The Prince of Ravenscar (41 page)

“That's good. I shouldn't want to hear his lordship had died. Such a treat he is to the senses, don't you think? And to watch him laugh and play the vampire, I find it quite amusing. He is so tall and lean, and so very white, such a contrast to his dark eyes and hair. I have wondered what it would be like to kiss him.”

“Please, Vicky, do you know if Richard indeed went to London?”

“Richard? No, I don't know for sure if he went to London, how could I? He is a man, he can do as he pleases, he can strew lies where he pleases. All I know is that he isn't here, so that means he had to go somewhere, doesn't it?”

“Where is your maid, Vicky?”

“Oh, Whipple is doubtless in the village, having tea with her sister.”

“But why would you send her away? It's raining.”

Vicky paused with her brushing, met Leah's wild eyes in the mirror. “I don't know why you should care, Leah. Am I not doing a fine job assisting you?” Leah's hair tangled in the brush, and she yelped.

“How clumsy of me. Do forgive me.” Vicky worked Leah's hair free and continued to brush until it was nearly dry.

“Do you know, the gown fits you very well. We are nearly of a size, isn't that fortunate, since you will be my new sister?”

“I had another sister, you know. Her name was Lily. She was very nearly my size as well. The gown you're wearing belonged to Lily. It was one of her favorites. It has been hanging in my wardrobe for three years now. I haven't worn it, but I thought it would be perfect for you. I'm glad, since it seems you will replace Lily.”

Leah met her eyes in the mirror. Something was wrong here, something she didn't understand. She said, never looking away from Vicky's face, “I do not wish to replace Lily. She was your real sister, as Roxanne is mine. Do you know where Roxanne is, Vicky?”

“I? However could I know where your sister is? Could she be hiding from the prince? Perhaps she no longer wishes to wed him? He has asked her, has he not?”

Leah shook her head. “We were all quite wrong about that. It isn't Roxanne Julian prefers, it is Sophie.”

“Sophie? How can that be possible? I've seen him treat her as one would a precocious child but nothing else. Surely it is Roxanne.”

Leah shook her head. She watched Vicky reach into a small jewelry box and pull out a small golden heart on a delicate gold chain. “This also belonged to Lily. She wore it always.” Vicky flicked open the locket and showed it to Leah.

She saw a small painting of a young woman with black hair and eyes so dark they looked opaque. A small portrait of Julian was opposite hers, and she saw Lily's eyes were even darker than his. They both looked very young and very proud. Why had she thought that?

Leah smelled Vicky's light rose scent as she leaned close and pointed. “Isn't she beautiful? More beautiful than you, but again, surely Richard would not agree. That sort of thing depends on who is doing the looking, doesn't it? The prince loved Lily; he treated her like a princess—fitting, since he is, after all, the Prince of Ravenscar.”

“Her portrait—Lily doesn't look particularly happy to me.”

“Do you know, I believe you are right. I do wonder what she is thinking. She posed for this miniature for two whole days. Father was rather upset that the young man demanded so much of her time. What do you believe she's thinking, Leah?”

“I could have no idea, since I didn't know your sister.”

“And now she is dead, so what would it matter what she was thinking so long ago? Did you know, Lily was wearing the pendant the day she died? When all the women were removing her clothes to wash her, I took it off her and put it in this beautiful jewelry box. The jewelry box was hers as well. She never took it with her to Ravenscar. I asked her why she hadn't, but she only shook her head and wouldn't answer. It is much nicer than mine, and I enjoy looking at it. I have never wanted to wear any of her jewelry. I do look at the locket occasionally, when I can't remember what she looked like.”

“Why didn't you give the locket to Julian?”

Vicky shrugged. “Julian—how odd that name sounds. He is the prince, everyone calls him that.” Leah watched Vicky carefully remove the small portraits from the locket, close it, then slip it back onto the chain and over Leah's head before she could stop her.

She clutched the locket. It felt like a heavy stone in her hand. She hated it. “No, no, Vicky, I don't wish to wear it.”

