Spellbound by Jaimey Grant Page A

one
well-muscled shoulder. “He thinks it’s some great secret. I only
wonder that he actually married the girl instead of following in
our ancestors’ footsteps. Trickery, you know.”
    They shared a
conspiratorial glance. “And how did you find the lovely wife? Is
she well?”
    “You have never met
her?”
    He shook his head. “No. I
saw her once from a distance. A hauntingly lovely creature. Like an
angel come to earth. I can understand Grey’s desire to have
her.”
    “Yes,” murmured Raven with
a little jealous pang of her own. “She is well.
Increasing.”
    He looked up at that.
“Again? This will make…what? Three?”
    She nodded. It was apparent
her “husband” had made his brother’s family his business while not
actually interfering.
    “You’ve been providing for
them when Grey conveniently forgets they exist, haven’t
you?”
    He grunted at that. “I’m
not as stiff-rumped as I appear. I have no problem with the girl’s
birth or breeding. I wish Grey would realize we would welcome her
and act accordingly.”
    “She doesn’t know who he
is,” she commented a little offhandedly. “She introduced herself as
Mrs. Greyden Cramshaw.”
    A moment of silence ensued.
Tristan frowned, then asked, “How did you find out about
Lily?”
    Raven hesitated. It would
be wrong to implicate Adam in anything. The way the duke already
felt about the other man was bad enough. To discover that that man
had been spying on his family…
    Looking down at her hands,
she replied, “I just stumbled upon her, so to speak.”
    Tristan turned just enough
to look clearly at her. “How does one just stumble upon something
or someone who lives a good ten miles away?”
    She shrugged, offering a
radiant smile. “Servant’s gossip?”
    He snorted, letting it
drop. He suspected he really didn’t want to know anyway.
    It struck neither Raven nor
Tristan as odd that they were sitting, half-naked, discussing his
family as if nothing of any moment had just occurred between them.
If either one considered taking up where they had left off, they
kept the thought to themselves.
    Tristan doubted he could,
anyway. He would probably be tender for days. The woman definitely
knew how to protect herself.
    At that he smiled. He
needn’t worry too much about her then, he thought as he carefully
made his way across the hall and into his own chamber. He hadn’t
bothered re-dressing himself and ignored the curious stare of his
valet.

Chapter Eleven

    Peace reined between the
Duke and “Duchess” of Windhaven. Neither mentioned the night they’d
lost control and both strove to maintain a rigid decorum both in
and out of company.
    This, of course, only aided
in building the tension simmering just below the surface between
them. Tristan took to more physical pursuits, hoping to exhaust
himself by nightfall. Raven started unobtrusively avoiding him
whenever possible.
    It was into this odd
arrangement that Lady Windhaven returned with her grandson firmly
in tow. They were full of stories about an assassination plot
uncovered by Lord Sidmouth.
    Apparently, a certain group
of men gathered, determined to murder the entire Cabinet and the
new king, seize the Tower of London and the Bank of England, and
set up a Provisional Government. One of their own people had been
spying for Lord Sidmouth and reported the whole thing.
    Greyden related with
particular relish that five rebels were hanged and five more
transported. Tristan shook his head in disgust. He honestly
believed his brother was a little less than sane most of the
time.

    Raven’s afternoons were
spent in certain ladylike activities such as reading and needlework
or correspondence. She’d already had two gossipy letters from Bri
letting her in on all the recent Society on dits. She decided to
return to her room and answer the most recent one she’d
received.
    She was just closing her
door when it was suddenly pushed wide. She stared up into the hard
brown eyes of Lord