Chapter Nineteen

Winston House, London

Samantha’s maid brought up a tray of tea and hot water for her ablutions. “Good morning, milady. Which dress shall you wear?” She went to the dress closet prepared to make a selection.

“I’m not sure of my brother’s plans so fetch me a morning peignoir, perhaps the blue? I’ll brush my hair back and secure it with barrettes to keep it in place.”

She sipped her tea and couldn’t help but think how everything in her life now evolved. The thought of a week in the country at Raven’s estate excited. The man intrigued her, yet he evoked many conflicted sensations within her. Strong ones at that.

When she arrived in the dining room, the side table presented the usual breakfast selection, and she took care to select small portions.

“Good morning, brother.” Samantha smiled and then she kissed his forehead. “Is Aunt Min not up yet?”

“Sister, good morning. I believe she’s in the kitchen with the staff.”

Samantha sat in her usual chair tasting the savory ham’s rich flavor.

Aunt Minerva walked in and greeted her.

“We are anxious for your news, Brandon. Will you not tell us now?” asked Aunt Min.

“I’m not sure where to start.” He informed them that they would spend a full week at Ravensmere. “One of the guests is Prince Nicholas of Russia.”

“I do so admire Russian princes,” Lady Minerva commented. “Samantha, you will know how royalty socializes. I’m excited for you both.”

Brandon mentioned some other members of the proposed cartel would be there. “I’m much interested in the granary.”

He placed his cutlery down and in a pensive tone, his forehead creased. “There will be discussion about the goals of the cartel and details on what is needed to accomplish them. The confidential brief outlines the details, and after money exchanges hands, each member will receive specific assignments.”

Her brother spoke again. “I hope you ladies won’t be bored, and of course, you don’t have to come on the inspection tour if you don’t wish. I mention this because I’ve pretty much decided to take advantage of the offer to participate in the cartel. I’m scared to death.” His smile appeared to make light of his last sentence.

Samantha noted her brother’s excitement and his animated handsome face. “Brandon, I don’t intend to be bored. I will find a lot to content myself. Don’t worry about me,” tongue in cheek while her thoughts wandered to wonderful places where she could be with the duke to get to know him better.

“What do you know of this Prince Nicholas, Brandon? Will he be one of the investors?” Aunt Minerva asked. “You do know I have a fondness for all things Russian, and there were no boundaries when it came to its men. Ah, yes, they were such wonderful barbarians.”

“Aunt Min!” Samantha raised one hand to her lips.

Brandon answered, “I know what I’ve read about him. He has youth, wealth, and political connections, and one brother, Sergei. They were part of the Russian aristocracy related to the late Czar. Nicholas received his education at Oxford and has spent the last ten years in England. That is all I know for now. In some circles, he’s considered a rake or a libertine.”

“Tell me, nephew, what Russian aristocrat is not?” Aunt Minerva smiled when she interjected, “We will consort with Russian nobility.”

She addressed her niece, “Samantha, we should change and prepare our trunks for what we will take. You will need new dresses and time is short. I suppose, Brandon, we should give our host a gift of appreciation. What do you give a man who has everything?”

“Something he does not have, Aunt?” Samantha smiled. “Or something he’d appreciate. He is, after all, an Aquarian, cosmopolitan and possesses a literary mind, so perhaps we should look for a special book. He might appreciate a first edition.” Samantha’s mind conjured a different gift for him. She planned with care how it would be presented—in private, with an invitation to the intimacy he always spoke about with her.

The ladies returned to their rooms and chatted about fashion and the need for new accessories and bonnets. Samantha returned to the dining room and asked, “Brother, are we to bring our maid or will one be provided. Do you know?”

“Raven advised a maid is available to each of you. While I don’t need a valet, he has provided me with one. Interestingly, there are no vails required either. He pays his staff well and does not believe in the tradition of gratuities after a visit. Novel, isn’t it? It makes one want to enjoy his generous hospitality.”

Samantha returned upstairs and explained her findings to Lady Minerva. “Aunt, there should be a gift from the family, but I would like to give him a special gift. It has to be something personal, something he’ll remember me by.” Her voice trailed off as she went to her room.

Her aunt said, “I think he will remember you, Samantha. Now hurry and get dressed. We have much to do. There’s excitement in my old bones. Lady Margaret and I will recall so many memories. Perhaps her age has mellowed her. Don’t forget to bring your emeralds. Russian Prince or not, he would have to pay a small fortune for such well-cut stones, or ask his aunt to disclose the location of the Russian crown jewels.”

Samantha sighed, “Aunt, you are impossible, but I love you. Yes, I will bring the jewels, and you will exercise care with the pistol in your reticule. I don’t think Raven would appreciate our use of his manor house for target practice.”

