Chapter Four

Samantha danced away the rest of the evening until intermission. The unbearable heat in the room pleaded for a need to find crisp night air. She stepped out onto the balcony alone. Her widow status allowed her ability to take small license without endangerment to her reputation. Hah. She pondered how a mere two weeks of her miserable marriage could have so affected her status.

While she mused, she became aware of a male presence quite near. The strong scent of sandalwood filled the air. She knew without a need to peer that it could only be Ravensmere who soon rose from his seat to join her.

“Lady Winston.” He nodded. “You look up to the sky. Do you enjoy the stars?”

She turned to face him. “Yes, Your Grace, I do. I love star gazing and the constellations,” spoken with effused tranquility. “You mentioned your late wife believed in astrology. Do you?” She held her fan at her side, clutching it.

“I’m not sure I know enough about it although I’m aware of the four elements, positive and negative types, the planets and the houses. However, don’t ask me to explain as I haven’t studied these in detail,” Ravensmere said with an air of confidence.

Few noblemen of her acquaintance ever read or studied the Zodiac, except for her brother.

“My tutor became fascinated with astrology, Your Grace. As a young girl, the signs captivated me, so you could say I’m more than a student. Perhaps an ardent admirer of the movement of the sun, moon, and planets is a better term.” Did she attempt to show him a woman could be well versed in subjects that might shock him?

“What is your sign, Lady Winston?” He edged closer to her.

“I’m Gemini, Your Grace. And you?” She’d test him to see how much he knew.

“Aquarius is my sign.”

She called to mind their two signs’ compatibility. However, she wasn’t like-minded—yet.

The music resumed, and Ravensmere inquired, “Perhaps you’d save the last waltz for me if you haven’t promised it to someone else?”

“Your Grace, I haven’t, and would be delighted to dance with you. It is quite the latest rage from Europe. It amazes that the ton has countenanced this European fad as respectable.” Her hand shook. She hoped he paid no mind to her silly reaction. “Do you reside in London for the season?” she asked to dismiss her woolgathering.

“I have a townhouse off Cavendish Square, but I spend most of my time at Ravensmere, my country estate in Hampshire. There are those who consider me a stuffy political recluse, as the pressmen would say, but like you, I have causes I wish to espouse, so I tolerate these events.”

“The word tolerate speaks of many things.” She tilted her chin toward him and aligned her head to his lips in invitation.

Raven bent toward Samantha as her familiar scent of lemon fogged his brain. Control, old chap. Control, he cautioned. He fingered his monocle and then slipped it in its proper place.

“One of my personal goals is to leave my estate in a better condition than I received it. I also want to promote industrialization in England so it can take its rightful place in the future of the world.”

“Those are lofty ambitions, Your Grace. Are they attainable?” She tilted her head to him again.

“I don’t wish to sound pompous, but I never take on anything I can’t achieve.” He knew each precise detail of what must be done to create employment. As for the lady beside him, that became quite another story.

Raven placed both hands on the balcony balustrade and looked up at the stars. “The war has taken a significant toll on England’s treasury, Lady Winston.” He spoke loudly of his great concern for his country. He held her gaze yet again. The vague silken sensuous thread continued to weave its spell within him, perhaps a promise of things to come. “However, I digress. I don’t wish to bore you with practicalities.”

“I’m not bored with the acquisition of knowledge about my country from so esteemed a gentleman like you. Au contraire, my belief is that women should become more involved in politics,” she stated in a firm voice.

“Lady Winston, I don’t believe the world is ready for women such as you…yet.”

“And why not?” her voice demanded, her breaths deep.

Raven was sure she prepared to do battle. Her indignation was the ultimate amusement to a man such as him.

“It would take a powerful man and woman to accomplish such a change in course. Do you feel you are ready to face the world?” He smiled.

“I believe like you, Your Grace, I can do anything if I set my mind to the task. I’ve not yet found the right man who will work alongside me, but if he does exist, I’ll find him.”

He shook his head. “What a pity then. We could have had a fun ride.” A ripple of mirth escaped.

When Samantha gazed at him, he noticed the curve to her long neck and the exquisite breasts that invited his attention. He exhaled at length. This lady, her fragrance, and the way she held her body, promised the essence of female pleasures. A strong, potent desire overcame him. It seemed more sensual than sexual, so it confused him for the moment. Sensuality to a man of his nature could be reckless and dangerous, and so unlike him, at least for the past ten years. The reactions could intoxicate, yet he welcomed their return from dormancy. He felt full of life. Yes, her beauty, though obvious to the viewer, spoke not of the totality of the attraction. Her other qualities also intrigued him. He could say her uniqueness appealed to him. Or was it her mysterious complexity?

Yanked away from his musings, her lilted voice asked, “Your Grace, I haven’t seen you at the soirees and balls. Have you been away?”

“I’ve returned from my holdings in the East.” The war played havoc with the merchant ships, and he liked to view things first hand. A smile lit his face. “I’m proud of the accomplishments. There is excitement about the goings-on, perhaps even equivalent to the intoxication by a beautiful woman.” Raven held her gaze. “Have you been to India, my lady?” He studied her expression and narrowed his eyes in discernment.

