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“PERHAPS YOU’D LIKE SOME OF Meg’s punch? I
watched her spike it, then added another pint when she wasn’t looking.” Tyler Lee stood with the silver ladle poised over a small silver cup. The handle was ornate, as pretty as anything Raven had ever seen, and she knew the service must have cost a small fortune.
“Maybe just a little,” Raven told him. “And one of those fancy small cakes, oh! And a slice of venison, also.”
“Cake, and venison,” he said with a laugh. “Is that all?
There are hard cooked eggs, and biscuits and gravy, and beets in a vinegar brine. And at least three different kinds of pie.”
“You’re teasing me, m’sieur!” Raven said, delighted at the vast array of delicacies.
“Only a little.” Tyler filled a plate and brought it to her, watching as she took a seat in Meg’s rocker by the kitchen hearth, then placed it carefully in her lap. He brought a chair and sat down beside her, cradling his drink in one hand. “Have you told him yet?”
She’d been about to take a bite of golden egg yolk, and now her fingers stilled. Eyes cast down, she sought for a light tone. “I don’t know what you mean.”
He didn’t press the matter, but shrugged lazily. “I think you do, but that’s all right. I have four sisters, and they all have children but the youngest, so I recognize the signs. It may be indelicate of me to notice, but if you’d been eating like this all along, you’d be big as a barn by now. Babies like their nourishment, and I know Eben.” He was quiet for a moment. “Why haven’t you told him about this? Don’t you trust him to do right by you?”
“Yes, of course,” she said, then just as quickly the doubt crept in. “I don’t know!” It wasn’t something she’d wanted to discuss with him, or anyone, yet it kept cropping up, and that was going to get worse very soon. She could not hide it forever. She took a deep and shuddering breath, fighting back
the sting of tears. “Oh, I hate this! I never cry! And I always managed my life very well until he came along! Now, everything is complicated.”
Tyler Lee took her hands in his. “It doesn’t have to be complicated,” he said, his voice softening, his drawl deepening. “If you tell him about the baby, he’ll take you to wife. He won’t let his child be born out of wedlock.”
Raven shook her head, frustrated that her eyes were pooling with tears. “You don’t understand! I don’t want him like that— forced to take care of me!” Voices sounded in the hallway, near the common room. Raven shot from her chair and turned her back, groaning.
Then, Tyler was there beside her, draping his coat over her shoulders, a strong supportive arm at her back. “Come. We’ll get some air. The night is crisp, and the stars are out. It’ll give you a few moments to compose yourself.”
They went out together, through the back door and across the yard and lower field to the banks of Plum Creek. He’d been right about one thing: the night was cool and crisp with the tang of autumn, of fallen leaves and rich dark loam.
Overhead, the black canopy of the sky was studded with diamond-bright stars. With the lights from the inn at a distance of a hundred yards, some of her emotional reaction faded. She sniffed, and Tyler handed her a clean handkerchief from his pocket. “You must think me overly emotional, m’sieur,” she said, drying her eyes. “I’m not usually given to tearful tirades, and dramatic displays. Truly, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“You’re with child?” he said with a laugh. “And at the moment, unwed—but I assure you that both situations will be remedied with a little time.”
“The pregnancy, yes. The unwed—I am not so sure.” She stared out over the rippling creek, secure in the warmth of his coat, glad for his presence. “He treasures his freedom, Tyler. He has told me himself many times, that he doesn’t want a wife, a family.”
“At this point want may not figure into it,” he said. “It may not be the best way to start a life together, but it isn’t exactly a rare occurrence, either.”
Raven shook her head. “It’s not at all what I want.”
He said nothing for a while, and the night grew quiet. With Tyler, she felt safe and protected, and she was certain that Eben was wrong about him. He was a gentleman, caring and funny. He made her laugh, and at the moment, he gave her a tiny bit of hope that everything would be all right. Glancing up at him, she found that he’d been watching her, and the expression on his handsome face seemed very grave indeed.
