Raven's Shadow (Book 2, the Ravenstone Chronicles) Read online

  “What is your consideration then?”

  “Give me the name of the leader so I may question him myself.”

  “Your insistence of my knowledge is tiresome in the extreme and I think you almost an imbecile to so insist on it.”

  Did she give Mr. Gordon up, the Major would have no more use of her and might well decide to further his own career by giving her up as well. His ambitions were greater than his current position allowed. She needed more time to consider an advantage.

  A cheer went up as the first contestants took their places. They lined up in front of their targets and pulled their bows up. Then the first arrows flew toward their targets and a decisive sound of shafts finding wood struck out across the grass. The spectators clapped and the second flight was readied.

  ‘Very well,” Major Price said.

  But she could tell from his smooth tone that nothing would ever be well again.

  “I shall expect a sum from your share of the proceeds. Half, I think, is fair.”

  “I do believe, Major, you are now entering territory belonging to criminals. Will you be comfortable on our darker side?”

  “I believe the money will make me comfortable indeed. And, Lady Fairchild, do make sure it is half and not any less, or you will become much better acquainted with my darker side as you call it. Be aware that my patience can be bought only for a short period of time. The traitor is near to you. Find him and give me evidence or you shall receive my considerable displeasure.”

  “Why don’t you just tell me who it is you suspect,” she said angrily.

  “Everyone, Lady Fairchild.”

  “You are of no help, so I wish you a good day, Major,” she said dismissing him.

  He kissed her hand, then left.

  Half. The sum was enormous to her for she had indeed been using the money from smuggling to help meet both Ravenstone’s debts and Edward’s. Eight thousand pounds, Major Price had said of one of her husband’s gambling debts. How was it possible to lose so much? When one discovered one was not good at something, one usually stopped. Edward, however, seemed unable to. How is it he had not landed in debtors’ prison yet?

  She needed more money. The wheat prices were high, thanks to the war, but her wool could not be sold in France where prices were best. The newly built cottages now seemed extravagant. She was barely able to pay for their completion along with other mounting debts. She glanced at the lavish spread of food, most of which would go to waste.

  She had hired extra footmen and maids to deal with the house party. Dear Lord, the house party alone was costing a fortune, and she did not want to know how much Edward had lost at cards this week.

  Without the revenues from smuggling, she would be destitute within a month.

  Rupert came running toward her, and flung himself across the air the last few feet.

  “Georgy,” he said excitedly as she caught him, “Nick promised to take me on his ship!”

  “Did he, indeed?” she asked, and turned to glance at ‘Nick’ as he sauntered along with James on his shoulders and Mud at his heels.

  Seeing her, Mud quickened his pace, and like Rupert threw himself down on her lap while Nicholas deposited James on top of the pile. When she had finally extracted herself from small limbs and a wet tongue, she sent them off to find her a morsel to eat, knowing they would be easily distracted. Nicholas sat down next to her, and she remembered another day at the beginning of the spring when they had sat just like that on a blanket.

  “He adores you,” Nicholas said, watching Rupert climb under the table behind Mud and James. “He told me you can throw a knife straighter and faster than any man.”

  “He has such a vivid imagination, doesn’t he,” she smiled innocently.

  “He also said you are a crack shot with a pistol and fast at reloading.”

  “Upon my word,” she sighed. “I must stop reading him all those adventure books.”

  He produced a slow, lazy smile, his eyes on hers, and she could see he didn’t believe a word she said.” Want to know the strangest phenomenon about children his age?”

  “No,” she said.

  “They rarely lie, and when they do, it’s usually easy to tell. You, on the other hand, are as skilled at lying as you are at knife throwing and shooting it would seem. My father taught you how to shoot and you were exceptional then. I imagine you are even better now.”

  “I thought Rupert was supposed to be asking the questions of you,” she said frowning.

  “Oh, we had a nice long chat,” he said and smiled. “What advantage do you gain from such a rare accomplishment as knife throwing?”

  “Why so I may excel at cutting roses from a sitting position,” she smiled.

  He turned to look at the competition under way and waved to Caroline who watched them.

  “You are in the Major’s company often.”

  “Are you perhaps jealous?”

  “Terribly.”

  “And you soon to be a married man.”

  “That is a circumstance you created,” he said. “It does not change how I feel about you, Georgiana. Nothing can. I wish that it were otherwise.”

  “You will not always love me,” she said, confident. “That is the beauty of love, it is inconstant.”

  He smiled at her, so sure of himself, and his own charm. “You are considering that what I feel for you is common. Let me assure you it is not.”

  “And Caroline?” she asked.

  “She will be a good wife.”

  “And you?” she smiled. “Will you be a good husband, I wonder?”

  “The best.”

  “That’s wonderful,” she said, trying to hide the jealousy she felt under a mask of indifference. “I wish you both great joy.”

  He studied her a moment, then said, “Do you?”

  “Yes,” she said, trying to mean it.

