Passion's Series (39 page)

Then, with a suddenness that left her quaking, he was gone. Her eyes filled with tears as Sara, her newly appointed personal maid, slipped through the doorway.

***

Raven paced back and forth in front of Dawn's door. The gay music drifted up from the ballroom below. What had come over him? Was he losing his mind? How could he have let himself get so out of control? One moment he wanted to throttle her, the next he wanted to hug the little girl, whose devotion through his childhood had given him his only sense of self worth. He remembered thinking, if anyone as sweet and lovely as Dawn could look at him with such trust and love, then maybe he wasn't the soulless discarded animal he so often thought of himself.

And then, Great Spirit help him, he wanted to make love to her! Not the meaningless, mindless rutting he shared with Marguerite. He wanted to be aware of every curve of Dawn's body, every soft inch of her skin. And he wanted her to respond with the sheer joy of being touched by the hands of the one man who loved her more than life.

He'd always loved Dawn. From the day of her birth he'd loved her. As a child she was a lanky, awkward, funny child with no greater joy in life than to follow him about causing havoc in her wake. But he never minded. She was his one and only admirer, and he'd loved her for that. Now, the realization of this new kind of love for Dawn staggered him. It made a mockery of the time he had spent building his life in London, and shattered the illusion that he could ever be happy while wed to Marguerite.

He pushed a hand through his hair and wondered for the hundredth time why this happened. Seeing Thomas Brown walk into his office was shock enough, to see the most beautiful woman he'd ever set eyes on at the old trader's side had filled him with wonder. Then she smiled at him and he'd recognized her.

It had been ten years since he'd been to Chota Town, ten long, lonely years since he'd been told to leave the village. He turned and marched angrily to his own room. Once inside, he slammed the door, trying to shut out the past few hours, especially the last few minutes of folly.

'I always knew you could never hurt me.' Those were her words. But then, she didn't know why he had been told to leave the village. She didn't know his anger was like a wild thing that lay coiled in the pit of his stomach waiting to be unleashed. With the offending temper riding much too high, he walked with stiff legs to the open window and looked into the night. Below him a few guests walked among the carefully trimmed shrubs of the formal garden.

He watched their slow and easy movements and tried to relax, to make some sense of what was happening. Looking up at the stars, he pleaded with the Great Spirit. Lord, what brought him here? He didn't belong here. His body sagged with the realization that he didn't belong anywhere.

Soon he would have the information he needed. He would know the name of the heartless man who had planted his seed into the belly of a young Indian girl and then abandoned her. The name of the callous man who'd planted his seed to grow and to burst upon a world that had no use for his offspring. Then he'd seek his revenge on the man who had condemned him to a world in which he could never fit.

He doubled his right fist and rammed it against the hard wooden frame of the window jamb. He did it again and again. Taking a deep breath, he turned from the window. His hand hurt. That was good. It gave him something else to focus on as he returned to the party.

He composed his thoughts, walked to the door and opened it. Marguerite stood there, poised with her dainty, glove-covered fist raised ready to knock.

"My dear, why have you left the ball?" he asked pleasantly and rubbed his aching hand.

She batted her eyes innocently and looked up at him through her lashes. There was no denying her beauty. So what if she pretended to faint at the slightest provocation? All the women of her class in England did that and all the men knew it. It was part of the game...like pretending to be a virgin.

He smiled in spite of himself at the memory of Dawn, the back of her hand placed delicately to her forehead, dropping like a downed buffalo right in the middle of the ballroom floor. And there she lay, a heap of silk with arms and legs stiffly spread as if pointing to the four winds, her eyes only half closed. The dozen or so female guests that went down after her, thinking they'd actually seen one of their own drop dead, had probably experienced their first real faint.

In a way it pleased him to know that she still retained some of that little girl mischief he had so often missed over the years.

Marguerite, obviously mistaking the grin for her, smiled sweetly in return. "Mon Coeur, I came to check on your ward. You have been up here for so long. Is she truly not well? I believe you should call for a physician.

