She swallowed and nodded. “I feel your pain, James. I pray for you, and I even weep for you upon occasion. But most of all, I silently curse the day you met Lady Raven—for she has stolen you from me and Edward. That, no matter her fate, I can never forgive.”
Her wide, blue eyes held his gaze. How could he fault her for loving him, for wanting to protect the man that had acted as her father for so long? Yet, whenever she spoke ill of his ladylove, fury gripped his heart. But he’d never tell her that. Never!
“You must put me out of your mind and find something constructive to do. Plan a trip to London. Or write to your friends, even our aunt who wishes to see you very much.”
“Edward has gone to visit Miss Lucy Jenkins and her parents.”
“Very well. Why don’t you ask that maid—Beatrice—to play faro with you in your bedchamber. As I recall, you’re very fond of that girl.”
“I am, and she is an accomplished card player.”
James gave her a rare smile. “Go then,” he encouraged her. “Leave me to stew in my misery for the night.”
She sighed in resignation and walked to the door. Before she disappeared, he called out to her. “Val?”
“Yes?” She turned around.
“I must ask you not to return until the morning.” Though he spoke gently, it was a firm warning, and she knew it.
“As you wish, James.”
Chapter Three
Once again standingon the balcony, James stared off into the distance, straining to hear the rumble of the waves hitting the shore. During the day, one could see the ocean from the upper story of the manor. It sat gray and boundless on the horizon, a constant reminder of his past and present. Make no mistake, he loved the water. It had sustained his family for centuries, but that unbreakable bond also held him prisoner in the moors. No lord of Darkmoor could shake those chains and go to London for very long.
The enjoyments of that city, all the flesh and drink one could ever ask for, was not enticement enough to keep him away from what he truly loved. Had no choice but to love. He drank greedily from his glass, now filled with whiskey. How he welcomed the oblivion, the unknown place his drunkenness would carry him once he passed out.
The cool air carried him now to a wonderful place full of light and music. A ball room at a country estate in Hertfordshire, where all the ton had gathered to celebrate the engagement of the duke’s daughter. That mattered not to James, for his greatest prize, his heart’s desire was to be there, in his arms and dancing with him, their gazes locked in a passionate stare.
He could smell her, a spicy scent tempered by roses. Her soft curves pressed against his body as he waltzed with her, holding her tight, caring little for what anyone thought. Raven belonged to him. Though he had not bedded her yet, he had claimed her in every other way. With every look and word he spoke, with every touch of his fingers, every smile, every breath—few did not know of their commitment. And if they didn’t, he would be sure to enlighten them quickly, for the Earl of Darkmoor was a jealous man, one who would go to any extreme to protect those he loved.
The music had stopped, and couples were leaving the dance floor, but he lingered with Raven, and she dared to touch his face with her gloved fingers. “What thought just flashed through your mind, James?” she asked quietly.
“Why?” He looked down at her, her dark eyes the color of agate.
“Your brow furrowed, and I know whenever that happens, something weighs upon your conscious. Let me share that burden.”
He led her to the perimeter of the room, wanting to usher her outside and into the duke’s gardens where they might be alone. He had grown tired of stealing kisses in the shadows. He wanted to taste her, to see her delicate flesh under the moonlight. He surveyed the people around them. He was well thought of among his peers, and so was his lady. But her reputation must still be protected.
“Come,” he said. “I will take you back to your mother.”
“Wait,” she pleaded, resisting his pull forward. “What troubles you?”
“Do you really wish to know, madam?”
“Yes.”
He leaned closer and whispered near her ear. “My need to have you will not be sated until our wedding night.”
She flushed becomingly, fully aware of what her nearness did to him. And though he had begged to consummate their relationship, not caring about whether she came to their marriage bed a maiden or not, she wanted to wait until the parson’s noose was firmly about his neck. James did not blame her; what else did a woman have to bargain with but her innocence and beauty?
He smiled and lifted her delicate hand so they could both see it. “What is upon your finger, Raven?”
She stared at the band of gold embellished with six diamonds and a sapphire. It dazzled under the light of the crystal chandeliers. “Your ring.”
“My solemn oath of love and fidelity. But I am still a man, in need of something…”
“Raven!”
