Devil's Daughter (The Ravenels #5)

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.

“I’m so delighted to have you here,” Kathleen said, taking Phoebe’s hands in her small ones. “How was the journey?”

“Splendid,” Phoebe said. “Justin found the train ride very exciting, and the baby seemed to enjoy the swaying.”

“If you like, I’ll show your nanny and the children up to the nursery. Perhaps you’ll want to have a look?”

“Yes, but must you leave all your guests? We could have a housemaid show us the way.”

“They can do without me for a few minutes. I’ll explain the layout of the house as we go. It’s a labyrinth. Everyone gets lost the first day or two. We have to send out search expeditions every few hours to collect the stragglers.”

In most grand households, children, nursemaids and nannies were usually relegated to the servants’ stairs in the back, but Kathleen insisted they use the central staircase during their stay. “The nursery is much easier to reach this way,” she said as they ascended.

Phoebe carried Stephen, while Justin held Nanny’s hand and pulled her along like a small, determined tugboat towing a freighter. At each landing, Phoebe caught glimpses of rooms through wide-open doorways, some with fireplaces large enough to stand in.

Lisa Kleypas's books