Jane Feather: The Silver Rose

And somehow the bracelet had passed from Geoffrey's hands to Ravenspeare hands-following some other dark strand of blood and passion flowing between the two families.

Many years ago, Sarah would have wept for the memories that now consumed her, but her tears were long since dried The well had dried up when she'd understood how pointless tears were, how useless in the face of reality-a blind daughter to care for and a life to live and make good for both of them. She had had only one driving condition for the new life. Her son must never be touched by his mother's violation. He must never know in his mother this broken, dreadfufly damaged woman. Therefore his mother must disappear so completely that not even Geoffrey could find her. And she had succeeded.

The sound of voices outside brought an end to her reverie. She turned her attention to the pot of soup simmering on the trivet as Ariel bounced energetically through the door, Jenny following rather more slowly.

"Edgar says all the wedding guests have gone home, Sarah. Ranulf apparently told them that the celebrations were at an end and sent them packing! Isn't that unbelievable, even for my brother?" She hung her cloak on the peg by the door and began to lay out soup bowls as she spoke.

"But your husband and his friends are still there," Jenny put in.

"Yes." Ariel set a dish of salt on the table. "So Edgar says. And Simon told him to be ready to move the stud to Hawkesmoor the day after tomorrow." She sat down on a stool, propping her elbows on the table. And soon after that, the Hawkesmoor would be ready to leave himself.

She picked up her bracelet from the table and clasped it around her wrist, wondering idly why she'd forgotten to put it on that morning. But then, she was so miserable and preoccupied, it was amazing she remembered her own head.

Presumably, as soon as Simon was ready to leave Ravenspeare, he would come for her and cart her off to Hawkesmoor willy-nilly. An exasperated husband dealing with a recalcitrant wife.

Presumably, once the preparations were made for moving the stud to Hawkesmoor, that was what he would do. It would not be a simple transport, so it would take a day or two to put in train. She supposed she should be grateful that he was still willing to allow her to keep her horses-to pursue her hobby under his eye. But she wasn't. She knew what she wanted, and she knew she was crying for the moon.

She became aware of Sarah's eyes on her and flushed, knowing that the older woman would have read her thoughts.

She couldn't continue to cower in Sarah's cottage. It was cowardly and futile. And she couldn't bear him to come and drag her away. "I'd better go back to the castle," she said heavily. "Nothing's going to change; I don't know why I ever thought it might. I have no choices anymore."

Sarah smiled more to herself than to Ariel and ladled barley soup into the waiting bowls.

The three lords of Ravenspeare were gathered in the Great Hall when Simon returned to the castle.

"Ah, Hawkesmoor, well timed indeed. We're having a little party this evening. I do trust you and your friends will join us." Ranulf reached over the table to fill a crystal glass with wine, which he held out to the new arrival. "Try this. I'd value your opinion."

Simon took a sip and nodded. "A fine rioja." He sat down on the long bench. "It's very quiet in here these days."

"Sadly so," Roland said. "I must say I miss the festivities. But Ranulf has put together a little entertainment for us all tonight. You will attend, won't you?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, it's a very fine entertainment," Ralph babbled "You'll enjoy it, Hawkesmoor, I promise you."

Simon drank his wine thoughtfully. If they were up to one of their lethal little tricks again, he'd best be on his guard. And the most effective way to do that was to appear not to be. Lulled into a false sense of security, they would overreach themselves or spring their trap prematurely.

Of course, he could always refuse to play their nasty little games, but he was in a mood to meet his brothers-in-law head-on. He was growing bored with turning the other cheek.

He nodded pleasantly. "I'm sure it will be a most amusing evening, gentlemen."

Ralph giggled into his wine. "Oh, yes, most amusing."

"How long are you planning on staying, Hawkesmoor?" Roland inquired. "Not that I mean to say you're overstaying your welcome or anything… but Ranulf and I have a mind to return to London soon. Winter in the country pads damnably, don't you agree?"

"I'll be out of your hair in a day or two," Simon said easily. "I expect Ariel to return from Lady Kelburn's quite soon."

"Ah." Roland nodded and sipped his wine. "Quite so." He glanced toward the door as the clump of booted feet, the jangle of spurs, heralded the return of the cadre from a hawking expedition. "Gentlemen, my brothers and I have planned a treat for you this evening. A little entertainment in true Ravenspeare style."

Jack cast his whip and gloves on the table. "Sounds interesting." He raised an interrogative brow at Simon, who shrugged and pushed the wine bottle across to him.

"Try this. It's a fine rioja. Our host's cedars are beyond compare."

Simon had the air of one settled comfortably in the company of friends, Jack thought, startled to see the earl so much at ease with his brothers-in-law. Imperceptibly he had developed the same nonchalant, almost slovenly air as he sprawled at the table, cradling his wine goblet in one hand, his eyes heavy lidded as if he'd already been drinking deep.

But what might fool the Ravenspeares wouldn't fool the cadre. They took their cue from Simon, without as yet knowing why, and slouched at their ease at the table.

The girls arrived half an hour later. Fourteen of them, the cream of Mistress Hibbert's establishment. Ranulf had picked them carefully. He wanted them young, fresh, as yet unmarked by their profession, and among their number were two accredited virgins. Pale, frightened little girls, whose tawdry finery made them look like children dressing up in their mothers' clothes.

"Come, come, my pretties." Ranulf rose from the table, clapping his hands. "Come and drink… eat-See what we have for you. Delicacies I daresay you've never even dreamed of."

The servants had piled platters of oysters, smoked eel and trout, and golden-crusted venison patties on the table, but the younger girls' eyes all went as one to the basket of sweet pastries, the rhenish cream, the marchpane cakes, the bowls of syllabub.

"Come sit with me." Simon reached out and grabbed the hand of the littlest and frailest girl. He moved up on the bench to accommodate her and selected an oyster in its gray craggy shell. He held it to her lips and the child opened her mouth obediently, swallowing the slithery thing with a small shudder. She shuddered again when the big, fearsomely ugly man put an arm around her, drawing her against him on the bench.

Jack took charge of the second child, following Simon's lead, drawing her onto his lap as he tempted her with delicacies. The rest of the cadre picked as carefully, and the boldest and bravest were left for the lords of Ravenspeare.

The wine flowed, music played from the gallery, the servants disappeared to the kitchen. They knew from long experience that when the lords of Ravenspeare amused themselves as they intended to do this night, a wise servant made himself scarce.

"I'd never 'ave thought it of 'is lordship of 'Awkesmoor," Timson declared, sitting at the kitchen table, helping himself to the knuckle of veal Maisie put before him.

"I wish I knew what's goin' on wi' Lady Ariel." Gertrude plumped down on the bench opposite him. "Try a little o', this lamprey stew, Mr. Timson." She spooned a generous helping onto his plate.

"Lady Ariel's stayin' wi' Mistress Sarah and Miss Jenny, Timson declared, clearing his throat, waving aside the refilled spoon hovering over his platter. "Thankee, Mistress Gertrude, that'll do me."