The Prince of Ravenscar (14 page)

Tavish appeared at his elbow, carrying in a magnificent silver tray holding a teapot and a pile of cakes. Tavish had a magnificent head of dark hair, which he pomaded straight up to give him at least three more inches in height. He was a man Julian had known and trusted as long as he could remember. Tavish and Pouffer both had been mainstays in his life since he'd been a boy.

Tavish said, a dollop of worship in his deep voice, “As you see, my lord, we have a guest, a lovely,
tall
guest, a tall female sort of guest, unusual, to be sure, but quite invigorating to see. Ah, such a waste of inches, but I am forced to admit that she does wear all those lovely inches well, don't you think, my lord?”

Julian shot a look at Roxanne, who was returning his look, hers quite limpid. “She does well with inches, yes, Tavish. On the other hand, I daresay if she didn't do well with her excessive inches, it wouldn't make much difference.” He said to Harlan, “I see you have made Miss Radcliffe's acquaintance.”

Talk about enthusiasm, Harlan overflowed with it. “I have indeed, Julian. She has been telling me about growing up in Yorkshire, walking for hours on desolate moors, listening to ravens caw to each other from bare oak tree branches, black silhouettes in the distance, and watching storm clouds draw nearer and nearer.”

“You are a poet, sir,” Roxanne said, laughing. “I am not so fluent as you. But it was a wonderful childhood, that is true enough. Hello, Julian. May I serve you tea?”

“A dollop of milk, Roxanne, thank you. Harlan, are you here to give me news of the
Blue Star
?”

“I fear not, Julian. There is still no word. I am here to deliver papers concerning the new ship you are considering adding to your fleet. I made inquiries of Lord—” He shot a quick look at Roxanne. “Well, names are not important, are they?”

“No, not in this instance,” Julian said.

Roxanne handed Julian his saucer, then poured tea for Harlan and herself. “Harlan tells me he has worked for you for a goodly number of years. I inquired how goodly, since neither of you are all that aged, and he tells me you and he met in a tavern at the docks.” She paused, smiled toward Harlan.

Harlan cleared his throat. “I hadn't yet told her you were there to find a miscreant who had word about valuable items stolen from one of your cargoes.”

Julian nodded. “That ended satisfactorily, with your assistance.” He said to Roxanne, “Harlan and I have been together for a good many years.” Julian toasted Harlan with his teacup. “A very profitable association,” he added.

“Shall I place the documents in your estate room?”

“Yes, thank you, Harlan.”
Pick your tongue off the floor.
“Say good-bye to Miss Radcliffe now.”

“An exquisite pleasure, Miss Radcliffe.”

Roxanne inclined her head, a small smile played over her mouth. The witch was fully aware Harlan was ready to slaver on her slippers.

“I will see you tomorrow. Now, I have need to speak with Miss Radcliffe.”

Harlan gave Roxanne one final pitiful look before he left the drawing room. Julian said, “Do you think it was your talk of walking the desolate moors or the call of the ravens that did him in?”

Roxanne grinned. “Perhaps it was talk of my two pugs, Popper and Perky, who were always trying to relieve themselves on my father's left trouser leg. When I made civil inquiries after his family, and he told me he'd been cursed with six sisters, which made me pat his hand in commiseration, an image of Leah duplicated six times over in my brain.” She shuddered.

Julian sat down. “Harlan was the only boy in his family. His parents and all six sisters treated him like a prince. I daresay if one of his sisters had insulted him like Leah does you, she would have been tossed out the window by her siblings.”

Tavish set a platter of cakes in front of them, his rooster tail of hair standing tall and proud.

Julian waited until he'd bowed himself out. “For Christmas each year, I present Tavish with a special pot of hair pomade that comes from Naples. It shines, does it not?”

“He is a vision.”

After they each selected a tart from the heaping platter, Julian said, “Are you without sense? You should not be here alone, Roxanne.”

