Lord Trent’s breath caught in his throat.
The overstuffed wraith at his side was practically panting
in fury. “I’ll beat her for it! Do you see her, sir? Do
you see what a shameless animal she is?” Mrs. Hoggerty
crossed her arms. “She’s a witch!”
He nodded with a smile, his eyes never leaving the little
figure perched on her stone reveling in the storm. Her
impromptu dance was almost gypsy-like and he was
immediately taken with her. “Calm yourself, madam. She
is…free-spirited.”
He’d hoped she’d have a bit of her father’s bearing and
braced himself for disappointment but this—this was a gift
from the gods. She had aristocratic lines and even at the
gangly age of ten, he could see beyond the raw coltish
beauty to her potential.
My god, the glorious potential!
She was almost feral in her pleasure, an unashamed vixen
cavorting in the cold spring rain as unaware of her beauty
and appeal as a cub of its claws.
She’ll suit my plans perfectly.
Lord Trent shook his head. He’d nearly missed it. When a
friend had confessed of his bastard daughter’s existence
and begged him to look into the fate of a child he’d lost
track of after some vague tragedy, he’d promised to see to
the girl—without a single thought of wasting a moment on
it.
But a few weeks later and a dark turn of events, the Earl
of Trent had begun to think about revenge and what the
perfect game would look like. And he’d remembered his
promise and the existence of a girl without legitimate
family. And his imagination had seized on the notion of
using her like a bit player in a grander scheme…
It would take time, true cunning, craft, and best of all,
just the right pieces on the board. The wait would be long
but it would make the taste of vengeance all the sweeter.
He’d always been obsessed with games but in the pitch black
of an empty ball room, the Earl of Trent had decided that
he was just the man to demonstrate to the world what dark
justice could look like when mastered by a genius in a
gentleman’s form. The world preached forgiveness but
Geoffrey couldn’t remember the taste of it. In recent
years, he’d begun to accept only the dictates of his own
needs and the inner voices that ruled him.
And ever since he’d met Phillip Warrick…
A passing dislike had coalesced into pure hatred for the
young rake and Trent gave in to the intricate and
convoluted scenario that unfolded in his mind with a
seductive allure that soothed the storm in his head. He
would build a labyrinth of pain that he would guide Phillip
Warrick into and deprive him of his happiness.
I’ll teach him what humiliation truly is…
Trent’s gaze narrowed as he leaned closer to the glass
window, and his smile widened. He would need a few years
to polish and train her for what he had in mind, but who’s
to say he couldn’t enjoy it?
Mrs. Hoggerty saw his smile and matched it with a wicked
knowing look of her own. “Free spirited? She suits you,
does she? Looking for a scullery maid, your lordship?”
“Please gather what things she has and prepare her to
leave, Mrs. Hoggerty.”
“Hah! She’s got nothing and I ain’t just handing her over
without—“
He unfolded his wallet and took out a few notes. Her
immediate silence was almost comical.
Almost.
She’d sell me a dozen girls without blinking even if I told
her I was procuring them for a blood sacrifice.
“Prepare her to leave.” He shed any pretext of civility,
deciding it was a waste. “Now.”
Her mouth dropped open making her look like a bovine fish
gaping for air but she dropped a quick curtsey as her face
flushed red. “As you wish, your lordship. I’ll get her
then.”
He shook his head. “I’ve changed my mind, Mrs. Hoggerty.”
“Y-you don’t want her?”
“Very much. But I think I’ll fetch her myself.” He
straightened his coat to refasten it against the weather.
“Our business is concluded. See to it my coachman is ready
and the gates are open.”
He breezed past her without another word, heading down a
narrow stairwell toward the ground floor and the stony
courtyard. He put on his hat and stepped into the rain.
“Tell me your name,” he commanded, wondering if she’d yelp
from surprise at his sudden appearance or turn into a
mouse.
She lowered her arms slowly, finishing a careful pirouette
before tilting her head like a small bird. Curiosity
flashed in eyes the color of smoke. “It is Raven Wells.
And your name?”
“I am Geoffrey Parke, the Earl of Trent. I know your
father and I’ve come to take you from this place if you
wish it.”
The joy that sprang to life in her eyes was so pure he
almost felt a tug at his deadened conscience to let her go.
Almost.
I’m no weak man to turn at the first obstacle. And you, my
pretty little bird, have a part to play in the game ahead.
Every drama needs a leading lady…
Raven couldn’t believe it. She’d been daydreaming about
storm fairies and some nonsense about sprouting wings and
flying away as soon as her father, the King of Clouds,
realized she was there. And now a man in a top hat and a
grey wool coat with jet buttons was offering to take her
away. The King of Clouds had come after all!
Raven smiled and did what she’d always done.
She accepted whatever was ahead with the faith of a
creature that still clung to hope.
“Well?” he asked coolly and she realized she’d failed to
answer him.
“Yes! I would very much wish to go, your lordship!”
“Then we’ll go.” He held out his gloved hand and she took
it, placing more than one forbidden toe off of the stone
square and allowing him to lead her from the yard.
“Can I bring Pepper? She’s five but she’s very—“
“No.”
Raven held her tongue, despite the hundreds of questions
that began to clamor inside of her head. She had no desire
to irritate her savior and decided that there would be time
enough to ask about her father, or where he was taking her,
or even how he had found her. As for Pepper, she was sure
that there would be a better time to ask and convince him
that Pepper would be no trouble at all and that Raven would
happily share her food and provisions to make room.
At the outer gate, a black carriage with gold painted
piping was waiting and Mrs. Hoggerty stood by the stone
arch, her mouth pinched into a tight line of disapproval.
Raven lifted her chin a fraction of an inch and the instant
she had one foot safely on the other side of Greenwood’s
locked iron gate, she risked sticking her tongue out at the
woman who had tormented her for months.
But instead of the stream of curses Raven expected, the
woman smiled maliciously and leaned in to whisper, “The
Devil has you in hand now.”
Raven blinked in surprise.
“Miss?” the coachman asked as gestured for her to climb up
the step he’d unfolded from the carriage.
The interior was the sumptuous color of cherries, velvet
and leather bespoke luxury she’d never seen before and the
warmth of it beckoned. Raven swallowed hard. Her new
benefactor was already inside and the earl leaned forward
just a bit to give her a challenging look. “Are you
coming? Yes or no?”
“Yes.” She frowned at the way her voice sounded small and
shaky but she took the coachman’s hand all the same and
climbed up the steps, doing her best to ignore Mrs.
Hoggerty’s ominous smiles and the haunting sound of her
final words.
The Devil has you in hand now.
Does he?
Well, then, let’s see where he takes me.