“What do you want, Raven? Aside from Eben?”
“Just to be happy. To have someone to love, who loves me. Someone I know will be there when I want to be held, and—”
“And?”
She ducked her head and hot blood scalded her cheeks. “The marriage bed. I want that, too. It’s blissful, and I find I like it very much.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Oh, what you must think of me! I should not be saying these things—it’s scandalous!”
“Perhaps,” he said, “in other company, but I’m no stranger to scandal. You can’t shock me, Raven. It isn’t possible.” He shifted to face her, tilting up her chin with one finger. “As for what I think of you… I think you are perfectly delightful, and you can trust me not to tell anyone.”
She smiled at that. “I do—trust you.”
Before she could say anything more, he lowered his head and tested her lips. It was a brief kiss, feather light and full of tenderness. Sweetness. She caught her breath, and when he broke the contact, she found herself lost in his eyes, and in the next breath, it ended.
One minute they were alone, and the next Eben grabbed Tyler by his coat collar and swung him away from Raven, then, as his friend turned to confront him, smashed his fist into the Virginian’s mouth. The blow knocked Tyler back, but he didn’t fall. Staggering a few steps, he shook off the shock and
righted himself to face Eben again. “That one, I may have earned, but it’s all you’re gonna get.”
“Of all the sneaky, underhanded, back-stabbing sons-of- bitches!”
“So, this is about Rafe?”
“I’m not letting you take her,” Eben said.
“I can’t take her anywhere she doesn’t want to go. Why not let the lady decide for herself what it is she wants? Or are you afraid of what she might decide?” Tyler Lee barely had time to put his fists up before Eben lowered his head and dove at him, hitting him square in the midsection, knocking him back into the frozen mud where they rolled in an enraged tangle, trading punches, biting, kicking, and gouging.
“Stop it!” Raven cried. “Stop it this instant!” She caught at Eben’s elbow and nearly missed getting hit when he pulled back his fist to hit Tyler again. The punch connected and knocked the Virginian’s head aside—but Raven succeeded in getting his attention.
“Damn it, Raven, go back to the inn!” Eben shouted. “Eben, stop! Please! You’re hurting him!” Distracted for a
beat too long, Eben took a blow to the chin that knocked him back a staggering step. Before he could collect himself, Tyler hit him again, knocking him over the edge of the steep incline at the creek bank and into the shallows. He came up sputtering, then sank back down, head cushioned on the silt at the water’s edge.
Tyler picked himself up and shook off the after effects of the adrenaline pouring through his system. Blood trickled from his nose and he was covered in mud and bits of leaves. “Rafe, are you all right?” he asked, reaching for Raven’s arm.
She jerked back, shrugging out of his coat, flinging it at him. “Don’t touch me! Either of you!” She turned and ran for the inn as Eben picked himself out of the creek and joined Tyler on the bank.
Eben rubbed his jaw, testing it to assure himself it wasn’t broken. “What’s she so mad about?”
Tyler shrugged. “Damned if I know.” He glanced back at Eben. “Are we finished here?”
Eben met his gaze with stubbornness and determination. “Will you leave her alone?”
Tyler Lee raised one heavy dark brow. “Would you, in my position?”
Eben huffed an impatient sigh, made to turn away, then swung his fist, hitting the man with everything he had, and Tyler Lee stretched out on the cold hard ground as if waiting for the undertaker. “Now, we’re finished,” Eben said, shaking out his injured hand. Without a backward glance, he turned toward the lights of the inn glowing golden in the near distance and the conversation with Raven he’d been planning all day, and which he wanted to get just right.
RAVEN STORMED THROUGH THE BACK door, and up
the servants’ stair without a backward glance. She didn’t know if Eben had managed to crawl from the creek, or whether he’d drowned, and at that moment, she didn’t care. “Damn both of them,” she said, finally reaching her bedchamber, slamming and locking the door. “Why must everything be solved with their fists?”
