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Authors: Catherine Coulter

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BOOK: The Prince of Ravenscar
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“They obey you.”
“Occasionally. I keep telling them they should do whatever I command, since I am their master. Let's give them another ten minutes—Cletus, no, don't try to bite Beatrice's belly. Ah, so you really do think you know where we'll find these spears of stone?”
Sophie was petting each spaniel's head, one after the other. She said, not looking at him, “I'm really not such a silly girl with air between her ears, as much as you would like to think so.”
“No, there's barely any room in your head for air, you've got so many brains tucked in there. I'm afraid you know all too much—for a girl your age.”
She grinned up at him now. “You should have known me when I was five years old. I was a right proper little whip, according to our gardener.”
The thing was, he couldn't really see her as a little girl, not now, dammit.
When they brought the spaniels back into his estate room, Sophie realized she liked the smell—dog and leather and the scent of the sea from just beyond the glass door. And man.
“We're going to the cave,” she said.
As they walked side by side to the banks of the River Horvath, he said, “Spears of stone, that could very well be it. How came you to think of it?”
She raised her skirts a bit to avoid a tangled bush.
“Sophie?”
“All those brains in my head have to be good for something.” Fifteen minutes later, they slipped behind the thick brush that hid the entrance and stepped into the cave. Julian raised the lantern high. “I've never thought of stalactites being made of stone, yet they are. There are so many of them.”
“You're right, I hadn't realized. Very well, we must concentrate only on those that look exactly like a spear.”
Unfortunately, most of them were spears.
She faced Julian, shaking her head. “I imagined it would be so simple. I would bring you here, point to the only spear, we would scrape away sand, and there it would be, this ugly black jewel, perhaps wrapped in seal cloth. But instead . . .” She waved her arms around her.
“I had thought to impress you, to make you see me as a grown-up lady, to make you see me as, well, never mind.” She sighed. “I had thought to be a heroine, but I am not. I am not even a right proper little whip anymore.”
“Don't say that.”
His voice was deep and harsh. Sophie stared at him. “But it is true, Julian. We could spend the next ten years digging beneath every single limestone spear in this dratted cave.”
“Your deduction was excellent. We must try to think like my father when he was writing out his blasted clues.
Spears of stone
—it has to have meant something special to him, something he perhaps mentioned to my mother. We will ask her to think on it.”
“Or perhaps it is here.” Sophie fell to her knees beside a particularly long sharp stalactite and dug her fingers into the smooth sand. After several minutes, she stopped and looked up at him. “Well, this probably isn't the right one.”
He laughed, hauled her to her feet. He used too much strength, he knew it, and yet he still did it. She came flying up hard against him, every bit of her hard against him, and he felt a bolt of lust so powerful he nearly fell over.
“No,” he said, pushed her away, grabbed the lantern, and left the cave, pausing only to hold the branches out of the way for her to pass.
“I'm not a right little whip anymore, Julian. I'm a right big whip.”
He said not a word to her on their walk back to Ravenscar.
Pouffer told them Baron Purley was in the drawing room with her grace, drinking tea.
“Like Pouffer, I shan't pay much attention to his lordship's politeness, either,” he said.
As they drew near, Julian heard his mother say, “I found a folded note beneath the tear, Rupert. Let me show it to you. Sophie made several copies of it.”
He and Sophie came into the room even as his mother opened a small Chinese box atop a marquetry table, retrieved the paper, and handed it to the baron.
Julian said nothing, merely watched the baron's face, aware of Sophie's every breath. The baron looked interested, then excited. “Good Lord, Corinne, I had no idea. I mean, I saw the backing paper had torn away, but I didn't wish to take the time to repair it, I only wanted to give it to Julian. Come, my dear, this puzzle from his grace, what does it mean?”
“None of us knows,” she said. “Julian, Sophie, do come in. I have shown Rupert the puzzle from your father.”
“Do you have any ideas what this can mean, Julian? Do you know where these spears of stone could be? Or what they are? Or what this magic jewel could be?”
“No, sir, I have no idea where this so-called magic jewel can be, or its purported magic. It will work for me but not my father? Did my father ever speak to you of this?”
“You're speaking of thirty years ago, my boy. But I imagine I would remember if your father spoke of a magic jewel.”
Julian shrugged. “I understand Richard has escorted Lady Merrick back to Hardcross Manor.”
“Yes,” the baron said, smiling. “She is a charming lady. I believe my son has perhaps found his future wife.”
Sophie opened her mouth, then shut it.
“Would you care for tea, dearest?” Corinne asked, her voice carefully neutral.
“I must see to business, Mother, and Sophie and Roxanne have planned an outing. Sir, good luck with your houseguest.”
They heard the baron say, “Why would Julian wish me luck with Lady Merrick? She is Roxanne's sister, is she not? Sophie's aunt? A charming young woman, and I must say her husband left her very well situated, indeed.”
“Oh, dear,” Sophie said to Julian, as they walked from the drawing room. “I wonder what Leah is up to at this very moment?”
48
J
ulian was walking from the stables, flicking his whip against his boot, when he heard shouting. It was Sophie, and she was running to him, her riding skirts pulled above her ankles, calling his name over and over. He felt an awful fear. He grabbed her arms. “What's wrong? What's the matter? Are you all right?”
“She's gone!”
“What? Who is gone, Sophie?”
“Roxanne. She is not in her bedchamber, she is nowhere, I've asked everyone. No one has seen her. Everyone is looking for her. Do you know where she is?”
He took her hands in his, rubbed his thumbs over her palms to calm her. “No, I don't know. Here's Devlin. Surely he knows where she is.”
