Page 24 of A Raven Realized (The Raven’s Den #5)

Chapter Fifteen

A fter making himself presentable, Simon sat in the chair across the room, watching her as she slept. He sealed the perfect picture into his memory.

It wasn’t long before her eyes slowly fluttered open. The smile that grew on her lips was dazzling. God, how he would miss that.

“When I leave for Scotland, who’s going to make your morning tea?”

He laughed. “Whoever made it for me before you arrived, I suppose.”

She sat up, the blanket pooling in her lap, a tantalizing sparkle in her eyes.

He stared at her breasts for a moment before closing his eyes. With a quick breath, he cleared his throat and got up from his chair.

“Why don’t I go down and prove I’m still capable of making tea, while you get dressed.” He had to leave before she lured him back into bed.

A half hour later, she came down to join him. “Were you able to find a valise up there? I believe there’s one in the bottom of your armoire.”

She shook her head. “I don’t have anything to pack, Simon. Even this gown isn’t mine, but at least it’s the one I arrived in. I was hoping I might take the books with me, though.”

“Those books are yours. Of course you may take them with you. But I’m not sending you off with nothing, Madelene. All the clothes up there are yours to take, as well.”

“But they belong to your sister.”

“I'll buy her new ones. I should have bought you some. I’m sorry.” How had he not thought to buy her some gowns of her own? He sighed. Just another example of why she’d be better off with Mrs. Appleridge. “You are taking them, and that’s an end to it.”

She smiled, but there was still so much sadness in her eyes. It didn’t matter. It was for the best.

They finished their tea in silence and then he accompanied her upstairs to find a valise and help her pack. He had to make sure she didn’t try to leave it all behind.

When it was filled and closed up tight, she looked up at him. “I was hoping we might be able to leave a little early and stop for some scones and jam before going to the station. I’d really like to say goodbye to Suzy before I go.”

“Of course. Whatever you wish.” Simon gestured for her to precede him down the stairs. He took a deep breath to steel himself. Reminding himself, once again, that sending her away was for the best, he started down behind her. It was for the best.

Suzy beamed at them when they entered the tavern. Her eyes moved down to the case he carried.

“Going away for work?”

He shook his head.

“I’m the one who’s leaving this time,” Madelene said. “I’ve come to enjoy one more of your delectable scones before I go.”

“Of course!” She led them to a table in the corner. When they were seated, she gave Simon’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Did she know his heart was breaking? Probably. She always seemed to know his mood.

Watching Madelene eat her scone was a kind of torture.

All he could think about was the night they’d made love in the kitchen.

He’d trained for years to mask his emotions, though, so he called on every morsel of skill he could.

She was hard to fool, but he could manage it.

She was trying to fool him too. Behind her mask of determination was sadness.

But she needed to go, and he wouldn’t allow his own pain to influence her.

He smiled at her, but when her tongue darted out to lick the jam from her lip, it was almost his undoing. A groan lodged in his throat, and he swallowed it down.

When they finally finished their tea and scones, Suzy walked them out. She kissed Madelene’s cheek and handed her some scones she’d wrapped up.

“In case you get hungry on your way. Take care of yourself, dear, and I hope to see you again soon.”

As she leaned in to press a kiss to Simon’s cheek she whispered in his ear. “She’s a good one, Simon.”

“I know she is,” he whispered, then pressed a kiss to her cheek. He patted her shoulder, hoping she understood his gratitude. She just wanted him to be happy. But she didn’t really know him. Didn’t know about the things he’d done or the disastrous end he’d likely meet.

As they approached the train platform, Mrs. Appleridge eyed the case he was carrying and a smile grew on her lips. “I see you’re all packed and ready to go.”

Madelene nodded, and although she smiled, the gesture made him sad. He didn’t like to see her silent answers. She would come around, though, and open up more once she was comfortable in her new home.

“Mr. Allister, it has been a pleasure meeting you. I hope you’ll come up for a visit soon. I would love to get to know you better.”

He inclined his head. It was unlikely he’d ever visit.

That was simply asking for heartache for them both.

He reached into his breast pocket and retrieved an envelope and handed it to her.

Inside was a letter and some money. Not a lot, but a small contribution.

“Take good care of her, and make sure she eats enough.”

“You know I will.” There was such kindness in her eyes. It was the right choice.

Lamsley came to collect Madelene’s valise and carried it to the train.

Madelene looked up at Simon, making every effort to convince him she was happy, and he did the same.

“Thank you, Simon. I will be forever grateful for everything you’ve done.

You rescued me and made possible a life I never could have dreamt of.

And I will always treasure the time we had together.

” She swallowed and he knew she was fighting back tears.

He despised himself for hurting her. Especially after swearing he never would.

He held her shoulders gently and leaned down to place a soft kiss against her cheek. “As will I.”

A warning whistle sounded. “That’s us,” Mrs. Appleridge said, holding out an arm for Madelene.

Simon nudged her shoulders gently to urge her to accept it. With another nod, she did, and the two women stepped onto the train, Lamsley right behind them.

