Raven (Gentlemen of the Order 2)

“Try to remain calm.”

Maud’s head breached the surface. The woman tried to breathe but swallowed a mouthful of water. Maud’s limbs must be so cold she lacked the strength to float. And then she sank down, down into the murky depths and never resurfaced.

Chapter 21

Archer was dead.

When a man was shot in the heart from close range, it would take a miracle to save his life. Jessica returned with the linen only to witness the rogue gasp his last breath. She raced into Blent’s arms and cried seven years’ worth of tears.

D’Angelo used the bed sheet to cover the body, to ease Jessica’s distress. Finlay had more pressing matters on his mind. He took to his heels and raced into the great hall, taking a second to determine which exit was best.

Mrs Friswell decided for him.

In somewhat of a hurry, she came limping into the house through the front door, pointing a trembling finger at the courtyard. “Hurry, sir! Hurry!” She released the chatelaine she held in her other hand and moved swiftly forward. “It’s the mistress, sir … the mistress …” Two hounds bounded into the house, nipping at her cloak and tugging for her attention. “Hurry! The mistress followed the maid into the water.”

Finlay’s heart stopped.

His entire life flashed before his eyes in the space of seconds.

Past. Present. Future.

A broken heart. Shattered dreams. Unbearable loss.

“The water?” he snapped. “The moat?”

“Yes, sir, hurry.”

Good God!

Finlay raced outside. Fear threatened to consume him as he followed the hounds to the water’s edge. “Sophia!” Nausea roiled in his stomach. The pain in his throat mirrored the pain behind his eyes as he held his emotion at bay. “Sophia!”

“F-Finlay!”

Thick mist clung to the ground, making it difficult to see where the grass verge ended and the moat began, but the hounds had stopped a few feet ahead, their harsh barks communicating the urgency.

Finlay lay flat on the ground and crawled forward until he reached the edge. “Sophia!” He thrust out his arm. “Can you see my hand?”

“Yes, b-but I’m so c-cold, Finlay. I’m so t-tired.”

Mother of all devils!

There was nothing for it. He’d have to enter the water.

But then D’Angelo appeared behind him. He dropped to a sitting position on the ground and grabbed Finlay’s feet. “Crawl closer. I’ll hold you, stop you slipping into the moat.”

D’Angelo was as strong as an ox and kept a firm hold of Finlay’s legs as they both shuffled forward.

“Can you grab my hand, Sophia?” Finlay grasped at nothing but air.

“No, you’re t-too—” Sophia panicked. She mumbled to herself to keep calm, called out to the Lord and prayed for Divine intervention.

“I’m going in,” he cried to D’Angelo.

“No!” D’Angelo shuffled forward again, giving Finlay another inch. “By the time your muscles relax and become accustomed to the cold, it will be too late. Trust me. I’ll not let you go.”

Finlay crawled forward another inch until his torso hung over the verge. He reached out again and brushed the tips of Sophia’s fingers. Making contact gave him the confidence to advance a little further. This time, he managed to grip her fingers and haul her closer to the bank.

Hellfire!