Ecstasy

Chapter Eleven

As Raven’s friend Brynn had predicted, the ton showed signs of relenting in their harsh judgment of the scandal. The afternoon post brought nearly a dozen invitations for Mrs. Lasseter and her new husband.

Upon seeing the size of the stack, Raven felt her mouth curve in a cynical smile, one admittedly tinged with bitterness. How fickle the ton was, following the whims of their leaders like sheep. And how blind she had been.

She had willfully fooled herself all this time, hungering for acceptance by their imperious confederates, convinced that belonging to their elite ranks meant the world to her. But their specious brand of acceptance was as much a sham as her marriage. A house of cards that had all come tumbling down with one breath.

Her course was set now, though. She was still determined to win herself back into their good graces. And she had no intention of backing down.

Raven was perusing the various invitations in the parlor when Sean Lasseter spoke from the doorway.

“How charming. The perfidious bride playing lady of the manor.”

Alarmed, Raven leapt to her feet, scattering invitations everywhere.

“Beg pardon, madam,” the Lasseter butler exclaimed at Sean’s shoulder, “but Mr. Lasseter insisted upon seeing you.”

“I came to call on my new sister,” Sean drawled, sauntering into the room.

Reflexively Raven’s hand went to her throat, where she could feel her pulse pounding. “What are you doing here?”

“Calling, as I said. I have a key to my brother’s house, of course. And you haven’t the authority to deny me admittance.”

Perhaps she did have no right to order him to leave, but neither did she have any desire to be alone with the man who had used her so harshly.

“Knowles,” Raven managed to say to the butler, “will you please send O’Malley to me?”

“Hiding behind your groom’s skirts again?” Sean said when the servant had gone.

“What do you want, Mr. Lasseter?” Raven demanded, ashamed of the way her voice trembled. Yet the pain and humiliation he’d caused her during her abduction was still a stark memory. She had every reason to harbor a healthy fear of him.

“I told you, I came to pay a courtesy call. I thought it only polite form to welcome you into the family.”

She gazed at him skeptically as Sean settled in a chair, casually crossing one leg over the other. He was impeccably dressed in a bottle green coat that brought out the deep color of his eyes. She would have considered him a strikingly handsome man but for the savage look of dislike he was directing at her.

“Somehow I doubt you consider me welcome,” she returned. “Or that you are even capable of common courtesy.”

“Call it curiosity, then. Tell me, what clever tricks did you employ to dupe Kell into wedding you?”

Gathering her control, Raven attempted to respond calmly. “I did not dupe him. He understood my plight and responded as a gentleman might, by proposing.”

His mouth curled. “Kell is hardly a gentleman.”

“At least he did not abduct me and drug me and ruin me in the eyes of society.”

“But you know nothing of the sins he has committed.” Sean’s look turned almost sly. “He is suspected of murder; were you aware?”

She lifted her chin scornfully, unwilling to believe anything Sean said. “I refuse to listen to such ugly rumors.”

“Are you certain they are rumors?”

Raven stared at him. “Are you claiming they are not? Kell said…He led me to believe he didn’t kill your uncle.”

“Would you expect him to do otherwise? He would hardly admit to murder, now would he?” Sean made a scoffing sound. “My brother is not the paragon you think him. You should take warning.”

Raven shook her head, suspicious of Sean’s motives. He was doubtless trying to make trouble between her and his brother. Surely there was not any real substance behind his innuendo. But whatever his aim, she only wanted to be rid of him.

She drew a deep breath. “What will it take to persuade you to leave me alone, Mr. Lasseter? Money? If so, I can give it to you. I have a modest fortune. You can have it if that will stop you from hounding me.”

“You cannot bribe me,” Sean returned with scorn. “No amount of money can make up for the hell you put me through.”

“I am sorry for the pain you suffered. But you have had your revenge. I would call us even.”

“Not even. Never even.” His voice dropped to a chilling whisper. “Not until you pay in blood.”

Rising, he moved toward her, his very stance menacing. If he deliberately meant to frighten her, he was succeeding. Raven took a defensive step backward, glancing behind her at the bellpull, wondering if she could reach it in time and summon a servant. If not, she could scream…

When he reached out and grasped her wrist, she winced in pain. The bruises he had inflicted upon her the night of her abduction had only recently faded.

Just then O’Malley appeared. Raven gasped in relief as he grabbed Sean by the collar and yanked him away from her.

When Sean started to struggle, O’Malley drew back his meaty fist, holding it poised threateningly. “ ’Tis clear you didn’t learn the lesson I taught you last time.”

“Unhand me, you bloody cur!” Sean demanded, his face black with rage.

