He had fooled himself, though. The deep ache of desire hadn’t eased even after their nights of passion. Raven’s allure was as potent at ever. And her fantasy lover still claimed her allegiance.
Cursing, Kell tossed back the rest of his brandy.
Just then he saw Dare making his way toward him and felt another involuntary twinge of jealousy. He was jealous of the marquess and his easy relationship with Raven, for Dare shared her confidence and trust. Even Halford had a stronger claim to her affection than he himself did.
He would have pref
erred Raven to associate less with both men, but he could hardly order her to cut the connections. He didn’t have that right. Whatever his feelings of male possessiveness, he would have to control them. Their marriage was merely one of convenience. It would be lunacy to develop any deeper emotions toward Raven, for she wouldn’t allow herself to reciprocate.
He schooled his features into impassivity as Dare sat beside him.
“I must apologize for the spectacle,” Dare said with an elegant grimace. “Such juvenile deportment can be so tiresome. I suspect it interests you no more than it does me.”
“I prefer a more private performance, I admit.”
“Shall we depart, then? The sport is far better at your club.”
Agreeing, Kell accompanied the marquess downstairs, but they spoke of inconsequential matters until they were seated in Dare’s carriage.
“I haven’t thanked you adequately for your intervention on my behalf,” Kell said then.
Dare waved a hand. “Think nothing of it. I would have acted for Raven’s sake, even if I had not come to like you. I very much want her to be happy.” He gave Kell a studied glance in the dimness of the carriage. “You needn’t be concerned about my relationship with your wife,” he added pointedly. “I think of Raven as a beloved younger sister.”
“You relieve my mind,” Kell remarked, his tone lightly mocking although inwardly he was quite serious.
Dare hesitated. “To be frank, I am glad for the opportunity to speak to you alone.”
Kell felt himself stiffen, uncertain where this conversation would lead.
“I confess,” Dare said, “I wasn’t entirely displeased when Raven was compelled to wed you. She and Halford were completely ill-suited. In the long run, I believe you will be a far better choice for her.”
Kell eyed the marquess skeptically. “You think me a better choice than a lofty duke?”
“Without question. You are much more likely to appreciate Raven’s unique qualities. She has more spirit than any dozen other women combined, even if she’s endeavored to repress it since coming to England.”
She did indeed have more spirit, Kell agreed silently. A bright spirit that was irresistible.
“She has worked quite hard at attempting to fit in, trying to mold herself into what her mother wished her to be.”
“And what was that?”
“A milk-and-water miss who’s ruled entirely by propriety,” Dare said with an edge of derision.
“You seem to know Raven well.”
“I am privy to some of her secrets.”
“Her secrets?”
“She would probably have my head for telling you this, but I think you should know about her past. Her half brother Nicholas informed me so I would be better prepared to look after her.”
Dare proceeded to tell about Raven’s mother and her passionate love for a married man, about Elizabeth conceiving a child out of wedlock and being forced to wed a younger son she disliked.
“So Kendrick was not Raven’s real father?” Kell asked thoughtfully.
“No. Raven rarely speaks of him, but I gather there was no love lost between them. She cherished her mother, though. Before she died, her mother made her promise to wed a noble title. I expect Elizabeth feared the scandal might catch up to her daughter one day and wanted Raven to have the protection of rank and position, even though Nick made certain she inherited a substantial income from her real father. Wealth can make up for a multitude of sins but not questionable bloodlines.”
“How well I know,” Kell said darkly.