by Sara Orwig
“Yes, Mr. Brougher,” Henry Rathborne answered, thinking the man was as eccentric as he was rich. Little did that matter as long as he paid his bills. And judging from the fine cut of his clothes, Mr. Brougher could well afford all that he asked.
Josh stood up to go, glancing at the wide arched window. “Dark is setting in. We’ve been long at this. Sorry if you’re late to dine.”
“No. I have dinner much later, and I’m excited over this opportunity. I hope the new Raven House is all we both want.”
“Fine. When will you visit the site?”
“Ten in the morning.”
“I’ll ride with you and we can go over everything again.”
“Good.”
Josh bade him farewell and left, stepping out into an evening grown dark with fog. Mist rose from the river and swirled over the streets, leaving a dampness on the skin, blurring the outlines of buildings. With the horse’s hooves ringing on the cobblestones, Josh rode down a darkened lane to his London house, where he ate alone. Food had lost its appeal and the hours when he was alone were torment. He ran his hand across the small scar on his temple. It was a miracle that he and Fletcher had survived the shipwreck. He hadn’t come this far to lose Lianna now. And a son! He hoped the boy had blue eyes and black hair. If only the annulment could be held up for a while…
At midnight he lay in bed unable to sleep, staring into the darkness, when he heard a steady knocking downstairs at the door.
It couldn’t be Fletcher, who had a key. Fletcher was out wenching and drinking. A cold sweat broke out as Josh remembered his instructions to his solicitor to wake him at any hour of the night if he heard the annulment had been granted.
Hastily Josh tossed back the covers, snatched up his breeches.
As another series of taps sounded, he opened the door. A hooded man stood in the darkness. Instantly all of Josh’s caution flared to life, and he doubled his fist.
“What is it?”
“A message,” a hoarse voice said. “Mrs. Raven wants to meet you. Come in an hour to the Brass Bell Tavern.”
“Aye, I’ll be there. Tell her—”
A hand waved. “She’ll meet you.” The messenger slipped into the foggy night and vanished.
His heart pounded and he raced up the stairs, then paused, his eyes narrowing. Could it be a trick? He remembered the two men who had followed him. But he had to go. If Lianna was there and he didn’t go…
Setting his jaw, he dressed rapidly, all in black, placing a knife in his boot, tucking a loaded pistol in his belt. His hands shook in his eagerness. Lianna, Lianna…how badly he wanted her. He took the stairs two at a time in jubilant strides. Lianna!
He rode to the Brass Bell Tavern, which was near the docks on the Thames. With a cloying dampness, the gray fog swirled and enveloped him, while on the river a ship’s horn gave a forlorn blast. In spite of the weather and the hour, nothing could dampen Josh’s spirits. He listened carefully, trying to be sure he wasn’t being followed. At the tavern, lights glowed in yellow shafts through the window. He dismounted and tethered his horse, then entered.
A fire roared in the grate and three men sat at a table nearby. The tavernkeeper, a man with a full, bushy red beard, looked up as Josh entered.
Cautiously Josh went to a table and called to the tavernkeeper for mulled rum. Facing the door, Josh sat with his back to a wall and wished once more that Fletcher had been home. His spirits began to plummet. He couldn’t imagine Lianna in such a place. It wouldn’t be safe for her unless she brought servants and waited in her carriage. And if it was a trick, he was alone.
Pulling his hat lower, he cast surreptitious glances at the men. One had the hilt of a dagger protruding from the top of his boot; another’s coarse woolen coat bulged as if the butt of a pistol were tucked into the waistband beneath it. With dark eyes, one looked impassively at him, then away. Josh set his jaw grimly. It might be a trap—set to waylay him on his route home. He sipped the rum and waited, his patience growing shorter, disappointment swamping him. Again he had to curb the urge to fling himself on his horse and pound to Lianna’s house, demanding to see her.
The door opened and a small wiry man stepped inside. His dark eyes came to rest on Josh; then he strolled to Josh’s table.
“’Evenin’, sir.”
“It’s a damp night.”
The man leaned across the table. “Josh Raven?”
