Nicole Jordan (38 page)

Shaking with fear as well as cold, Raven strained futilely against her bonds. She wanted desperately to help Kell but had no idea how without proving a lethal distraction. She cried out when Sean clawed at his brother’s face, nails raking blindly, but Kell twisted his head and eluded the vicious attack. Somehow he even managed to wrest the foil away, thank God.

Her gratitude came too soon. Sean swung a savage blow that connected with Kell’s cheekbone. Then, rolling free, the younger man lunged to his feet and staggered across the snow-packed ice, heading toward the center of the small lake.

Kell went after him. He had nearly caught up to his brother when the ominous groan of cracking ice reached Raven’s ears. Sean suddenly lurched forward as first one leg, then the other, broke through the frozen surface.

Raven clutched at the railing, her heart leaping in horror as he disappeared into the icy water.

“Sean!” Kell’s cry was nearly whipped away by the gusting wind. Dropping to his knees, he crawled toward the jagged hole in the ice.

Sean’s head appeared, his mouth wide with shock and gasping for air, his arms flailing. His fingers found purchase on the edge of the ice just as Kell stretched himself full length.

Raven’s vision was hampered by the swirling snow, but she could see Kell straining to reach for his brother, urging Sean to take his proffered hand.

For a moment it looked as if he would succeed, but then Sean struck out fiercely, fighting the very man who was trying to save him.

“Sean!”Unwilling to give up, Kell tried again, clutching at his brother’s shirt.

Resisting, Sean grabbed Kell’s arm with both hands to fend him off. Raven drew a painful, gasping breath, knowing Sean could drag Kell under with him, drowning them both.

For the space of a dozen heartbeats, neither of them yielded. Raven bit her lip till it bled, but she could only watch in terror as the silent battle raged between the two brothers.

Kell’s arm was submerged up to his shoulder, the other braced against the ice when she saw Sean’s mouth form the word, “Please…”

He was pleading for release, she realized.

His jaw clenched, Kell refused to let go, but then he gave a sudden jolt. The edge of the hole had broken off, upsetting his balance. With a jerk, Sean wrenched free. An instant later, he sank below the surface of the lethal water, vanishing from view.

Kell froze, staring in denial as Raven watched. When long moments passed with no sign of his brother, he squeezed his eyes shut in agony. The cry that tore from his throat was the keening of a wounded animal.

Raven gave a sob as well as another ominous crack sounded from the surface of the lake. The ice was fracturing beneath Kell’s weight. Dear God, if he fell through, the frigid water would swallow him up the way it had his brother….

Rasping Kell’s name, she rushed across the gazebo and down the treacherous steps, nearly falling in her haste. Righting herself, she picked her way around structure, then slid down the embankment and started across the frozen lake.

“For God’s sake, Raven, stay back! The surface could give way at any minute.”

She halted in indecision. The ice might not bear their combined weight, and she could send them both plunging into the freezing depths. But if she did nothing, Kell stood little chance of survival.

From the corner of her eye, she glimpsed movement in the distance—the house servants, she realized. But they would never arrive in time to help. She had to try to save Kell on her own.

Kneeling on the surface the way Kell had done, she crawled forward, praying with every tentative inch that she wouldn’t be too late, sobbing and cursing her bonds all the while.

“Dammit, Raven, you could die!”

She couldn’t abandon Kell, though, even if it meant drowning with him. She loved him more than her own life.

His legs were closest to her, she saw through her blinding tears. She could see the soles of his boots a yard away.

“Kell…help me….”

He uttered a grim curse, but stretched one leg out as far as he could. Her fingers were so raw and numb, she could barely grasp the toe of his boot, but somehow she managed to find purchase.

Not breathing, Raven pulled on his leg, trying to brace herself against the slick surface. It was nearly impossible; Kell barely budged an inch.

“Try again,” he urged.

Stifling a sob, she pulled again, struggling with all her might. Her effort was more successful this time; he moved nearly half a foot.

With another desperate prayer, she threw every ounce of her strength into the task. Her progress seemed infinitely slow, but with her arms aching, her lungs straining, she managed inch by inch to draw Kell back from the treacherous edge and onto more solid ice.

An eternity later she felt grasping hands lifting them the final way to safety. The servants, Raven realized, exhaustion sapping the last of her will.

Kell had no more strength than she did. When he reached the bank, he collapsed to his knees, unable to go farther.

With a superhuman effort, Raven shrugged off the supporting hands and staggered to his side. Sinking in front of him, she clung to his neck as tightly as her bound hands would allow, the tears slipping down her face and turning to ice.

His arms came around her, and he held her without speaking, his face buried in her hair, his shoulders shaking.

He was weeping as well, she knew. Weeping for the brother he had been unable to save.

Chapter

Twenty-one

Raven paused at the library door, trying to summon the courage to enter. She’d seen nothing of Kell during the past two hours, and her disquiet only increased with each moment he avoided her.

He stood at the French windows now, his back to her, and stared out at the icy landscape. He’d changed his attire, and his impeccable chocolate coat and buff breeches gave no indication he had just fought a battle to the death.

Her own physical circumstances had improved as well. The servants had found her clothing that, while simple, was warm and dry. And her raw wrists had been bandaged. Yet no salve could ease the pain in her heart.

She felt drained, aching, filled with sorrow. Not for Sean, but for Kell. She found it hard to mourn Sean’s death overmuch after his heinous acts. But she grieved for Kell.

