Victoria returns to England to bury her adoptive brother and
take care of her now orphaned godson, Cyngen. She’d always been curious about
the mysterious Darien, Cyngen’s other godparent, but her intense reaction to
his presence complicates matters as the three of them begin a new life
together. His behavior confuses her on a daily basis, but she has no desire to
fight the pull she feels.
Darien can’t stop thinking about Victoria, not only because
she’s grown into a fascinating woman but also because he has a duty to protect
her and their godson. He cannot warn her of the danger she is in, as he’d have
to reveal the secret of his true nature—and Cyngen’s. He’s content only to be
near her every day, until his hand is forced and the truth comes out. Even if he
can save her, he still might lose her forever if she cannot accept him for what
he truly is…
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Excerpt:
Victoria Shelley
sat beside her godson Cyngen as the men lowered his parents into the ground.
She could feel everyone staring at them. The funeral of Jerome and Elizabeth
Ravenwood was well attended because so many people wanted to get a look at
Cyngen, the reclusive young heir to an impressive estate and a massive
fortune. The crowd was also
curious about her, the seldom seen adopted sister of Jerome who had gone to
America to work as a tutor for friends of the Ravenwood family in New York. She
grew wearier with each passing day of the whispering and curious looks.
She felt herself
on the verge of tears as Jerome’s coffin sank into the ground. She had loved
him as a true brother because he had opened his heart to her as if blood
actually bound them together. A hand settled on her skin where her shoulder and
neck met. She felt the comforting warmth of Darien as he stood behind her. Out
of the corner of her eye, she could see his hand resting in the same place on
Cyngen’s neck. She reached over and grasped the ten-year-old boy’s hand. She
watched him tilt his head so that his cheek touched Darien’s hand for a moment.
The sad yet loving gesture momentarily made it harder for her to hold her tears
back. Then Cyngen straightened, taking a deep breath as he placed his other
hand over hers. Soon he drew both of his hands away to clench them tightly in
his lap. She knew he wanted to go home. He didn’t like crowds, and he hated the
way people stared at him.
Cyngen was tall
for his age but slight of build, his skin pale and his hair jet-black. He kept
his hair longer than was fashionable for a boy of his rank and age and always
wore it loose so it fell down his back and over his forehead because of his
eyes and his birthmark. Cyngen possessed very strange, mismatched eyes. One had
a bright green iris, so bright it seemed to glow and often startled people, and
the other was completely blood red, except for the pupil. His vision was
perfect, and no doctor could offer an explanation for this oddity. When people
stared at him, he stared right back with a quite menacing gaze until they
stopped. He was a sweet boy, but he was so defensive around strangers no one
but those closest to him knew how kind he in truth was. The birthmark on the
back of his neck, at least, was easier to hide. Five lines, which resembled
scratches, ran diagonally from his hairline down to the nape of his neck. The
marks had been bright red when he was born and had faded to a deep crimson by
the time he was one month old.
Darien’s thumb ran
over her skin briefly before he drew his hand away. She glanced back at him,
but he was looking straight ahead. He appeared calm and collected, as if he
hadn’t just touched her very intimately. Darien fascinated her, but she did not
want him or anyone else to know it. He was Cyngen’s godfather, a childhood
friend of Elizabeth’s. He had arrived on the estate within an hour of Jerome’s
and Elizabeth’s mangled bodies being found at the edge of the woods by the
servants. Victoria had not seen him for more than a few passing moments since
the day they had stood side by side in the church when Cyngen was christened.
However, Cyngen had told her a great deal about him in his letters. Though his
work—whatever it was, she did not know—kept him away for months on end and made
his schedule so unpredictable he could almost never attend family functions,
he’d visited Cyngen half a dozen times a year for the past decade, and the
young boy adored him. Since her arrival, she had observed Darien and Cyngen
with a great deal of curiosity. Darien behaved more like a manservant than a
godfather, constantly shadowing the boy as though he were afraid something
might happen to him or he might need something. He helped him dress and brought
him his meals when he didn’t feel like coming down to eat in the dining room,
and he behaved like a guard dog, if a polite one, toward almost everyone who
tried to get near Cyngen.
When Darien turned
his eyes to hers and leaned down, she realized she had been sitting there
staring up at him. She wondered how many other people had noticed, but it was
too late to do anything about it now.
“Do you require
anything, Miss Shelley?” he asked with concern. His sensual voice sent a shiver
all the way down her body, especially as his tone made her feel as if we would
move heaven and earth to grant her request.
Her face flamed as
she imagined what the crowd around them might be whispering. She and Cyngen
were seated alone near the graves in full view of everyone, and she dared not
turn her head to see how many people were looking at them.
She dabbed at her
eyes with her handkerchief. “I am fine, thank you, Darien.”
A moment later,
the three of them were beckoned forward by one of the deacons to say a final
farewell. Cyngen threw of mix of red, white, and pink roses from the estate’s
hothouse onto his mother’s coffin. Victoria sprinkled a bit of dirt from the
estate onto Jerome’s coffin, a family tradition he had insisted upon in his
will. Darien held nothing in his hands. He stood silently contemplating the
graves before bowing and then walking over to stand beside Cyngen. That action
puzzled her, but somehow it comforted her. Just like everything else about him.