“Oh? And why is that, my lord? Must I remind you that I am twenty-seven years old, not a tender young morsel like Sophie. I assure you I could visit any number of questionable places and it not be remarked upon. Let me add that since you are the son of a duke, you cannot be considered a bad influence or dangerous to my virtue. You well may be, but it is not immediately apparent.”

“Why are you here?”

She grinned like a bandit. “Your mama has begged Sophie and me to accompany the two of you to Hardcross Manor, the home of Baron Purley, the father of the slimy Richard Langworth.”

Even after all these years, Julian was still surprised at how quickly his mother moved. He began to tell Roxanne he wasn't at all certain he was even going. He paused, took another sip of his rich India tea, studied her over the rim of his cup, and said, “Why, yes, I think that is a marvelous idea. You and Sophie can enjoy the pleasures of the countryside—Hardcross Manor is close to Ravenscar, only three miles distant. Have you ever visited Cornwall?”

“No, but I have heard the southern coast is vastly different from the northern, and there are very few miles between them.”

He nodded. “Prepare to see palm trees along the drive to Ravenscar. I believe you will like my home, Roxanne, it is something of a castle but not really. It was quite barren, but my mother has planted greenery to soften the landscape. There are also rolling green hills, scores of barrows—”

She sat forward, all attention. “Barrows? Do you believe them burial mounds from long ago?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Your mother told Sophie about Ravenscar. We are both anxious to see it, and the barrows, of course.”

“Good. You could spend hours poking about whilst I—”

After a moment, she said, “Yes? Whilst you have it out with slimy Richard, who believes you murdered your wife, and his sister. Will you tell me why he is so certain you are guilty of such a horrible deed?”

He studied her for a moment. “Do you not believe I could be guilty of murder?”

She waved that away. “No, not for a moment. You see, Julian, I have come to know you. You are an honorable man, a man who once he makes a promise would never break it. You would not murder anyone, particularly your own wife.”

She'd known him for weeks and believed it impossible for him to kill another person? Because he was honorable? A man who kept his promises? He felt humbled and grateful. And yet Richard, whom he'd known all his life, believed him guilty to the point he wanted him dead? Who was the damned witness he claimed knew Julian had killed Lily? He said finally, “It makes no sense for you to be completely ignorant when you will come with us to Hardcross Manor.” He paused for a moment, then said, “I would assume Baron Purley knew my father, but he never spoke of him to me that I remember. I suppose I never asked, since my father was an old man when I was born.

“I spent my boyhood years in and out of Hardcross Manor, a part of the family, really. Richard and I were inseparable, then Lily grew up and I saw her with new eyes, and so we married. Richard was my best man; Vicky was her flower girl. Six months,” he added, “we had only six months before she was shot, before she died.” He stopped, simply couldn't bring himself to tell how he'd run into the garden to see Lily dead, blood covering her chest, how that warm sunny day had irrevocably changed all their lives. He said only, “Someone killed her or she shot herself. Neither makes sense to me, but it is either one or the other.

“I admit I'm surprised the baron wishes to make amends, to end the antipathy between us; that is what he wrote.”

Roxanne felt tears burn her eyes. What had really happened? Why would a newly married young woman kill herself? Who would kill her? It must drive him mad to not know what happened. She cleared her throat. “Your mother is very surprised as well. She believes it is now obvious the baron realizes he was wrong about you, and wishes to apologize to you. Do you think this is true?”

“I don't know. Richard gave me the opposite impression. We will see.”

“Well, I think it a fine idea to see what he has to say. I would like to see Richard Langworth's face when he hears of this. I wonder, do you think he will be at Hardcross Manor as well? Do you think his father consulted him? Well, no matter. How many days does it require to get to Cornwall?”

“Three days.”

“We will leave on Wednesday?”

When he walked her to the front door some ten minutes later, Roxanne paused, laid her hand lightly on his arm. “Julian, this is an awful burden for you to carry, both the grief for your wife's death and Richard Langworth's belief you were responsible. I am very sorry for both.” And she wondered how he stood it, the not knowing what had happened that terrible day.

He remained standing on the doorstep, watching until her carriage disappeared from Rexford Square.

