by Wendy Vella
“Shall we speak with him now, James?” Eden said.
“James, are.... Does this make you happy?” Essie had to ask the question. She remembered when she first met him, he had been cold and hard. The walls he had built around himself to keep him emotionally safe had been impenetrable, but of course, Eden had managed to smash through them. Now she thought about it, Max was the same.
“Strangely, it does, but perhaps that is because I need to know those that my father hurt. Know them, and make recompense. Of course, in Max Huntington’s case, recompense is not necessary, but perhaps he will wish to get to know his new family, and if not….” James shrugged.
“We can be persistent, darling,” Eden said, kissing his cheek.
“Well then, let us go and see how he feels about the fact he has acquired more family in his life.”
Not more, Essie thought. Some. Max had always been alone. Now he was not. She hoped he was pleased about that fact, but had a feeling he would not be.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Max woke late because again he had not slept. Only, last night’s dream had not been pleasant like so many of the others involving Essex Sinclair. This one had featured a large rampaging beast that was determined to crush Essie under its feet. She had been begging Max to save her, but he could not reach her. He’d woken drenched in sweat.
“Good Lord, you look like hell.”
“I usually start the day with good morning,” Max growled at Edward as he lowered himself into a seat in his breakfast parlor.
“Good morning, what happened?”
“I slept badly, end of story.”
“If I may suggest a warmed brandy in milk, and if that does not work, then a woman.”
“My mood is not what I would term sunny this day, Edward, so bait me at your peril.”
“I shall discuss business then.”
“Good idea.”
And they did, for an hour, and after his second cup of coffee Max started to feel more like himself, whoever the hell that may be.
“Start the process for buying the Melton mill first, Edward.”
“Of course, I shall get on it today.” Edward got to his feet.
“The Duke and Duchess of Raven have called, Mr. Huntington, and request a meeting with you.”
“Well now, that is a surprise,” Edward said. “I shall leave you to your illustrious company. Send word if you need me.”
“I will, and thank you.”
Max got out of his chair. He could honestly find no reason for the duke and duchess to visit him.
“Where in this monstrosity have you put them, George?”
“The front salon again, Mr. Huntington.”
He grunted something and followed his butler up the stairs.
“Mr. Huntington,” George said after opening the door to the salon, “I shall bring a tray.”
Did they need a tray? Looking at the solemn faces of the duke and duchess, he hoped like hell it had something stronger than tea on it, even if the sun had not risen high in the sky as yet. He had a sudden feeling of impending doom.
“Please take a seat.” He waved them into chairs.
“Thank you,” the duchess said. Her husband said nothing.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” Max decided to get to the point. He was not one for polite chat.
“Mr. Spriggot has just apprised me of some news that I have been awaiting for some time, Max. I came to share it with you.”
Max frowned. The duke had called him by his first name, when he could not remember him doing so before.
“Mr. Spriggot came to you with news for me?”
“Not exactly.” The duke got to his feet, and Max could see he was agitated.
“I have employed Mr. Spriggot to look into a matter for me, your Grace. I am not sure why he would discuss that matter with you?”
“He did not. And there is no easy or gentle way to say this, so I will simply do so.”
Max wasn’t sure why he felt tense, but he was, his muscles clenched in anticipation.
“My father sired many children, Max. And I have been looking for them since I knew.”
“No!” The whisper was torn from Max.
“Yes, you are my brother.”
He’d had moments in his life before when shock had robbed him of speech and caused his body to shake. The night he’d learned his mother had apprenticed him on a ship at a young age had been one. When he’d received his first beating, one night later, had been another.
“Max?”
He looked up as Eden approached.
“Can I call you Max?”
He nodded, numb. Disbelieving over what he had learned.
“This is a shock for you, as it was for James.”
“I-it is,” he admitted. Over her shoulder, he looked at the duke... dear God, his brother.
“We are not a comfortable family, it is fair to say, Max. But a wonderful one to be part of. We are very happy to have you join us.”
“I-I’m not sure that I can do that. I’ve been alone for so long, and—”
“I understand this news is overwhelming, and that is to be expected, Max. And now I am going to leave you alone with your brother, and there is one thing I can promise you.”
“What?” Her eyes held his, and he saw so much compassion in the gray depths he had to swallow quickly, as his throat felt tight.
“Your brother is the very best of men.”
She rose then, and kissed his cheek before going to her husband to do the same. Max watched the duke’s eyes close briefly as he mouthed the words I love you to his wife, and then she left, closing the door softly behind her.
He’d heard the term deafening silence, but never really understood it until that moment. He had a duke for a brother. Max could not take it in.
“You also have two sisters, and I suspect I have another brother and sister somewhere out in the world.”
“Are you sure about this?” His words were urgent as Max looked at the man now standing before him.
“Very.”
“Christ.”
