by Wendy Vella
“You cannot be serious? It is the only thing I will be able to think about for days to come, Miss Sinclair.”
“I believe I am.”
“I do not like to be beholden to people, and most especially because of something that happened hundreds of years ago, Miss Sinclair.”
“Perhaps you could endeavor to stay out of danger then, Duke. It would certainly make both our lives easier,” she said, still smiling.
“I don’t believe it is a laughing matter, Miss Sinclair.”
“You will forgive my sister, Raven,” her brother said. “We Sinclairs tend to find humor in situations that others do not.”
James had one six-year-old sister, and they did not tease or laugh with each other; in fact, they were barely acquainted, so the Sinclair siblings’ obvious closeness was entirely out of his realm of understanding.
“We are not so rare, Dev.” Eden Sinclair smiled up at her brother. “I’m sure the Duke knows how to laugh.”
“No, I don’t,” James said before he could stop himself, and instantly felt like a fool. He fell back on what he did best: being a duke. “Furthermore, I have no time to lie here bandying words. My sister will wonder at my absence,” he lied. In fact, his sister wished him to Hades.
“Are we bandying?” Eden looked from James up to her brother.
“We were, however, now we are about to explain to the Duke why he cannot leave alone, unprotected, in his current condition.”
“Is he all right?”
James looked to the door once more.
“And here are two more Sinclairs for you to become acquainted with, Raven. Both, I’m afraid, are given to bandying words and sudden bouts of unexplainable laughter also. With your permission, as there are many of us and we rarely stand on ceremony, I shall introduce you to them using their Christian names.”
It was informal, but as he was lying on a bed in their house and couldn’t bow or do more than nod, James agreed and reluctantly added, “My name is James.” Who was he to stand on ceremony when he couldn’t even stand?
“Cambridge and Essex,” Sinclair said, pointing to the man and woman as they reached the bed. James sensed some tension between these two. “I am Devonshire, or rather Devon, and the three youngest Sinclairs are at present sleeping,” he added.
“There are seven of you?” James said, bemused as his eyes moved over the siblings.
“Yes.” Devon sighed.
“You’re each named after a town or county?” James studied each Sinclair. He noted they all had black hair. However, Eden was the only one with gray eyes. The others shared the eldest Sinclair’s green eyes.
“Yes, my parents liked to travel and wherever we were... um, conceived... we were named after that place.”
James noted Devon wince as Cambridge spoke.
“So where did Eden come from?” he questioned, looking at her.
“Eden was the only one of us conceived here at Oak’s Knoll, Duke,” Essex said. “My mother always called her home the Garden of Eden, hence my sister’s name.”
“The Duke wishes to return home tonight,” Eden said, no longer smiling. The conversation was obviously uncomfortable for her.
“I would not recommend that course of action, considering someone has just tried to dispatch you to the afterlife, Duke,” Cambridge Sinclair said. “Your strength will be weakened by tonight’s events. I suggest you stay here for a few days. Whoever tried to end your life believes they succeeded, so we do not want to alert them otherwise.”
“And yet my sister will wake at 7:00 a.m. and I will be there,” James said, his voice steady.
“‘Tis folly, Duke. You are still injured and in such a weakened state you cannot hope to defend yourself,” Eden added.
“I do not believe whoever attempted to kill me this evening will do so again the following day, Eden. And please call me James.” For some reason, he wanted to hear his name on her lips.
“But—”
“Leave it, Eden, the Duke must be allowed to do as he pleases,” Devon said. “However, if I may suggest that you leave early before the sun rises, then no one will see you. I would also ask you to stay out of danger until our return, Raven. There will not be a Sinclair on hand should you require one.”
“You are leaving?” James said, ignoring the attempt at humor. His gaze lingered on Eden. There was something about the woman that drew his eyes, and he felt it was more than just her beauty.
“We are going to London for the season, Duke,” Essex said.
By the downcast looks on the faces of the siblings, James guessed this was not something any of them were looking forward to.
“Is there a problem with my name?”
“Problem, Duke?” Cambridge Sinclair said.
“I have asked you to use it, yet you are not.”
Silence greeted these words as the siblings looked at each other then back to him. Devon was silently allocated speaker.
“My mother told us your father was most insistent that he be addressed only by his title.”
James battled anger at the reference to his sire.
“I am not my father.”
“But you are a duke, and a powerful one,” Essex said.
“That has no bearing on you using my name.” James wasn’t sure why he was pursuing this matter when normally he liked the distance his title afforded him.
“It has when the closest we have come to such a lofty title is Dev.”
The siblings laughed over Essex Sinclair’s words.
“Where will you reside in London?” James asked, wondering why he cared.
“Our mother’s sister is the Countess of Wynburg, James,” Cambridge Sinclair said. “She wishes to sponsor Essex and Eden this season, but has expressed her wish that we all come to London to see her.”
James may not have spent much time at Raven Castle, but he had made it his business, since returning, to find out every thing he could about the people and events that took place around his estate. His butler, who had been with the family since he was born, was a font of information.
