Always Mine

by Cheryl Holt

  “Be my guest.”

  He observed as Melville shut it, then shed his hat and slicker.

  “Where’s your gig?” Raven asked.

  “I sold it.”

  “That’s too bad. You were very sporty when you dashed around the neighborhood. You enlivened this dreary spot.”

  “I’m not the sort to own such a flashy vehicle. I forced myself to admit it, and I reverted to less exciting transportation.”

  The poor fellow looked positively glum over the decision, and Raven said, “I have some servants now, so I might have had someone tend you, but I gave them the day off so they could spend Sunday with their families.”

  “It sounds like a completely normal idea. If you’re not careful, people will begin to assume you’re absolutely ordinary.”

  “There’s no chance of that,” Raven muttered. “Why are you here? I could have sworn—after your prior visit—I told you to stay away.”

  “Yes, well, we have a few matters to discuss.” He motioned to an empty chair. “May I sit?”

  “I suppose, so long as you promise you won’t aggravate me.”

  Melville smirked. “I’ll try not to.”

  He walked over and plopped down, which meant Raven had to turn toward the hearth too so he wasn’t facing in the opposite direction.

  “It’s wet and miserable out there,” Melville said. “This fire is wonderful.”

  “We’re not chatting. What is it you want? Get on with it please.”

  “Fine, fine. You needn’t snap and bark at me. I’ve brought Millicent home to Carter Crossing.”

  “Oh. Good. After you explained her situation, I went to London to pry her away from my brother, but she’d departed on her own—smart girl that she apparently is.”

  “I realize you’re fond of your brother, so I will not call him any of the names I’d like to use when referring to him.”

  “You can call him whatever you like. He is not a mystery to me, and you won’t be telling me anything I haven’t already figured out.”

  “I have offered to marry her.”

  “Really? You’ll save her from disgrace?”

  Melville’s cheeks flushed. “Yes.”

  “That’s gallant of you. I guess Lucas’s antics were totally to your benefit then. I doubt she’d have wed you without his mischief.”

  “It appears to be the case, so I will not argue the point.”

  “Praise be.”

  “I have to ask you about Carter Crossing.”

  “What about it?”

  “I’ve spoken with the butler, and he has notified me that the staff is in a state of limbo. They had expected to be terminated and that you would tear down the house, but you haven’t done any of that.”

  Raven shrugged. “I’m still debating.”

  “May I beg for mercy on their behalf?”

  “You don’t have to convince me. I’ve listened to plenty of nagging to calm down and let them remain. I probably will.”

  “Millicent and I plan to marry next week.”

  “It’s awfully fast. Can you accomplish it that quickly?”

  “I’ve applied for a Special License. I didn’t think we should delay, although she’s advised me we needn’t hurry. Evidently, there’s no babe on the way, so your brother is off the hook.” Melville scowled. “I can’t fathom how she would know she’s not increasing, but better safe than sorry.”

  “Melville! We’re not discussing female bodily functions.”

  “Yes, yes, I agree. And…” Melville gulped and forced himself to continue. “I’d like to invite you to our wedding.”

  “Is that wise? Your betrothed’s mother has been arrested, and it was due to facts I furnished to the authorities. She might not be keen to gaze out into the pews during the ceremony and find me there.”

  “I don’t believe Millicent is surprised by her mother’s crimes.”

  “So she won’t mind if I attend?”

  “No. We’d both like you there.”

  “Are we to be friends, Melville? Is that what you’re hoping?”

  “Not friends precisely. You’re such a surly, unlikable brute. It’s not possible—not with what I’ve learned about you—but perhaps neighbors? Cordial neighbors?”

  “If we’re to be neighbors, it indicates that you presume you’ll be living over the hill at Carter Crossing.”

  “Yes…ah…about that. When I arrived back from my trip to town to rescue Millicent, I’d received correspondence apprising me that I won’t be granted a church posting after all.”