“No, he doesn't. He and I are riding to Hardcross Manor. I know Richard Langworth took her, I know it; so does Devlin. Now that you're back, we can all go.”
“Wait a moment—you've looked here?”
“Yes, yes. Tansy came to me at seven o'clock this morning and said Roxanne wasn't in her bed. At first I wasn't worried. Ravenscar is huge, and Roxanne loves to explore, but I couldn't find her. I asked everyone, then Pouffer told me Devlin was in the billiards room. He was losing to himself, and cursing, really quite mad about it. Oh, who cares if he or himself was winning?”
“I usually lose to myself, Sophie,” Devlin said, trying for calm even as cold fear nearly bowed him over. “Julian, we must go now to Hardcross Manor. I agree with Sophie, Langworth took her. It makes no sense to me, but he must be the one to have taken her. After his failure to burn Julian's goods on the
Blue Star,
he must be getting desperate.”
In the nine years Julian had known Devlin, he'd never before seen him so afraid.
Devlin said again, “I know Langworth took her, I know it. He has gone too far. I fully intend to kill him.”
“Devlin, you said it makes no sense, and it doesn't. Why would he take Roxanne when you are the one she—” Sophie stalled.
The two men exchanged a look that said clearly,
If he wanted you to suffer all the way to your soul, he would not have taken Roxanne, he'd have taken Sophie.
“What?” Sophie turned from one to the other. “What are you thinking? What don't you think I should know?”
Julian said, “If Richard wanted me to suffer, he should have taken my mother.”
Devlin rolled his eyes. Julian ignored him.
Sophie said, “Maybe he did try to take her grace but couldn't manage it. So he took Roxanne instead. But why? She is Leah's sister, and he supposedly is going to marry Leah. Why would he take his future sister-in-law?”
Devlin said, “Leah carries a great deal of dislike in her, some of it toward her sister. Once we have Richard, he will tell me. He has hidden her, probably on manor property. Do you know of a storage house, an old barn, a gazebo, any ancient ruin where he could hide her?”
“There is an old barn on the edge of the property, where Richard and I played as boys, though I don't know if it is still standing.”
“Let's go,” Sophie said, and raced into the stable.
“I'm going to pound the bastard into the dirt, Julian, so don't try to talk me out of it.”
“When we find Roxanne, I'll help you.”
“And then I'm going to kill him.”
T
hirty minutes later, the three of them pulled up their horses in front of Hardcross Manor to see Victoria Langworth standing on the deep steps, hands on her hips, yelling and waving her finger at a man they'd never seen before.
She looked up at them, then continued to shout as she waved her fist in the man's face. “This villain was supposed to fix my saddle! But did he? No, he patched it with some cheap leather that looked like it was taken from a dog collar. You, sir, you are an poltroon, and I shall see you ruined!”
The man managed to get in, “But miss, it is my brother who was to fix your saddle. He's a feckless lad, and I'll—”
Victoria actually growled. “You will take my saddle back to your feckless brother and see that he does it right or I will come at night and chew off his cheek when he's asleep!”
“Goodness,” Sophie said, “that's a powerful threat.”
Evidently, it sounded fairly powerful to the man as well. He grabbed the saddle from the ground, hoisted it onto his back, and nearly ran toward the stables.
Victoria turned to them, frowned. “You are all here. It isn't even noon yet. What is the matter?”
Julian stopped one step below hers. “Where is your brother, Vicky?”
“However should I know? He is probably nuzzling that dreadful woman's neck. Do you know she actually coos at him?” She looked at Sophie. “That woman is your aunt, which makes no sense to me, since I find you quite likable. Why is she so nasty?”
“Well, that is an excellent question, and I will tell you, Vicky, I have wondered that myself many times, particularly during the past three weeks. Where do you think they're nuzzling and cooing?”
Victoria Langworth flicked a glance toward Devlin, sketched him a curtsy. “My lord, it is very sunny today, unusual, but still—being of a vampire's persuasion, are you all right?”
It was then they all noticed Devlin wasn't wearing a hat. “I want to know where the nuzzling place is, Miss Langworth. I will worry about burning up under the sun after we have found your brother.”
“But why do you wish to find Richard so badly?”
“He took Roxanne,” Sophie said. “Truly, Victoria, we must find her. I am afraid for her.”
“It is Roxanne's sister you should fear, not my poor blind brother. Do you know, I happened to tell Lady Merrick how I missed my sister, Lily, and how I believed she was so lucky to have her sister Roxanne still living. I told her how very charming and beautiful I thought Roxanne, and I wished she would marry Julian so she would be close by, and we could be friends.
“I was surprised when she puffed herself up and blasted Roxanne. She said Roxanne had fooled all of us, that she was malicious, you couldn't trust a word she said. She said Roxanne hated her because a score of gentlemen had proposed to her, Leah, and she'd been married and was considered the most beautiful of the Radcliffe sisters. She said Roxanne was jealous of her because she was a failed woman—a
spinster
—and barely passable-looking, what with her common red hair.
“Then she turned her fire on you, Sophie, her very own niece. She dismissed you, saying you were only a brat who needed to be smacked. I stood there, my mouth open, and marveled at her.”
Julian said, “I don't suppose Leah said this in anyone else's hearing? Like your brother's or your father's?”
“Of course not. Lady Merrick isn't stupid. Do you know, she asked me several times to call her Leah, and she patted my hand in this intimate way that quite made me want to bolt. She charms both Richard and my father. As for me, she has to be endlessly kind to me, and so she is.”
BOOK: The Prince of Ravenscar
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