Raven pulled her into his arms for a quick reassuring hug, something he knew she didn't need. Just part of the game. "She'll be just fine. Were you not listening to what I told everyone? Dawn has been affected by this condition since birth. It's nothing serious. A little rest and she'll be perfectly lively in the morning. Now let's go down and see to our guests."

As Raven followed Marguerite down the hall, his thoughts returned to Dawn. Tomorrow he would put her on the first freighter, clipper, or mail ship heading for the colonies. The only problem would be finding a captain she couldn't outwit.

God help them all if he didn't get her home before her father learned she was in London with him.

Chapter Four

Contrary to his plans, the morning found Raven and Dawn horseback riding in Hyde Park. Rain from the previous night had left a world of clean scents and muddy pathways. Raven breathed deeply as he concentrated on relaxing the tension in his shoulders.

Normally the gentle sounds of falling rain would have lulled him to sleep. Not so last night when his racing mind warred with his body's need for rest. His thoughts had wandered from storage fires and lost inventory to the sound of gunfire echoing down an alleyway.

His thoughts turned to Dawn and he experienced another kind of Hell. He remembered her as a child tagging along behind him. He had not been much more than a child himself. She was so small and looked up at him with such trust. She made him feel like a warrior and a protector. Now she was a woman who could stand proudly before him. And she did just that, defying him and pledging to save him from himself.

"Raven, have you not heard a word I've said?"

Raven glanced at Dawn and quickly looked away. She was painfully beautiful. The very sight of her hurt his eyes and caused pangs in his heart.

When she begged him to take her out this morning, he'd dreaded the prospect of riding through the park with all the young and eager birds of prey swooping endlessly toward his little sparrow. He had dissuaded many a young heart this morning with his bleak scowl. He grinned. They didn't know his Dawn the way he did. Those cocky young roosters had no idea that his lovely sparrow was really an eagle in disguise.

"So, you have been listening to me."

Actually he hadn't, but no need to let her know that.

At that moment, a startled hare darted from cover. Both horses shied and Dawn easily reigned in her mount. Raven, on the other hand, found himself sliding precariously to one side, saddle and all. He quickly slipped his foot from the stirrup and landed on his feet in a puddle.

Dawn dismounted quickly and rushed to his side. "Look at this, Raven." She snatched a severed strap. "This was cut almost entirely in two." She gazed at him, concern in her eyes.

He looked at the strap in her small hand and fought the shudder racing its way along his spine. Only a knife could produce such a cleanly severed edge.

He reached for her elbow. "You're getting muddy."

With an annoyed wave of her hand, she dismissed his comment and shook off his grip. "I'm not worried about a little mud. Look at this." She waved the strap. "Someone cut this. Who would do such a thing?"

"You are much too concerned," he said, snatching unsuccessfully at the moving strap. "I will look into this as soon as we return to Montgomery House. Whoever saddled Lady Star must have seen this."

Dawn dropped the strap and planted her feet firmly in the mud, a fist on each shapely hip. Raven reminded himself that he shouldn't be admiring her curves and tried to chase away visions of her standing before him clad only in a red tie-about skirt.

"I told you, I am here because you need me. Someone is trying to kill you."

Raven's hands shot out to grab her. "Lower your voice," he hissed as he scanned the immediate surroundings for anyone who might have overheard. "You must stop this foolish talk." Was that what she had been talking about all morning? He vaguely remembered her going on about some vision. The memory of her mother's gift of visions sent a chill along his skin. If she inherited her mother's gift, could she not see the danger she was in? Would she head toward the danger even if she were aware of it?

Becoming aware of how tightly he held her, he loosened his grip on her arms, but didn't release her. What he wanted was to pull her into his embrace and protect her. He no longer dared hope that she could be near him and not suffer the consequences. His only option at this point was to play down the incident and figure out how to get her home before any harm came to her.

"Let's look at this logically," he said, holding her gaze with his. "A slow trot through the park is not exactly a dangerous outing. Besides, who knew we would be riding this morning?"