  “I’m truly devastated to hear it,” Raven said. “You possess the necessary qualities to have been especially proficient at that line of work.”

  “I appreciate the sentiment, but it means I won’t have the funds to support a wife or the rectory to give her a home.”

  “I get it now,” Raven mused. “You want to stay at Carter Crossing with her.”

  “I’m determined to provide for her, Shawcross, but I have the worst luck. Nothing ever goes right for me. I’m quite despondent over it.”

  “You’re wrong on your assessment of the situation. You yanked her away from Lucas, and it proves you have all kinds of spunk and character. Those attributes will take you a great distance in life.”

  “I’ll pray you’re correct, but so far, I haven’t had much fortune shine on me. I’d like it to, but it never does.”

  “Is your loss of the church job the reason you sold your gig?”

  “Yes. I needed the money, but it dawned on me too that I should stop pretending to be someone I’m not.”

  Raven studied him, and an interesting idea popped into his head. He never made hasty decisions, and he always considered the angles of any choice, but his sudden spurt of inspiration ignited a spark he couldn’t ignore.

  If he did a good deed, a deed that was a relief to many, would he cease feeling so wretched?

  “I have a proposition for you, Melville.”

  “What is it? Before you explain, I must inform you that I view you as a very dodgy fellow. I might not ever be a vicar, but my morals are still firmly in place. Please don’t suggest any project that would have me blushing.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  He stared at the fire, the seconds ticking by as he poked at the notion once more, then he resolved to simply bluster forward. Why not? If it turned out to be a disaster, he’d pick up the pieces and try something else.

  “I had planned to raze Carter Crossing,” he said, “then let the fields grow to weeds.”

  “I realize it, and I understand what Charles Carter did to your father, so I won’t judge you. If I’d lived through your predicament, I don’t know how I’d have reacted. I’d like to assume I’d have avenged my parents too.”

  “With your comment, I find myself liking you more than I should. I will admit to you that I’ve changed my mind about the property. It’s a fine residence, and it would be asinine to ruin it.”

  “I’m delighted by this news. Millicent and the servants have been distressed. You’ve calmed many fears.”

  “I’ve shuttered Carter Imports too. The ledgers were a mess, and Beatrice had embezzled from the clients so often that I figured it was best to close it. But I’ve had numerous people beg me to reopen it.”

  “Will you listen to any of them?”

  “I think I will.”

  “You’re becoming an accidental philanthropist.”

  “Or maybe I’m the biggest fool ever.”

  “Maybe.”

  Melville grinned, and in an abrupt flash, Raven remembered him from their months together at school. He’d been a quiet, funny boy, with an absurd sense of humor, and his quirks had made him a pariah. Other students had bullied him relentlessly, and on one particularly awful occasion, Raven had chased them off.

  Preston had been embarrassed at having to be rescued, so he’d never spoken to Raven again. Then Raven’s father h
ad been arrested, and he’d been sent to a different school. If his life had gone in a better direction, might they have been friends? Could they be friends in the future?

  “I need a manager to run Carter Imports for me. It has to be a person I can trust, a person who will rebuild it—and not rob me blind. What is your opinion? Would you like to take charge of it for me?”

  “Me!” Melville blanched, then sat up straighter. “Well, yes, I believe I would like to do that.”

  “We’ll settle on a salary later.”

  “I’m amenable to receiving whatever you deem to be fair.”

  “You’re a pathetic negotiator.” Raven rolled his eyes, wondering again if this was a sane idea. “If I’m not razing the manor, I have to have someone live in it and manage things there for me too.”

  “Are you offering the position to Millicent and me?”

  Raven nodded. “I guess I am.”

  “We enthusiastically accept!”

  Raven chuckled. “Good decision. I’m glad to note you won’t be stupid about it. Now get out of here, and let me enjoy a whiskey by myself. I’ve been as cordial as I can be for one afternoon.”

