The Scandalous Lady Sandford (Lost Ladies of London 3)

He shook his head. “Then allow me to give you some space to grow accustomed to your surroundings. If you have no objection, I shall accompany Mackenzie on a tour of the area. All I ask is that you stay in this room until I return.”

“Of course. Only a lady promised freedom might think she had the right to wander.”

“You shall have your freedom, my lady. Ask anyone here. The Raven never goes back on his word.” With that, Fabian inclined his head. “Will you wait up for me?”

“Do I have a choice? Or are you inclined to make more demands?”

A mischievous grin formed on his lips. “Were I so inclined, I’d seek more than just your company.”

She wanted to offer a witty retort, but the heated look in his eyes stole her breath. “I can’t promise I won’t fall asleep.”

“I can’t promise I won’t try to wake you.”

They stared at each other, neither blinked. It became a battle of wills as to who would look away first. With his eyes still fixed on her, he stepped forward. Lillian swallowed. He bent his head until he was so close their breath mingled in the air between them. “Will you miss me when I’m gone?”

Good Lord, the man was a pirate, with an ability to avoid detection and steal away her soul. To protect her poor battered heart, she had no choice but to sever the connection.

“Mackenzie must be waiting,” she said, stepping back.

“Then I shall bid you good night — for now.”

“Good night, Fabian.” She turned away and strode over to the window. When the door clicked shut, she wrapped her arms across her chest and releas

ed a weary sigh. Being in his company proved tiring as she struggled to fight the obsession she’d held for as long as she could remember.

She opened the arched window that gave a perfect view of the landscape and inhaled the fresh sea air. She must have waited ten minutes before she saw Fabian ride out with Mackenzie at his side. They galloped across the heathland, out of view. A sudden frisson of fear made her shudder. Vane was not a man who skulked in the shadows. Had her brother been aboard the rowboat he would have raced to the castle gates in his hunt to find and punish Fabian.

So that left Doyle. But why would a traitor return to the fold knowing he would receive a hostile reception? What motive could he possibly have other than a desire for vengeance?

Chapter Nine

It was dark when Fabian and Mackenzie returned to the castle. The cold light of the moon illuminated their way. As did the amber flames in the braziers scattered around the bailey. The weather had hindered their search, the relentless downpour lasting for more than an hour. Fat droplets of rain had pelted their cheeks and clung to their lashes making it impossible to see anything more than a few feet ahead.

“Lord, can you credit our luck?” Mackenzie dismounted and thrust his hand through hair more frizzy now than straight. “Only when we return home do the clouds depart to destinations new.”

Fabian swung down to the ground. “Well, at least we know the blackguard’s not hiding in the cottages.”

“Aye, I suppose we should count our blessings as it gave me an opportunity to question Mary.”

“Did you mention the missing food?”

“Och, the woman’s terrified to leave the house for fear someone will blame her for what happened with Doyle.”

“And he’s not stolen ashore to visit her since we cast him out?”

“She says not, and I believe her. I cannot help but feel sorry for the woman.” That came as no surprise. Mackenzie felt sorry for everyone. “From where I stand we’ve two choices. We can suggest she goes to stay with her sister in Truro.”

Mary had been a part of their community for years. It felt wrong to punish her for her husband’s failings. “And the other option?”

“We help her to regain everyone’s trust. We could bring her to the castle. Let her serve as maid to Lady Ravenscroft.”

Fabian considered his friend’s eagerness to help. While Mackenzie’s heart melted whenever he heard a sad story, did his desire to assist Mary stem from more than a need to be kind? “Did you say you knew Mary before she married Doyle?”

A flush crept up the man’s cheeks. Even his ears turned red. “Aye, when she lived in Truro. Her father owned an inn, and she often served food and cleaned tables.”

“And you did not think to court the woman yourself?”

Mackenzie averted his gaze. “Well, I … she’s a good ten years younger. It’s not so much of a problem now as it was back then.”