He received word that afternoon that the
Blue Star,
six weeks late, had arrived in Plymouth. He was on his way to Plymouth within the hour, Cannon running like the wind.

 

 

 

C
orinne pulled off her lovely York tan gloves. “I know only that the
Blue Star
at last arrived in Plymouth, and my son was gone within the hour on that beast of his. We are to leave tomorrow, yet I have heard nothing at all.”

Roxanne looked up from her sewing. “If Julian said we will leave tomorrow, then he will be back, ma'am. You'll see.”

“But there might be trouble. It might require a lot of time for him—ah, I shall pull off my bonnet and stomp it. No, everything will be all right. Julian knows what he's about.” But the dowager duchess continued her pacing, her lovely pale blue skirts sweeping over the Aubusson carpet. “His father was the same way, at least I think perhaps he was. It has been so very long, and I knew him for only a year and a half, but I do remember he was stubborn as a stoat, and if one continued to question him, he became silent as a rock. I was breeding, right away, and I do remember wanting to clout him upon occasion.”

Sophie laughed, couldn't help herself. “I agree with Roxanne, ma'am. Julian will be here. I am quite interested in meeting Richard Langworth's father and sister. So he wishes to end the ill feeling? I wonder, does this end it for his son as well?”

“We will see.”

The three ladies looked up to see Julian standing in the drawing-room doorway, Mint hovering at his elbow.

His mother rushed to him, pulled him to her, then pushed him away. “What about the
Blue Star,
Julian?”

He nodded to Sophie and Roxanne, who were standing next to each other, the light flooding through the bow windows, showing him for the first time the resemblance between aunt and niece—the same tilt of the head, the same winging brows.

“My ship was run aground in a storm off the coast of southern Spain. My captain sent me messages, but none got through. Repairs required nearly a month. All is well.”

“Thank goodness for that,” Roxanne said. “None of your men were hurt in the storm?”

He shook his head. “I was afraid of sabotage, but it was not.”

“So you are now richer than Croesus,” his fond mama said.

“It is close,” Julian agreed, a twinkle in his eye. He smiled down at her. “I brought you a present, Mama.”

It was in that instant that every person in the room fell in love with him, including Mint.

He presented Corinne with a two-foot-long rope of pearls, earrings, and a bracelet. They were fit for a princess, Mint said reverently, watching the pearls shimmer through Corinne's fingers.

“Actually, they did belong to a princess,” Julian said, “a real princess named Labina Falusi. The family has fallen on hard times. I believe they wanted me to marry the princess, but I decided I preferred the pearls. My first mate, Mr. Toft, kept them with him throughout the entire voyage, since I was never sure when bandits might strike.”

“And did bandits try to rob you, Julian?” Sophie asked.

He nodded. “Outside of Naples. Fortunately, they were incompetent.”

“Thank goodness for that,” Corinne said, sliding the pearls through her fingers.

He watched his mother loop the pearls three times around her neck, then fasten on the earrings and the bracelet. He watched her rush to the large mirror over the fireplace and stare at herself.

“You look lovely, Mama.” And he saw in that moment what his father had seen when she was eighteen years old.

Corinne rushed back to him and hugged him tightly. “I love you, Julian. You drive me to madness, but never forget I love you. The pearls, they are amazing. Do you really like them?” She turned this way and that, and the pearls shimmered and glowed.

“They—you—are magnificent.”

Roxanne, Sophie, and Mint admired the pearls and loved him even more when Julian asked his mother to waltz. Roxanne rushed to the piano. Sophie sat on the sofa, watching Julian and his mama in her beautiful pearls sweeping gracefully around the drawing room.

When Roxanne stopped playing, it was to see Mrs. Eldridge and three maids crowded behind Mint in the drawing-room doorway, smiling from ear to ear.

“Excuse us, Miss Roxanne, but the lovely music, all the laughter, ah, t'were lovely,” said Mrs. Eldridge, her hands over her heart. “A man waltzing with his mama, 'tis a fine thing to see.”