The Scandalous Lady Sandford (Lost Ladies of London 3)

The comment should have given Fabian hope for the future. Indeed it did. But he needed more than a mild expression of affection — he needed her love. A burning passionate love that poets professed was possible. The love Aristotle described as one soul occupying two bodies.

Vane shrank back. “And at no time before reciting your vows did you think to inform me?”

“There was no time. Please, Vane,” Lillian implored. “What if Fabian is right? What if Estelle is alive? After what Father did, surely you owe it to them to offer your assistance.”

“A man is not responsible for the sins of his parents,” Vane countered. “Besides, Estelle chose her fate when she boarded The Torrens with another gentleman.”

It took Fabian a few seconds for the words to penetrate his addled brain. “What the hell do you mean? Don’t shift the blame. Everyone knows Estelle worshipped you.”

“Perhaps none of us are fully apprised of the facts.”

“Then surely it makes sense to find Estelle and put an end to the mystery,” Lillian said with some frustration.

Vane’s lip curled up in disdain. “Husband or not, I’ll not help the man who used you so callously.”

Lillian groaned. “Oh, we are going around in circles.” She threw her hands in the air in resignation. “Come and find me once you have settled this matter like gentlemen. Only then can we sit down and decide what to do about Estelle.” With that, she turned on her heels and strode from the room.

Fabian contemplated asking her to stay. But some things were best said far from a lady’s ears. He waited until Lillian closed the door before speaking again. “What will it be? Shall we roll up our shirtsleeves and wrestle until one of us is the victor?”

“We both know who that will be.”

“I’ve gained experience since we last partook in a little gentlemanly sport.”

“Experience counts for nothing when a man has a grudge to settle.” Fire flashed in Vane’s eyes. Inside, he was hurting. Anyone could see that. Whether it stemmed from his guilt over Lillian, or Estelle, remained to be seen.

“Then you should know that I blame you for Estelle leaving.” The pain in Fabian’s heart had been eased by his growing feelings for Lillian. Still, Vane needed to have his anger beaten out of him if they had any hope of moving forward. “Eight years is a long time to hold a grudge.” Fabian dragged his shirt over his head. “I vowed to make you pay for the part you played, and the Raven never breaks a promise.”

Chapter Sixteen

The group of men standing huddled around the door jumped back as Lillian exited the great hall. Mackenzie stood with them, his anxious face showing concern for the welfare of his master.

“Why is it men act like children when they have a point to prove?” Lillian observed the men’s blank expressions. Why would they understand? They often fought over the last piece of chicken.

“Come on now, move yourselves.” Mackenzie shooed the men out into the bailey. “The work won’t get done if we’re all standing here gaping.” Mackenzie returned to her side. “Do I need to act as referee?”

“No. Give them an hour to settle their grievances in their own way.” Vane’s reaction came as no surprise. She had expected him to bring the roof down. If anything, she was thankful he’d only thrown a few punches. “But I refuse to stand and watch them banter and brawl like schoolboys.”

“It’s clear Trevane has your best interests at heart, and his lordship will do anything to ensure your happiness.”

A smile touched Lillian’s lips despite the loud roar emanating from the ancient room. “You have faith in your master. He is lucky to have such a true and loyal friend.”

The Scot’s cheeks turned as red as his beard. “You know how to make a grown man blush, lass. But happen I don’t deserve your good grace.”

&nbs

p; Lillian put her hand on Mackenzie’s arm. “Do you say that because of what happened at Vauxhall?” Some might say she was far too forgiving, but at the time she’d been too weary to persecute the man for his mistakes. Now, she didn’t see it as a mistake but a fated event beyond anyone’s control.

A chorus of masculine curses reached her ears.

Mackenzie glanced at the studded oak door and tutted. “I know I should feel ashamed for taking you from your home, but I’d heard the way the master spoke of you. I knew his need to bring you here had as much to do with saving himself as it did Estelle.”

The Scot knew what to say to placate her fears. “There was a time when I envisioned marrying Lord Ravenscroft. And now …” Her mind conjured an image of the dark-haired pirate plundering her mouth. She had only to mention his name and her insides performed a series of somersaults. “Now, even after such a short time, marriage to the Raven is everything I hoped it would be.”

Mackenzie covered her hand and gave it a gentle pat. “You should come with us on our next voyage. I can’t see his lordship leaving you behind, and there’s nothing like the sea air to invigorate the spirit.”

While she had no love for long voyages, the thought of being squashed in a cabin with Fabian certainly had appeal. “Perhaps I could bring Mary with me as a companion. Would you like that, Mackenzie?”

“Happen I’d be tripping over my own feet with Mary aboard ship. How’s a man to navigate the waters when his mind is away with the fairies?”