Outside Carnon Downs – Cornwall
Relief washedover Alec as he spotted the large coaching inn set against the setting sun. A sight for sore eyes, for sure. Stopping for the night and resting his head was most definitely called for. In the morning, he’d only be a day’s ride from Nightshade Manor on the far side of Cornwall. He was almost there. Almost within reach of Poppy Elstone. The thought of seeing her warmed him to his bones as he guided his mare into the courtyard.
As Alec dismounted his ride, a boy rushed from the stables and greeted him with a wide grin. “Stayin’ the night, sir?” the stableboy asked.
Alec agreed with a nod. Then he offered the mare’s reins to the boy along with a coin. “Give her a nice rub down, will you? She’s earned it.”
“Yessir.”
He retrieved his cane from his pack and then started toward the taproom. His stomach grumbled at the thought of a warm dinner.
Just as soon as he entered the taproom, however, his senses were assaulted by the familiar sweet scent of oleander.
Alec stopped where he stood. All thoughts of warm meals and cozy beds vanished in an instant, replaced by a myriad of unwelcome memories of his mother.
Oleander was deadly. No one wore that scent, no one except for the formidable Marchioness of Ravensdale who wore it in defiance of the danger it represented or perhaps to embrace it. The truth was the lethal flower was the perfect representation of his mother – beautiful to look at, deadly to be near.
Momentarily stunned, Alec’s blood went cold as he glanced around the taproom. He didn’t see her, but that scent…
He could not shake the feeling that his mother was near.
If she was of a mind, the marchioness could kill him with a snap of her slender fingers. Even so, he wasn’t afraid of his mother, he just had no wish to be anywhere near her, not for the remainder of his years. He turned on his heel and hobbled from the warmth of the taproom and back out into the chilly courtyard.
A quick glance around the area did not reveal the Ravensdale traveling coach. So perhaps the scent of oleander was an odd coincidence or perhaps he’d imagined the scent entirely. Or perhaps his family’s coach was simply not in view. Whatever the situation, Alec’s adrenaline was coursing through his veins. The last thing he was about to do was stay the night at The Merry Maidens.
The pain in Alec’s leg pulsed anew as he started back toward the stables at a clip, determined to make it to the next coaching inn one way or another. He found the stableboy and made arrangements for a new horse to take him on the next leg of his journey. Then, as he waited for a new mount to be saddled and packed, Alec found that blasted note in the pocket of his greatcoat once more. The weight of it seemed to be like an anvil he could not leave behind.
Damn it all.
Alec ran the pad of his thumb over the familiar Ravensdale crest and finally broke the wax seal.
Dear Alec,
It is with a heavy heart that I find I must write to you. I am afraid the flames of misfortune have surrounded the marquessate and threaten to swallow it whole. However, as you have risen from your own ashes like a Phoenix soaring to new heights, it is my hope that your generosity to the Galbraith family will offer us a much-needed reprieve. You are, of course, to be welcomed back into the bosom of your loving family.
Your brother,
Rhys
Alec re-read the letter.
It was just as startling the second time as it was the first. Ravensdale must, indeed, be on the edge of collapse if Rhys had lowered himself to beg Alec for funds. And how generous Rhys was to welcome Alec back into the arms of his loving family if, of course, he saved them from a financial ruin of their own creation.
Alec crumpled up the note and was not surprised when it burst into flames. After all, Rhys would never allow for there to be a written record of him begging for aid. As the last remnants of the letter turned to ash and then blew away on the wind, Alec scoffed. The whole of the Ravensdale marquessate could burst into flames as well for all he cared. He’d carved out his own path in life and Rhys could do the same.
When the stableboy returned with a fresh horse, Alec handed the lad another coin for his trouble. He secured his pack and cane, then mounted his new ride, and quickly left Carnon Downs behind him.
With the nearly full moon lighting his path, Alec tried to push his brother’s note from his mind. He should keep his thoughts on the matter at hand – arriving at Nightshade Manor in time for the ball – and laying his eyes, once again, on the lovely Poppy Elstone. Memories of her were much more pleasant than—
Wait! He hadn’t imagined the scent of oleander inside that taproom, had he? He didn’t think so. It wasn’t a scent one generally stumbled upon. Still…
Oh, damn it all. That blasted letter was playing with Alec’s mind.
Even so, there wasn’t any reason his mother should be in Cornwall. Unless—
What were the odds that Lady Wharton had invited Mother to her magical ball at Nightshade Manor?
The odds were higher than Alec would like, actually.