Raven counted his blessings as she continued in a harsh whisper. "You had better take me seriously, Raven Cloud. It will be very hard for me to protect you if you keep fighting against me."

Raven straightened his back as he closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. Great Spirit! His head truly throbbed. He pressed his thumb firmly to the bridge of his nose and massaged his aching brow. She, protect him?

"Several young men last night were insistent that I might enjoy a ride in the park today, maybe..."

Raven opened his eyes and leveled his gaze on Dawn. "An early morning ride in the park is an ordinary activity practiced frequently by those either looking for, or showing off their latest acquisition, whether it be flesh or material." He knew he sounded harsh. He raised his hand to stop her response. "I do agree with you on one thing. There has been some mischief done here. You'll not be riding again. We are going straight back to Montgomery House. I will handle this problem with the head groom. And you, my little eagle eyes, will stay inside until I can book your passage back to Charles Town."

He retrieved the saddle with an angry sweep of his arm and placed it on Lady Star's back. Taking up the nervous mare's reins, much in the same manner as he took hold of Dawn's elbow, they made their way back to Grosvenor Square on foot. They argued the entire distance. If Raven had suffered a headache before, it was nothing compared to the brain squeeze he was experiencing when they reached the Montgomery Mansion.

Turning the horses over to the stable boy, Raven pulled Dawn toward the gate leading into the small yard encircling the regal old home. Pushing her through the opening, he turned and locked the gate. Once inside, he took Dawn's arm as if he expected her to bolt, and led her toward the house.

Raven's over-protective attitude, coupled with his domineering character, totally upset Dawn. However, she quickly forgot her own irritation as she watched Peabody, Lady Gaylord's irritable little Yorkshire, dash by yelping and snarling furiously on his way to the gate.

She chuckled. "I see Lady Gaylord has let Peabody out for a run. I wonder what new curiosity has got him into such an uproar?"

Raven shrugged, continuing to propel Dawn forward. "Who knows? It's probably William coming this way. That little dog loves to irritate the man."

"Why?" Dawn struggled against the firm pressure of Raven's hand on her arm to peer over her shoulder and follow the progress of the little dog.

"I don't know and I don't care. Now, listen to me, Dawn." He gently shoved her toward the steps just as Bigfoot, Lady Montgomery's very large, Irish Wolfhound puppy, galloped past.

Raven artfully sidestepped the clumsy mutt, while maneuvering around a rather deep mud puddle, dug by Bigfoot, no doubt. Turning Dawn to face him, he gently tapped a fingertip to the end of her nose.

"You stay here, and I mean inside. Do you understand? No more arguing and no more talk of visions and protecting me. I can take care of myself."

"But don't you want to come in and clean your boots?" Dawn asked innocently, watching the scene unfold behind Raven and the gate beyond.

Peabody barked furiously at William, who ambled up the walk. Bigfoot slid to a halt just behind Peabody and let out one loud deep bark. This frightened the poor little dog so badly that he jumped, yelped, and relieved himself all in one startled moment.

The little dog's tiny paws barely touched the ground before he spun and tore off between Bigfoot's legs. Bigfoot, obviously startled by Peabody's reaction, slipped and slid in a complete turnabout to head in a clumsy lope straight for refuge—in the form of his favorite person, Raven.

Absorbed in telling Dawn what to do, Raven failed to see the approaching catastrophe.

Dawn quickly stepped back, causing Raven to turn just in time to catch Bigfoot's total weight on his chest.

William whistled cheerfully as he lifted the latch and strolled into the yard. He carefully stepped around Raven, who now sat squarely in the mud puddle he had so artfully sidestepped earlier.

"Thank you for calling off those blasted dogs, Raven," he said casually as he started up the steps. He opened the door and held it as Dawn stepped through. As the door slowly closed William remarked, "I heard that Raven fell off his horse today."

Dawn could hear Raven's irritated denial, "I did not fall off my horse! Never in my life have I fallen off a horse."