When the groom contemptuously released him, Sean staggered back, running a finger beneath his cravat as if it were too tight. “You will regret that, O’Malley.”

“Not as much as you’ll regret it if you dare to touch her again. Wring your neck, I will, I promise you. You’ll not see your next dawn.”

His scowl returning, Sean took a step forward. But then he stopped, as if considering the wisdom of fighting a man so much brawnier than he.

His fists clenched at his sides, he lowered his voice to a savage whisper. “I would watch your back, if I were you.” Still bristling, Sean brushed past the groom and stalked from the room.

Raven sank into the nearest chair, trembling.

“Are you all right?” O’Malley asked in concern.

“Yes…I think so.”

“ ’Tis sorry I am that I let that bastard slip away the last time. Killed him, I should have.”

She drew a slow breath. “Killing him might have been extreme. And the cost too high. You could have landed in prison or worse.”

“But had I killed the blighter, he wouldn’t be here to accost you now. And you would never have been forced to wed his brother.”

Raven pressed her lips together, refusing to let herself sink into self-pity. “Well, it is done now. I will have to find some way to live with it.”

“I don’t like it, him being free to target you.”

“I don’t care much for the way he threatened you, either,” she responded, remembering Sean’s warning to O’Malley to watch his back.

“I can take care of myself, Miss Raven. ’Tis you who should beware, I’m thinking. You should keep a knife or a pistol close at hand.”

Raven grimaced. She had already shot his brother. She didn’t like to think of having to defend herself by violent means, and yet it might be necessary. “Perhaps I should.”

“Well, I’ll be near if you should need me.”

“Thank you, O’Malley.”

After the groom was gone, she hugged her arms around herself, feeling unclean and afraid. It was a long moment before her shivers began to subside.

Her gaze dropped to the invitations that had fallen to the carpet. She might have made some progress in reducing the scandal, but it was clear she still hadn’t removed the threat.

She still had a dangerous enemy in Sean Lasseter. And so did O’Malley.

When Raven’s groom was shown in, Kell was seated at his desk in his private study, reviewing account books. He looked up in surprise as O’Malley stalked across the carpet.

“A word with you it is I’m wanting, Mr. Lasseter,” the groom said grimly, coming to a halt before the desk. He stood with hat in hand, like any correct servant, but there was nothing humble about his demeanor. Rather, anger etched his craggy features, perhaps even belligerence.

Kell set down his pen. “Is this about my wife?”

“Aye, and your brother.”

He felt his stomach knot.

“I’m not usually one to bear tales,” O’Malley ground out, “but your brother…he came to your house this afternoon to threaten Miss Raven. He nearly struck her.”

“Did he hurt her?” Kell demanded in a sharp voice.

“No, but he would have had I not been there to stop him. I had to show him my fives to make him leave.”

Digesting the groom’s information in silence, Kell felt anger spear through him. Before he could respond, however, O’Malley continued in a voice that was half-furious, half-pleading.

“That won’t be the end of it, I’m thinking. Your brother said he wants revenge for the hell he suffered. But Miss Raven isn’t to blame for what the navy did to him. If anyone is at fault, ’tis myself. When he attacked Miss Raven in the park, I darkened his daylights and left him there to come to his senses. But I swear, I never thought he would be taken up by the impressment gang.”

“No,” Kell replied in a low voice. “If anyone is to blame, it’s Sean for assaulting her in the first place.”

“Aye.” O’Malley nodded fiercely. “He’s already hurt her enough. But I’ve a terrible fear he won’t leave it be. And I don’t know if I can protect her next time.”

Kell felt his jaw harden, along with his resolve. “I will deal with my brother, O’Malley,” he said tightly. “I promise you, Sean won’t hurt her again.”

After finding Sean away from home, Kell visited several haunts his brother normally frequented, finally running him to earth at Madame Fouchet’s. The most elegant sin club in London catered to aristocratic young bloods and wealthy commoners and specialized in fulfilling sexual fantasies.

The proprietor was a shrewd Frenchwoman, the same madame who had supplied the aphrodisiac used on Raven. Madame Fouchet greeted Kell personally, and with fondness.

“How good to see you, mon cher. You have not graced us with your presence in quite some time. We have missed you.”

Kell returned a noncommittal half smile. “I am seeking my brother, madame. Is he perhaps here?”

“Indeed, he is. But he is…occupied at present.”

“Even so, I should like to speak to him.”

“Then you will find him in room number seven.”

Kell started to turn away, but Madame Fouchet stopped him. “I worry about your brother, cher. He seems a very troubled young man. He has such delightful charm, but there are occasions when he has not been…nice to my girls.”