He knew the Sinclairs lived in genteel poverty, and that the previous Baron Sinclair was not a well-liked man in the village. James was unsure how their circumstances now sat; he doubted the current Lord Sinclair was a spendthrift, yet did not know him well enough to know if that was fact.
“I’d like to offer you some compensation for your part in saving my life—twice,” James said, although the words stuck in his throat. He didn’t care if this… whatever the arrangement between their families was called, was indeed true, he would not be beholden to anyone. Therefore, he would do what needed to be done in his eyes to clear this debt.
“We do not need your money,” Cambridge said.
“I would be honored to offer you my coach for the journey then—”
“Thank you for the offer, Raven, it is most generous, yet we are quite capable of getting ourselves to London,” Devonshire Sinclair cut him off.
Pride was something James understood as he had his share; the eldest Sinclair, he noted, appeared no different.
“I too am making for London, Sinclair, and wished only for some company for my young sister, as I will be riding,” James said, surprised that the words had come from his mouth. He had not intended to leave for London until next month and had definitely not planned to take Samantha with him. However, perhaps after tonight’s events he and Samantha would be safer away from here.
“Oh that will be lovely for the twins, don’t you think, Dev?” Eden rushed to say.
They were interesting to watch, these Sinclairs, the undertones and glances they gave each other. Almost as if they spoke another language, James thought as the eldest Sinclair glared at Eden.
“Twins?”
“Dorset and Somerset, our sisters, James,” Essex Sinclair said.
James suddenly wanted his sister to be in the company of the Sinclairs as they journeyed to London. She was such a shy little girl, who rarely met anyone her own age
, and with the Sinclairs she would be safe. They would make sure of it.
“I would be grateful for your protection, Sinclair. Not for myself, but for Samantha.”
The siblings all looked at Devon, who in turn looked resigned.
“My sisters would be grateful for the company, Raven. I am sure you will also need a carriage, as your ribs will still be too painful to ride.”
“I have two carriages; both will be here by midday two days from now,” James snapped, his pride stinging somewhat. “I, however, will be riding.”
“Of course, if that is your wish.”
“It is.”
“If I may suggest that we depart before the sun rises in the morning, Raven, so no one sees you leave. I would caution you to stay hidden in the castle until we leave the village and surrounding area, so those intent on killing you do not realize you are alive,” Devon added. “Now we will all get some sleep and then Cam and I will rise by five, in time to have you home by seven.”
James did not like anyone telling him what to do but saw that in this Sinclair was probably right. He also knew when he was outnumbered. He had no horse or carriage, and his ribs pulled viciously every time he so much as breathed. He would not make it home alone. It chafed to be at the mercy of another.
He drank from the cup filled with horrid-tasting liquid that Essex Sinclair forced on him. Eden then removed his pillows and lowered him to the bed.
“Sleep well, James, and know that you are safe,” she said quietly as the other Sinclairs filed from the room.
“And you, Eden.” James touched her hand simply because he needed to. “Thank you once again for what you did, although a mere thank-you seems inadequate.”
“It will suffice.” She smiled, and then she was gone. Closing his eyes, James let the exhaustion he had been battling finally take hold.
...
“This is really not necessary, Sinclair!”
Ignoring him, Devon and Cam rode with him wedged between them the following morning as they escorted James home. The hour was early, and the darkness was only just beginning to lift and awaken the new day.
“And I had thought my stubbornness unequaled,” James muttered as he glared at the stern profiles of the two men flanking him.
He had slept deeply and now enjoyed the crisp bite in the morning air as it cleared his head. Above him, his home was slowly taking shape through the mists. The journey was not long, yet the climb up Raven Mountain was steep and winding, and his abused body protested several times, forcing a hiss from his lips that was not missed by either Sinclair. As they turned the final bend, James looked at the cliffs and then to the swirling seas below. This had never been his home, and yet something still pulled at him when he was here.
“‘Tis a magnificent sight.”
“Aye, it is,” James acknowledged the younger Sinclair’s words, his own sounding gruff as he dragged his eyes from the water that last night could have signaled his death.
“I still cannot believe your sister saved me in the manner she did, Sinclair.”
“It is something that will haunt me for many years to come, Raven.”
James grunted his acknowledgment.
“You did not tell us how you were abducted, James,” Cam Sinclair said.
James allowed himself to think back to yesterday—Lord, was it only yesterday? “I was riding through the village, had reached the end, and they rode up beside me. I heard nothing, so their horses’ hooves must have been muffled. Before I could fight back, they had pulled me to the ground and forced a cloth over my mouth. I remember nothing more.”
The Sinclairs fell silent, mulling over his words while James returned to studying his castle.
His father had forced him from it many years ago, yet now that he had returned his love for the old building had resurfaced. He could see the crenellations where the armies of his ancestors had stood ready to defend the family. The Raven flag flew high, as it had for generations, fluttering in the gentle morning breeze. The crest was etched in his memory as his father had intended: the maroon color depicting patience yet victory in battle, three heraldic lions denoting bravery, strength, and valor, and lastly, the cross fitchée announcing his ancestors’ unshakeable faith. James often laughed over the last; he had lost faith in his father when he was old enough to realize the man he was. The weak morning light cast the stone walls almost gold as he led the Sinclairs past the gatehouse and into the courtyard.
