Anne Herries - Drawn to Lord Ravenscar

Paul knew he must not think of her. It would be impossible to marry the girl that his brother had loved, wanted as his wife...even if Lucy would look at him. As children they had quarrelled more often than not for even then, Lucy had followed Mark as an adoring puppy. Only once...at a ball in London just before they all went down to the country to prepare for the wedding...Only briefly then had Paul felt that Lucy might like him, might return the hopeless feelings of love he’d had for her.

He was mistaken. He must have been mistaken, for she had meant to go ahead with her wedding... She had been devastated when Mark was killed.

It was useless to repine. Paul could never have taken her from his brother, even if Mark had lived, and now it was impossible. His memory would always be enshrined in Lucy’s heart. She would never look at his insignificant brother.

Paul must put her out of his mind. There were enough beautiful ladies in Vienna to distract him, but apart from a brief flirtation or two with married ladies, Paul had remained indifferent to the female sex. He knew that he had aroused intense interest amongst the young women who had accompanied brothers or fathers to Vienna. Because he showed no more than polite interest in any of the gently-born young ladies, he was thought of as reserved, even cold, but that did not deter their interest. He was the heir to the Ravenscar fortune, attractive if not as devastatingly handsome as his brother had been, and personable. More than one lady of quality had tried to catch him in her net, but Paul behaved with impeccable politeness while remaining aloof...unreachable.

Paul found the attempts of some young women to compromise themselves with him vaguely amusing and took care to make sure that he was not caught behind closed doors alone with any of them. He had no desire to be married for his prospects...indeed, he had no desire to marry at all.

Paul knew that one day he would need to marry to secure the line, but for the moment he could not give serious consideration to the idea. As he shouted to his batman to pack his things, all Paul could think of was whether his father would live long enough to give him his blessing...and whether he could bear to live in the house that should have been his brother’s.

Chapter One

‘It was kind of you to visit an old man,’ Lord Ravenscar said and smiled as the young girl smoothed his pillows and set the glass of cold water closer to his hand. ‘Your pretty face has made me feel the sunshine, Miss Dawlish, and my days have been grey long enough.’

‘I wanted to visit you,’ Lucy assured him, ‘and Mama said that I might, as Jenny was visiting. You may remember that Adam’s wife is a good friend of mine, though I had not seen her for many months.’

A look of pain flitted through the old man’s eyes, for the day his nephew’s wife Jenny first arrived at Ravenscar was the day his eldest and adored son Mark had been murdered, nearly eighteen months ago now. The pain was plainly still too deep and grievous to be mentioned.

‘You were a long time in Italy, Miss Dawlish?’

‘We spent almost a year there,’ Lucy replied with a smile.

Her complexion was a little coloured by the sun, for her skin had taken on a slightly golden glow, which had not yet faded. Her hair was lighter than it had used to be, a silvery blonde and fine, making her eyes seem bluer and her mouth a delicate pink.

The room smelled of the roses she’d brought for him and was clean and sweet, for Jenny and Adam had come to stay to care for him in his last days, and the servants looked after their master, as they ought.

‘We visited Paris on the way home, but Papa was feeling lonely without us and so we came home last month.’

‘Yes, I dare say your father missed you. It is hard when your loved ones are far away...’ There was such pain and grief in his voice that Lucy was angry with Paul Ravenscar. How could he abandon his father this way? A month or two to come to terms with his grief would have been understandable, but no loving son could have stayed away this long, knowing that his elderly father was grieving.

Lucy had once thought that she might be in love with Paul. Already promised to his brother, whom she’d hero-worshipped for years, it had come to her suddenly when dancing with Paul at a ball in London that she might have preferred to marry him. She had been anxious in her mind and considered whether she should tell Mark when he was murdered. The shock had thrown them all, for how could someone as glorious be lost so easily to a murderer’s spite?

Guilt had swamped her and, for a time, she had wondered if Paul might have shot his brother in a jealous fit, but she had not truly believed it—and later, when Adam and Hallam trapped the real villain, Lucy had hoped... A little sigh rose to her lips, but she smothered it and smiled at Lord Ravenscar.

‘I am sure Captain Ravenscar will return soon, sir. Hallam wrote to tell him that you were unwell.’

‘He should not have done so,’ the old man said testily. ‘Paul was engaged on work for his country—one of Wellington’s aides. Why should he come rushing home just because—?’ He broke off and shook his head. ‘Though I shall admit that I have missed him sorely. I think I was unfair to him, Miss Dawlish. I do not believe I ever told him...’ He closed his eyes and a single tear trickled down his cheek. ‘Mark was the eldest and Paul...Paul stood in his shadow. That was unfair, Miss Dawlish...damnably unfair.’

‘Pray do not distress yourself, sir,’ Lucy said, feelings of pity tugging at her heart. ‘I am sure you will see him soon and then you may tell him yourself.’ She turned as the door opened and Jenny entered the room, bearing a tray with several little bottles, a glass and a hot drink.

‘Good morning, Uncle,’ Jenny said. ‘It is time for your medicine.’

‘I shall leave you with Jenny,’ Lucy said, ‘for you must take your medicines, sir—but I shall ride over again the day after tomorrow.’

‘Thank your mama for her calves’ foot jelly,’ he said. ‘I am sure I shall find it most restorative.’

‘Ride carefully,’ Jenny said. ‘It was lovely to see you again—and the silk shawl you brought me from Italy was gorgeous.’

Lucy inclined her head and then smiled at Jenny, before leaving the room. The two young women had talked and taken tea together before Lucy came up to visit Lord Ravenscar. Seeing Jenny acting the part of the mistress of the house had brought it home to Lucy that, had Mark lived, she would have been the one to care for her father-in-law. She had known him all her life and he was as an uncle to her, a dear friend—and it hurt her to see how fragile he had become. She could only pray that he would linger long enough to see his remaining son return.

Once again, she felt angry with Paul. How could he stay away all this time when his father needed him? As far as Lucy was concerned, it was disgraceful and she would not spare him when she next saw him...

* * *

‘How was dear Lord Ravenscar?’ Lady Dawlish asked when Lucy entered the house. ‘Was he able to speak to you, my love?’

‘He is failing and very weak, but fighting it, as you would expect of such a man,’ Lucy replied as she stripped off her riding gloves of York tan. She was a very pretty girl with a clear gaze, her hair wind tossed by a wayward breeze, a few springy tendrils hanging about her face where it had escaped from the fine net she wore to hold it when riding. ‘I felt so distressed for him, Mama. He so much wants to see Paul and fears he will not. How can he stay away all these months when he knows his father needs him? Surely he ought to have returned months ago?’

‘Do not be too critical,’ her mother said with a little frown. ‘You cannot know his circumstances, Lucy. The duke may have had need of him—’