  Melville jumped up and grabbed Raven’s hand, and he shook it vigorously, his fervor overblown and awkward. “Thank you, thank you!”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Raven pulled away, and Melville smiled and went over to don his damp hat and slicker. As he prepared to depart, he was almost skipping with excitement. In contrast, Raven supposed he was a pitiful sight: alone in his cold, drafty mansion, with no family, friends, or servants to keep him company.

  Melville seemed to sense his dejected state, and he hovered, obviously anxious to share a pertinent thought, but Raven had meant it when he’d said he was exhausted by so much cordiality.

  He’d likely spend the next week, scolding himself over his generosity and speculating over what peculiar urge had possessed him, but he suspected he’d done it because it would make Rebecca happy. If she learned that he was being kind to Millicent, that he was saving their childhood home, might she return?

  Just as Melville opened the door to leave, Raven peered over his shoulder and asked, “Melville? While you were in town, Rebecca left Carter Crossing. She took the boy, Alex, with her. They had a fight with Beatrice, and she kicked them out.”

  “I heard about that, and actually, I was hoping she might be staying with you.”

  Raven wasn’t about to confess that she’d begged for shelter, but he’d been too much of an ass to provide it. “They rode the mail coach to London. Might she have had kin or acquaintances there? Could you ask Millicent for me? I’m not positive Rebecca had a destination in mind for when she arrived, and a young lady can land herself in a lot of trouble when that’s her plan.”

  “I’m not aware of any London acquaintances, but you might check with her Blake relatives. It’s quite a lofty family, and I can’t imagine she’s had contact with them lately, but it might be worth inquiring.”

  “Her Blake relatives?”

  “On her father’s side? You don’t appear to have been informed about her lineage. Her mother was a Carter, but her father was Viscount Blake of the Selby Blakes. Apparently, he was a philanderer, and her mother was seduced by him.”

  Raven almost fell out of his chair. “Are you joking?”

  “Ah…no? Her half-brother is Nathan Blake, the current Lord Selby? He’s the famous explorer.”

  “I know who Nathan Blake is,” Raven snapped in a surly tone.

  Melville pondered the remark, then perked up. “Oh! Yes, I expect you would. He’s one of Sir Sidney’s men.”

  “He and I have been close for over a decade, so I’m cognizant of the relevant details about his past. He doesn’t have any siblings.”

  “I can’t guess what he was ever told about it, but Rebecca is his half-sister. Her mother was Nathan’s nanny when he was a baby.” Melville wrinkled his nose. “I shouldn’t be spreading gossip about her. If Rebecca never confided in you—”

  “She never did.”

  “—it’s clear she didn’t think it was any of your business. She never talks about it either. Her Cousin Beatrice always taunted her over her connection to them, so she tried to pretend it didn’t exist.”

  “Nathan Blake! He’s her brother? You’re certain? You’re not confused or mistaken?”

  “No. Millicent could stop by to tell you about it if you’d like.”

  Raven shook his head with amazement, but a bit of shock too. “I believe you, Melville. I don’t need your fiancée to verify it.”

  “You ought to write to Lord Selby. He might have some news, but other than him, I really can’t picture where she might be.”

  “When is your wedding?” Raven asked.

  “Friday.”

  “I’ll be away for a few days, but I’ll be sure to be back for it.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’m traveling to Selby to discuss Rebecca with Nathan Blake.”

  “If he doesn’t know about her being his sister, should you apprise him? In my humble opinion, aristocrats are odd ducks. He probably wouldn’t like to discover that his father was a libertine. He might shoot the messenger.”

  “I’ll brace myself for a rude reception,” Raven said, “and I’ll return in plenty of time for your ceremony. I’ll buy you an expensive gift.”

  “You’re growing nicer by the minute.”

  “Don’t get used to it.”

  “If you find Miss Rebecca at her brother’s home, bring her to the wedding too. Millicent would love to have her sitting in the front pew at the church.”

  “I will do that, Melville. If I find her, I definitely will.”