“Why not? It looks perfect with this gown, don't you think? Both yours and Richard's miniatures can be painted and put in the locket. Yes, that looks quite fine. You do not believe Richard will mind, do you?”

Leah dropped her hand from the locket. She shook her head, stared at herself in the mirror, then at Vicky, standing behind her. Their eyes met in the mirror. Vicky smiled, lifted a mass of her hair. “Very nearly dry now. I shall arrange your hair for you.”

Leah said, “I can twist it up, do not concern yourself.”

“Hold still, Leah. I occasionally arranged Lily's hair. She said I had a special talent for it. No, don't try to move away. You will see how very fine you will look.”

Leah sat frozen, not knowing what to do. Neither Lord Purley nor Richard was here. Vicky's maid wasn't here. She was alone—no, she was being absurd. This was Vicky, a bit on the odd side, but surely that had nothing to do with anything.

It stopped raining. A sliver of sun burst through the window into the bedchamber.

“Vicky, have you been to London? Did you have a Season?”

Vicky was humming again. She grew still, then said, “No, I have never been there. Lily teased Father, begged him to let her have a Season, and finally he agreed. She went to London to stay in a fine house my father rented for three months. He even brought our aunt Elaine down from Gatenby to be her chaperone.

“What happened is strange indeed. She hadn't seen the prince in a very long time, since he was always out of the country, in Italy, I believe, working on building up his shipping empire. A prince should have an empire, don't you think? When she went to her first ball, he was there. When they saw each other, Aunt Elaine told my father, they both began to laugh. To meet after so long, and in London, of all places. It was fate, they both believed.

“Two months later, she married the prince, and Lily moved in to Ravenscar. Her grace, if I recall aright, was always very kind to Lily, just as I'm certain she's also kind to you. Do you know what I mean?”

“No. What do you mean?”

“I know for a fact her grace didn't want the prince to marry Lily. Why, I don't know. Perhaps she'd heard something about her. I understand she really quite detests you.”

“Why would you say such a thing to me?”

“Oh, it is something I fancy I must have heard. I don't remember. Am I wrong? Well, no matter. What I say doesn't count for anything, now, does it?”

Leah heard herself say, “Surely Lily called him Julian, not the prince.”

“No, she always called him prince, all her life, like everyone else—
my prince.
I know he didn't used to like being called prince, but he certainly liked the way Lily said it. I heard him tell Lily he loved to hear her whisper
prince
to him once, and then he was kissing her, pressing her up against the wall.

“Three years ago, I turned eighteen and I asked my father if I could go to London for a Season. Maybe, I told him, I could find a prince as well.

“But you see, Lily had died two months before the Season began, and Richard said we all had to mourn her for a year. I thought that rather foolish, since wearing black had nothing at all to do with the grief we all felt, but I was told there was no choice and I had to wear black gowns. I have always hated black; it makes me look rather sallow.”

“So did you go to London for your Season when you were nineteen?”

She saw Vicky was plaiting her hair. Leah had never worn braids, even as a little girl; she'd always loved to wear her beautiful hair loose and flying about her head when she ran. She started to say something when Vicky said, “No, I decided I wished to stay here in Cornwall. This is my home. I decided I didn't want a prince any longer.”

Vicky kept plaiting. Leah stared at her in the mirror. “But why?”

Vicky shrugged. “Richard and Father believe the prince murdered Lily. I don't know what happened, no one does, even though Richard swears the prince is guilty. When I found her, I remember I kissed her and she felt so very cold. It was quite horrible. Her eyes were staring up at me, but she wasn't there any longer. I remember I rubbed and rubbed my mouth to wipe the cold away. It took a very long time.

“No, if I went to London, I might find a prince, too, and he might kill me, and I'd be dead just like Lily.”

“You do not believe she killed herself, or perhaps she had a lover?”

“Oh, no, she had no lover. Well, not exactly what you would call a lover.”

Leah said, “What do you mean?”

