Prince of Ravenscar (Sherbrooke Brides 11)

Julian stopped, walked away from her again to open the back gate. She walked through the gate to find herself on the edge of a scythed lawn, and beyond the lawn was the wood. She was surprised. “I hadn’t realized where we were.”

&n

bsp; “It surprised me the first time I saw it as well.” He added, “Of course, I was only four years old at the time.”

She lightly laid her hand on his forearm. The dark brown wool of his sleeve was soft against her fingers. “Tell me, did you ever suspect her brother, sister, or father?”

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He walked past her to a bank of yew bushes into a small gated garden closed in by trellises and boxwood. To Sophie’s surprise, it held a score of different rock formations, each artfully crafted, some large, some small, all fashioned in geometrical shapes. He walked to a bench and motioned for her to sit, then stood in front of her, looking around. He said, “Nothing has changed since the last time I was here. The baron likes to have rocks brought in and fashioned into different groupings. He fancies himself a mathematician, thus all the shapes.” He paused a moment, then, “Could any of them have shot her? Yes, but why? They were her family.”

“You were as well.”

“I remember after we were only three weeks in Genoa on our wedding trip, she begged me to come back to England. What I didn’t understand was that she wanted to come home—not to Ravenscar but here to Hardcross Manor.

“Every single day she came here. If she didn’t miss them terribly, why did she spend so much time here? Whenever I asked her about it, she simply said she loved her home. Never would she say more, and finally, I simply gave up and let her do as she wished. My mother continued to manage Ravenscar, and I was very busy at the time with my shipping interests, no excuse, but there it is. I am not proud that I spent so much time away from her, but I will admit it was easier to work, to travel to Portsmouth or to London, than watch my wife pull completely away from me. So, yes, my mother was right. There was something different about Lily, but neither of us ever knew what it was. I still don’t know.

“Was I blind? Was it possible Lily did come here to meet a man? Here amongst the rock formations? You see how private a place it is. No one comes here.”

“Julian, let me ask you a question.” At his slow nod, she said, “Have you changed? Or are you now like you were when you were married to Lily?”

He frowned at her, cocked his head to one side. “Changed? I don’t believe so. Why?”

“Because, you simpleton, how could Lily have taken a lover when you were her husband? That is impossible to believe. I mean, look at you, you are beautiful. You are smart. You make me laugh. You are—thoughtful, yes, that is it, you think things through. You are good, Julian. There isn’t a mean-spirited bone in you, though I will admit you can be a superb autocrat. I know that once you make up your mind, no one can budge you—it is many times provoking, but there it is, it is simply part of what and who you are.

“I cannot imagine you did not please Lily, that you could not please any woman, particularly if you loved her enough to marry her.”

He stared at her. Finally, he managed, “I’m beautiful?”

“Ah, of all the things I said about you, you picked out that one. So you’re vain, as well. Yes, you are beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome; it’s nothing but the truth. Is there more?”

Julian shook his head. “I don’t know. I only remember I stared at Richard, shaking my head while he hurled accusations at me. Truth is, I felt nothing at all. Lily lay there dead, yet Richard was shaking, screaming that I was a murderer. I picked her up and carried her through the house, people crowding around me, yelling, crying, trying to talk to me, but I said nothing to anyone. No one tried to stop me, even Richard. I rode back to Ravenscar with my dead wife in my arms.”

Sophie was shaking. She whispered, “I am so very sorry, Julian.”

He nodded. “It happened three years ago this month, actually. I left after I buried her in our cemetery. It was not well done of me, but at the time I simply couldn’t deal with the awful grief, and yes, the guilt. Guilt over what? Because I’d left her alone so much? Because I hadn’t convinced her to tell me what was happening with her? I suppose so. I left my poor mother to deal with the rumors and gossip, Richard’s threats and accusations. The baron shut himself in his library, she wrote me, and didn’t come out for months. What Richard did, I don’t know.

“When I came back last month, my mother told me everyone accepted that Lily had shot herself, everyone except the baron and Richard. She said everyone believed she’d had a lover and he had left her and she couldn’t bear it, and that the guilt and shame led her to kill herself.”

He paused. “I must say it is possible.”

“You will listen to me, Julian. Believe me, no woman would take a lover when you were her husband.” Sophie shook his arms as hard as she could. “It is impossible.”

He lightly touched his fingers to her cheek. He even managed a smile. “Such faith in me, little one.” He studied that beautiful pure face, the shining eyes, filled with the truth of his innocence, her truth. He said slowly, “You are very young, Sophie.”

She reared back and punched him hard in the belly, never looking away from his face. “Yes, but I am not stupid.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I have a special gift, I suppose you’d call it. My mother pointed it out to me when I was only sixteen. I have the ability to see things as they really are, she told me. So I will tell you now, something had obviously happened to Lily, but it had nothing to do with a lover or with some mad stranger or a disappointed suitor who happened to walk into the garden to shoot her. I don’t know what worried her, but it was something profound. Did she kill herself? I don’t know, I can’t quite grasp it.”

“Something profound? I don’t think I will ever know the truth now. It’s been three years. If there are answers lurking about, they are now so deeply buried, how will I ever discover them?”

“I don’t suppose you, Richard, and the baron could all discuss this? Rationally?”