Raven listened to her footfalls fade away and bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from calling her back. He was crumbling inside. This was how he’d felt in prison, watching the pale glow of his jailor’s lantern disappear down the corridor: filled with longing, anger, and regret.
She was the one infinitely precious thing in his existence. The rest of his life stretched bleakly ahead of him, no light, no Hellcat, no sunshine. Without her he’d be banished to darkness, the torture a thousand times worse than before because now he knew exactly what he was missing.
But maintaining his distance was vital. Sometimes you needed to amputate a limb, however painful, for the person to survive. True, they’d always be missing a part of themselves, but they’d be alive. Heloise would survive without him. There was no other alternative.
He dropped his head back against the wall and winced as he aggravated his wound. He might never be whole again, but at least he’d set her free.
—
Richard was waiting on the jetty as they pulled into the cove, the tails of his greatcoat blowing in the wind. Heloise endured his smothering hug as she disembarked, but there was no time for talk. Kit raced down the gangplank and the two men embraced with gleeful exclamations, and then all was bustle as they organized Raven’s transfer from the ship. Two burly footmen formed a chair with their linked arms and carried him, complaining, up the steep path.
Heloise clutched her yellow gypsy shawl around her shoulders to ward off the damp chill and followed the procession up the steps cut in the cliff. Had it really been only three weeks since Raven’s ball? An eternity had passed since then.
A gray drizzle permeated the air as they started down the hill toward Ravenwood and Richard turned to her with a smile. “There’s no need for you to come, Helly. I’ll see Kit and Raven settled. You go on home and see Maman and Father.”
Heloise bit her lip. Of course. She couldn’t go with Raven. She wasn’t one of the boys. She was back in the land of propriety and censure, where an unmarried woman could no more tend to a male friend in his home than she could fly to the moon. She wanted to shout and scream, but lacked even the energy for that. What was the point?
She turned and trudged toward the border of their lands, deliberately averting her gaze from the crumbling seashell folly in the distance. As if she needed more reminders of Raven’s history of rejecting her.
It was strange and jarring, being home. Her parents were overjoyed to have her back and she felt a twinge of guilt that she’d caused them so much worry. She gave them a highly expurgated version of her adventures, ignored their concerned questions, pleaded exhaustion, and fled to her room.
Everything here looked exactly the same, but she experienced an awful sense of disconnection, homesick even though she was home. Her room had always been a sanctuary, but it offered scant comfort now; Raven was everywhere she looked. Heloise screwed her eyes shut tight, but the afterimage of him was burned into her brain. Her chest felt hollow, like she’d left a vital part of herself in Spain, but already the whole adventure wavered in her mind, fading, as if it had happened to someone else.
She curled up in the center of the bed, drew the covers over herself, and prayed she wouldn’t dream.
Chapter 41
“You’ve a visitor,” Richard said, by way of greeting. He closed Raven’s bedroom door and sauntered over to the side of the bed with his usual languid grace.
Raven frowned, instantly suspicious of his casual tone. “Other than you? If it’s your sister, tell her to go away. I don’t want to see her.”
Richard made himself comfortable on the chair next to the bed and stretched out his long legs. “It’s not my sister, although you really ought to see her. She’s asked after you every day for the past week.”
Raven sat up, managing to hide a wince at the pain that lanced through his thigh. Doctor Gilbert had checked the wound a week ago and declared it fine, but the damn thing was taking a frustratingly long time to heal. He was going out of his mind with boredom.
“Tell her I’m fine. Tell her I’m considering her reputation, even if she’s not. She shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near a man’s bedroom, invalid or not.”
Richard shot him an amused glance. “Since when did you care about proprieties? Especially when it comes to inviting women into your boudoir?”
“I’vealwayscared about reputation when it comes to your sister, you know that. And besides, she’s not ‘women,’ she’s…” Raven floundered for a suitable adjective and settled for “Something else entirely.”
Richard grinned. “Well,that’strue. I can’t believe you spent so long in her company without strangling her. You have my undying respect.” He leaned over and poured two glasses of brandy from the decanter on the nightstand. “Here you go. Drink up. Doctor’s orders.”
Raven accepted the tumbler and took a grateful sip, then stared moodily at the amber liquid. “How is she, by the way?” He tried to match Richard’s casual tone, but suspected he failed miserably.
“Miserable,” Richard said, echoing his thoughts with uncanny accuracy. Raven schooled his face into a blank mask.
“She talks and laughs, but there’s no spark.”
Raven swirled the liquid in the glass. His gut knotted unpleasantly. He shouldn’t drink brandy on an empty stomach.
“She’s like Mother’s Swiss music box. When you wind it up the top opens and a little bird automaton pops out and sings a tune.” Richard took a slow sip of brandy. “It’s beautiful. But completely unnatural.”
Raven took another drink. His friend was too perceptive for his own good. “I kissed her,” he muttered.
Richard raised his brows.
Raven raised his eyes to heaven. “I did a lot more than bloody kiss her, all right?” God, this was harder than he’d imagined. “I seduced her.” He tensed and waited for the explosion, but it never came. “Go on, hit me. I deserve it.”