The Scandalous Lady Sandford (Lost Ladies of London 3)

“And what do you want, Fabian?” She shuffled back a few steps and surveyed the vaulted ceiling, the fan of swords on the wall above the dais, and the vast array of antlers displayed as trophies from successful hunts. “Why act the wicked baron and bring me to a castle in the middle of Lord knows where? Had you asked for my help or guidance, I would have given it freely.”

The sound of his given name falling from her lips threw him off kilter although only momentarily. “It is not your help I need.”

She stared at him for a moment and swallowed deeply. “I see.” Those two words held a wealth of pain and disappointment. “You mean to use me in the hope my brother will fall at your feet and do whatever you ask. Am I to be played and discarded like a pawn in your bid to capture the king?”

Guilt surfaced and to cleanse his conscience he thought of Estelle, suffering in squalor for eight years while the world presumed her dead.

“Estelle is alive.” He squeezed the words past the lump in his throat.

A stunned silence filled the vast hall.

“Alive?” Lillian’s eyes grew wide. She jerked her head back and clutched her locket. “But she perished when The Torrens sank off the French coast.”

Fabian’s heart thumped in his chest as he pictured his sweet sister struggling to stay afloat amid a sea of bloated bodies and the remains of the wooden wreckage. “I have every reason to believe she survived.”

“But how can that be?” Lillian shook her head, confusion swimming in her hazel eyes. The lack of light in the gloomy hall made her irises appear earthy brown, yet he knew they were ringed with a hypnotic shade of green. Indeed, he daren’t look too closely for fear of falling under their spell. “Why has she not come home?”

“How can she? She doesn’t know where home is.” Besides his men, few knew the island's location. “When Estelle ran away my father owned Prescott Hall. We lost everything when we invested in your father’s mining venture.”

A cold chill swept over him. He would never forget the pained look on his father’s face when he delivered the devastating news. They’d had no choice but to break the entail as Fabian would have struggled to maintain the property under the burden of such a heavy debt.

A blush touched Lillian’s cheeks. “My father was a frivolous man who cared nothing for other men’s hardships.”

The hint of shame in her voice pleased him. “In that, we agree.”

“Then am I to understand that this impressive building is a recent purchase?”

“My first ship was my home for several years. Now I have the funds to live wherever I please.”

It suited him to live away from the society he despised. Gentlemen were fickle. A lord could rob a man of his wealth and blame it on a bad investment. When a poor man took advantage of the rich, they called him a thief and a pirate.

“And it pleases you to hide away here?”

Fabian straightened. Lillian Sandford had always known what to say to rile him. “What are you insinuating? You may call me a pirate, but do not label me a coward.” He’d beaten men to a pulp for less. “I live here because I cannot bear hypocrisy. I live here because I can do what I damn well please whenever I choose.”

“How fortunate.” Her hazel eyes searched his face, probing, accessing. “Like all birds, the raven is a symbol of freedom. As a woman, doing what I please is a luxury I can ill afford.”

The comment brought about an unexpected tightening in his chest. “Walk with me.” It was a command, not a request. He could no longer stand there looking into those sorrowful pools and pretend to feel nothing.

They left the great hall and climbed the stairs to the top of the keep. Neither spoke though guilt flared when he heard her breathless pants but did not offer his assistance.

He led her to the brazier. The dying flames gave off enough heat to keep the chill in the air at bay. “Look out and tell me what you see.”

Sailors stared at the wide stretch of ocean, their minds engaged in planning their next wild adventure. Lillian gazed up at the full moon, at the stars twinkling in the inky sky. The vastness often made a person feel insignificant. For others, the majesty of it all proved powerful enough to cleanse the soul. Her little sighs and gasps told him she took comfort from the peace and stillness of the night.

“It is hard to comprehend how something so magnificent can exist in such a cruel world,” she said softly. Did she speak of a past suffering, or of her distress upon being kidnapped by a pirate?

“Nature causes just as much devastation as man. Ask anyone who’s sailed during a thunderstorm or been swamped by thirty-foot waves.” He thought of Estelle scrambling to keep her head above the water and quickly sought a way to change the subject. “Hold out your arms and twirl around, but keep your fingers wide apart.”

She turned and frowned at his odd request. “Why?” Perhaps she thought he meant to ridicule her.

“Do it, and then I shall tell you.”

“What, so you may mock me?” She ventured closer to the parapet and peered at the jagged rocks below. “Or is it your intention to make me dizzy? Would it suit your plan if I tumbled over the edge and plunged to my death?”

Panic gripped him. Fabian closed the gap between them. Surely the woman wasn’t fool enough to jump. “I’ve spent eight years blaming myself for Estelle’s death.” Vane was culpable, too. “I’ll not have yours on my conscience.”

“And yet you kidnapped me and brought me here to live with a crew of seafaring men.” She stepped back, an incredulous look distorting her pretty features. “Do you think the matrons will accept me now? In our society, a woman with a ruined reputation may as well be dead.”