“With much regret, no, but I do read everything I can about the country. My Aunt Minerva spent many years there with her husband. She regales us with her stories and adventures which, I might add are many.” Her winsome smile conveyed her interest.

“My futuristic attitude, and willingness to take risks if the rewards are great, have earned me considerable wealth. I do not boast. A good deal of my time and effort is spent in investments and preparation for the future of my country, my family and heirs.” Raven felt it necessary to add, “I don’t know if there is enough time in my life to accept women in politics.”

“It’s a pity then, Your Grace. You’ll never know what you’ve missed.” She glanced at him over her fan. Her eyes told a story he might want to hear—in bed. He connected with her eyes that appeared to blaze, his mind submerged in them. Damnation, Samantha Winston, what a couple we would make.

“However, you should also know, I’m not adverse to the premise. I just don’t know if it’s attainable in the short term.” His dark eyes assessed all he saw. Her body intrigued him, her high spirit challenged, but it was her mind that fascinated in a sexual manner. The last thought amused and perplexed that such an anomaly was possible.

Raven paused. “Speak in honesty with me,” he said in a firm tone. “Do you desire to become involved in politics?”

“My aunt says behind every influential man is a powerful woman. I don’t desire to be behind my man. Rather I would be beside him—like equals—but I do admit I’m not quite ready at this time. It’s not at the top of my list of priorities.”

“Like equals, you say.” The corners of his mouth turned up. “What is on the top of your list?” he asked with humor as well as interest.

“I believe that topic would warrant another conversation, my lord. Hmmm, I misspoke, Your Grace,” she said.

“You may call me Raven when we are in private,” he whispered with a tone of extreme intimacy. “I shall call you by your given name.”

“What makes you so sure we will have private moments?” In the moonlight, her eyes danced as if only for him.

“Lady Samantha, I believe I told you I would wager quite a bit that we will. You are an enigma, you know. I’m one who likes the opportunity to solve puzzles and mysteries.”

Her head tilted toward him with a gracious smile. “Raven, then I shall look forward to such enlightenment. I, too, like challenges.”

The sound of his name as it rolled from her lips held a familiar sensual tone.

“Then we are agreed, dear Samantha. Where would we start?” His eyes held hers again.

“Why not start at the beginning?” Samantha teased. “It appears we are on a first name basis. In private,” she added.

“Strangers when we met, and now we are here together on a balcony under the canopy of a dark starry night,” he answered. “I wonder.”

“What?” she asked.

“Do we begin where we left off?” Raven countered. His mind raced to the kiss, or was it kisses?

“I doubt that, Your Grace. The kiss was meant to assist you in avoiding harm. I don’t know you that well. Perhaps we should get to know each other better and longer before we attempt more?”

“Yes, perhaps we should, but there is something in the air, Samantha. I do believe you have conjured up some magic. I’m invigorated with everything—the stars, the night, and mostly that you and I converse on unusual subjects of interest, dear lady.” No doubt, he found her bewitching.

“I like magic, don’t you? It’s one of my favorite words.”

“I don’t know. There is nothing mystical in my life.” His tone saddened.

“Then one day when I know you better, I will take you on a magical ride in a chariot made of silver and moonlight with Pegasus, our winged horse, through the firmament in all of its beauty and majesty.” The lilt in her voice tempted.

“I can see the universe in your eyes. Perhaps I would wish to get lost in them. Do you feel you could allow that?” Raven moved closer to her.

“I warn you, Your Grace. Things are not always what they seem.”

“I don’t take heed of most warnings.”

“I’m told I run hot and cold. Can you handle both fire and ice?”

His face was a whispered breath from hers. “It all depends on how much fire is underneath the ice,” he answered, and couldn’t believe he just uttered that statement to this monumental woman.

“Your Grace, I feel a need to divert our conversation. It’s quite hot in the ballroom, and I came out here for a breath of fresh, cool air. Instead, I found you. You seem to bring warmth with you wherever you go.” She flicked open her fan.

“And you have determined this to be a fact?” he asked in amusement.

“I would attest to it with absolute certainty.”

His eyes held a hint of humor. “Is there anything in which I could assist you? Perhaps you would care for a glass of cool water?”

“I do believe it would take more than water, Raven.” She moved back a pace or two but found that the man was whisper close again. “I have the notion any water you poured would sizzle.”

“I have an equal notion chariot rides with you might fan the fires even more.”

The firmament, winged horses, silver chariots and a goddess in a sheer dress could appeal. The vision of such became a sinful wish on his part. He closed his eyes to blind his memory of another woman who also was such an unknowing sorceress—his late wife.

Damnation. A hidden part of his soul wanted to enjoy such pleasures again, but not with his mistress. He determined Samantha not only believed in magic; she conjured it all too well. The tale she wove with such ardor made him long for her brand of mysticism with every bone in his body. If he could, he’d like to have his hands glide over her. No. No. No. He questioned his sanity. Such thoughts were unfamiliar and so contrary to his sensibilities.

The scent of her hung heavy in the air. Raven summoned his control, but it didn’t answer.

“I suggest we return to the ballroom, Samantha. The air has not cooled. Nor should we tempt fate or each other.”

He extended his arm, and she took hold of it as they passed through the French doors to society.