ROOK AND RAVEN: The Celtic Kingdom Trilogy Book One (6 page)

“My dear, are you cold?  Your hand is trembling,” Edward smiled down at her with concern.

“No, no.  I think maybe the performance this evening took more out of me than usual.  I do hope I’m not coming down with something,” like love or even lust with Sebastian she thought. Oh stop thinking about him! She berated herself.

“I see my sister over by the garden doors.  I think she was rather hoping we would be making an announcement this evening and is probably dying of curiosity.  We’d best go and speak with her,” Edward led her around the crush of people at the edge of the dance floor.

“I find it hard to believe she’d hope you would marry an actress.  She has been terribly kind to me but she must have hoped for you to make a much more brilliant marriage.”

“Remember, my own mother was not nearly as well born as you and all my family has an affection for the theater.  If the fourth Duke could marry whom he chose, why not me?  We Tamworth’s have always admired true talent, and you my dear have a gift.  What’s the good of being a Duke if I can’t make society bend just a little to my will?  I can’t imagine anyone looking better in the Duchess’s tiara,” he smiled.

They were standing with Lady Georgina, sipping champagne, and recovering from a rather vigorous set of country dances when they were interrupted.  A dark clad figure, obviously not in evening attire, was cutting across the room toward them.  Jessy recognized Mr. Burnell, Edward’s secretary.  What could possibly have brought him out this late and to a ball to chase down his employer?  It couldn’t be anything good.  His normally pale face looked flushed and his cravat had been very hastily tied.

“My dear,” Edward took Jessy’s hand, “I think our evening has come to an abrupt end.  Nothing would bring Mr. Burnell here but a great emergency.  I shall have to leave you with Georgina.  You have the use of my carriage.  I shall instruct my coachman when I leave.” With a final kiss of her hand he turned to join Mr. Burnell, who stood respectfully, but impatiently waiting at the edge of their group.

“Whatever could have happened?” Lady Georgina wondered.  “I know Edward and my husband have been engaged in some rather hush
hush dealings of late with the Ministry, but with the war so long over what could possibly be important enough that it must be seen to at this hour?”

“Now my lady, we must not speculate.  If the war taught us anything, it was not to discuss state affairs in public.” Lord Harrow’s heavy handed advice and rather reprimanding tone brought a curl to Lady Georgina’s lips, quickly erased.  As the wife of one of the highest ranking members in the ministry, she could never have been accused of indiscretion.  If Harrow had been privy to half the things she had known during the war against Napoleon, he would have white hair and probably have taken to drink more than he already did.

“Jessamy my dear, it is really too bad that Edward had to leave, but never fear, escort or not, we shall contrive to see you enjoy yourself,” Lady Georgina reassured Jessy, but immediately noticed that Jessy hadn’t heard a word she had spoken.

For while the others were maybe too far away or too busy conversing, she had heard the cryptic words that Mr. Burnell had spoken to Edward and which seemed to say all that Edward needed to hear, “He has landed.” 

Who had landed? She wondered just as she realized that Lady Georgina had spoken to her.

“Forgive me.  I’m afraid I was distracted my lady,” she smiled.

“Oh no apologies,” Georgina laughed and fluttered her fan, “That kind of distraction I readily forgive.  Why even after ten years of marriage, it’s embarrassing to admit, but Robert can still distract me in exactly the same way.”

Jessy smiled again, but felt a twinge of guilt.  Georgina believed Jessy was admiring Edward, when she had really only been interested in the scent of mystery and excitement she had caught.  

“We are going on to the Beltram rout shortly.  Care to join us?  I wouldn’t want Edward to think I didn’t look after you, and I would love the company.”

“Actually I had turned down an invitation since Edward and I were attending this ball.  You know he doesn’t usually care for more than one event an evening. Mrs. Whittier and some of her friends have asked me to accompany them tonight.  If you won’t think me rude, I believe I will join them after all.”  And she would go, Jessy thought, despite the fact that where they were going was not exactly what Edward or Lady Georgina would approve. She caught the faint moue of disapproval Lady Georgina made at the mention of Mrs. Whittier but shrugged it off.  The chances Georgina would be her sister-in-law were fading fast so she might as well stop worrying about courting her favor so assiduously.  

