Raven (Gentlemen of the Order 2)

“Recent demands?”

“Fitzroy wrote to say he expects me to attend a function he’s hosting upon his return to town.” Sophia led him across the dew-soaked grass towards the summerhouse with the cathedral roof. “Since things became difficult here, I’ve ignored all correspondence and rarely venture to town. Perhaps that’s why he sought me out, though heaven knows how he discovered I own this house.”

“When is this function?”

“I cannot recall. There’s a soiree after the performance of Presumption at the English Opera House. It’s a play about the fate of Dr Frankenstein. Mrs Shelley is to attend.”

She hated his foppish friends, and Fitzroy enjoyed making her feel uncomfortable. But she had promised William she would support the young lord until he found a bride. It was a promise she had come to regret.

Finlay stopped walking. “But that’s two days hence.”

“Is it? No wonder Fitzroy is out on the hunt.” And he could only have learnt about Blackborne from one of two people: Dr Goodwin, or her solicitor, Mr Meadows.

She might have considered the matter further had the door to the summerhouse not swung open. Jessica appeared wearing nothing but her white nightdress, a plaid shawl draped around her shoulders. She wore boots—thank goodness—clutched a book in one hand, a lit lantern in the other.

“Jessica!” Sophia was about to charge forward when Finlay gripped her arm.

“Wait,” he whispered. “Do not make her feel as if she has done something wrong. Remain calm. Let me speak to her.”

Sophia nodded. She pasted a smile and waved at her beloved sibling.

Jessica raised the lantern aloft and peered through the gloom. “Sophia?” She crossed the damp grass to meet them, a light spring in her step. “Mr Cole.” A mischievous smile brightened her eyes. “One might ask what the two of you are doing out here in the dead of night.”

What were they doing out here?

Finlay tapped his finger to his lips. “It’s a secret. Promise you won’t tell.”

“Certainly not, sir. I always keep my word. Ask Mr Archer.”

Sophia bit her tongue, knowing she was not supposed to correct her sister’s distorted sense of reality. “Mr Archer knows you almost as well as I do.”

“Not as well as Blent does.”

“Blent?” Finlay kept his tone even though his mind must have exploded with questions. “You cannot spend five years working closely with someone and not know them well.”

“Precisely. Do you know he wanted to be a landscape architect like Lancelot Brown? But they threw his father into debtors’ prison, which put paid to all Blent’s plans.”

Sophia knew of Blent’s history, but not of his lost aspirations. “Blent designed the yew house.” She motioned to the topiary structure large enough for four people to fit inside. “He spends all his spare time in the garden.”

Jessica laughed. “The yew house is the perfect place should a couple wish to kiss in secret.”

“Indeed,” Finlay said. “We will bear that in mind, won’t we, Sophia?”

“Yes.” She was already conjuring images of midnight romps and illicit encounters, already imagining gripping hard muscle while she trembled for release. “We most certainly shall.” The need to discover Jessica’s accomplice encouraged her to say, “I didn’t hear you pass my room on your way out.”

Jessica tapped her finger to her lips and gave a sly smile. She leant closer to Finlay. “I have a key to the servants’ staircase, but don’t tell Sophia.”

“No. I promise to keep your secret.” Finlay cleared his throat. “Let me take the lantern. It looks heavy.”

“It is, though I cannot read in the dark.” Jessica sighed with relief upon handing Finlay the lantern.

“Is that what draws you out here?” Finlay said casually. “The need to read in peace? It must be an excellent book. Might I have heard of it?”

Jessica looked to the gold lettering on the spine. “Castle Rackrent.”

“Maria Edgeworth,” he said. “The narrative explores the argument between rational thinking and sentimentality.”

Jessica nodded. “As Miss Edgeworth says, we cannot judge the feelings or the character of men with perfect accuracy.”