“I mean I have no need of London, seeing everyone trying to be something they're not, or trying to make everyone believe they're better than everyone else. It must be fatiguing. I am happy right here at Hardcross Manor. I do miss Lily, though. But soon I will have you. Look at yourself, Leah. Don't you look grand?”

Leah stared at herself in the mirror, then looked down at the small miniature of Lily that lay on the dressing table. Vicky had fashioned her hair in exactly the same style—hair pulled away from her face and braided high on her head, no loose dangling curls. A severe look, too severe, and identical to Lily's. But on Lily, it didn't look at all severe, it made her look somehow regal. Like a princess.

Leah again looked at Vicky in the mirror, smiling like a proud mother, patting her hair here and there. “Here,” she said, and handed Leah a pair of small pearl earrings. “Lily always wore these earrings with this gown.”

Without saying a word, Leah fastened the delicate pearl earrings onto her ears.

She looked once again down at the portrait of the long-dead Lily. Despite her blond hair and her light eyes, she still looked too much like the dead woman, and for the first time, she felt alarm.

She turned slowly on the dressing stool. “What happened to Aunt Elaine? Did she return to live here at Hardcross Manor?”

“Yes, she did. Her son no longer wanted her about in his house, you see. I rather liked her.”

“What do you mean? What happened to her?”

“Oh, didn't I tell you? She caught a putrid inflammation of the lung and died. I believe it was soon after Lily died. There is so much death in the world, don't you think? I'm very glad I'm not dead.”

Leah nodded numbly. She couldn't look away from the pale-faced woman in the mirror. She again met Vicky's eyes in the mirror. “It must have hurt Richard very much to believe his best friend killed his sister.”

Vicky shrugged, lightly tugged a small curl out of the braid to pull it down along Leah's cheek. Then she studied the braid, pulled down another bit of hair on her other cheek. “That softens your face, but it is a pity you don't look as fine as Lily did without the dangling curls. What did Richard really think of the prince? They were close, I suppose, but it was Lily who held Richard's heart.”

Vicky leaned close. “Do you know, Richard always believed Lily the most beautiful girl in the world? And perhaps that is why he never allowed himself to really see other ladies, you know? But now here you are. You are the first.”

T
he two women stood atop the cliff, watching Julian and Devlin make their way down the path. The rain had stopped, but the footing was treacherous.

“It's not really a path,” Roxanne said. “It's so dangerous, and Devlin is still hurt.”

“I don't care if we have guns or not,” Sophie said. “Those men chasing you—surely they must realize they can't get to you now.” They saw the men's indecision, then all three of them turned and ran back up the beach toward the upward path.

“I don't think Julian and Devlin can catch them. Oh, no, Devlin slipped. Thank goodness Julian caught him.”

Sophie turned and pulled Roxanne close. “We were so worried, so scared, but Devlin said you were smart. He said it over and over, he knew you would manage to get yourself free. But how did you get up that path when it isn't a path at all?”

“I prayed,” Roxanne said. She kissed Sophie's cheek and pulled away to look down at Julian and Devlin. They'd stopped halfway down the cliff, staring after the retreating men. Then they turned and began the climb back up.

Roxanne said, “I know where the cottage is. I think we can beat them back there, because that's where they'll return, since they left their horses there.”

Julian helped Devlin to the top of the cliff. He threw back his head and laughed. “I heard you, Roxanne. Let's end this, ladies, once and for all.” Then he stopped cold, saw they were all soaking wet, Roxanne's hair in wet ropes down her back. She was shivering, so pale he thought she'd surely drop into a dead faint. Sophie looked drowned as well, her heavy clothes weighing her down, her hair straggling down her back from beneath her scarf. But there was such fury and determination on her face, he knew if he said anything, she'd very likely try to hurl him off the cliff.

Devlin was looking even paler than Roxanne, yet he was shrugging out of his cloak, wrapping it around her.

Roxanne looked at him even as she felt the warmth from his cloak sink through the wet material to her skin. “No, this isn't right. You were hurt, Devlin, you must—”