“My words were more colorful, but yes, it is a shock. It seems your mother worked for my father at Raven Castle for many years. After you were born, he moved you both into a house an hour away, and then proceeded to visit her often. When you were young, he withdrew his support, and your mother took you to France.”
“Your sisters—”
“Samantha was born to my father’s second wife. Emily was born out of wedlock to another mistress. My father treated her unfairly, and she died, as did Emily’s brother. There is a great deal more to that story, however, I think that is for another day.”
“And yet you claim Emily as your own. She lives in your house.”
“She is my sister, and I love her. I would never turn her away because the circumstances of her birth differ from mine.”
He meant it, Max realized. Every word the duke spoke was true.
“As I will never turn from you now I know you are my brother. No matter how you feel about me.”
“I don’t know how I feel about it,” Max rasped. “How could I? For years I believed.... God, I don’t know what I believed.”
“I understand.” The duke’s words were solemn.
“No. You cannot understand.” Max’s head was pounding and he could feel his control slipping. “I have been beaten, whipped, and those are just a few of the things I experienced. How the hell can you expect to understand?”
“I may be a duke, but my life has not been as you would expect either. My birthright did not ensure I lived a cosseted life.”
Max snorted. “Your sister said something about that. But your worst days would be my best, your Grace,” Max said. He felt odd, his body suddenly cold. Shock, he realized, it had to be shock.
“I am not here to trade insults with you, Max. This news has been a shock, and if I stay we will end up arguing. Therefore, I shall leave you alone, but understand one thing. I am now, and always
will be, your brother from this day forth. Whether you wish it or not.”
Max heard the door close once more. Suddenly he needed air. Need to be outside and feel the sun on his face. Walking out the door, he found George.
“Hat now!”
His butler made it down the stairs before him and handed him his hat. Max slapped it on his head and walked out the front door. He threw a dark look at the house that he now knew housed his brother, as he started down the road to the park.
Essie sat on the blanket as her three siblings ran about the place chasing the kite Warwick flew. She had walked home with Dev, both silent as they processed the information that Max was James’s brother. She had then gathered up Dorrie, Somer, and Warwick, and made for the park with her maid.
Max is a Raven.
There had been something about him from the very start, but she had not known what that something was until now. Their connection dated back many years, it seemed, whether they wished it or not.
Something made her look to the left, a sensation that she could not ignore, and there he was. Max, walking with his head down, deep in thought. He now knew he was James’s brother, and part of her ached for the turmoil that must be inside him. He did not look up until he was nearly upon her, and then he stopped, his eyes focused on her. So much emotion blazed from the tawny depths.
“Hello.”
“Hello,” he replied, but still he had not moved. “How do you feel?”
“Better, thank you.”
“Your face—”
“I’m all right, Max.”
“Max!” Somer’s shriek drew their eyes as the little girl came barreling forward with her siblings on her heels.
“Hello, Miss Somerset.”
She giggled. “Silly, I am just Somer to you.”
“Hello, Somer then. And Dorrie and Warwick.”
He had received a shock this morning that had very likely rocked the foundations of what he had always believed his life to be, and yet he still took the time to be nice to her siblings.
This, Essie knew, was a good man.
“Will you sit with Essie so we can show you what excellent kite flyers we all are?”
“And so humble also.”
Somer poked her tongue out at Essie, then ran away squealing loudly.
“I’m sure that sound could break glass.” She winced. “Would you care to sit, Mr. Huntington?”
He hesitated.
“I know, Max.”
He exhaled loudly, the sound deflating him. His shoulders slumped, and suddenly she saw vulnerability. The man she’d believed indomitable was now not. He had no doubt seen and experienced more than she could ever imagine, but this... the knowledge that James was his brother, had, simply put, shaken his foundations.
“I-I…. It is almost more than I can take in.”
His hands were thrust into his pockets, his eyes on her siblings, who were now all squealing and running about the place with not a care in the world. They were safe in the knowledge they were loved by many, and their futures, for now, secure. Fate would play a hand, but as yet, none of them knew in what way.
“Max, sit.” Essie got to her knees and touched his hand. He jerked back at her touch, as if she repelled him... and yet the tortured look he settled on her told her differently.
“I-I need to walk,” he said. “I do not want to stay here and hurt you again.”
“How will you hurt me again, if we are just talking?”
He did not reply. Instead, he bowed deeply and walked away, body rigid, heart in turmoil, and Essie could do nothing for him.
She sat with her siblings until they tired, and only then did she gather everything and head for home. It was as she drew closer to Max’s house that a thought entered her head.
“Take the children home, Grace. I will gather a few herbs from Mr. Huntington’s garden while he is out, and return shortly.”
“Can we not come with you, Essie?”
“No, I will visit Eden after, and we will return home to take tea with you. Go on now, as it is time for your lessons.”
They grumbled, but did as she asked, leaving her alone on the road in front of Max’s house. He had gone out, and she had not seen him return. Now was the time to gather the herbs she wanted to make Silver more tonic for his headaches.
