Page 13 of A Raven Repents

The man jumped to his feet and rushed around the desk. “Oh, thank God.” He tried to look around Giles. “Is she with you?” he asked desperately.

“No.” He enjoyed a moment as the man panicked.

“But she said… The note said…” He pressed a hand to his forehead. “She was supposed to be with you.”

“Well she’s not. But she is safe.”

Mr. Pelham blew out a breath of relief. He must care about her at least a little, even if he was a terrible father with a gambling problem.

“Did you marry her? The letter said she was going to elope with you.”

“I did. No thanks to you.”

He dropped back into his chair, still trying to catch his breath. “At least she’s safe. You will be good to her, won’t you?”

Giles sighed. “Better than Lord Chilton would have been.” He pulled out the stack of vowels he’d spent the day paying off and dropped them onto the desk.

It took the man a moment to figure out what they were, but as understanding dawned, his jaw dropped. “You paid them?” He shuffled through the pages. “All of them? Why would you do that for me?”

“I didn’t do it for you. I did it for my wife.” The word grated at him, but he wanted this man to understand that she was no longer vulnerable to his influence. “And let me make something very clear. I will not do it again.”

He continued to look at the papers in disbelief. “Thank you.”

“I suggest you give up the gambling, Pelham. Next time, you’ll be at the mercy of the debt collectors.”

“I will,” he said with a nod. “May I see her?”

He’d changed his tune since the night of the ball. Polite and respectful. Giles thought through his options. Christina wasn’t his prisoner, but he didn’t trust this man as far as he could throw him. “You may. You will not be welcome to stay the night, and your visits will be supervised by someone on my staff.” He scrawled the direction on a piece of paper on top of the desk. “If I hear of any trouble you will not be allowed another visit.”

He didn’t wait for a response, simply turned and strode from the room. Hopefully that was the last time he would ever see the man. Now, his life could officially go back to how it was before he got trapped into marriage. Everything was going to be just fine.

Christina sat in the drawing room, sipping tea. She felt stuck. She hadn’t even dared to explore most of the house yet. For some reason the prospect was too daunting. It was lonely, despite the numerous servants. But she was used to being alone, since her father was often gone. So perhaps it was just the strangeness of the house that made her feel that way. Or its size. Despite her lack of exploration, she had no question of its immenseness. There was nothing cozy about the place. Large, cold rooms with high ceilings, and almost no color or softness. Except in her bedchamber. The few other rooms she’d visited had been nothing but leather and wood. So much wood. In this one, even the walls were paneled with it. Surely, some paint and pastel curtains wouldn’t go amiss.

“A letter for you, Mrs. Henderson.”

“Thank you, Thomas.”

Finally, a reply from Lavinia. She tore the note open and scanned the message. She was coming to stay! Apparently, it didn’t matter that Christina had eloped, now that she was married to a rich man. Otherwise, Lavinia’s mother would never have allowed her to come. Society was so fickle. If she’d eloped with someone less wealthy, her reputation would have been irreparably damaged. But money had a way of making anything acceptable.

In truth, they weren’t even fully married. They hadn’t consummated their union, and they certainly weren’t living as husband and wife. He’d merely given her his name and then abandoned her at his home. Not that she was complaining. It was peaceful without him. The staff had been welcoming and kind. And this morning, a dressmaker had appeared, unannounced. It would seem, even tucked away in the country, he couldn’t have his wife looking like a pauper.

But again, she shouldn’t complain. Her wardrobe was sparse and quickly becoming outmoded. It had been years since she’d last bought a new gown. And her husband had apparently not set any kind of limit or budget. Soon, she’d have new dresses and undergarments. New shoes, stockings, gloves, and hats. The dressmaker had even talked of riding habits.

Were there horses here?

Of course there were. A house this size would be surrounded by land.

Was she allowed to go riding on her own? She shrugged to herself. With her husband gone, there was no one to tell her otherwise. After she finished her tea, perhaps she’d do just that. She would at least have a look around outside. Perhaps some sunshine on her face would chase away some of her doldrums.

But just as she’d set down her cup, the butler came through the doorway. “Your father is here, Mrs. Henderson. Would you like me to show him in?”

Her breath caught in her lungs. “Yes, please.” She didn’t want to face him yet. He must be hurt and angry, and probably in a panic. Oh God, what was he going to do now that she was married?

But when he walked through the door, he didn’t look angry. In fact, he looked more bright-eyed than she’d seen him in a long time. She stood, and stared wordlessly at him, her heart hammering.

“May I join you?” he asked, after a long moment of silence.

“Yes, of course.” She fluttered awkwardly toward the opposite chair.