There was no one to explain the mysteries of why men did the things they did, and she wasn’t even sure she wanted to know. She flopped down on the bed, burying her hot face in the cool pillow, unable even to cry.
Outside in the hallway, determined footfalls sounded. His boot heels rang on the puncheons and the judge’s querulous voice demanded to know what was happening. Meg chimed in, begging them both to use some restraint. “I need to speak to Raven,” Eben said. His fist rattled the panel on its sturdy hinges. “Raven? For Christ’s sake, will you open the door?”
“Leave it alone, Eben,” the older man warned, his voice unforgiving. “I won’t have you cutting a wide swath of destruction through this house.”
“I’m not destroying anything, goddamn it. In the name of all that’s unholy, would you leave us alone!” He rattled the
knob. “Raven, lass, open the door!” “Go away! I don’t wish to see you!”
“All right. All right, then.” His voice lost some of its stridency. All of a sudden, it sounded defeated, world-weary. “At least, listen to me.”
Raven got very quiet, obviously unaware that outside her chamber, at Eben’s back, a crowd had gathered. The judge, and Meg, Ivory and Patrick Wharton, and not a few gents from the town had come to satisfy their curiosity. Eben was beyond caring. He needed to be out with it. It needed to be over. One way or another. “Sweet,” he said, “I meant what I said this morning.”
“You said many things,” she told him through the panel. “Now, go away, and leave me alone.”
“Raven, please. I love you. I have from the very beginning.”
“It is not enough! Now, go away!”
“I’ve been waiting all evening to say this—to ask—will you?” Just like that moment on the cliffs above the river, he was losing his power of coherent speech to a torrent of dammed up emotion. Soon, he’d be babbling like a lunatic in an asylum, sounds coming out of his mouth that should be accompanied by a thread of constant drool. “Raven, I can’t do this anymore. It’s driving me mad.”
“You were mad before I met you,” she said through the door. “You cannot blame your bad disposition on me.”
“I want you, lass. I need you. Marry me.”
Silence. Someone sniggered in the back of the crowd. Everyone else held his or her collective breath. The latch lifted, and the knob turned, and the door opened a very narrow crack. She pressed one wary eye to that space. The rest of her remained hidden. “You want to marry me? To you? Or someone else?”
Eben pressed close. He was wet and muddy, and he smelled of the creek and the field, sweat and blood. “Marry me, and
only me. I want you for my wife, my family.”
He dug in his pocket and brought out the box, muddied and wet from his swim, but nonetheless a symbol of all that he was, all he could be, if she consented to stay with him.
Flicking it open, he held it out to her, the gold band glinting more brightly than it had that morning because she reached to take it.
“Please, lass. Say you will.”
She said nothing, just opened the door, and taking his hand, pulled him into the room. And the crowd outside burst into a raucous cheer. Everyone but Ivory and her husband. Eyes narrowed, she glared at the closed panel, while Patrick glared at her.
“ARE YOU CERTAIN, EBEN? THAT this is what you want? Marriage? A family?”
“I want you,” Eben replied. “And everything that comes as a result of us. You, and me, together.”
“And babies? What did you call them? Snot-nosed brats, I believe? You said that they cried incessantly. Babies are very important to me.”
He sighed. In that moment he would have told her anything to get her to agree, given her anything her heart desired. “Bother what I said,” he told her. “Babies are nice enough, and I’m sure the idea will grow on me. If they come, I will welcome them.” He thought for a moment, then smiled to himself. “A girl might be nice. With your dark hair and eyes.
But if that asshole Virginian comes near her, I may have to kill him. The man just isn’t trustworthy.”
“Where is Tyler Lee?”
“Resting. He’ll come around in a little while.” “You must apologize to him.”
“Apologize? He got exactly what he had coming!”
