Nicole Jordan - Ecstasy

“Shall we depart, then? The sport is far better at your club.”

Agreeing, Kell accompanied the marquess downstairs, but they spoke of inconsequential matters until they were seated in Dare’s carriage.

“I haven’t thanked you adequately for your intervention on my behalf,” Kell said then.

Dare waved a hand. “Think nothing of it. I would have acted for Raven’s sake, even if I had not come to like you. I very much want her to be happy.” He gave Kell a studied glance in the dimness of the carriage. “You needn’t be concerned about my relationship with your wife,” he added pointedly. “I think of Raven as a beloved younger sister.”

“You relieve my mind,” Kell remarked, his tone lightly mocking although inwardly he was quite serious.

Dare hesitated. “To be frank, I am glad for the opportunity to speak to you alone.”

Kell felt himself stiffen, uncertain where this conversation would lead.

“I confess,” Dare said, “I wasn’t entirely displeased when Raven was compelled to wed you. She and Halford were completely ill-suited. In the long run, I believe you will be a far better choice for her.”

Kell eyed the marquess skeptically. “You think me a better choice than a lofty duke?”

“Without question. You are much more likely to appreciate Raven’s unique qualities. She has more spirit than any dozen other women combined, even if she’s endeavored to repress it since coming to England.”

She did indeed have more spirit, Kell agreed silently. A bright spirit that was irresistible.

“She has worked quite hard at attempting to fit in, trying to mold herself into what her mother wished her to be.”

“And what was that?”

“A milk-and-water miss who’s ruled entirely by propriety,” Dare said with an edge of derision.

“You seem to know Raven well.”

“I am privy to some of her secrets.”

“Her secrets?”

“She would probably have my head for telling you this, but I think you should know about her past. Her half brother Nicholas informed me so I would be better prepared to look after her.”

Dare proceeded to tell about Raven’s mother and her passionate love for a married man, about Elizabeth conceiving a child out of wedlock and being forced to wed a younger son she disliked.

“So Kendrick was not Raven’s real father?” Kell asked thoughtfully.

“No. Raven rarely speaks of him, but I gather there was no love lost between them. She cherished her mother, though. Before she died, her mother made her promise to wed a noble title. I expect Elizabeth feared the scandal might catch up to her daughter one day and wanted Raven to have the protection of rank and position, even though Nick made certain she inherited a substantial income from her real father. Wealth can make up for a multitude of sins but not questionable bloodlines.”

“How well I know,” Kell said darkly.

He fell silent, remembering Raven’s remark about not wanting children-her concern about conceiving a child without a father who would love and care for him. Was her reluctance because of her own experience?

Kell frowned. He wasn’t all that certain he wanted children himself. There was enough bad blood in the Lasseter line to fear passing it on to his offspring. His uncle for one, and his brother Sean…

He recollected himself as Dare spoke again.

“Despite your lack of a title, you could be precisely what Raven needs.”

“You’re not concerned I might do her harm?”

“Not in the least. I’ve seen how you look at her.”

“Like every other besotted sap who sets eyes on her, you mean.” Kell’s mouth twisted. He couldn’t deny that his worst fear had come to pass: He’d been bewitched by the bride he’d planned to ignore. “I suppose you have a reason for confiding Raven’s secrets,” he said finally.

“I do,” Dare admitted. “I consider you a highly intelligent man. If you understand what drives her, you will know better how to deal with her. Raven is passionate in everything she does. If she came to care for you when you couldn’t reciprocate…I would not like to see her heart broken.”

“Raven is the one known for breaking hearts,” Kell retorted dryly. “I expect I’m in far greater danger than she is.”

“Even so…if you don’t think you can care for her, then it would be best if you simply kept away from her.”

It was Kell’s turn to hesitate. “I’ve been invited by her grandfather to spend the holidays with Raven at his estate.”

Dare raised an eyebrow. “Luttrell must have elected to accept your marriage, then. Do you intend to go?”

“I have yet to decide.” Surprisingly, Sean had written of his desire to remain in Ireland over Christmas, and Kell was uncertain about whether to join him or to allow his brother the distance he seemed to crave.

