggled to tear it away from him. Finally, she managed to take it. One word had been inelegantly scrawled upon it, and she did not want to say it aloud, but did.
“Nevermore.”
“What does it mean?” Mary asked, horrified.
“I know not.”
“James,” Valerie whispered. “If only you had waited for me to come to you. I bring joyous news.” She reached for his hair, smoothing his wild curls away from his face. “Lady Raven is waiting for you in the drawing room…” She could not contain her sorrow any longer. As tears blinded her and she sobbed at her beloved brother’s loss, he suddenly shot up from the chair, causing her to scream in fright and shrink away.
His eyes were shadowed and bloodshot, but he stared at her in disbelief. “What did you just say to me, Valerie?” He went to her, staring down at her, offering his hand to help her rise to her feet.
“James. I thought you were…”
“Dead?”
She nodded and let him lift her from the floor, trembling all over.
“I died in my dreams last night,” he said somberly. “And I do not deserve to awaken to a new day, for I have given up on life these past five years, on you and our brother especially.”
“Oh, James.”
She threw her arms around him.
“Tell me, Valerie. What words did you speak to awaken me from my deep sleep?” He set her away from him and stared deeply into her eyes.
“Lady Raven.”
He nodded, a look of sorrow on his face. “She is lost to me forever. I must let her go.”
“N-no, James. She has returned.”
“What?” He gave her a shake. “Do not toy with me, Valerie.”
“Never,” she said. “Only moments ago, she rapped upon the front door and begged me to get you. That is why…”
“By everything holy!” He kissed her forehead and cheeks. “I love you, Val, with all my heart, as broken as it is.”
And then, as spirited as a lad, he ran from the room, down the stairs, and called to his lady love. Still in tears, Valerie followed him to the drawing room. And there, standing in the doorway, she found them both breathless and weeping with joy, locked in an eternal embrace of love and forgiveness—the sorrow that had long plagued their home, nevermore.
Additional Dragonblade books by Author Violetta Rand
Highlands Forever Series
Unbreakable
Undeniable
Unyielding
Viking’s Fury Series
Love’s Fury
Desire’s Fury
Passion’s Fury
Also from Violetta Rand
Viking Hearts