“We can leave
now,” he said as he touched Cyngen’s shoulder, seemingly to stop him from
taking his seat again. “Two weeks of condolences and idle chatter have been
more than enough, and the police investigation has been taxing for everyone.
The rector will offer final words and explain that we wish to be left alone for
the next month.” He turned Cyngen toward the carriages and offered his arm to
Victoria.
She did not speak
until they were almost to the road. “Are you sure it’s acceptable, Darien?” The
etiquette expected of members of the Ravenwood family had been the hardest
thing to grow accustomed to when she went to live with them. Even after nearly
twenty years, she still worried she would do something wrong. It had been one
reason she had decided to go to America in the first place.
He turned his
silver eyes toward her and nodded simply. The sun gleamed off his dark hair.
“Yes. Cyngen wants to be left alone.”
That wasn’t really
a proper answer to her question, but she turned to look ahead again. The
footman opened the carriage door for Cyngen, who climbed inside quickly. Darien
handed her in, then boarded and sat across from her beside Cyngen.
“Would you like to
explore the attic with us, Victoria?” Cyngen asked when the carriage began to
move.
“That sounds like
a welcome distraction,” she said. “Are you going to do it this afternoon?”
“Yes. Darien said
we could after lunch. I’ve heard noises, and we’re going to investigate.”
“Noises?” She had
heard many odd noises at night, but she had convinced herself it was either the
servants or the house settling.
Darien cleared his
throat and pushed a strand of his dark hair off his forehead. “I suspect a few
birds have gotten in and become trapped. We’re going to see what we can find.
There are lots of old trunks and boxes of books and clothes. Even if we don’t
find the source of the noises, it should be enjoyable.” He put his arm around
Cyngen, who turned shimmering eyes to the window.
She’d willingly
attempt to climb a mountain this afternoon if it would keep Cyngen from being
sad and lonely. “I would love to. I haven’t been up there since I just a little
older than you are.”
Cyngen blinked
several times, the tears seeming to abate. “You were ten when you came to the
estate, weren’t you?”
“Yes, I was.
That’s when my parents died. Your grandfather was my father’s employer. Your
father had just turned fifteen, and he was so upset when he found out I had no
family that he begged his parents to let me live with them. It was very kind of
them to take me in. I wish you could have known your grandparents.”
Cyngen took a deep
breath and turned away from the window to look at her. “The will said only one
of you is required to remain with me, but I want you to stay with us, Victoria.
I’m sure America is exciting, but we can travel anywhere you like. You can have
anything you want if you stay with us.” His voice cracked, his tone sounding desperate
and pleading.
She scolded
herself for not discussing her plans with him and Darien earlier. She’d written
to the lawyer immediately, before even making her travel plans, and she’d
assumed he would have made her plans known. She leaned forward and took both of
Cyngen’s small hands in hers. “Oh, Cyngen, of course I will stay. I’m sorry I
didn’t make that clear. I thought you knew I planned to remain here.”
Cyngen looked
ready to cry again, though perhaps this time from relief, and Darien stepped
in.
“We didn’t want to
presume, Miss Shelley,” he said. “You have a job and a life in New York.”
“I told everyone I
would not be returning less than an hour after I received the telegram. The
children were indifferent, and their parents just nodded and asked how soon I
would be leaving. I was little more than a servant to them. They only paid me
so well because your father insisted. The youngest is nine now, so I might have
been returning here anyway. I missed everyone, even though my three years in
America were a wonderful experience. It was interesting to teach in another
country. I learned so much. But I am glad to be back here with you.”
“You can be my
tutor now, can’t you? I often heard mother and father’s friends ask when you
were coming back. Many of them wanted to engage you, but I want you to tutor
me. And Darien can teach me to play the violin. I want to learn.”
She inclined her
head to look at him. “I didn’t know that you played, Darien.”
He nodded once. “I
do. Cyngen enjoys my playing, at least.”
“Yes, Cyngen, I
can be your tutor for the next few years. I mostly teach girls and younger
children though, so in a few years we’ll need to engage someone new to prepare
you for university.” She turned to Darien. “Is there a tutor now? I haven’t met
one at the house.”
“Jerome had been
his tutor for the past year. The last tutor was … a very unsuitable example for
Cyngen.”
“He was a thief,”
Cyngen said, “and he upset Gwendolyn.”
Victoria’s eyes
flicked to Darien’s briefly, and he nodded slightly. Gwendolyn was one of the
kitchen maids, and Victoria had noticed that she had a child but no husband. “I
see. Well, I’m not as clever as your father was, but very few people are.” She
released his hands and sat back. “We shall have lots of fun together.”
Cyngen nodded, his
mouth almost curling into a smile as he looked between the two of them. “We can
still be a family.”
“Yes, Cyngen,”
Darien said, looking into Victoria’s eyes. “A very loving family.”
She nodded her
agreement toward Cyngen, unable to stop the blush Darien’s penetrating gaze had
caused. She felt as if he could see right into her heart, and part of her
wondered if, given the look in his eyes, perhaps he actually could.