“Nonsense, child, I will use it only if provoked. Though I do have a fondness for Russian men, they can be so romantically uncivilized.”

****

Raven arrived in London and called upon the Winston household to deliver the invitations to the family in person, an unheard of circumstance. Samantha stood in the garden in a dress of light blue muslin embroidered with violets. Soft curls framed her face.

“Good morning, Samantha. Your brother told me I could find you here,” he bowed to her curtsy.

“Good morning, Raven. How nice to see you back in town. Will we see more of you?” She pulled her shawl around her shoulders.

He rubbed his hands together. “Is that a question or a request?”

Samantha graced him with a provocative glance, “Both.”

Raven took an envelope from his breast pocket and handed her a separate invitation, which she opened in his presence.

Samantha,

I’m honored you and your family have accepted my invitation to visit Ravensmere. It would please me to spend special time together. There is much I would show you.

With Fondness,

Raven

She read the note and the use of his intimate name signified. “Fondness, Raven?”

“Yes, I can be generous with fondness, can you?”

“It all depends on the circumstances. However, do sit and chat a while.” She motioned to the chair opposite her. “I confess I have a problem calling you by your Christian name. It’s disrepectful.” She drew her shawl closer, yet kept her eyes steadied on him.

A grand smile graced his face. “I believe you suggested it, Samantha. Since when have you worried about politeness with me?”

“It’s rather personal, but I do love the naked intimacy it implies. And, dear man, I’m wounded you still think me impolite.” A sensuous sigh escaped. “I’ve made every effort at courtesy with you to improve my behavior.” Her words accommodated, but he sensed a hint of humor in her this day, and much wanted to enjoy the moment.

“That is unkind. I remember well my comment about your deportment.”

He rather liked the games they played. To him, words never held significance until now when he conversed with her.

“You said once that I could be elemental to your future. The premise occupied my mind, and in fact, I looked up the word in the dictionary. Do you know what it says?”

“There are a few definitions, but perhaps the word essential would be a good explanation. Another could be an integral or ultimate constituent.” He paused, “Ahem. Somehow I don’t think of you as an ultimate constituent, Samantha.”

“You open emotional doors, Raven. Are you prepared for what can ensue?”

Those eyes of hers cast their spell. Damnation.

“Yes, I am. Are you? I’m always aware of what I do, Samantha. I lead an ordered and arranged life. The routine of it has not changed over the years. It used to be a comfort to me—until I met you.” He paused, “Yet, I’m also a gentleman. Such as right now, I would like to say things to you that might sound improper, but I will not do so in your brother’s home. You can’t know what a delight it is that you are a widow. It’s a pleasant deviation not to have to play a game of meaningless, banal words with maidens.”

Even though the countenance she displayed startled, he continued, “I will promise you there is a special surprise when you visit, and it’s something commissioned in your honor.”

“I like surprises, most of the time, but can you give me a hint?” Samantha coaxed.

“No, because then it would not be a surprise,” a grin escaped his face.

Samantha couldn’t help but stare at this mysterious man who captured her interest and sometimes her ire. His handsome face and the hint of arrogance charmed, and at times he disarmed her. His eyes reminded her of a pool in a cool mountain grotto, which beckoned the watcher to enter the dark wakeful water. Could she be in danger of losing her heart? To her, his eyes seemed to penetrate as if he could assess her soul—and her secret. She wanted to tell him her story, but inadequacy in the ways of men cautioned her silence. He might not believe her story. The only way to verify the fact would be to surrender her virginity. And then what?

Most times, he ingratiated himself to flatter and whisper in her ear. Each time his lips caressed her ear lobes to murmur something, he set her on fire. Energized blood coursed through her body igniting every part, awakening her dormant soul with the promise of all he might do. A serene smile colored her lips at the thought of him. This warmth permeated her, and she allowed her shawl to fall free.

Like a river at the floodgates when the water crested, she’d topple over the edge into a mindless abyss of elusive desire. The anticipation excited her dreams, but she also heard that the act was overrated. She damned her inexperience and Sir Percival for his abandonment.

Raven’s nearness, the pledge of something to come, became this side of fantasy. Or was it lunacy? Love should be more than a state of mind. She prepared to love with a heart emboldened by the infinite glory of the man who would make her whole—and a woman.

With a tilt of her head, gazing at nothing, she laughed. What was the definition of making her whole? A sentence read in a penny novel? The achievement of bliss? How? What she did know upended her. She needed to Experience. Something. Soon.

Samantha drank in his intoxicating scent and concluded her fantasy of a dream lover and Raven became one and the same. She wanted—no—desired to achieve fulfillment before she burst from want of him. The delayed rite of passage into new uncharted waters beckoned. Oh, my. Sweet heaven.