“Aye.”
“Hinton here. The lady waits in her carriage. Follow me.”
Josh stood up, tossed coins on the table, and followed the man out the door. Every muscle tensed, and he peered into the empty foggy street. He whipped out his pistol and jabbed it against Hinton’s back.
“Mate! I’m a messenger for the lady. Damn, get that out of my ribs!”
“As soon as I see the lady, I will.”
“Mr. Raven, I can’t—”
Josh prodded harder. “Take me to her.”
“This way,” Hinton said.
They turned the corner down a narrow alley beside the tavern. As they wound along narrow, fog-shrouded streets, Josh’s anger and impatience rose. They turned another corner. Suddenly, from behind, there was a footstep. Josh started to turn, but something cracked against his head with a blinding pain, almost buckling his knees.
Hinton spun around, snatching at the pistol. Josh pulled the trigger. Along with the blast from the pistol, a cry shattered the night, and Hinton crumpled in the street.
As he fell, two burly men jumped on Josh from behind, smashing him down on the slimy cobbles.
Fists pummeled him, a booted foot kicked his ribs, and pain exploded in his side. He grabbed a foot and pulled, sending an attacker crashing, but another slammed his foot down on Josh’s wrist and ground his heel.
Josh’s blood ran cold as he heard one of the men say, “Cut him. Get his ear.”
He rolled, flinging off the man, coming to his feet. One jumped him from behind while the other struck a staggering blow on the side of his head with a club.
He went down again, fighting his attackers. Something slashed down his face, and white-hot pain followed. Dimly he heard hoarse yells, running feet. Hands slipped away, and he fell forward on his face, lying in a pool that was warm and wet. Feet pounded the cobblestones and faded, then grew louder again. Voices came and receded in waves. A man said, “Two dead!”
“This one has a hole in his middle the size of my fist.”
“Go through his pockets. Poor bloke’s dead now. We’ll toss him in the river.”
“Lud! This one’s alive! He’s cut to pieces, bleedin’ like a headless chicken.” Hands turned Josh. He wanted to open his eyes, but the effort was too great.
“Let’s get him home to Mandy. She’ll take care of him. Look at the size of those shoulders—like a pugilist’s.”
“Let’s leave him. He’s probably a thief. Dressed all in black.”
“Look here at this watch. It’s worth a fortune.”
“Probably stolen.”
“We’ll take him home.”
“I say leave him.”
While they argued, Josh struggled to tell them where to take him, but no sound would come. Pain racked him and he hurt in a dozen different places.
“Someone may come back and finish the job.”
“Lookee here at the blunt. Dead bloke has a guinea.”
“Let’s haul him to the river, then we’ll come back for this one.”
Footsteps scuffled, faded. Josh was conscious of hands lifting him roughly. Pain tore at him, worse than before, enveloping him in blackness as he lost consciousness.
Two days later, Edwin Stafford was summoned to his solicitor’s office because an annulment had been granted dissolving the marriage of Lianna Melton to Joshua Raven.
Lianna stood at the window watching Edwin come up the steps to the front door. Sunlight glinted on his pale golden hair, heightening the contrast between his champagne-colored coat and trousers and his dark, burnished skin.
&
nbsp; Her grasp tightened around the baby in her arms. Phillip’s wide green eyes were the same as his father’s. Her throat burned, and she wondered if she would love Josh Raven forever.
Reluctantly she handed Phillip to Betsy. “Captain Stafford is here. I just saw him come up the walk.”
“Good. You don’t see enough people. You should renew your acquaintances with your friends.”
“Betsy, you’re a love! In another week I’m going to my first party since Phillip’s birth. And then my dearest childhood friend and her husband are returning to London from Paris. Melissa will have me in a social whirl that will make you scold me to stay home.”
“I don’t believe it. You’ve seen no one, save this baby, the servants, the duke, and Captain Stafford.”
“Betsy, look at Phillip’s long lashes. He smiles even in his sleep.”
“He’s a beautiful baby, Mrs. Raven. And his mother is too pretty to waste away in this house.”
