Sinclair and Raven Series: Books 1-3

by Wendy Vella

  “I won't tell you.”

  Dev swallowed his smile and winked at his sister. They would not have to wait long.

  “I told her that she would never find herself a husband looking the way she does!”

  Now that, Dev hadn't expected. “Cam, you are an idiot!”

  “It came out wrong,” he said, looking sheepish.

  “One wonders how that could come out right,” Dev said, lowering his fork. “Remember, brother, make sure your brain is engaged before your mouth.”

  “It was early,” Cam said, waving around his fork. “I hadn't eaten anything for hours.”

  “Now that I seriously doubt,” Essie said, getting to her feet.

  “The woman has a way of getting under my skin. It's all that meek-mannered stuff; it grates on me.”

  Dev, who had also risen, looked down at his brother long enough that the younger Sinclair lowered his eyes.

  “Miss Tolly has had a life even you could never understand, Cambridge. She has been subjected to poverty and starvation and most probably ridicule. Her nature is, I am sure, a direct result of that.”

  Cam squirmed in his seat as Dev continued.

  “She is now related to us by the union of our sister to her brother. Therefore she is family and under our protection. I will say nothing further, only that were one of our sisters treated to such shabby manners you would likely seek retribution.”

  Cam sighed then looked at his brother. “You do that better than any person I know.”

  “Do what?”

  “Serve up a scolding without raising your voice. I am now duly shamed and will seek to apologize with haste.”

  “Excellent. Now, Essie and I are going out. The children are with their tutor until lunchtime. If you want to join them, I'm sure they will welcome your presence.”

  Cam thought about Dev's words then nodded. “I wonder if they've had story time yet.”

  Essie laughed as she followed Dev from the room.

  “I don't believe I invited you to accompany me to visit with Miss Braithwaite, Dev. Perhaps you dancing with her and that other incident that happened the other night will go some way toward changing your dislike of each other. However, I don't think she'd want you knowing about the house in Temple Street.”

  Following his sister silently down the stairs to the front entrance, he thought about his words.

  “It is my duty to ensure your safety, sister, and to do that I need to see where it is you go. Starting with Temple Street.”

  Essie scoffed, then snorted as she put on her jacket, hat, and gloves.

  “Do you honestly believe I will fall for that line? You are interested in Miss Braithwaite, no matter how much you deny it.”

  Taking his time, he too put on his hat and gloves before answering.

  “I have no idea what you are referring to. There is also the small matter of her choice of clothing. I could never befriend a woman who wears mustard and brown together.” Dev faked a shudder.

  Essie looked at him for several seconds and then, smiling, she patted his hand and walked out the front door. Dev followed, not liking the look on her face one bit.

  Chapter Six

  Lilly woke slowly and lay in the dark for long minutes, remembering her dreams. The children had been screaming and running, trying to evade a man whose face she could not identify. Desperate to reach them, she had run too, but could never quite catch up to them. Then he had been there, Lord Sinclair. Like some dark avenging angel, he had protected the children and her.

  What did that mean? Throwing back the covers, she swung her legs out of bed.

  “It means he is occupying far too many of your thoughts, and it must stop.”

  That kiss had disturbed her, and not just because it was the first one that had not repulse her. Her reaction to that man was terrifying. Lilly didn't touch people; she'd learned early in her life that the results were not pleasing, so she kept her gloves on at all times. But him, Lord Sinclair, he had touched her face and neck, kissed her lips, and Lord, the sensations had been beyond anything she could describe. A thousand tiny feelings had traveled through her body, and Lilly had been a slave to them, to him, within seconds. Never again, she vowed.

  “I will have a tray in my room, Bee,” she said as her maid opened the curtains.

  “Your brother wishes you to come down for breakfast, Miss Braithwaite.”

  Groaning, Lilly buried her head in the pillow.

  “Why? What is Nicholas doing out of bed at such an hour?”