  He fell silent and she burned with feelings unsaid. She wished suddenly she had never allowed herself to be with him. He had spoiled being alone for her. Her thoughts constantly strayed to him, and she sat there so close to him, wanting to put her lips to his, and make him forget his promise to another. He was not for her, she knew but the longing did not stop now that she knew what it meant to be with him.

  “Georgy,” he said softly, using his old nickname for her.

  “Nicholas, if you have any compassion you will not go further,” she said, her voice breathless as she tried to control her conflicting emotions.

  Would he say he would break his engagement, that he loved her too much to marry another woman? She wanted him to say all those things suddenly.

  “I meant only to ask that you pass me one of those apples?” he said, pointing to the basket next to her.

  She frowned. “You want an apple?”

  “Yes, I find the apples you grow here have just the right amount of sweetness in them.”

  Her frustration turned to anger. Pretending to be paralyzed was starting to really annoy her, for she longed to be able to kick him.

  “Never, sir,” she said.

  “You are all politeness today.”

  “Go away, Nicholas.”

  “What a charming amusement this day is proving to be.” He stood up and strolled toward the tournament as if he had no care in the world.

  She picked up an apple and flung it as hard as she could at his head, but it hit him on the shoulder. He turned around scooped it from the grass, and then took a bite. Laughing, he continued on to Caroline’s side.

  “It’s your turn,” Rupert said loudly, running toward her as he took her hand and tried to pull her toward the competition.

  “Rupert, stop,” she said and pulled him closer. “What happened to the food you were supposed to bring me?”

  “But it’s your turn.”

  She watched Nicholas, wanting to scream at him to come back, but also never wanting to see him again. How was it possible to have both sentiments be equally strong? she wondered.

  “I can’t have a turn,” s
he said, and Rupert tried to push her from behind.

  “Yes, you can,” he said. “I’ve seen you.”

  “But not today, Rupert.”

  He let go of her, and standing in front of her, he placed his feet together and crossed his arms to scowl at her. She could have kissed the little devil for she suddenly felt like laughing at the sight of his face.

  “I told everyone you are the best, and now they will not believe me.” He crumpled down next to her, folding his body into a dejected lump, and gave her a look of misery. “Nick will win,” he sighed, his small face in his hands.

  “But he hasn’t even had a turn. How do you know that?”

  “He is good,” he said, simply and shrugged.

  “That can’t be so bad, can it?”

  “But Papa bet a wager for me that you will win.”

  “He did what?”

  Rupert nodded his head. She glanced toward where the gamblers sat, and saw that they were indeed laying down bills on the table.

  “How much?” she asked.

  He shrugged again.

  “Go fetch your papa,” she said.

  He looked up at her. “He is in trouble?”

  “He is in trouble.”

  Rupert’s smile returned, and he skipped off to fetch his father.

  ***

  She looked at the scoreboard to see that Nicholas was indeed one of leaders, with Dorothea and Major Price. A thousand pounds was not money she had to lose, and she cursed Edward, as she lifted the bow and pulled the arrow straight back. Damn his debauched hide.

  She released the arrow and it flew through the air and landed with a satisfying thwack. There was polite applause as she pulled her second arrow back and released it. Being in the sitting position gave her a disadvantage, but she used her anger to fuel her efforts, and continued to let arrow after arrow fly without waiting to see if or where they hit until her quiver was empty. When she finished, she sat back and rested her arm while her score was tallied.

  Edward clapped her on the back. “Georgiana, I should have bet more.”

  “It is her first round,” Dorothea said to her sister, sounding annoyed. “The next will be more challenging as her arm will have tired.”

  As her points were tallied, Georgiana glanced at Nicholas, who sat on a blanket amongst the spectators with Caroline next to him. With her target free of arrows, it was moved twenty yards farther away, and she was given another quiver. As before, she let them fly without taking the time to see if they hit. This time she was more careful and made sure a few arrows hit the inner two circles. Dorothea seemed even less pleased.

  As her points were tallied, she took a break now for her arm really was tired. She calculated exactly how many points she was short. As the last competitor before the final round, she easily established what she needed to score to be one of the four finalists. She was already well on her way, but would have to do really well at hundred yards to make the final round.

  On the third round, she pulled her first arrow and took her time. She paced herself on this round, making sure to place each arrow exactly. She made it into the final round by two points, which placed her last of the best four.

  For the final round, the competitors lined up with Georgiana at the furthest space, then the Major next to her, Dorothea and Nicholas. They shot their first round and the points were tallied. She inched ahead of both Dorothea and the Major but remained many points behind Nicholas. That put her in the final round with him, but she would still have to shoot an almost perfect round to beat him.

  She waved Dixon over and Edward so they could switch her chair for her to face the other direction. Then she put the bow in her left hand to pull with her right.

  “If you are tired, we can wait a moment for your arm to rest,” Nicholas said, frowning at the sudden reversal of her shooting hand. “You put yourself at a disadvantage, using your weaker eye.”

  She smiled at him, and raising her bow, she turned her gaze to the target and let her first arrow fly. It hit the bull’s eye, and the watchers were silenced.

  “The other was my weaker eye,” she smiled sweetly. “I believe it is your shot, sir.”