“Is that so?” Kell asked with an edge of grimness. “In that case, you needn’t feel obliged to endure his patronage. And you should not hesitate to call me if he oversteps the bounds.”

“I will do that, monsieur. Thank you.” She smiled. “Of course you must know that you are always welcome here. But I hear you are newly wedded. You will not want to leave your bridal bed for one of my girls, no?”

He feigned a smile and declined to answer directly. “I will keep your invitation in mind, madame.”

The sporting house seemed abnormally quiet as Kell mounted the stairs. But then it was only late afternoon, far too early for the usual revelry.

He had no doubt how he would find his brother, though. And given his own past wildness, he could hardly condemn such dissipation. Kell could well remember his younger years when he first came to London. He had thought nothing of spending the entire day in bed with a beautiful Cyprian, indulging in decadence.

For too long, however, he’d set Sean a bad example. He had sobered greatly since, making an effort to be more discreet, eschewing brothels for longer-term arrangements. His last affair with a wealthy merchant’s widow had ended badly, with tears and recriminations on her part, and he’d refrained from employing another mistress since then.

Perhaps fortunately, Kell reflected, considering the fact that he was now wed. Managing a wife and mistress at the same time was more trouble than he preferred to deal with at the moment. He had enough on his hands with the problem of his brother.

Then again, he might be wise to take up Madame Fouchet’s offer to visit here. Perhaps then he would be able to forget the searing memory of blue eyes and soft breasts and the alluring scent that haunted his dreams.

Trying to dismiss thoughts of his beautiful, unwanted bride, Kell rapped lightly on the door to room seven and was sharply bid entrance.

He found Sean seated on a chaise, a scantily clad beauty on his lap.

“If I might have a word with you in private,” Kell said, not waiting for an invitation before settling himself in a chair opposite his brother.

With a scowl on his face, Sean patted the courtesan’s derriere and sent her from the room.

“So what brings you here, brother?” he asked belligerently. “Not the entertainment, surely. You have no need to drown your sorrows in the arms of a paid whore. You have a wife now-or is she spurning you the way she did me?”

Kell forced himself to ignore the jibe. “You crossed the line again this afternoon,” he said, his tone terse. “Raven is my wife now, whether or not either of us likes it. I won’t have her harmed.”

Sean looked away guiltily. “I didn’t harm her.”

“But you threatened to.”

“How do you know? Did she come running to you?”

Kell responded to the taunt by issuing a demand. “Perhaps I failed to make myself clear. You’ll keep away from her in future.”

“And if I don’t?”

He narrowed his gaze on his brother. “I expect you to leave London tomorrow.”

Lips thinning mutinously, Sean cast him a defiant glance. “Or what? What will you do if I refuse, brother?” Flinging himself from the chaise, Sean began to pace. “You are hardly in a position to dictate to me when your own reputation is so tenuous. I could ensure you have more to occupy your time than needlessly defending the heartless bitch you married.”

Kell gritted his teeth at the word. “Meaning?”

Coming to a halt, Sean gazed down at him in triumph, his green eyes glittering. “Meaning that I need only find a magistrate and suggest how dear Uncle William met his demise. If I claimed I saw you kill him, you would have more trouble than you could deal with. You would likely be facing prison.”

Kell’s stomach clenched savagely, the depth of his brother’s hostility like a knife to his gut.

For a moment he stared at the man standing before him. It was as if he no longer knew his brother. Sean had become more and more distraught over the past year, and truly violent since his impressment, but he’d never threatened outright betrayal.

Regardless…Even if the bond between them frayed beyond repair, Kell knew he could no longer overlook his brother’s violence or tolerate his excesses.

“Claim whatever you will,” Kell finally replied grimly, “but that won’t change my intentions of sending you to Ireland.”

His face turning red with anger, Sean brandished his fists. “This is all your fault, you know. You promised Mama you would protect me. But you didn’t protect me, did you, Kell? You let Uncle William do whatever he wanted to me.”

Furious himself, sick at heart, Kell drew a labored breath. He would spend the rest of his life trying to make up for his failure, but he wouldn’t relent. Sean had become too dangerous. “Yes, I am to blame for not protecting you,” he declared with quiet vehemence. “And I will never forgive myself. But there is no way for the past to be undone. If there were…” His own fists clenched. “I would gladly have taken your place, you know very well.”

A grimace crossed his brother’s face. “You would never have found yourself in my place in the first instance. You would not have let that bastard touch you. You would have fought him.” His expression of anger suddenly crumpled. “I’ve always been so much weaker than you.” Turning away, he sank onto the chaise again, burying his face in his hands.