She put on the prettiest pout he’d ever seen, and focused her gaze on her lap. “He was not being untoward, Eben. He was offering me a way out, for me and the baby.”
“He was trying to steal you away!” he said, then the words began to sink in, one at a time, like raindrops sinking into parched soil. For me, and the baby. He shook his head. He must have gotten creek water in his ears. “Say again?”
Instead of speaking, she stood and, taking his hand, placed it over her belly, below her navel, and above her Venus mound. “Yes, Eben. We will marry you. We will wear your name.”
For a moment, he was stunned into silence. He stood staring down at her, his hand on her gently rounded belly. “My child,” he said in absolute wonder.
Raven smiled up at him. “Our child.” She stepped away from him and went to the door.
“Raven, lass? Where are you going?”
“To find Meg and ask her to heat water for the tub. You can’t come to bed smelling like a fish.” She went out then, and Eben went to the window, threw open the sash and shouted his joyful relief to the night.
AN HOUR LATER, WHILE THE music and laughter floated up from downstairs, Eben snuffed the candles and climbed into bed. Fresh from his second bath that evening, and smelling of soap instead of the creek, he joined Raven under the covers. Her enthusiasm for his loving brought back memories of the sundrenched days and chilly Pittsburgh nights, with one exception. Tonight, there was no thought of parting, of giving her up, of being alone. There was only the life growing in her womb that they had created and the promise of the rest of their lives playing out just like this— with Raven sleeping softly against him. Her head pillowed on his shoulder.
Treading on the edge of sleep, Eben marveled at his luck. He’d never imagined being this happy, and he couldn’t help thinking it felt like a dream. Tomorrow, he might waken in a bed that was empty, and find that he’d imagined all of it… but tonight she was his own, and their future looked blindingly bright.
SOMETIME AFTER MIDNIGHT, THE LAST of the
guests departed to wend their way home by starlight. Minutes
ticked away, and the place got quiet. Zeb was one of the last to drag himself upstairs, grumbling as he went. Tyler Lee sat in the kitchen, within reach of the warmth from the fire. In one hand, he cradled a glass of whiskey. The other was discolored and swelling. Covered in mud and feeling like shit, he should have dragged his sorry behind up the back stairs to his bedchamber, but damned if knowing the now happy couple were just across the hall didn’t sour him on the idea of sleep.
He didn’t like to lose. In cards, or affairs of honor… and
certainly not affairs of the heart. And losing to that son-of-a- bitch St. Claire? It scalded him. And he wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted to do about it.
His thoughts dark, and his mood morose, he wasn’t even a little surprised when Mrs. Wharton emerged from the shadows. “My, my,” she said. “Aren’t you pretty?”
He lifted his glass and saluted her. “I thank you, madam. I see you have a taste for the gritty side of life.”
She shrugged, slowly coming into the light. Her jet-black dressing gown parted, revealing a tantalizing length of pale leg. “Gritty has its appeal, though who can say why we are drawn to certain people, certain elements? Suffice to say, we just are.” She ran a tapered white finger along his jaw, pausing beneath his clefted chin so she might tip his face up to her inspection. “Your face will heal, Mr. Jackson. What about your pride?”
Tyler managed a lopsided smile, though it pained him considerably. “If this is going to end with your husband storming down the stairs and challenging me to pistols at fifteen paces, then I’m afraid I’ll have to pass. I’ve had enough for one night, but thanks all the same.”
She laughed at the very idea of Patrick Wharton facing off with anyone. “Patrick? I assure you, sir, you are quite safe, and will not be forced to kill him. It is actually Eben and his child-bride I was thinking about. He did ask her to marry him, and I believe she said yes.”
“And that rankles?” Tyler assumed. “Why is that? It would appear that you have moved on and done quite well for
yourself. Why not leave well enough alone?”
