Determined to shield his brother from further suffering, Kell disposed of the body on a deserted stretch of road outside Dublin, making William’s death appear to be highway robbery. The investigation that followed pointed accusing fingers at Kell, bringing to light his violent history with his uncle, but the authorities could find no real proof. He refused to deny the rumors that he was the murderer, though. Better to take the blame himself than to have suspicion fall on his young brother.
Even so, Sean had never fully recovered. Having his uncle’s death on his conscience, in addition to his sordid shame, had nearly destroyed him-a torment of the soul that no brotherly words of comfort, no passage of time, could totally assuage.
Kell squeezed his eyes shut as he paused before Raven’s bedchamber door. Despite all his efforts, Sean’s despondence had been inconsolable.
They’d remained in Ireland for two more years before deciding to make a fresh start where the gaming was more profitable. Returning to England, they settled in London. Kell hoarded his winnings and eventually, after a half dozen more years, amassed the funds to open a private gaming club, where the more adventurous members of society came to gamble.
The dark rumors had followed him, however. He still couldn’t refute them without implicating his brother. Nor could he divulge Sean’s terrible secrets. But he could at least try to make Raven understand and win her sympathy.
A light shone beneath her door, and Kell rapped soft
ly. She was reading in bed, he saw when she bid entrance. The startled look on her face clearly proclaimed how unexpected his visit was. Hurriedly hiding her book, she snatched up the covers to her chin, concealing her nightdress from view.
Kell hesitated, wondering if he might be making a mistake, holding this interview in her bedchamber. But this was his best chance to speak to her in private.
“Is something wrong?” she asked worriedly.
“I came to apologize for Sean’s behavior this afternoon,” Kell said, shutting the door quietly behind him.
She stared at him warily as he crossed the room to her. Kell found himself gratified that she didn’t want him there any more than he wanted to be there.
When she remained silent, he pressed his advantage and sat beside her on the bed. Raven froze at his nearness, Kell noted with satisfaction. It would behoove him to keep her on the defensive.
“It is no excuse, I know,” he began, “but I want you to understand something about Sean, how he became the way he is.”
“What do you mean?”
“For some years now he has suffered periods of depression, of melancholy. When he falls into one of his black moods, he won’t eat or sleep, and he drinks far too much. But until his impressment, I truly thought he had his demons under control.”
Kell paused, letting his words sink in. “When he disappeared last June, I was frantic, Raven. I spent months searching for him before I uncovered the harbor manifest of a naval vessel that listed Sean’s name as one of the crew. I hired a private schooner and went after him.
“When I found him he was shackled in the hold, wallowing in his own excrement. His back was a bloody strip of flesh. He had been flogged till his throat was too raw to scream.”
Kell found his own throat closing at the savage memory. “He’s my brother, Raven.” His fingers curled involuntarily into fists. “Perhaps you can understand my grief at finding him so broken.”
“Yes-” she murmured.
“And can you imagine the pain he suffered?”
Her gaze lowered to avoid his penetrating one. “Yes…I can imagine.”
“It sent Sean over the edge, Raven.”
“And you expect me to forgive him because of that?” she asked, her voice barely audible.
“No. Not forgive. But I hope you will have an inkling of what made Sean the way he is now. How deep despair can drive a man to do unspeakable things. He is ill, Raven. How could anyone be in his right mind after that horror?”
When she didn’t speak, Kell put a finger under her chin to make her look at him. “What he needs most is time to heal. I am sending him to Ireland. He won’t bother you again.”
“Thank you.” She shuddered. “I would be happy not to be required to deal with him again.”
“You won’t have to.”
Her blue eyes were dark and solemn as she gazed back at him. Kell suddenly found himself aware of the intimacy of the circumstances. His wife was in bed, dressed in her nightclothes, her midnight hair spilling about her shoulders, the lamplight casting a golden glow over her fine-boned face. Her high-necked nightdress was unrevealing, true, and mostly concealed from view by the covers, and yet he knew very well what lay beneath.
Kell vividly remembered her nude body from their wedding night. He remembered her breasts, licking them, sucking them, teasing them. He remembered her slender legs and how she had mounted him… Instantly he grew hard, and he swore under his breath.
Needing a distraction, he glanced down to where the book she’d been reading was peeking out from the covers. The jeweled cover sparkled in the lamplight. Reaching over her, he picked it up to examine it. He had no doubt he was seeing a magnificent and rare artifact.