  He laughed then, raising his bow, he let his arrow loose to see it land well enough to maintain his lead.

  Her second arrow was again a bull’s eye and his lead was fast disappearing. Rupert jumped in the air, celebrating, and Mud joined him. Nicholas continued to shoot well and she began to worry. It became clear that no matter how well she did, he was always able to keep ahead. She avoided making any mistakes and soon they were left with two arrows and she had caught up all the points but two.

  Her next arrow did not land as she had hoped and she tried hard to not show how much it affected her. Nicholas again shot well, and pulled ahead again, and she had one arrow left. Even if she hit the target perfectly she would need Nicholas’s last arrow to hit well outside the center to win. It could happen, she told herself, and tried not to think about the money she could not afford to lose. She should have done more in the beginning to catch up for now she realized her arrogance might have lost her the game.

  She raised her bow and held her breath trying to focus on the far away dot of red. If she took too long, her hand would begin to shake. She released the arrow, shutting her eyes and waited. Then she heard Rupert celebrating, and the rest cheered and she opened her eyes to see Nicholas watching her. She turned to the target and sighed in relief.

  Now it was up to luck. Would Nicholas’s shot go amiss? He turned away from her, and raised his bow, taking his time. She crossed her fingers in the folds of her skirt, and prayed. She watched the arrow leave his bow and fly through the air to land outside the center. She stared at it in amazement. He had done a perfect job of aiming exactly where she would win without creating suspicion that he had let her do so. And yet she knew. She turned to look at him, and he bowed to her, not meeting her eyes before strolling away.

  Rupert and James raced up to her and performed a victory dance around her with Mud following them, barking.

  “Superior,” Edward smiled. “A true victory for our side. I say, I had no idea you were so skilled with a bow, old girl. You might have told me, so the money could have been more.”

  “How much did you win?” she asked.

  “Dear me, it would not do to talk of such matters,” he said, raising his eyebrow as the boys made off with her bow, holding it high for all to see.

  “How much?” she asked, her voice angry.

  Her tone ended any more glib remarks.

  ‘Are you quite steady?” he asked, frowning. “Perhaps too much heat and excitement? Do you need to lie down?”

  “Dixon,” she said. “Could you take me to the study, please?”

  “Good idea, pet,” Edward smiled.

  “You,” she said to him, her eyes blazing, “will escort me there.”

  “Of course,” he said, frowning. “Only too happy. Lead the way, Dixon.”

  She put a smile on her face as Dixon carried her through the gathering of guests who congratulated her. He put her on the settee in the study, which should have been Edward’s domain, only it was hers as he spent no time in it. He followed her inside and fluffed a pillow for her, trying to mollify her.

  “Dixon, shut the door on your way out.”

  “Edward, sit down,” she said firmly.

  He studied her a moment then settled himself opposite her.

  “You must stop gambling,” she said.

  He laughed, which was not the reaction for which she had hoped. She had not thought this conversation would be easy, but laughter meant the challenge was worse than she had expected.

  “Impossible. You might as well request of me that I stop breathing. For me they are one and the same.”

  “I cannot afford to keep paying your debts,” she said angrily. “Putting the estate to rights took a considerable amount of the money my father had stipulated would be my dowry. That money is gone now and we have only that left which is pa
id out annually.”

  “I cannot see where the fault lies.”

  “The fault, Edward, is that ten thousand a year is enough to keep a London house and a country estate if that estate has some revenue to contribute to its upkeep,” she said angrily, her eyes flashing.

  “However, the revenue this year has been dismal. I cannot sell the wool on the Continent where it fetches the better price because we are at war. The wheat prices are favorable but not enough as the shortage of labor has meant I had to pay for extra workers to get the harvest in. I have no money from the rents because Mr. Madden steals it all, and you have decided to host a house party for an entire week, which means lavish dinners and parties and more servants.

  “There is no money left, Edward, and you continue to throw it away gambling every night, so that you can play the upper class dandy with too much time on your hands, and no sense at all. I receive letters from my mother for your spending has reached such proportions of late that society has taken notice. I am afraid to ask how much debt you are accumulating in London for fear of the answer. It must stop for we have not the resources to keep you from debtors’ prison should this continue.”

  The silence that followed seemed laden with emotion, but she did not care. He was a fool and she would suffer damnation before she would allow him such folly without giving him some words of recrimination.

  “I had no knowledge of the dire situation.”

  “How could you?” she snapped. “You disappear to London for your entertainment and the luxurious life of a gentleman, sleeping late, strolling through the park and off to the club for dinner before the serious entertainment commences in some house of ill repute or gambling den. You arrive home in the late morning hours to sleep, then repeat all again in some bizarre never ending ritual that is completely meaningless.”

  He sat staring at his brightly polished boots until she had finished. Then he lifted his gaze. Noticing a small piece of grass on his velvet sleeve, he picked it up between his thumb and forefinger and delicately dropped it on the carpet. “Do you have any idea how ugly you become, when you play the bitter old harridan?” he asked, finally looking at her.