She watched him from those slanted green eyes, a beautiful woman bent on mischief, and he found that despite his reluctant-sounding inquiry, he was intrigued. “I am not done with him, yet, Mr. Jackson,” she said softly. “My question for you is: do you still want the charming Miss Delacour?”
He did not need to answer. He was not obligated to tell her anything, yet his attraction to Raven wasn’t exactly a secret, and as far as he was concerned very little had changed. “More than is prudent, certainly—perhaps even sane, given St.
Claire’s bad temperament.”
Her smile deepened, and she fairly reeked of deceit. “Then, we are in agreement, and I can count on you to help me?”
“That depends,” Tyler Lee murmured. “Exactly what are you planning?”
EBEN WAS AN EARLY RISER by nature and was out of bed the next morning long before daylight. He dressed quickly in the clothing Meg had brought to him the night before, then turned back to the bed where Raven was sleeping. It pained him to leave her so soon, but he had business to take care of downriver, and it couldn’t wait, so he scrawled a brief note with pen and ink, and left it on his pillow… but as he opened the door, the movement of the air caught the edge of the paper and it fluttered briefly before wedging itself between the wall and the headboard.
When he got to the kitchen, he found Tyler Lee, seated in Meg’s rocker. He cradled a cup of coffee in his left hand. The knuckles of his right looked a great deal like Eben’s—swollen to twice their size, battered, and purple with bruising. The face he turned to him was almost as bad. His lip was swollen and cut, and his chin, cheek and eye bore most of the colors of the rainbow.
Eben had faced a similar spectacle in the mirror a few minutes ago. He was battered and bruised, and walked with difficulty. He was also the winner of Raven’s affections. It allowed him to be benevolent when the southerner greeted him with a caustic, “Mornin’, you self-satisfied prick.”
Eben slanted him a look, helping himself to coffee. The man was wearing the same clothing he’d worn last night, and it was obvious he hadn’t been to bed. “Get some rest,” Eben said. “You look like hell.”
“I felt the need for fortification before I tried to climb the stairs. From the feel of things, I think I have a broken rib—or maybe two.”
Eben said nothing. He knew for certain that his hand was broken. He’d snapped the bones on the point of the man’s stubborn chin. “Dare I hope that you learned something from the experience?”
“I learned not to trust you, that’s for sure,” Tyler said, and grimaced. “That last punch was wholly unnecessary.”
Eben grunted. “From your viewpoint, perhaps. I asked her to marry me. She said yes.”
Tyler looked glum. “When’s the happy event to take place?”
“As soon as I return. There’s something I need to see to directly. It’s a matter that must be settled before I can make further plans.” He drank his coffee and set the cup on the table.
“You’re leaving?” Tyler Lee said. “What about Raven?”
“I told you, it’s already settled. Now, be a good boy and mind your manners around my betrothed while I’m gone.” Eben went out, more confident than he’d been in years… for once discounting that trouble could follow when all was so incredibly right in his world.
“Boy?” Tyler said softly as his former friend went out.
There was a mere four years difference in their ages, Tyler just having celebrated his twenty-ninth birthday a month before.
He was hardly a “boy,” and the slur rankled just enough to goad his already dark thoughts into churning just a little faster. He was finally ready to brave the back stairs, stabbing pain in his ribs be damned.
By the time Raven came down for breakfast, Tyler was freshly washed, and freshly shaven, and had changed into
clean trousers and a fine linen shirt. A waistcoat of brown brocade fitted him neatly, and as long as he made no sudden moves, he appeared fit and fine, and little worse for wear despite last night’s brawl.
Mrs. Wharton was seated on the judge’s right, her husband directly across the board from her. Raven came into the dining room, but didn’t sit immediately. Instead, she glanced at the doorway, a pensive look on her face. “Meg?” she whispered, when the woman came in with a platter of freshly baked bread, butter, and hunks of crumbly cheese. “Have you seen Eben?”
“Not since last night, dear,” Meg said, managing somehow not to smile, though her mouth twitched at the corners.