“If that will make you happy my dear.  Remember to take Edward’s carriage; I like to know you are safe.  I forget how young you are sometimes, I used to enjoy the company of a faster set myself in my youth,” she sighed. “My lady,” Jessy laughed, “You are barely a handful of years older than me!  Don’t speak as if you were in your dotage.  I see no decrease in the number of admirers you gather everywhere you go!  You are still the reigning beauty of London.”

“Do you have a mirror?  I believe I have passed that torch on now,” she frowned in exaggerated anger at Jessamy and everyone laughed politely.  “Well, enjoy the last days of your freedom young lady, for if Edward and I have any say in it, you shall be leg shackled before the season is over,” she whispered quietly and slyly as she rose and took the arm of Colonel Leigh.  

Jessy stood for a moment marooned at the edge of the room. However would that dear lady feel towards her when she told Edward once and for all that she could not marry him?  They had played such an instrumental role in seeing her overcome the stigma attached to being an actress. Tamworth’s suit had become an open secret in London and the gentlemen’s clubs had all laid heavy odds on her accepting.  What sane woman would not?  This one, she thought rather despairingly.  Maybe she wasn’t sane at all.  She would be further proving her lack of sense by going with Mrs. Whittier’s set to Bridge House.  She knew she shouldn’t but, she was going anyway.

So far she had not been caught out nor done anything that could come back and tarnish her reputation.  Sean insisted it was only a matter of time, and he was surely right. David had one great row with her about it and since then had refused to speak of it anymore.  The strain of trying so hard to be so
correct, so ladylike and to suppress the devil in her had just become too much.  She thought of these nights out as a way to release some of the pressure before she burst.  For years now her life had been a tight rope walking act and she was heartily tired of it. 

Maybe she would be happier to be like the other women she worked with and give up this life trying to pursue complete respectability.  Did it really suit her?  And did she really need to live up to the standards of the
ton
? Life did exist outside these rarified circles.

But who was she trying to fool?  How often had she felt as if her mother’s ghost was present?  Each time she had almost crossed the line, such as when Viscount Darlington had made her first offer of a
carte blanche
when she had so little and was struggling, there was the shade of her mother.  She could not betray her mother and her blood to become a high class whore.  No matter that she didn’t think less of her fellow actresses who did do it,
she
couldn’t do it.  She could live with relative respectability outside of society.  She had her own house, her own career, true friends, but then she hadn’t worked to be accepted in society all these years just for herself.  

Jessy spied Mrs. Whittier walking from the supper room with her usual horde of admirers surrounding her.  Rakes, Corinthians, and a few dandies in outrageous colors, vying for her attention.  She was a willowy, raven haired beauty who exuded sexual allure as naturally as breathing.  It was said that

Byron himself had been love sick for her and that she would have nothing to do with him.  “Mad as a hatter and more trouble than he is worth.  Now if the man had a dime of his own he might be worth a week or two, but surely no more than that!” she was reported to have said of the infamous poet. 

It sounded just like Ellen.  Byron, of course, had not been pleased at the characterization or rejection.  Ellen did no more than shrug him off.  Ellen Whittier always did exactly as she pleased, but that was her prerogative being married to a man rich as Croesus and needing the approval of no one.

As Jessy made her way down the steps and to the coach she couldn’t shake a feeling between her shoulder blades that eyes were following her.  It was a prickle of awareness, but seemingly without source as when she turned she could not spot anyone overtly staring at her.  She was used to people looking at her, but this felt different and it made her uneasy.