She knocked, and smiled at the butler as he opened the door.
“Good day, I am Miss Sinclair. Mr. Huntington told me I could visit his conservatory when required and collect some herbs. Is this a good time?”
“I’m afraid he’s from home at the moment, Miss Sinclair.”
“Yes, I know, I saw him as he left, and he told me to come gather what I required.”
Essie kept smiling as the butler’s eyes passed over her bruises.
“Of course. If you will follow me, I will take you through.”
“I know the way,” Essie said. “Please don’t bother yourself.”
She hurried through the house and down the stairs. Entering the conservatory, she inhaled, feeling instantly calmer surrounded by nature... but not just any nature, the things she loved.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Max had walked and walked, and felt no calmer. His brother was a duke. He could still not take it in. Entering his house, he found George hovering in the entrance.
“Good afternoon, George, my apologies for my curt behavior earlier.”
“No apology is necessary, Mr. Huntington.”
He shrugged out of his coat and handed it to his butler. He was always felt calmer in his shirtsleeves.
“Tell me you have not been standing here since my departure?”
“No indeed, but I wanted to advise you that Miss Sinclair is in the conservatory. She said you had given your permission for her to visit there when she wished.”
Essie was here, inside his house. Suddenly his head felt clearer, and he wanted to see her with a desperation that took his breath away.
“Just Miss Sinclair, George?”
His butler nodded.
“Excellent. See that no one disturbs us, please. Miss Essex and I have some procedures to discuss for the boys.”
It was true, Max convinced himself as he walked rapidly to the stairs. Whatever Essie had given Silver had eased his headaches, and Peter was much better, and his breathing seemed calmer. In fact, Max had wondered if Essie would consider running a clinic from his warehouse while she was in London. This was a great time to discuss it. The fact that his life had just turned on its head did not matter. What mattered was that she was here, alone, in his house.
Max ran down the stairs so fast he tripped on the last, and only just managed to stop himself falling on his face.
When he’d seen her at the park, the need to take her in his arms had consumed him... she consumed him. He’d seen her bruises and wanted to kiss each one. How could one woman have created so much havoc inside him? He had just found out he was the bastard son of a duke, and right here and now, that took second place to the woman he knew was on the other side of that door.
Clenching the handle, he turned it, and walked inside the conservatory. Sun showered through the glass, creating shadows and burnishing plants. Looking around, he could not see Essie, but he could hear her. She was humming. Soft and off-key, it made him smile. Walking down the first row, he looked for her in the foliage, but when that failed he headed up the second row, and then down the third. He found her on her knees grubbing about in the dirt.
Why did he feel suddenly like smiling when his life was in turmoil? He had no rights to this woman, she could never be his, but he wanted her with everything inside him. Ached for her.
“Essie.” Her name came out as a plea.
She turned, eyes wide. “Max.” He watched her lips whisper his name. “I’m sorry, I had thought to be gone before you returned, I—”
“No.” He reached her in two strides. “I don’t want you to go.” He lifted her to her feet and settled her before him, close enough that he could smell her. H
erbs, perfume, and Essie, the woman who intoxicated him.
“Max, are you all right?”
His hands held her hips, and slowly he pulled her closer until her breasts touched his chest, until he could see that her breathing was suddenly as rapid as his.
“Essie.” He cupped her bruised cheek gently. “I can’t stay away from you.”
She closed her eyes, and he leaned in to kiss the damaged skin on her face. “I feared for you that day,” he whispered. “When your hand slipped from mine, I have never known such terror.”
“For me also.”
Max saw the truth in her eyes. Closing his briefly, he gave up the fight. When he opened them, he took her lips in a deep kiss. Where he had touched her face with reverence, this was fierce. The need inside him demanded it, no matter that she was a lady, a sweet, gentle lady.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered against her lips. “You are hurting, I had no right—”
“No.” Her hands were in his hair, and he felt a tug of pain as she pulled. “Don’t be gentle, I won’t break. I need this.” She rose to her toes and kissed him. “Have ached for this since that night at Oak’s Knoll.”
He kissed her again, drugging kisses that had no end or beginning. His hand moved down her back, tracing the knuckles of her spine to the lovely curves beneath. He cupped the swells, caressing and mapping the woman who had driven him insensible with need since that night he had taken her innocence.
“Essie.” He breathed her name into the sweet skin of her neck. She arched, and he took what she offered. He unbuttoned her spencer and pushed it from her shoulders.
“Every time I got close enough to breathe in your scent, I was reminded of that night we made love. I smelled your gardens on you, the heat of your skin, the taste of nature. You intoxicated me.”
She moaned as he kissed the tops of her breasts above her bodice. How could something so right, be wrong, Max reasoned as he searched for the buttons of her dress. Finding them marching down her spine, he released them, and then kissed each exposed piece of skin as he eased the garment from her body.
