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Marrying Winterborne (The Ravenels 2)

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“How disappointing. I’m sure I would have made short work of them. Oh, well—in lieu of adventure, at least I’ll have a novel to read.” Picking up one of the volumes, Kathleen read the title and began to laugh. “War and Peace?”

“It’s long and very good,” Helen explained, “and I knew you hadn’t read it yet, since we’ve been keeping it above the sixth shelf in the library. And even if Tolstoy does tend to sour one on marriage, as Lady Berwick claims, you’re already married and it’s too late.”

Still chuckling, Kathleen placed the book back into the valise. “Nothing could sour me on marriage, after the way Devon has been with me. Steady as the polar star, and so very tender. I’ve discovered that I need him even more than I thought.”

“He needs you also.”

Kathleen closed the valise and gave her an affectionate glance. “I’ll miss you so much, Helen. But it will make my heart lighter to know that you and the twins will be enjoying yourselves in London. I expect Mr. Winterborne will be at Ravenel house often, and he’ll do anything short of performing backward somersaults if it would make you happy.” She paused before adding quietly, “He loves you, you know. It’s obvious.”

Helen didn’t know how to reply. She longed to pour out her heart, and confide that no matter how much Rhys loved her, it wouldn’t be enough to overcome the terrible fact of who she was. It would devastate him when he found out.

Forcing a smile, she averted her face, affecting shyness.

In a moment, Kathleen’s arms went around her. “This will be a happy time for you, darling. You’ll have no trouble with Lady Berwick. She’s the most honorable woman I’ve ever known, and the wisest. You and the twins must trust and rely on her while we’re gone.”

“I will.” Helen hugged her tightly. “Don’t worry about anything. We’ll have a relaxing and pleasant time while we wait for you to return.”

ANYONE WHO HAD witnessed the Ravenel family’s drawn-out good-byes would have been forgiven for assuming the group was about to be separated for a period of years instead of weeks. Fortunately, Lady Berwick, who would have deplored the display of emotion, was in her room at the time. Rhys, for his part, had tactfully elected to withdraw to the library to allow the family privacy.

Both Pandora and Cassandra tried to be light and amusing, but when it came time to say farewell, they both became tearful and hugged Kathleen simultaneously, until one could hardly see her small form sandwiched between them. For the better part of a year, Kathleen had treated the twins with a mixture of interest and affection that was undeniably maternal in nature. The twins would miss her sorely.

“I wish we were going with you,” Pandora said unsteadily.

Cassandra gave a little sob.

“There, there,” came Kathleen’s voice from amid the girls’ enveloping embrace. “We’ll be together soon, dear ones. In the meantime, you’ll have a lovely time in London. And I’ll be coming back with a beautiful horse for each of you—just think of that!”

“What if my horse isn’t a good sailor?” Cassandra asked.

Kathleen tried to reply, but since she was still engulfed by the twins, it was difficult to make herself heard.

Amused, Devon stepped forward and pried his wife out of the enthusiastic tangle of arms. “The horses will have padded stalls onboard the ship,” he explained. “There’ll also be wide canvas belts underneath them, like hammocks, to keep them from foundering or falling. I’ll stay belowdecks with the horses to keep them calm.”

“So will I,” Kathleen added.

Devon gave her a warning glance. “As we discussed earlier, my job during the return voyage will be to take care of the horses, while your job is to take care of my future son or daughter.”

“I’m not an invalid,” Kathleen protested.

“No,” he said, “but you’re the most important thing in the world to me, and I won’t risk your safety.”

Crossing her arms, Kathleen tried to look indignant. “How am I supposed to argue with that?”

Devon smiled and kissed her soundly. “You can’t.” Turning to the twins, he took them both in his arms, and kissed the tops of their heads. “Good-bye, imps. Try not to cause too much trouble for Lady Berwick, and take care of Helen.”

“It’s time to leave,” West said from the doorway. “Are you certain you don’t need me to accompany you to the station?”

Devon grinned at his brother. “Thank you, but the carriage will be crowded enough as it is. Moreover, I don’t want to take you away when you should be acting as host to Lady Berwick.”

“Quite right,” West replied blandly, but as he turned, he executed a discreet hand gesture meant only for Devon’s gaze.

“Kathleen,” Pandora said, “Cousin West did that thing with his finger again.”

“It was a hand cramp,” West said quickly, and shot a narrow-eyed glance at Pandora.

Kathleen grinned and went to put her arms around his neck. “West,” she said fondly, “whatever are you going to do when all of us leave you in peace?”

Sighing, West kissed her forehead. “I’ll miss you, damn it.”

BEFORE THE REST of the family departed the next morning, West drew Helen aside for a private conversation. They walked slowly to the conservatory, a room of glass and stone that was lushly crowded with potted palms and ferns. The glazed windows revealed a nearby stand of Weeping Beech trees, their pendulous branches draping and sagging as if exhausted by the tribulations of winter. A flock of plump orange-and-gray bramblings descended from the ash-colored sky to feed on the carpet of beech mast around the gnarled trunks.



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