  Her maid was tall and willowy, but Lilly had realized that in the case of Beatrice Moulds, appearances were deceiving. The woman was as strong as a carthorse.

  “As to that, I am unsure. However your aunt will also be there.”

  Lilly stripped off her nightdress and stepped into the steaming tub of water. Her family rarely ate together. She and Aunt Vi usually, but never Nicholas, as he was sleeping off whatever night of depravity he had participated in.

  “We leave for Temple Street immediately I finish my morning meal, Bee, so please be ready.”

  They were to meet Essex Sinclair there. And while Lilly was not comfortable about the fact she was Lord Sinclair's sister, there was little she could do about the matter, as her hand had been forced.

  She dressed and walked to the breakfast parlor.

  “Your family are seated, Miss Braithwaite.”

  “Thank you, Hopkins.”

  “You are late!”

  Ignoring her brother because she knew it would annoy him, Lilly kissed her aunt's cheek.

  “Good morning, Aunt Vi.”

  “Hello, darling. I trust you slept well?”

  “Indeed I did.”

  Their mother's sister, Lady James, had come to live with them after Lilly's parents’ deaths, as her children had set up their own homes and had no need of her. Gentle and sweet-natured, she was the perfect chaperone for Lilly, because she was happy to let her come and go as she pleased from the house.

  Taking her seat, she nodded to the maid to pour her tea.

  “I have gathered everyone here this morning to make an announcement.”

  “One hopes it takes you from the house for an extended period of time,” Lilly said, reaching for the toast.

  She and her brother had once been friends, but all that changed when their father had passed away and Nicholas began to believe himself too important to spend time with her.

  “I will ignore that statement in favor of my own,” he said in a haughty voice. “I have decided, Lilliana, you will marry before this season is over, and I have selected your bridegroom.”

  Lowering her knife, Lilly looked up. “I beg your pardon?” Stay calm, Lilly.

  “You are twenty-five and it is well past time for you to marry.”

  Where she was fair, he was dark, his eyes almost black. Taller than her, he was a man who carried no spare weight, and clothes sat well on his lean body. She knew plenty of women who certainly thought so.

  “Why the concern for my unmarried state now, Nicholas, when you never usually care for anyone but yourself?”

  “It is time,” he snapped. “You are a disgrace to me.”

  Lilly's grandmother had left her money that she received in a small yearly sum until her twenty-sixth year. This she spent on the children and Temple Street. The rest would come to her as long as she did not marry first. If she did, it stayed in her family, as she would have no need of it—or so her grandmother had believed.

  This was why Lilly had taken pains to remain unattractive when she entered society, not entirely sure whether Nicholas would force her to wed whoever he wished simply to get his hands on her money.

  One more year and she would receive her money and set up house on her own. Then she would be rid of him, and could live her life as she chose to. Until today, her plans had been working well.

  “Lord Danderfield has inferred he will offer for you soon, and I have told him you will accept.”

  “What?” The toast she
had just swallowed threatened to choke her. “You cannot force me to wed, Nicholas.”

  Her brother's eyes narrowed.

  “I can, actually. As no one has offered for you in three seasons, sister, I have decided to take control of the matter. It is time you were taken in hand.”

  Stay calm, Lilly.

  “Why all of a sudden does this concern you, Nicholas?” Lilly looked at her brother. There had to be a reason; she just needed to find out what. “Father left behind plenty of money; surely you do not need mine also?”

  He kept his eyes steady on hers, but she saw something flicker, and then it was gone. Shooting her aunt a look, Lilly noticed she did not look happy. However, she would never naysay Nicholas. He scared her; Lilly was sure of it.

  “I have no wish to marry and have my sister still in my household. Therefore, I have decided you will wed Danderfield, and that is all that I will say on the matter.”

  “What's happened, Nicholas? For two years you were more than happy with me running your household and ensuring the right amount of starch was in your neckties, and suddenly now you are happy to marry me off to a man old enough to be my grandfather.”