Kell felt his own anger abate a degree at Sean’s desolation. He leaned forward in his chair, searching for the right words. “Sean…can’t you see what is happening to you? You are letting the past destroy you.”

Reaching up, Sean clutched at his hair. “I know,” he said hoarsely. “Sometimes I can’t help myself. There is this devil screaming inside my head…making me want to lash out, to hurt someone, to hurt you.”

Anguish speared through Kell, along with a raw desire to protect his brother. “We will get you help. There are other doctors-”

“No! I won’t have more quacks poking and prodding at me, telling me my mind is diseased.” After a moment, Sean looked up, tears making his green eyes shimmer. “I’m sorry, Kell,” he said in a low voice. “I didn’t mean what I said. I am an ungrateful wretch. God, please forgive me… It is just that I…loved Raven. I was devastated when you chose her over me. And now she has turned you against me.”

Kell ran a hand raggedly through his own hair at his brother’s pleading tone. “I didn’t choose her willingly, Sean. And having her come between us is the last thing I would ever want. But I can’t stand by and allow you to hurt her. Can you understand that?”

“Yes.” The word was a mere whisper.

“Swear to me you will leave her alone.”

“I…I swear.”

Kell could feel his brother’s bleakness, his misery. Sean was in anguish, his better nature fighting the demons inside him.

Rising, Kell crossed to the chaise and pressed a hand to Sean’s shoulder. “You need to get away. If you stay here, you’ll only be tormented by the past.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” he said dully. “But where would I go?”

“I told you, to Ireland. To the farm. The breeding program was to be your responsibility, remember?”

The horse farm Kell had purchased near Dublin boasted prime breeding stock that had already resulted in several promising racers. Not that he cared much about racing or the Turf. But since Sean loved horses so deeply, Kell had hoped to provide him an interest as well as a refuge.

“Will you come with me?” Sean asked wistfully.

Kell’s stomach twisted again. Sean sounded like a young boy again, like the beloved brother he’d once known. “I regret that I can’t. I have obligations here. My club…”

“And Raven Kendrick.” Sean’s mouth momentarily hardened.

“Yes. Raven as well. But that doesn’t mean I care for you any less. Sean, you must get away, for your own sake.”

“Very well. If that will make you happy, I will go,” Sean said quietly, the dismal look of defeat in his eyes.

It was nearly midnight when Kell reluctantly climbed the stairs, heading for his wife’s bedchamber. Raven would be surprised that he’d returned home from his club so much earlier than usual, and even more surprised when he approached her. But he owed her yet another apology for his brother’s savage conduct.

Kell moved slowly down the dimly lit hall, his thoughts still spinning around his confrontation with Sean this afternoon and the angry threats his brother had made. Their clash had dredged up dark memories of the night their uncle died.

Six months after they’d fled England, William had tracked them down. Kell knew he would never forget that night. He’d spent most of the evening gaming, milking a winning streak, trying to add to their meager savings. He returned to their stark lodgings in the wee hours of the morning to find Sean sobbing out his heart over their uncle’s bloody body.

“It was an accident, Kell, I swear! I didn’t mean to hurt him. I only meant to make him stop touching me.”

Bit by bit Kell coaxed the story from his trembling brother. William apparently had pursued them to Ireland, concerned by the appearance that his underage nephews refused to live with him, as well as worried that they would divulge his homosexuality, a hanging offense. When William demanded the brothers return home and began shaking him, Sean revolted, unable to bear his touch. He’d stabbed William in the chest with Kell’s own rapier.

Kell couldn’t totally blame his fourteen-year-old brother, for he likely would have killed Sean’s abuser himself, had he been present. The boy’s explosive reaction was self-defense, he was almost certain.

Determined to shield his brother from further suffering, Kell disposed of the body on a deserted stretch of road outside Dublin, making William’s death appear to be highway robbery. The investigation that followed pointed accusing fingers at Kell, bringing to light his violent history with his uncle, but the authorities could find no real proof. He refused to deny the rumors that he was the murderer, though. Better to take the blame himself than to have suspicion fall on his young brother.

Even so, Sean had never fully recovered. Having his uncle’s death on his conscience, in addition to his sordid shame, had nearly destroyed him-a torment of the soul that no brotherly words of comfort, no passage of time, could totally assuage.

Kell squeezed his eyes shut as he paused before Raven’s bedchamber door. Despite all his efforts, Sean’s despondence had been inconsolable.