“Thank you, Betsy,” Lianna said laughingly.
She went down to join Edwin in the library. He turned to greet her, kissing her cheek, then holding her at arm’s length to look at her.
“How beautiful you look in blue!”
“Thank you, Edwin. Phillip’s still awake. Would you like a peek at him?”
“This time, I shall have to decline the offer. I’ll look at his mother instead.”
“My, you sound excited,” she said, hiding her disappointment that Edwin wasn’t more interested in Phillip. “Did you sell more of your ship’s cargo for a glorious sum?”
Edwin slipped an arm around her waist and drew her to him. Instinctively Lianna placed her hands against his chest to prevent his drawing her too close.
His voice became husky. “The annulment has been granted.”
She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath, feeling a sharp pain cut into her as one of the last ties to Josh was severed.
“Lianna, marry me.” Edwin’s mouth came down upon hers, and she tried to respond to his urgent kiss. She finally broke away.
“Edwin, I can’t help the way I feel. Give me time—”
“No, it would be a mistake. You have to pick up your life and go on. Marry me within the week, Lianna. Give Phillip a father.”
“This week? Edwin, I can’t!”
“Yes, you can.”
“It’s too soon. I don’t—”
“How much pain will you let Josh Raven inflict on you? When you were delirious at sea, you told me about his cold-blooded killing of the Marchenos. He has denied his son and you.” His voice changed and became flat. “I need you, Lianna. I love you. I made a mistake by not running away with you long ago, but I was young and ignorant and too poor.”
“My father would have hunted us down and sent you to prison.”
“I want you to marry me.”
She gazed into Edwin’s dark gray eyes and felt something wither. She owed it to Edwin to marry him, but she didn’t love him. Agitated by his proposal, she moved away. “Give me a month.”
“No. I’ve waited, I’ve fought battles, I’ve sailed around the world for you. Lianna, don’t deny me. I’ll be a good father to Phillip.”
A week! She clenched her fists. She didn’t love Edwin and she wondered if she ever could. His hands dropped on her shoulders and he stood behind her, his breath fanning lightly over her neck, and she felt nothing except regret and kindness, no wild tingles, no fiery clamoring to turn into his arms.
“Lianna, marry me. Phillip needs me. I’ll take care of you.”
“Edwin, you should wed someone who loves you deeply.”
“No! Shh…I’ve always wanted you. How I love you, Lianna!” He kissed her neck and whispered, “Marry me—I promise I won’t rush you. I’ll wait until you come to my bed.”
She turned around. “Edwin, let’s wait and not rush—”
“Shh, I want you. Only you. Marry me in a week.”
“I just can’t.” She felt trapped, yet what he said was true. He had been so good to her. Phillip needed a father. Josh Raven hadn’t wanted to see her or his son when he had been in London after Phillip’s birth. She raised her face. “Three weeks from today.”
Exultation flared in his eyes so brightly that she felt guilty. “Oh, Edwin, I’m not sure we’re doing the right thing.”
“Of course we are! Three weeks. I will post the announcement.”
He crushed her to him and kissed her with fiery passion and she returned it, but it took an effort. When he left, she went to the window to watch him walk away, but tears made everything blur.
Fletcher Chance crept up the stairs and fell across the bed. He turned to gaze at the spinning ceiling. Where the hell had Josh gone? All week his architect had been looking for him. The solicitor wanted him to sign more papers about his inheritance. A bookkeeper had come to apply for work.
Fletcher heard pounding on the door downstairs. With a groan he heaved himself to his feet and went to answer, wondering who would call at such an early hour in the morning. He opened the door to face a stranger.
“Mr. Brougher?”
“He’s not in.”
“I have an urgent message for him from Mr. Markham.”
“His solicitor?” Fletcher sobered slightly. “I can’t find him. Mr. Markham sent word yesterday about the papers he needs to sign.”
“This is another matter. Is a Mr. Chance here?”
“I’m Fletcher Chance.”
“I’m to inform Mr. Raven or you that the annulment has been granted.”
As Fletcher swore, the man’s brows arched, and he stepped back. “That’s all, sir.”
