Ecstasy (Notorious 4)

Only Raven’s aunt Catherine remained in town, and that outraged elderly lady washed her hands of her niece entirely in a scene that three months ago would have set Raven trembling with rage herself. Yet now she couldn’t bring herself to care about her aunt’s defection.

Emma called several times to offer sympathy and support, but the hostess had suddenly become remarkably busy due to the gaming hell’s new notoriety. The Golden Fleece was now all the rage among the ton’s fast set; everyone with any pretense to fashion wanted to be seen there.

Raven thought it best to avoid the gaming hell, for her presence would only stir the scandal further. Besides, the club would bring too many painful memories of Kell.

She’d been dismayed to realize that she loved him, that she had been blindly denying her feelings all this time. She had tried to keep him at a distance, to protect herself with indifference so she wouldn’t be vulnerable to the terrible hurt love could offer. But she had failed miserably. And now, when she had finally understood her own heart, it might be too late.

She wanted desperately to believe that Kell had sent her away because he needed to be alone. That once he’d laid his brother’s tormented soul to rest, his own could begin to heal. But when no word came from him, Raven began to realize she was willfully deceiving herself, that perhaps he truly couldn’t forgive her for his brother’s death.

At least she had another concern to distract her two days after her return, for her grandfather arrived in a show of support. The journey proved a severe strain on Lord Luttrell’s health, as did his anxiety over her. Even though Raven baldly lied and assured him that she was perfectly fine, he continued to fret-voicing distress that she moped around the house all day yet understanding why she dared not show her face in public.

She couldn’t bring herself to ride, either. O’Malley had always been her escort and protector on her early morning rides, and her one excursion to the park with a different groom made her grief all the more piercing. She made certain her horses were properly exercised, but other than periodically visiting O’Malley’s grave, where he’d been buried in a quiet funeral service, she remained indoors.

A fortnight later Lord Luttrell was still fretting over her. He tried to persuade Raven to accompany him to East Sussex, but she wanted to remain in London in case Kell should return unexpectedly.

When her grandfather finally left, however, she was alone again. The days continued to crawl by and still she heard nothing from Kell. The house felt so empty without him. She felt so empty.

Her fantasy lover couldn’t even comfort her, for she no longer wanted her pirate; she only wanted Kell.

The city began to thaw from the cruel winter, but the chill in her soul wouldn’t abate. She started a dozen letters to him, only to tear them all up. What could she possibly say?

Kell wouldn’t want to hear of her love. He had wed her in the first place only to assuage his conscience, and to save his brother from her family’s retribution. And now his brother was dead. His grief would undoubtedly overshadow any tender feelings he held for her.

Even if Kell eventually came to terms with his grief, even if he didn’t hate her or blame her for her role in the tragedy, Sean’s death might be too much for him to overcome, for he would forever associate his loss with her. She would always be a reminder of his guilt.

She wished Kell would write to her, wished he would give her some inkling of what he was thinking. She desperately wanted to end the dread and uncertainty gnawing at her. She didn’t even know if he was all right, or if he had gone to Ireland as intended. He had shut her out of his life completely.

Spring had at last showed signs of emerging when Raven found the courage to ask Emma what she knew of Kell’s plans.

Inviting the beautiful hostess to call on her, Raven forced herself to wait until tea had been served before blurting out the question that had been hounding her. “Have you by chance had any word from Kell?”

Emma lowered her gaze, looking almost embarrassed. “To be truthful, I have.”

Raven felt a hollow ache in her chest. “Is he in Ireland?”

For a moment the hostess gave her a surprised look. “Yes, at his horse farm there. I thought you knew.”

“No. He hasn’t contacted me.” She felt herself trembling and averted her gaze. “Do you know when he means to return to London?”

“Raven, I…I am not certain if he ever means to return. Kell has directed his solicitors to sell the club to me…or rather to Halford.”

Raven stared, trying to absorb Emma’s disturbing announcement. Kell didn’t mean to return to London?

“The Duke of Halford?” she said finally.

Emma’s mouth curved in a faint smile. “It does seem farfetched. But Halford is actually a very kind man,” she said, echoing the same words Raven had once used to describe the duke. “He is purchasing the club for me.”

Raven bit her lip to keep it from quivering.

“I am so sorry, Raven. I can only imagine that Kell wants to be rid of the Fleece because of the painful memories it holds for him.”

“No, you shouldn’t be sorry, Emma,” she murmured. “You aren’t to blame in the least if Kell…” She pressed her fingers to her eyes.

“Are you all right?”

Shaking herself, Raven raised her chin. “Yes, I’m splendid. Why don’t you tell me about your plans for the club? You say Halford is funding its purchase? That must mean you and he are getting along famously.”

Emma’s smile was bashful this time, but she was clearly pleased with her relationship to the duke and by her prospects in the gaming world. Raven was happy for her, and yet she could scarcely keep her mind on the conversation, her heart was in such turmoil.