They’d remained in Ireland for two more years before deciding to make a fresh start where the gaming was more profitable. Returning to England, they settled in London. Kell hoarded his winnings and eventually, after a half dozen more years, amassed the funds to open a private gaming club, where the more adventurous members of society came to gamble.

The dark rumors had followed him, however. He still couldn’t refute them without implicating his brother. Nor could he divulge Sean’s terrible secrets. But he could at least try to make Raven understand and win her sympathy.

A light shone beneath her door, and Kell rapped softly. She was reading in bed, he saw when she bid entrance. The startled look on her face clearly proclaimed how unexpected his visit was. Hurriedly hiding her book, she snatched up the covers to her chin, concealing her nightdress from view.

Kell hesitated, wondering if he might be making a mistake, holding this interview in her bedchamber. But this was his best chance to speak to her in private.

“Is something wrong?” she asked worriedly.

“I came to apologize for Sean’s behavior this afternoon,” Kell said, shutting the door quietly behind him.

She stared at him warily as he crossed the room to her. Kell found himself gratified that she didn’t want him there any more than he wanted to be there.

When she remained silent, he pressed his advantage and sat beside her on the bed. Raven froze at his nearness, Kell noted with satisfaction. It would behoove him to keep her on the defensive.

“It is no excuse, I know,” he began, “but I want you to understand something about Sean, how he became the way he is.”

“What do you mean?”

“For some years now he has suffered periods of depression, of melancholy. When he falls into one of his black moods, he won’t eat or sleep, and he drinks far too much. But until his impressment, I truly thought he had his demons under control.”

Kell paused, letting his words sink in. “When he disappeared last June, I was frantic, Raven. I spent months searching for him before I uncovered the harbor manifest of a naval vessel that listed Sean’s name as one of the crew. I hired a private schooner and went after him.

“When I found him he was shackled in the hold, wallowing in his own excrement. His back was a bloody strip of flesh. He had been flogged till his throat was too raw to scream.”

Kell found his own throat closing at the savage memory. “He’s my brother, Raven.” His fingers curled involuntarily into fists. “Perhaps you can understand my grief at finding him so broken.”

“Yes-” she murmured.

“And can you imagine the pain he suffered?”

Her gaze lowered to avoid his penetrating one. “Yes…I can imagine.”

“It sent Sean over the edge, Raven.”

“And you expect me to forgive him because of that?” she asked, her voice barely audible.

“No. Not forgive. But I hope you will have an inkling of what made Sean the way he is now. How deep despair can drive a man to do unspeakable things. He is ill, Raven. How could anyone be in his right mind after that horror?”

When she didn’t speak, Kell put a finger under her chin to make her look at him. “What he needs most is time to heal. I am sending him to Ireland. He won’t bother you again.”

“Thank you.” She shuddered. “I would be happy not to be required to deal with him again.”

“You won’t have to.”

Her blue eyes were dark and solemn as she gazed back at him. Kell suddenly found himself aware of the intimacy of the circumstances. His wife was in bed, dressed in her nightclothes, her midnight hair spilling about her shoulders, the lamplight casting a golden glow over her fine-boned face. Her high-necked nightdress was unrevealing, true, and mostly concealed from view by the covers, and yet he knew very well what lay beneath.

Kell vividly remembered her nude body from their wedding night. He remembered her breasts, licking them, sucking them, teasing them. He remembered her slender legs and how she had mounted him… Instantly he grew hard, and he swore under his breath.

Needing a distraction, he glanced down to where the book she’d been reading was peeking out from the covers. The jeweled cover sparkled in the lamplight. Reaching over her, he picked it up to examine it. He had no doubt he was seeing a magnificent and rare artifact.

“Is this the book you told me about?” he asked. “The erotic journal your mother left to you?”

Her face flushed. “Y-yes.”

His gaze dropped involuntarily from her rosy cheeks to her mouth. He remembered kissing that delectable mouth, sliding his tongue deep inside to taste her, to drink of her, to steal her breath. He remembered how she had responded, her lips parting on a strangled sob as her pleasure peaked…

Kell drew a sharp breath, knowing he had to leave. “Perhaps some day you might allow me to read it. It would be intriguing to discover if I could learn a thing or two about lovemaking.”

“I suppose…if you wish,” she stammered.

He could tell he had caught her off guard and realized it was a victory of sorts. He would continue to keep his beautiful wife off her guard if he could manage it. He had spent too much time of late in that position himself. Ever since laying eyes on Raven, in fact.

Steeling his loins, Kell bent down and pressed an intentionally provocative kiss to her forehead. “Sleep well, vixen.”

She was still staring after him when he let himself from her bedchamber by way of the dressing room door.