“Here.” Fletcher handed him some coins and closed the door. He was sobering quickly now. Something had happened to Josh. He remembered the two burly men who had been following him.
Fletcher ran upstairs, ignoring his pounding head as he reached for his shirt. Something terrible must have happened to Josh to keep him from home. And now the marriage was dissolved. Lianna Melton Raven was free to marry again.
Several days later Fletcher stood on the wharf impatiently watching sailors come and go until he spotted one that he knew.
“Lyon Murdock!”
A thick-set man with a barrel chest and a full black beard turned. His face split in a grin and he reached Fletcher quickly to pump his hand.
“Damn, haven’t seen you, Chance, for years! A pup you were.”
“Murdock, you old sea dog! How’s it go? Did you just get in?”
“A week ago. We sail again in a fortnight.”
“Want to earn a golden guinea for a few hours’ work?”
“Aye, anytime. You’ve struck fortune?”
“It’s my captain’s. Josh Raven of El Feroz.”
“Rumor had it that it sank in a storm.”
“It did, but a few of us survived. He’s missing, Murdock. I want London combed for him. I have to find him. Will you help for a day?”
“For you and Captain Raven—he’s a good man—I’ll give you two days. No nights!” He laughed.
“I’ll be here this time each day to pay. If you find him or any whisper about him, tell the tavernkeeper at the Brass Bell. That’s the last place he was seen.”
“Aye, that I will.”
Fletcher watched the man stride away and frowned. He’d combed the taverns and finally learned that a man who fitted Josh’s description had waited in the Brass Bell, then left with another man. Josh Raven seemed to have vanished off the face of the earth. And a murdered man had turned up, a small thin man shot through the middle, not far from the Brass Bell the night Josh had disappeared.
Impatiently Fletcher shifted his weight, clamping his jaws together. The marriage announcement of Lianna and Edwin had been posted. They were to wed within two weeks.
He had to admit he hoped Josh could win Lianna back. He’d grown to like and admire her, and he knew how much Josh loved her. Something he would have deemed impossible before the journey to Chile. Thoughts of Lianna had been what drove Jo
sh to fight for survival after their terrible wreck at sea.
And now the son—Josh would be the best of fathers. If he had the chance. He would be crazed if he found he had come so close, only to have her wed Edwin Stafford now. Damn—what could have happened to Josh?
Fletcher swung around and hurried up the lane to the Brass Bell again. He waited until he could talk to the tavernkeeper, Ned. The man polished a glass as he came to stand across the bar.
“Any word about him?” Fletcher asked.
“No. But there have been two in here asking questions.”
“What kind of questions?”
Ned shrugged, his bushy brows arching. “His description. Had I heard of him or seen him or had anyone asking about him.”
“What did you tell them?” Fletcher asked grimly.
“You paid me dearly. I said no I hadn’t seen the man, didn’t remember him, and hadn’t had a question about him.”
“Good!” Fletcher reached beneath his cloak, produced a pigskin pouch, and withdrew several guineas. Ned’s brown eyes glittered and his hand quickly covered the coins Fletcher placed on the bar.
“What did the men look like?”
“Sailors, stevedores—big and brawny. But they’d been in a bit of a fight. Banged up and bruised, they were.”
“Then he must have escaped, else they wouldn’t be searching for him. I have to find him before they do.” Fletcher let out his breath. “I’ll be back.” He stopped outside the tavern, looking up and down the street. Where was Josh Raven?
Josh moved and groaned. He ached from head to toe. He had to get away from Chile, back to Lianna. He tried to call her name as he saw her look at him with laughing blue eyes.
“Now, lie still, dearie.”
Cool hands touched his face and he felt something wet on his brow. His eyes flickered open and everything spun; then a face appeared over him.
“Lianna!”
“No, dearie. My name’s Mandy. Don’t talk. Lie still. You’ve been hurt.”
He had to get to Lianna. To get home to England. He tried to rise, but he couldn’t raise his head from the pillow.
“Lianna…” he gasped.
“We’ll try a little broth soon. Lie back and close your eyes.”