“Cambridge will stay at your side until you and your sister are ready to leave tomorrow, Raven,” Devon said as they handed their reins to a groom.
“I do not need a bodyguard,” James said as calmly as he could, and then winced as he dismounted, lowering himself gingerly to the floor.
“Just think of him as another set of eyes.” Devon smiled, which annoyed the hell out of James. “He will watch the reactions of the people around you to see if anyone looks guilty enough to have trussed you like a goose and hurled you off a cliff for fish food.”
“Are you mocking me?” James glared at the eldest Sinclair as the men walked into the castle. He wasn’t used to being the brunt of someone’s joke. Dukes were above that sort of thing; most often people wanted to please him but never had they ridiculed him.
“Just ensuring your survival,” Devon added.
“I have servants for that.”
“If you’ll pardon my rudeness, they don’t appear to be very good at it,” Cam said, stopping inside the main entrance. “And we seem to have the history that suggests we are.”
“I’ve never been inside here.” Devon lifted his eyes to the ceilings.
Huge graceful arches of stone swept above them, each pillar anchored by intricately carved pieces of wood. It was imposing, and if you closed your eyes, as James often had as a child, you could almost imagine the knights of old here.
He watched the Sinclairs walk around in circles, taking in the carved staircase and surrounding walls adorned with armor and paintings.
“You’ve never visited here?” he queried.
Devon shook his head. “Your father was not overly fond of the Sinclairs. In fact, had it not been for the....” Shaking his hand around, Devon tried to find the right words.
“Curse,” Cam supplied.
“Pledge,” Devon added, ignoring his brother, “My father always believed he would have dropped boiling oil on top of Oak’s Knoll.”
“I apologize,” James said curtly.
“The fault was not yours, Raven.”
“I believe we have established you are not like your father,” Cambridge added, walking to the wall that held rows of Raven ancestors all glaring down upon them.
James followed with his eyes; there was not one smiling face among them.
“I see where you get your scowl from, James.”
Cambridge Sinclair, he had come to realize, was a man who liked to tease and torment those around him, and did so with extreme accuracy.
“I wonder where that document is?”
“Document?” James looked from Cambridge to Sinclair.
“I was told that there was a document somewhere from King Edward, stating the details of the pact and gift of land that Oak’s Knoll stands on. My father said it contained our supposed creed.”
“Which is?” James raised a brow.
“To honor and protect the Ravens,” Sinclair said. “No one has seen it, however.”
“And you believe it is here?”
“Well, it’s not at Oak’s Knoll because it is not overly large and with seven enquiring minds living there, it would have been unearthed by one of us by now.”
James thought about the many rooms in his castle and decided he would have his staff search. If that document was here, he wanted it found. He wasn’t sure why, or what he would do with it, but he’d decide on that matter when and if it was located.
“I shall leave you then.” Devon Sinclair nodded to James, and then he was gone.
“You won’t even know I am here, James,�
� Cambridge Sinclair said, following him up the stairs.
“Somehow I doubt that,” James drawled as the man gave one of his maids an exaggerated wink as she hurried past.
Chapter Four
Three large carriages arrived at Oak’s Knoll before the sun rose of the day they were due to leave. Dorrie and Essie were beside themselves with excitement at the prospect of a new friend, while Warwick was still moaning about being stuck in a carriage with three girls. The house was a hive of industry, with Dev barking last-minute orders and Josiah and Bertie carrying luggage to the front entrance.
“You will ride with us as often as you wish, Warwick, and when you can bear it no more, you can sit with your sisters and Essie.” Eden held her smile as the youngest Sinclair brother dragged his feet toward the front door.
Eden then called to her little sisters, urging them downstairs so she could take them outside to meet the Duke’s sister. She didn’t want to see him again, because for the first time in her life a man had unsettled her, and Eden was not pleased it was the somber-faced Duke of Raven who had done so.
“I have packed your things, Cam, and left clean clothes and water if you want to change and wash before we leave,” Eden said to her brother as he strolled through the front door.
“Excellent.” Cam flashed her a smile before dropping a kiss on her cheek.
“Did you encounter any trouble?” Dev queried, joining them.
“No, he’s a bloody cold fish though. I tried to converse with him upon several occasions, but he refused to talk. Even over our evening meal, he sat in stony silence. It was enough to give a man indigestion.”
“The servants?”
Eden stood silently, listening to her brothers. She felt a frisson of fear that someone could finish what they had started the other night and hoped they got the Duke safely to London before those responsible realized he still lived.
“I don’t think the ones I saw were involved in the attempt on his life; most didn’t even look at him. In fact, only the butler spoke, and from what I gather he’s been part of the castle since the current Duke was a babe,” Cam said, rubbing the back of his neck. “And the little sister didn’t lift her eyes from her feet when I was introduced to her, and then I never saw her again until this morning. She’s a sweet little thing, and I look forward to our sisters befriending her, as she has surely been lonely up there in that bloody great monstrosity with him.”