He looked so remote, so unapproachable, so achingly alone.

As she watched him, Raven felt her eyes blur with tears. She had been so blind. Sheloved Kell.

It had stunned her to realize the truth. Shaken her to think he could have died without ever knowing how deeply she cared. Yet she couldn’t tell him now. Kell wouldn’t want to hear of her feelings, not when he was so devastated by his brother’s death.

She might never be able to tell him and discover if he could possibly ever love her in return. Would Sean’s death forever shadow their lives? His vengeful brother might have destroyed any hope of love between them.

As if sensing her presence, Kell glanced over his shoulder, surveying her bruised cheek, the abraded skin at her throat, her bandaged wrists. A shadow passed over his eyes. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” she lied, wanting to reassure him.

“I regret that I let him hurt you,” he said, his voice low and raw.

I regret more that he hurt you,Raven thought. “Bruises heal, Kell. And you could not have known what he would do.”

Kell locked his jaw, his expression one of sheer pain. “I promised to protect you. I promised to protecthim .”

She felt the despair in him, saw it in the bleakness of his eyes, before he turned back to the window.

Raven took a step toward him. She wanted desperately to hold him, to console him, but she wasn’t sure where to begin.

“You tried your best, Kell,” she said at last. “Sean didn’t want to be saved. He…he wanted an end to his torment.”

Kell made no response, but his silence was rife with anguish.

She moistened her dry lips. “You can’t hold yourself to blame. You couldn’t be expected to sacrifice your life for your brother’s.”

“No?” he asked softly. He bowed his head.

Tears stinging her eyes, Raven looked down at her clasped hands. Her heart was breaking for him. His pain, his absolute aloneness, made her ache inside. His grief was a gaping, bleeding wound, one she couldn’t heal.

Unbidden, she felt a fierce surge of renewed anger at William Lasseter. He had ravaged Kell’s life almost as savagely as he had shattered Sean’s.

Staunchly she swallowed the rawness in her throat and tried again. “Kell, there was nothing more you could have done.”

“I could have done more to help him. Ishould have done more.”

“He would not allow you to. Sean wanted to die, Kell. He gave you no choice.”

“He did give me a choice.” Kell’s voice was no more than a whisper. “I chose you.”

The edge of bitterness in his tone struck her like a blow. He blamed her for Sean’s death? She couldn’t refute the charge, certainly. Their marriage had indeed led to Sean’s demise, at least indirectly. If she hadn’t come between the two brothers, Sean would still be alive. If Kell had never wed her in the first place…

“Do you hate me?” she asked, the question dredged from her throat.

“No. Not you.” His reply was so quiet, she wondered if she could believe him.

“I hate myself,” he added. “I can’t forgive myself.”

“Kell…”

He held up a hand, as if he couldn’t bear to listen to another word.

Kell was flaying himself with guilt, Raven knew. He wouldn’t accept her comfort. She couldn’t heal his hurt. Nor could she defend herself if he held her to blame for his brother’s tragic end.

At least Kell wouldn’t be charged with murder. There had been witnesses to Sean’s death; a half a dozen servants could attest to the fight between the brothers. There was sure to be an investigation into Michael O’Malley’s murder, though, and in all likelihood, Sean would be exposed as the groom’s killer.

It was even possible the truth about their uncle’s death would eventually come out. She doubted Kell would volunteer the information. He wouldn’t reveal Sean’s crimes to the world. He would continue letting everyone think him a murderer.

But now wasn’t the time to argue with him over such remote possibilities.

His next words, however, filled her with dread. “I want you to go home, Raven. I will have my carriage return you to London.”

Her hand stole to her stomach, pressing there, trying to quell the disquiet roiling inside her. “You won’t come with me?”

“No. I can’t.”

“What will you do, then?”

“I need to find Sean’s body…make arrangements for his burial. I suppose I will take him back to Ireland. Perhaps his soul can find peace there.”

And willyouever find peace? Raven wanted to ask. “And after that…?”

“I don’t know.”

Perhaps her dread was unfounded, she tried to tell herself. Possibly Kell only needed time to grieve for his brother. Time to deal with his own devils, his guilt and regret.

Or perhaps it was more ominous. He might be sending her away because he wanted nothing more to do with her. Despite his often brusque demeanor, Kell was a gallant man. He wouldn’t tell her if he couldn’t bear the sight of her.

Kell turned then and moved toward her. Raven held her breath, but he didn’t pause. Without a word, without even a glance, he brushed past her and left the room.

She bent her head, trying not to cry. Perhaps Sean had won after all, even in death.

Raven shivered violently. She didn’t think she would ever be warm again.

She returned to London alone, as Kell wished. The journey was almost as wretched as her last one, when she’d been at the mercy of a madman, but this time her misery was not physical. The pain and fear she’d experienced during the grueling hours of her abduction couldn’t possibly compare to the torment in her heart now, for Raven couldn’t shake the conviction that she had lost Kell.

When she arrived in London, it was to face a full-blown scandal. The murder of her groom, her own abduction, the death of her brother-in-law, her husband’s apparent abandonment—none of that could be quietly swept under the carpet.

She had few allies to console her, either, for her closest friends were still away. Brynn had retired to the Wycliff family seat with Lucian for the final months of her confinement, although Lucian’s work at the Foreign Office would require his frequent presence in London. Dare reportedly was following his rakish pursuits in the north.

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.