Page 12 of Swept Away


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Recognizing both the messenger and the heavy vellum stationery, Raven ripped open the envelope, afraid it contained bad news, but not in his worst imaginings had he envisioned the hastily scrawled note would announce an elopement. Stunned, he handed the boy a generous tip for his trouble and sent him on home. He then retreated to the quiet of his cabin, where his temper swiftly erupted into a blazing fit of fury.

“The diabolical witch!” he shrieked, for he could make no sense of what had happened. As far as he knew, Alex had meant to be honest with Eden about his heart condition. How could he have married her instead? Alex was not the type of man to make spur-of-the-moment decisions. All his judgments where well thought out and sound. Raven was positive there was no way he could have been the one to suggest marriage. No, it had to have been Eden’s idea.

She was a rare beauty, and obviously bright, but he had not even suspected she possessed a character so devoid of morals as this ridiculous elopement proved her to have. Had she enticed Alex into marriage by promising to make his last days happy? Or had she simply seduced him then demanded he offer marriage? What had the bitch done to talk Alex into a m

arriage that could not possibly endure?

“She’ll kill him,” he swore under his breath. “As surely as putting a pistol to his head, she’ll kill him with that luscious body of hers.”

Unable to shake that hideous thought, Raven paced his cabin with an anguished stride. He knew Alex was no fool. If what he wanted was a gorgeous bride who would probably not mourn his passing more than five minutes before she began to count his money, then he would not interfere. He would not criticize her as long as Alex lived, but the instant the dear man was buried, he would vent every last ounce of his anger on his widow.

It might be impossible to prosecute Eden for murder, but he would never allow her to forget that she had hastened Alex’s death. Every time she lured Alex to her bed, she would be shortening his life, and no matter how loudly she protested her innocence, Raven would call her a murderess.

Chapter Four

July 1863

They would not meet again, so Raven had not bothered to remember the petite brunette’s name. She was pretty, and her figure possessed alluring curves, but the pleasing nature of her appearance had had no effect on the blackness of his mood. Her conversation consisted of the adoring praise he had come to expect from her kind. He was not really listening to her, and could not have said what sort of personality she had. He was all too aware of her heavy perfume, however, for it filled the garishly decorated room with a near suffocating stench. It was too late to rise from her bed to fling open the window, but Raven wished he had had the foresight to do so when he had first stepped across the threshold.

As the agile brunette moved astride him, her shiny, black ringlets swayed across her pale breasts, but Raven failed to notice the stark contrast between her ebony hair and fair skin that other men found so appealing. Her nipples were the color of milk chocolate but he had not been tempted to sample their taste. Instead he reached up to roll the tips between his fingers until they became taut buds.

Responding to the tenderness of his touch, the girl licked her lips suggestively and began to move her hips with a sensuous rhythm to bring him to climax again. He was a lusty man, but she was confident she could satisfy his every need. She thought him extraordinarily handsome, and told him so repeatedly, but his expression remained disappointingly remote. Not discouraged, she began a circular motion that brought their bodies together in a new and, what she considered, even more exciting way.

Raven continued to fondle her breasts, but the warmth of the brunette’s skin did not make him feel any less alone. Tall and well built even in his early teens, he had often spent an idle afternoon in a whore’s bed, and none had ever guessed how young he was. The thrill of being with a woman had been enough then. Now he possessed the same strong sexual appetite and stamina, but the release he found joining with strangers, no matter how pretty, was no longer half as sweet.

He felt the first stirrings of ecstasy fill his loins and dropped his hands to encircle his companion’s waist. He controlled her motions then, forcing her to slow down to make the feeling last until he could no longer restrain the force of his passion. He let it wash over him then, felt his body grow tense at the instant his seed shot forth, but the peace he had hoped to find with a woman again eluded him.

“I did not please you?” the brunette asked, puzzled when Raven swiftly left her bed.

Pausing at the washstand in the corner, Raven scrubbed hurriedly before pulling on his clothes. He did not want any reminders of the time he had spent with her and wished he could have taken a hot bath to thoroughly remove her sickeningly sweet scent from his body before he returned to his ship.

“Did you hear me complain?” he asked gruffly.

“No,” the brunette replied. “I did not hear you say anything at all.”

Once dressed, Raven jammed his feet into his boots, then tossed a generous amount on the rumpled bed. “I didn’t come here for conversation.”

As he reached the door, the brunette rose up on her knees and called out to him, “When will you come back to see me?”

Never, Raven thought to himself, but he left the room without dashing her hopes with that bitter farewell.

It had been only a week since Alex and Eden had left for Briarcliff, and Raven had lost count of how many pints of ale he had drunk and how many women he had paid for what passed for affection in all too many sailors’ lives. He had not returned to the townhouse, nor had he sent anyone to collect the mail. He thought it likely several invitations must have arrived, but he did not care enough about anyone he had met to attend the last of the season’s parties now that Alex was not there to insist that he go.

Alex enjoyed himself everywhere he went, but despite his constant encouragement Raven had never been able to match his uncle’s keen appreciation of life. Their personalities were entirely different, of course, and always had been, but it pained Raven that he had been unable to master Alex’s talent for savoring the moment. His nature was far more serious, but his mood had seldom been as gloomy as it had been since Alex’s elopement.

Wisely, his crew had stayed out of his way; unfortunately, Stephanie Lawton was not nearly so clever.

Soon after Raven had returned to his ship, Stephanie alighted from her family’s carriage and with an unladylike haste, dashed up the gangplank. Raven ignored Randy MacDermott’s snicker and strode across the deck to meet her, but before he could greet her properly, she grabbed his hands and began an insistent plea.

“Is there a place where we might talk in private? Your cabin, perhaps?”

Alarmed by that request, Raven stared down at the brown-eyed girl, wondering why he had not instantly realized how closely the brunette with whom he had spent the better part of the afternoon resembled her. “I’m not accustomed to receiving young ladies for tea. My quarters can’t possibly be grand enough to entertain you, Lady Stephanie.”

Frustrated by the coolness of that response, Stephanie’s voice took on a petulant whine. “We’ve got to talk about what’s happened, and we need some privacy to do it.”

Recalling all too vividly the disastrous result when Eden had made that same request, Raven shook his head. “I’ll escort you home. Your carriage will have to be private enough.”

Stephanie bit her lower lip to stifle a moan of disappointment as she turned to look toward her carriage. The gleaming black vehicle would indeed provide privacy, but she was not at all certain the journey home would be long enough for what she wished to accomplish. Hoping to make the best of the time they spent together, she smiled coquettishly as she turned back toward Raven, but when his expression failed to become more sympathetic, she gave up as futile the effort to speak with him there. Resigning herself to letting him have his way, she took his arm for the walk down the gangplank and returned to her carriage. When Raven was comfortably seated across from her, and their journey underway, she began to confide in him.

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