Sebastian had walked from David’s lodging to Grosvenor Square working himself up to an apology.  Strategically he knew he was supposed to continue his character of worthless nobleman but the need to find Jessy and apologize overrode all else.  After unburdening himself to his friend, David had agreed he needed to try and set things right as soon as possible.  It was highly probable the Duke would propose again tonight. David clearly told Sebastian if he had any idea at all of attempting to court Jessy he needed to stop that from happening. When he complained he wasn’t sure he had any future aspirations
regarding Jessamy Powers, David had simply stared at him like he had lost his mind and started laughing like a loon. 

So, here he was making his way toward the woman who had just earlier made him angry enough to throttle her.  He sighed with resentment, why did life have to be so damned complicated?  He was a grown man now, but still found she made him want to pull her hair one second and kiss her the next.  The thought of hair pulling and kissing put a smile on his long lips.  Maybe their childhood play had been nothing more than a prelude to passion.  

Turning into the square he saw Tamworth practically leap unto a horse held waiting for him.  It was highly odd to see a gentleman in evening wear riding off on a horse with such urgency.  No doubt in Sebastian’s mind what the scene meant, but for now he was not in play and his time was his own, at least for tonight.  Based on Tamworth’s hurry Sebastian could probably expect this to be his last night to be free to do as he pleased. Tamworth might also not have had time to propose yet again; hopefully. This could actually be an opportunity for a clear field.  

He continued up the street toward the brightly lit mansion only to see a coach pull up and Jessy come down the steps.  He stopped and leaned against the rail of a neighboring house to watch her.  He saw her turnabout and look around her curiously and he knew she had felt him watching her.  She didn’t see him and so he was free to follow her with his eyes.  She was even more of a feast for the eyes than he had remembered.  She had been lovely as a coltish
girl but as a woman she was stunning and clearly aristocratic.  He had been a simpleton to treat her as anything other than the lady she was.  There had always been a sense of imperious self-confidence about her even when up to her knees in mud digging mussels or with a fishing pole in her hand.

He discerned the coat of arms on the coach and suddenly wanted to haul her out.  It was a definite feeling of possessiveness and something much worse; he wanted to deny it was jealousy but the green eyed monster was roaring.  He had rushed here from David’s house intent on speaking with her.  Did he follow her or not?  Where was she going on her own in that coach when the Duke was obviously off on some pressing business?  Was she going home?  Should he follow her there or wait until tomorrow?  Not knowing when he would have this chance to speak with her again he decided to follow.  “You fellow!” he approached a footman. “Where is that coach headed?”

The footman looked a bit furtive and strangely reticent.  Sebastian held out a crown and repeated his question.  The footman’s eyes nearly popped at the largesse and he glanced about again before speaking.

“The lady is heading to Bridge House milord,” he said as if the words were being dragged from him and were barely audible.

“The devil you say!” he couldn’t contain his surprise.  He didn’t believe that place had changed much over the years so just what the bloody hell was she doing going there?  

“Get me a hackney fellow, quickly!” he ordered.

“Yes milord, right away!” and the young man bounded off to call one.  It arrived almost immediately and Sebastian was rattling away in pursuit.

“If you believe in devils,” a more senior footman pronounced quietly, “I’d say one was after Mrs. Powers as we speak. God help the sweet lady!”

Sebastian found himself in a black introspection as the coach headed closer to the river.   He had spilled all the unpleasant truth to David, even the parts the Foreign Office would not want anyone outside their secretive circles to know.  It had been painful not to mention embarrassing at certain points.  As much as he had shared with David, David had also been highly informative in his own right.

David had made him realize there was much he had not known, much that he had not really considered.  She had given, he had taken, and when he had finally got the nerve to do what he had thought the right thing, he had been stopped; forcibly.  He hadn’t been good enough for her then, he knew that now, but the last years had changed him deeply, and he hoped, for the better. 

It was a miracle she had not only survived, but prospered.  Questions remained as to why she felt impelled to run away like that, but he had every intention of finding out.  Had his mother confronted her?  Threatened to reveal she was no longer a virgin? He could only be grateful she had people like David and the Powers family to act as her guardian angels.  That didn’t mean if