  “It is my duty as your brother to see you comfortable and well cared for.”

  “Well cared for,” Lilly scoffed. “With Danderfield? Surely you jest.”

  “My mind is made up!” he roared.

  She realized then. “You've spent it all, haven't you?”

  “Lilliana,” this came from her aunt. “I think you have said enough. Your brother wishes only your happiness.”

  “No, he doesn't, Aunt Vi. He cares nothing about you or me, only himself, isn't that right, Nicholas.” Her brother would not meet her eyes. “And he has now gambled every cent of my father's money away and wants mine. But he won't get it,” Lilly vowed, climbing to her feet. “I will fight you with everything I have at my disposal, Nicholas. So if you pursue this, be ready for a battle!”

  “I am your guardian!” he thundered, rising also. “You will do as I bloody well say!”

  “I will not be sacrificed on the altar of your greed, brother, so you can continue to live your licentious lifestyle. If you think I will marry a man old enough to be my grandfather, you can think again.”

  Lilly then walked slowly to the door and left the room with her brother roaring at her to stay.

  By the time she had reached her room, her hands were shaking and her knees weak. Lilly had never had an encounter like that with her Nicholas, simply because she took the path of least resistance, and before today, he had left her alone. He could do as he said, she knew that. He had the power, but she would not let him win.

  “Are you unwell, Miss Braithwaite?”

  “I'm fine, Bee, just thinking,” Lilly said as she paced around her room.

  “What did your brother say to take the color from your cheeks? You're whiter than a ghost.”

  “He said lots of things, as he always does. Now don't fuss, and let us get ready to leave.”

  Bee helped Lilly into her coat and bonnet. Grabbing her gloves and reticule, she then left the room with her maid on her heels.

  Nicholas was about to leave the house also as she arrived at the front door. Ignoring him, Lilly walked past.

  “Where are you going?”

  “None of your business,” she snapped

  “Lilliana, as your brother—”

  “Brother? That statement is laughable, Nicholas.” Lilly kept her voice low, having no wish for the servants to overhear their conversation. “Brothers care for their siblings. You, however, care only for yourself.”

  He reached for her, trying to stop her leaving the house, but she stepped to the side, out of range, and continued walking. She did not stop until she was seated inside the carriage her grandmother had left her. She felt her brother’s eyes on her as the carriage pulled from the drive, but she did not look back.

  Lord Danderfield, the man her brother proposed she wed, was nearing seventy and natured like Nicholas. Lilly could imagine her existence should she yield and marry the man. Why did he want her? Surely he did not need the money of her dowry, as she knew he had wealth and estates, so what was his motivation? Or more importantly, what bribe had her brother offered him to offer for her?

  Thoughts spiraled in hopeless circles around her head on the short journey across town. Finally she forced them aside as the carriage pulled up outside the little house. Taking the five steps up to the neat brown front door, Lilly looked up at the property that she alone owned. Mine, she thought, feeling the cold knot inside her begin to unravel. He can never take this from me. Lifting a gloved hand, she knocked.

  “Miss Braithwaite, the door is always open, especially to you.”

  Mr. Davey stood before her with his perpetual smile in place. Short and stout with a sprinkling of gray hair, the man could lift her spirits with just a look.

  “This is your home, Mr. Davey.” Lilly stepped inside. They had this conversation every time she called. “I own it, but you live in it. Therefore, you deserve to open the door to callers who knock.”

  He harrumphed, as he always did.

  “A Miss Sinclair is due to call in an hour. I shall be in the parlor by then, going over the accounts, so show her in there, please.”

  “Of course.”

  After removing her coat and bonnet, she handed both to him.

  “Come, Bee, we should have time for a cup of tea before Miss Sinclair arrives, as I missed breakfast.”

