Raven (Gentlemen of the Order #2) - Adele Clee Page 0,14

“We visited the deadwood.”

During daylight hours, there seemed nothing to fear. At night, amid the spindly trees and the ravens’ caws, a confused woman might imagine all sorts of witchery.

Sophia’s eyes widened with alarm. “You went to the deadwood?”

“Someone made a fire there recently.” That was hardly surprising. Poachers stalked their prey at night.

She gave the embers one last prod before returning the poker to the stand. “Promise me you won’t go there again. There is something sinister about the place, and you have suffered enough since Hannah’s death.”

The atmosphere in the house was equally disturbing. He had lain awake for hours last night, certain he had heard whispering in the darkness.

“I’ll not discuss Hannah,” he warned lest she start probing into his past. “And you know I am dismissive of myth and superstition. When I questioned Blent about hearing ghostly echoes of a witch’s curse, he said people from the village often play pranks.”

Sophia appeared unconvinced. She pushed a silky blonde tendril behind her ear and stroked her throat, though he wished she hadn’t. The memory of pressing his lips to the sensitive skin burst into his mind.

“While that’s true, there are people who have lived in this area for generations. People who still follow the old traditions.”

“You mean there are women who make herbal potions and gather in the woods at night.” He was in no position to mock. He had seen and heard many strange things during his investigations.

“I mean, this entire area is cursed.” She drew her wrapper tightly across her chest and shivered. “You must have felt the oppressive energy when you rode through the woods.”

Finlay couldn’t lie. As a strong, virile man capable of fending off a brutal attack, the ominous aura had made him want to tear along the path at breakneck speed. Instinct told him there was something out there, though he would wager it had nothing to do with the supernatural and everything to do with a devious villain.

“One should fear the living, not the dead,” he said. “A man gave Jessica the bowl and encouraged her to come to the woods at night. A man is feeding her mind with nonsense.”

Blent wasn’t helping matters. And no doubt Dr Goodwin’s tincture made Jessica unstable. Why else would she exhibit odd behaviour the day before the doctor’s arrival?

“Other than Dr Goodwin, no one knows Jessica lives here.”

Finlay arched a brow. “Secrets cannot remain hidden forever. Trust me. As the days progress and we examine the evidence, a motive and a malefactor will become apparent.”

Her lips curled into a smile that wrapped around his heart. “I cannot tell you how relieved I am to have you here. I’ve coped so well all these years, but the last two months have been a strain.”

One question burned in his mind. “I understand your motives for hiding Jessica here. What I fail to understand is why you leave her alone at Blackborne for long periods.”

Sophia stared at him, disappointment marring her brow. She moved to the sofa and sat down. When she spoke, she looked him keenly in the eyes. “I sleep here most nights and only return to town to attend key functions, so my presence will not be missed. Since William’s death, I cannot afford to rouse my stepson’s suspicions.”

“Your stepson?” Finlay gave a contemptuous snort. “How you can call him that when you’re only five years older than the fop?”

“You might mock, might think it a ridiculous situation,” she said with a steeliness to her tone, “but one does what one must in a time of crisis. Had I known you were alive, I would have waited. So please, don’t play the pompous ass. It doesn’t suit you.”

Ah, there she was—not the frightened mouse or the arrogant society lady—the woman with a fiery spirit, the woman who sent his temperature soaring, who made him want to satisfy every carnal appetite.

“What role would you like me to play, Sophia?” The need to tease her took hold. “Should I be the dangerous devil most men fear? Should I be the intrepid enquiry agent eager to come to your aid? The raven who keeps your secrets?”

Or the consummate lover who would pleasure her as if no barriers existed?

“Be yourself.”

“And who is that?” He could hardly remember. The man with hopes and aspirations died long ago. And yet he suspected his love for this woman thumped just as wildly in his chest.

She opened her mouth to speak, but the sudden slam of a door stole her attention.