Raven (Gentlemen of the Order 2)

“Miss Draper had an accident that left her mentally unstable. Everyone believes she married some fellow and now lives in India. Lady Adair has kept her sister hidden ever since, but suspects someone is trying to abduct the young woman.”

Finlay explained everything that had occurred at Blackborne, everything except for the passionate kiss in the woods.

Sloane mused over the information while enjoying his potent tipple. “Miss Draper appeared a little overexcited, but I wouldn’t say she suffers from hysteria. When I mentioned mermaids, she offered a logical response, not one born on fantasy.”

“But you see why I needed to remove her from Blackborne?”

“Because you suspect someone in that house is making Miss Draper ill.”

He suspected Dr Goodwin used the contents of his vials to ensure Jessica remained unbalanced, disturbed. It was why he had stolen two samples from the doctor’s bag and would take them to an apothecary he knew in Hyde Street. The motive had to be money. A trip to Godstow would be necessary, too, once he’d determined Fitzroy Adair’s reason for venturing to Blackborne.

“It’s the only logical conclusion.”

Sloane fell silent for a time. “Let’s assume you’re right. The doctor has the most to gain. But from a professional point of view, his failure to help her would harm his reputation.”

“No one knows he attends Jessica Draper.”

Although Sloane’s comment raised a valid point. Why would Dr Goodwin want to move Jessica to a hospital near Oxford if not to assist her recovery? Even if he admitted her under an alias, other physicians would monitor his treatment of the patient.

“The housekeeper’s behaviour is suspicious,” Sloane said. “And what of this fellow Blent? Those who appear helpful and considerate often have something to hide.”

Another thought entered Finlay’s mind. Blent had found Jessica in the deadwood. Blent was the one who always carried her home. No one could corroborate his account. What if he was working with Mrs Friswell and had devious intentions?

Finlay took a drink of wily whistle to ease his frustration. The more time he spent examining the facts, the more questions arose.

“Knowing Jessica is safe here will make it easier to conduct an investigation. And as the days progress, we will gain a better understanding of her mental clarity.”

Sloane coughed into his fist. “The days?”

“You’ve no other case? No other plans?”

“A woman was snatched in Green Park. Sergeant Reeves asked Daventry for assistance. I’m to interrogate the husband, but D’Angelo can deal with the matter.” Sloane sighed. “I’d planned an intimate gathering this evening, but it’s nothing I cannot rearrange.”

In some ways, Finlay wished he was like Sloane, wished he could partake in pleasures without the complicated emotions. And yet there was nothing more satisfying than the intimacy shared by two people in love.

“Do you think you will ever marry?” Finlay suddenly asked.

The rum’s potency must have taken effect. Why else would he probe Sloane about his personal affairs? And Finlay’s confusion over his relationship with Sophia left him scrabbling for answers.

Sloane laughed. “Rum makes the best of men spout nonsense.” As his amusement faded, something akin to regret flashed in his piercing green eyes. “Marriage brings children. Children risk inheriting my grandfather’s wicked ways. Two generations later, and I still bear the stains of his misdeeds.”

Having the blood of a marauding pirate flowing through his veins was the reason Evan Sloane joined the Order. In helping victims of crimes, he hoped to atone for his grandfather’s transgressions.

“Two generations later, and I possess the same damnable restlessness,” Sloane complained. “I crave excitement, need a woman who poses a challenge. I could never settle into the humdrum of family life.”

Humdrum?

Finlay imagined marrying Sophia, a sensual temptress, imagined nights of passionate lovemaking, days spent serving the Order. The scene was anything but tedious.

“Perhaps when you meet a woman who sends your world spinning on its axis, you might think differently.” Not that Finlay had any intention of marrying again. Plato declared that the madness of love was a great blessing. Ballocks! He would rather wallow in ignorance.

“A woman like Sophia Adair?” Sloane taunted. “If your morbid moods and constant pining are an indication, I would rather keep a mistress.”

“I’m not pining.” And yet he was a meandering mess of contradictions. He feigned indifference, but his affection for her coursed uncontrollably through his veins. It ran deep, deep like an underground river—hidden from view, wild and fast-flowing. In the rapids, a man could barely catch his breath.

“I won’t argue with a man who invites Thanatos to dine.”

“Thanatos? I’ve never entertained death.” That wasn’t entirely true.