Cold-Hearted Rake (The Ravenels 1)

Today she would send out inquiries to find a house. With strict economizing, she, Helen, and the twins could live on the income from her jointure. Perhaps it was for the best to make a new beginning somewhere else. Very little good had come to her in the three months she had lived at Eversby Priory. And although Helen and the twins loved the only home they had ever known, they would benefit from a change. They had been secluded from the world for too long… They needed new people, new scenery, new experiences. Yes… the four of them, together, would manage.

But Kathleen was worried about what would become of the servants and tenants. It was a pity too that with Theo’s death, the Ravenel family and its proud legacy had essentially come to an end.

Filled with melancholy, she dressed with Clara’s assistance in multiple layers of petticoats, a corset, and a petite padded bustle. Next came a black crepe dress, fitted close to the body with pleated tiers that draped down the back and ended in a slight train. The dress was fastened down the front with jet buttons, the long sleeves fitted closely to her wrists and finished with detachable cuffs made of white linen. She considered and rejected the idea of a veil, deciding wryly that she and Devon were beyond such formalities.

While Clara arranged Kathleen’s hair in plaits that had been twisted and pinned tightly to the back of her head, she asked cautiously, “Milady, has his lordship said anything about what he plans to do with the staff? Many are worried about their positions.”

“So far he has said nothing to me of his plans,” Kathleen said, inwardly chafing at her own helplessness. “But your position with me is safe.”

“Thank you, milady.” Clara looked marginally relieved, but Kathleen understood her conflicting emotions. After being an upper servant at a grand estate, it would be a comedown to work at a cottage or a set of rented rooms.

“I’ll do what I can to influence Lord Trenear on behalf of the servants,” Kathleen told her, “but I’m afraid I have no sway over him.”

They exchanged bleak smiles, and Kathleen left the room.

As she approached the library, she felt her heartbeat quicken uncomfortably. Squaring her shoulders, she crossed the threshold.

Devon appeared to be browsing over a row of books, reaching up to straighten a trio of volumes that had fallen sideways.

“My lord,” Kathleen said quietly.

Devon turned, his gaze finding hers at once. He was stunningly handsome, dressed in a dark suit of clothes that had been tailored in the new looser-fitting fashion, the coat, waistcoat, and trousers all made of matching fabric. The informal cut of the suit did nothing to soften the hard lines of his body. For a moment Kathleen couldn’t help remembering the feel of his arms around her, his solid chest beneath her cheek. Heat swept over her face.

Devon bowed, his face inscrutable. He appeared relaxed at first glance, but a closer look revealed faint shadows beneath his eyes, and finespun tension beneath his calm veneer. “I hope you’re well this morning,” he said quietly.

Her blush deepened uncomfortably. “Yes, thank you.” She curtsied and wove her fingers together in a stiff knot. “You wished to discuss something before you depart?”

“Yes, regarding the estate, I’ve come to some conclusions —”

“I do hope —” she began, and broke off. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to —”

“Go on.”

Kathleen dropped her gaze to her clenched hands as she spoke. “My lord, if you decide to dismiss any of the servants… or indeed all of them… I hope you take into account that some have served the Ravenels for their entire lives. Perhaps you might consider giving small parting sums to the oldest ones who have little hope of securing other employment.”

“I’ll bear it in mind.”

She could feel him looking at her, his gaze as tangible as the heat of sunlight. The mahogany bracket clock on the mantel measured out the silence with delicate ticks.

His voice was soft. “You’re nervous with me.”

“After yesterday —” She broke off and swallowed hard, and nodded.

“No one but the two of us will ever know about that.”

Even if Kathleen chose to believe him, it didn’t set her at ease. The memory was an unwanted bond with him. He had seen her at her weakest, her lowest, and she would have preferred him to be mocking rather than treat her with gentleness.

She forced herself to meet his gaze as she admitted with vexed honesty, “It’s easier to think of you as an adversary.”

Devon smiled faintly. “That puts us in an awkward situation, then, as I’ve decided against selling the estate.”

Kathleen was too astonished to reply. She couldn’t believe it. Had she heard him correctly?

“Eversby Priory’s situation is so desperate,” Devon continued, “that few men could conceivably make it worse. Of course, I’m probably one of them.” He gestured to a pair of chairs positioned near the writing desk. “Will you sit with me?”

She nodded, her thoughts racing as she settled into the chair. Yesterday he had seemed so resolved – there had been no doubt that he would dispense with the estate and all its problems as expediently as possible.

After she had arranged her skirts and folded her hands in her lap, she sent him a wondering gaze. “May I ask what caused you to change your mind, my lord?”

Devon was slow to reply, his expression troubled. “I’ve tried to think of every reason why I should wash my hands of this place. But I keep returning to the conclusion that I owe it to every man, woman, and child on this estate to try and save the estate. Eversby Priory has been the work of generations. I can’t destroy it.”

“I think that’s a very admirable decision,” she said with a hesitant smile.

His mouth twisted. “My brother calls it vanity. He predicts failure, of course.”

“Then I’ll be the counterbalance,” she said impulsively, “and predict success.”

Devon gave her an alert glance, and he dazzled her with a quick grin. “Don’t put money on it,” he advised. The smile faded except for a lingering quirk at one corner of his mouth. “I kept waking during the night,” he said, “arguing with myself. But then it occurred to me to wonder what my father would have done, had he lived long enough to find himself in my position.”

“He would have saved the estate?”