“You are more than welcome to come with me to the Wolverton family seat for the holidays,” Dare said. “Frankly, I would enjoy the company, for this visit will be purely obligatory. I’ve been there only once since I inherited from my grandfather, because it holds so many unpleasant memories of the old bastard. You would be doing me a favor.”

“Thank you. I’ll keep your offer in mind.”

Gazing out at the dark streets, Kell sank into contemplation. He had unpleasant memories as well, both of his bastard of an uncle and of Christmas. It was during the Christmas holidays that he’d come home to discover the terrible truth about his poor brother. And then they’d fled to Ireland and to the misery of living on the streets-certainly the worst time of his life.

He didn’t want to endure Christmas alone. Whether or not he should risk spending it with Raven, however, was an entirely different matter. Raven left him so dangerously vulnerable.

She’d shown little enthusiasm about his accompanying her to her grandfather’s. And then there were his brother’s feelings to consider. Sean would be furious if he returned to find his prediction had come to pass-that Kell had fallen for the very woman Sean blamed for causing his misery.

Mentally Kell shook his head. He couldn’t continue letting his brother rule every aspect of his life, especially one so personal as his marriage. And despite the danger, he wanted to go.

The temptation of being close to Raven for even a short while was relentless, overpowering. He was like a possessed sailor being lured by a siren’s call toward the lethal rocks. He couldn’t turn away.

Kell pressed his lips together in a grim line. It was no doubt madness, but he intended to accompany his wife to the country for the Christmas holidays. And God help him if he couldn’t prevent his desire for her from swelling out of control.

If Raven hoped to avoid intimacy with Kell during the Christmas holidays, she realized her mistake the moment she set foot in his traveling coach.

Her grandfather’s estate in East Sussex was only some forty miles south of London, but spending a good part of the day alone with Kell gave her more opportunity for private conversation than in all the weeks of their marriage. Regrettably O’Malley wasn’t on hand to keep the discussions impersonal, for he rode in a second carriage with the other servants-her maid and Kell’s valet.

The frigid weather didn’t help her keep her distance, either, for the coach windows had to remain shut against the light snow that was falling. Unaccustomed to such chill temperatures, Raven couldn’t refrain from shivering, despite the hot bricks at her feet and several woolen carriage robes.

“I never realized winter could be so cold,” she complained, watching her breath frost on the interior of the panes.

“The West Indies isn’t exactly renowned for its snow,” Kell replied, amused.

“No. Until I came to England, I never even saw snow.”

“It will likely get far worse than this. Come here,” he ordered, holding out his arm.

She protested when Kell drew her into the shelter of his body to share his warmth, but then he asked her about winters in the British West Indies, and somehow Raven found herself telling him about growing up on the Caribbean isle of Montserrat and revealing confidences she never intended to-about playing pirate on white crystalline beaches and swimming in aquamarine seas and galloping over green, green hills.

“I’ve heard that Montserrat resembles Ireland somewhat,” Kell remarked thoughtfully.

“I wouldn’t know since I’ve never been to Ireland, but the largest number of settlers on the island are indeed Irish. Did you spend much time in Ireland when you were young?”

She immediately regretted her question, though, for it was unsettling to hear Kell tell of visits to Ireland when his parents were still alive, especially when she caught his dark eyes smiling with fond memories.

“From the time I was a babe, my mother regaled me with tales of the wee folk, so whenever we visited, I spent most of my waking hours hunting them.” His self-deprecating grin held an irresistible appeal. “I vow I believed in leprechauns until I was nearly a grown man.”

Raven shifted restlessly and eased herself from Kell’s embrace, claiming that she was warm enough. Even if it was a lie, she knew she would be wiser to maintain a formal reserve between them.

The situation grew even worse when they arrived at the Luttrell estate. There were some initial awkward moments when his lordship greeted Kell, and Raven worried that she would have to come to her husband’s defense. Then they were shown upstairs and she discovered her grandfather had allotted them only a single bedchamber, even though there were dozens of empty guest rooms throughout the huge manor.