Raven glanced at Tyler Lee, who shrugged and held out the chair next to his. She sighed and sat down, reluctantly allowing him the privilege of her company since Eben was nowhere to be found.
By now, Nan had come into the room with fluffy eggs and crispy bacon and ham slices. “Eben went off down the south road a few hours ago,” she offered. “His saddlebags looked to be full, and his rifle was in its scabbard.”
Raven’s face fell. She looked down at her plate, and Tyler noticed that her eyes glimmered more brightly than usual. He sought for, and found her hand beneath the table covering, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry, Rafe. He’ll be back. I’m sure of it,” he said, but he made sure his tone was bluff and insincere.
Down the board, Mrs. Wharton unwittingly aided his cause. “If you are looking for someone you can count on, Miss Delacour, then you’d best look elsewhere. Eben will never stay long enough in one place to establish roots. Nor, can he remain with one woman. If you are foolish enough to put stock in his promises, your pillow will be wet with tears, and your bed cold and empty.”
Meg overheard, and her reply cracked like a whip from the doorway. “She may sound like an expert where Eben’s concerned, but rest assured, Mrs. Wharton’s bed was never empty!”
“Ivory! Meg!” the judge cut in. “That’s enough!”
Raven pulled her hand from Tyler’s grasp and stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m really not very hungry after all.”
Down the board, the judge threw his napkin on the table, and fixed Raven with his steely stare. “Miss Delacour? If I may have a word with you in private?”
Raven swallowed her fear and followed him from the room.
He led the way to a study of sorts, tucked away beneath the stairs. One wall was steeply sloped, another had a bank of windows, outside of which snow was falling. It had turned sharply colder overnight, and the dead oak leaves rattled on their branches like skeletal fingers on a tombstone.
She glanced at the stern old man. He knew about Eben’s proposal, but did he know about the baby? She wished that Eben were here now, to stand beside her, to shield her. But he wasn’t here. And she didn’t understand his absence. He hadn’t mentioned that he would be gone, to Meg, or to Tyler Lee, or to anyone. And he’d led her to believe that all was well. Had he changed his mind about her and the baby?
The judge reached in a desk drawer and pulled out a brown envelope. Her name was scrawled across the front, and though she had never seen his writing, something deep inside told her that Eben had written it. The judge confirmed it. “Eben asked me to give you this. It contains a bank draft for two thousand dollars.”
“Two thousand—” Raven repeated. “But I don’t understand. Where would he get that kind of money?”
“He said that your brother had entrusted the funds to him before he left Ohio, and Eben arranged for the bank deposit. It’s in your name.”
Tecumseh had given it to Eben. And Eben had had it all along.
Her dear papa’s fortune. Money intended for her dowry. And he’d entrusted Zeb to give it to her as he was leaving.
“He really isn’t coming back,” she found herself saying, and the sudden ache in her heart was too much to bear. She
murmured an apology, and taking the envelope, ran from the room and up the stairs.
Tyler saw her hasty exit, and started to follow, but Meg caught his arm. “I think you’ve done enough harm already, don’t you?”
He kept his expression purposely bland. “I’m not sure what you mean by that.”
“Last night,” she said. “You did everything in your power to sabotage their evening. There’s an explanation for his absence, and though I don’t know what it is, you need to take a few steps back and give this a little time to sort itself out.”
“I just want Raven to be happy,” Tyler said, with complete sincerity.
“That’s where we differ, Mr. Jackson,” she said tightly. “I want them both to be happy. If you’re truly a friend of Eben’s and not just intent on causing mischief, you’ll stay out of this.”
“What makes you so sure he hasn’t left her?” Tyler wondered.
“I know him,” she said simply. She turned then and went up the stairs.
Tyler watched her thoughtfully. He would need to tread carefully where Meg was concerned. If she even suspected that he was working against Eben, she would put his ass, and his baggage, out in the middle of the south road.