  * * * *

  Raven was nervously perched on a sofa in a small parlor at Selby Manor. He’d arrived without warning, introduced himself to the footman at the door, and asked to speak with Nathan.

  A servant had been dispatched to track him down, but it was a large estate, and he’d been apprised it would take awhile to locate him. Nathan had important guests in residence, and he was busy entertaining them.

  What would Nathan think of Raven blustering in? Would he be irked? Or would some of his temper have waned so he’d be happy to have an old friend stop by?

  Raven was hoping it was the latter.

  He’d never previously visited Selby, and he was stunned by the opulence. Yes, Nathan was an earl, but during their expeditions, he’d simply been a member of the Sinclair team, so his disparate wealth and status hadn’t mattered.

  Raven wasn’t exactly a stranger to affluence. He was very rich too, as were several members of their group, particularly Sebastian Sinclair who’d inherited Sir Sidney’s fortune after he’d been murdered.

  Raven and his companions had existed in two worlds. In one, they’d camped and cooked over fires and lived like vagabonds. They’d rarely bathed or shaved or laundered their clothes. In the other, the one they inhabited whenever they returned to England, they wallowed in conditions that were grandiose and pretentious.

  But Selby Manor put all their other mansions and properties to shame. It was exquisite, Nathan’s position and prosperity visible in every direction. How far would he have reverted into his aristocratic life? Had Raven any part in it now?

  Since they’d been home, Raven had bumped into Nathan on precisely one occasion: the public inquest held to review the circumstances leading up to Sir Sidney’s death. When they’d chatted, Nathan had been cool and dismissive, his attitude demonstrating that he considered himself to be separated from his prior acquaintances.

  Months had passed since then. Might some of his hostility have abated? Nathan was tough and brave, possessed of many of Raven’s same traits. Because they were so similar, he’d always been one of Raven’s favorite people. He couldn’t bear for them to be at odds.

  The door opened behind him, and he braced for anything. If he’d been a religious man, he’d have mu
rmured a prayer for strength, that Nathan would have forgiven him for the mistakes he’d made in Africa. At the very least, he’d have prayed for a display of cordiality.

  He’d have prayed too for news about Rebecca and Alex, but because he wasn’t religious, he simply inhaled a deep breath, rose to his feet, and spun to discover who had entered.

  “Rebecca!”

  Her name burst from his lips, and he felt a tad dizzy at finding her hale and present. He hadn’t been optimistic that Nathan would have information about her, so this was such an unexpected surprise. He was so relieved he could barely maintain his balance.

  “I’m so glad to see you!” he said.

  She marched over, and he dipped in to kiss her. He probably didn’t have the right anymore, but he was so overjoyed that he couldn’t resist. She lurched away though, so he grazed her cheek.

  “Hello, Mr. Shawcross.”

  Her mode of address was so formal, and his spirits sank. Clearly, she was angry, and he supposed it would be difficult to alter that opinion, but then, he deserved her scorn.

  “Don’t call me Shawcross. Call me Raven. We’re still friends, aren’t we?”

  “Friends? Really? Your gall knows no bounds. Imagine my astonishment when I learned you’d slithered in without an invitation.”

  “I’ve been searching everywhere for you.”

  “A likely story,” she scoffed.

  “Mr. Melville told me you were a Blake, so I came immediately to ask Nathan if you’d contacted him.”

  “Oh, he’s heard plenty from me, but I won’t repeat any of it. I’m not sure you’d like it.”

  His spirits flagged even further. Nathan had been left for dead in Africa, and Raven blamed himself for their abandoning him. He’d been mourning Nathan’s demise, then—when Nathan had turned up alive and at Selby—Raven had been too much of a coward to visit and check on him.

  He’d tried to apologize that afternoon at the inquest, but his overture had been rebuffed. If Rebecca had been filling his ear with tales of how Raven had mistreated her—tales that were true—any chance for them to mend their bond had been destroyed.

  “Is Alex with you?”