  The kitchens at Temple Street were one of Lilly's favorite places to visit. Walking down the long pale blue hall, she noted the table with a vase bursting with a jumble of flowers. Such a small thing, yet beautiful in its simplicity, unlike the flowers arranged to perfection in her brother's house. Turning left, Lilly took the stairs down.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Davey,” Lilly said, smiling to the woman standing at the bench with her hands in a bowl of something. Built like her husband, she had thick red hair and bright blue eyes that never missed a thing.

  “Good morning, Miss Braithwaite, Bee.”

  Pulling out her flour-covered hands, she wiped them on a cloth. “You take a seat and I'll have you both a nice cup of tea and cinnamon bun ready in minutes.”

  Lilly loved this room; it was always warm and smelled of so many delightful scents. Often Mrs. Davey was singing or laughing, and it was a place she had spent many happy hours in. It was a hive of activity, even though only one person worked in it.

  “I would love a cinnamon bun, if you have one spare.”

  “Of course I have one spare for you, Miss Braithwaite.”

  After securing the house in Temple Street, Lilly had had Wilson seek out the perfect couple to run it, and it had been he who recommended the Daveys. The couple had been the perfect fit.

  “Sit.”

  Lilly ignored the seat Mrs. Davey waved her to, and moved to sit on the bench. With a small leap, she landed on the surface.

  “I'm sure sitting on a bench swinging your legs is not proper behavior for a young lady of your station,” Mrs. Davey clucked.

  “And yet I have been doing it for many months now,” Lilly said, moving her legs slowly back and forth. She wasn't sure why she enjoyed sitting up there, but she did. Perhaps because she rarely got to behave in such a way, or perhaps because this house was hers, and she could do as she wished in it. “Besides, being a lady is not always easy. There are so many rules and etiquette to follow. It is just nice to swing one's legs occasionally.”

  “I'm sure there is a deeper meaning in there,” Bee said, taking down cups.

  Lilly just being allowed in this room had been a major step. The Daveys, at first, had treated her like royalty, and drinking tea with a woman of noble birth had taken something of an adjustment. The first time she’d leaped onto the bench, Mrs. Davey had nearly had conniptions.

  “Here's your tea, Miss Braithwaite.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Davey.”

  “That mark on your chin has faded som
e, but it’s still a nice plum color.”

  Sipping tea, Lilly was soon chatting with the ladies and realized that if one day this was the place she was forced to flee to, she would be quite happy about that. Because one thing Lilly knew with absolute conviction was that she would not wed Lord Danderfield. To ensure her brother did not force her, and that she remained single until she reached her twenty-sixth year, she may have to hide, and this would be the perfect place.

  Chapter Seven

  “Must you come inside, Dev? You can see it is not a house of ill repute or some seedy establishment that I will never return from,” Essie said, exasperated as Dev followed her up the stairs to the little brick house. “Miss Braithwaite was not happy that I knew of its existence, so I can only imagine how she is going to feel now you know.”

  She had been singing this particular tune the entire journey across town, and he had told her in no uncertain terms that he was not leaving until he had seen inside. Of course his main reason was to see Lilliana again, but he wasn't telling his sister that.

  “I see a brick façade, Essex, behind which anything could be housed,” Dev said in a reasonable tone that made her teeth snap together.

  “She may not have even arrived yet. Then what will you do?”

  “Who?”

  “I will slap you in a minute, Devonshire Sinclair, just see if I don't!” Essie snapped.

  “Such unladylike behavior, Essex.” Dev tut-tutted, because when a Sinclair had an opening to needle a sibling he took it.

  “You, sir, are a dastardly cur!”

  “I do believe that hurt, Essex.”

  “Oaf.”

  “Now that's more like the sister I know and love,” he said, and then gave a bark of laughter as she poked her tongue out at him.

  Standing back as she knocked on the front door, he watched it open. The man who appeared was neatly dressed and wore a gentle smile that made his own lips twitch to respond.

  “Surely a murderous individual,” his sister hissed at him. Dev smiled, but did not reply.