Devil's Daughter (The Ravenels #5)(12)

“Mother,” Gabriel had asked hopefully, “could you be kind enough for three people?”

At that, their father had taken a sudden intense interest in his newspaper, lifting it in front of his face. A quiet wheeze emerged from behind it.

“I’m afraid not, dear,” Evie had said gently, her eyes sparkling. “But I’m sure you and your sister can find a great deal of kindness in your own hearts.”

Returning her thoughts to the present, Phoebe said, “Mother told us to be kind even to people who don’t deserve it. Which includes Mr. Ravenel, although I suspect he would have liked to deliver a dressing-down to me right there in the entrance hall.”

Gabriel’s tone was cinder dry. “I suspect his thoughts had less do with dressing-down than undressing.”

Phoebe’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Oh, come,” her brother chided, amused. “You had to notice the way his eyes were waving about on stalks like a lobster about to be boiled. Has it been so long that you can’t tell when a man is attracted to you?”

Gooseflesh rose on her arms. One of her hands crept up to her midriff, trying to calm a storm of butterflies.

As a matter of fact, it had been that long. She could read the signs of other people’s attractions, but not, apparently, when any of it applied to her. This was unknown territory. Her relationship with Henry had always been safely tempered by a sense of the familiar.

This was the first time Phoebe had ever felt so drawn to a stranger, and for it to be a man who was all brawn and boorishness was a cruel joke. There couldn’t be a greater contrast with Henry. But as Mr. Ravenel had stood there, radiating virility, his gaze shocking her with its directness, she had felt her knees wilt and her blood race. It was mortifying.

Even worse, she felt as if she were betraying Edward Larson, with whom she had an understanding of sorts. He hadn’t proposed yet, but they both knew he would someday, and she would probably accept.

“If Mr. Ravenel has any interest in me,” Phoebe said shortly, “it’s because he’s a fortune hunter. Most second sons are.”

Gabriel’s eyes twinkled with affectionate mockery. “Thank God you know what labels to affix to people. It would be so inconvenient to have to judge them individually.”

“As always, ‘annoying lunkhead’ is perfect for you.”

“I think you secretly liked the way Ravenel talked to you,” Gabriel said. “People are always telling us what they think we want to hear. Raw honesty is a refreshing change, isn’t it?”

“Refreshing for you, perhaps,” Phoebe said with a reluctant smile. “Well, you’ll certainly get that from Pandora. She’s incapable of being awed by anyone.”

“It’s one of the reasons I love her,” her brother admitted. “I also love her wit, her zest for life, and the fact that she needs me to keep her from walking in circles.”

“I’m glad you found each other,” Phoebe said sincerely. “Pandora’s a dear girl, and you both deserve to be happy.”

“So do you.”

“I don’t expect ever to find the kind of happiness I had with Henry.”

“Why not?”

“A love like that can only happen once in a lifetime.”

Gabriel pondered that. “I don’t understand everything about love,” he said almost humbly. “But I don’t think it works like that.”

Phoebe shrugged and tried to sound brisk. “There’s no point in worrying over my future—it will happen as it wants to. All I can do is try to carry on in a way that will honor my husband’s memory. What I know for certain is that as much as Henry hated Mr. Ravenel, he wouldn’t have wanted me to be spiteful or vindictive.”

Her brother’s warm gaze searched every nuance of her expression. “Don’t be afraid,” he surprised her by saying.

“Of Mr. Ravenel? Never.”

“I meant don’t be afraid of liking him.”

That startled a laugh from Phoebe. “There’s no danger of that. But even if there were, I would never betray Henry by making friends with his enemy.”

“Don’t betray yourself, either.”

“In what way—how do you think I—Gabriel, wait!” But he had gone to the door and opened it.

“Time to go back, Redbird. You’ll sort it all out eventually.”





Chapter 5




To Phoebe’s relief, Mr. Ravenel was nowhere in sight when they returned to the entrance hall. Guests milled about and chatted as old friends were reacquainted and new ones were introduced. A battalion of footmen and maids carried trunks, traveling cases, hatboxes and all manner of luggage toward the back stairs.

“Phoebe,” came a light, sweet voice, and she turned to find Devon’s wife at her side. Kathleen, Lady Trenear, was a petite woman with red hair, tip-tilted eyes and high cheekbones. Phoebe had come to like her very much during the week the Ravenels had stayed at Heron’s Point. Kathleen was cheerful and engaging, albeit a bit horse mad, since both her parents had been in the business of breeding and training Arabians. Phoebe liked horses, but she didn’t know nearly enough about them to carry on a detailed conversation. Fortunately, Kathleen was the mother of an infant son who was close to Stephen’s age, and that had provided ample ground for conversation.