Simon stayed strong as the train began to move, but his selfish heart screamed for him to run after her, louder and louder as she moved farther away.

Madelene wasn’t just a good one. She was the one. And now she was gone.

* * *

Madelene kept her spine straight and a smile on her lips until the train turned and Simon was lost from view.

When she was sure he couldn’t possibly see, her strength finally crumbled.

Grief crashed over her. She bent forward and tried her best to muffle her sobs with a handkerchief, but there was certainly no hiding it.

Thankfully, Selma and Lamsley were the only other people in their compartment.

Selma rubbed soothing circles over her back. “There, there, love. It may not feel like it right now, but you’ll be alright.”

Dizziness hummed inside her head, reminding her of her first day with Simon. Even when he hadn’t known anything about her, he’d rushed to her side when she was in distress, comforting her and encouraging her, telling her how strong she was.

She didn’t feel strong now.

Why couldn’t she just be grateful for everything he’d done for her?

He’d rescued her from hell, provided her with food, shelter, books, flowers…

not to mention so much kindness. He showed her all the incredible ways her body could experience pleasure.

He taught her how to be strong and confident.

And last but certainly not least, he found her a home.

She wiped her tears and turned to look at Selma. “I’m sorry. I hadn’t meant for that to happen.” Lamsley was either asleep, or feigning sleep as a kindness to spare her from more embarrassment.

Selma took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “No apologies. Stepping into a new life is overwhelming, and saying goodbye to the old one is even harder.”

“Thank you,” Madelene said slowly.

“I’m sure it was not an easy decision. I hadn’t actually expected you’d be coming with me. Don’t misunderstand me. I hoped you would, but I assumed you would say no. Your feelings for Mr. Allister are quite obvious.”

Madelene nodded. “I was never meant to be Simon’s…” She was going to say responsibility, but she’d already been that, and so much more.

Selma patted her hand. “When you’re ready, you can tell me anything and everything. You’ll get no judgment from me.”

It was a long journey, not only by train, but by carriage after that. She had managed to spend a good bit of it sleeping, at least, since she’d done very little of that last night. When the carriage finally rolled to a stop, her backside ached and every muscle in her body begged to be stretched.

She groaned as she stepped down. Reaching her arms into the air, she arched her back, easing some of the tension.

It was too dark to see much of the grounds, but the house was larger than Madelene had expected it to be.

Tan and grey stone, with numerous windows.

It was a sort of architectural hodgepodge of sharp angles and rounded, turret-like structures with steeply pitched roofs.

Not fully a castle, but it embodied the personality of one.

She should probably feel as if she’d stepped into some kind of fairytale, but she didn’t. Not yet, at least.

“Come,” Selma said, taking her arm. She led her up a wide staircase and down a long corridor.

A large, four-post bed was covered with a thick duvet and cream-colored coverlet embroidered with lavender flowers.

Matching lavender curtains were tied at the posts.

A writing desk was positioned below the window, providing what was undoubtedly a beautiful view to enjoy while penning correspondence or writing in a diary.

“Let’s get you settled, and then you can join us for a bite to eat and a nice cup of bedtime tea to help you relax.”

Madelene’s eyes welled with tears. Gratitude overwhelmed her and she threw her arms around the woman. “Thank you, Selma.”

She rubbed Madelene’s back. “I assure you, it is my pleasure to have you here.”

Lamsley placed her valise on top of the bed. “Would you like me to unpack it for you?”

“No. I can manage. Thank you.”

He gave her a nod and his eyes passed over Selma before he left the room.

“Go ahead and change into your nightclothes. I’ll go and do the same. We don’t stand on ceremony in this house, and we have a little bedtime routine we enjoy each night. I’ll come and collect you so you don’t get lost on your way down.”

After hanging her clothes in the armoire, she pulled out the two books that were in the bottom of the valise, and sighed as she slowly rubbed her hand over the spine of The Picture of Dorian Gray .

She’d been reading that on the night Simon had first introduced her to pleasure.

How was she going to do this without him?

She placed the book in the bottom of the armoire, not wanting to see it just now.

As she slipped the nightgown over her head, it smelled of him. Of his home, anyway. She closed her eyes, grief weighing her down. She missed him so much already. A tap on the door pulled her out of her thoughts.

“Are you ready?” Selma asked.

With a nod, Madelene followed her from the room.

It felt strange to be walking through the house in her nightclothes.

Her father would never have countenanced such behavior.

Selma, on the other hand, seemed perfectly comfortable with it.

And it was a nice change to see her in something other than black.

They settled into a cozy sitting room, the fire warming her skin.

A maid, also dressed in her nightclothes, bustled in and deposited a tray on the long table that stood in front of the sofa before seating herself in a chair at the end.

The tray held a pot of tea along with some scones and… sausages?

“I don’t believe you’ve met Sara yet. She does a little of everything around here.”

She was of a similar age to Madelene and had orange hair, fair skin dotted with freckles, along with a kind smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sara.”

“Welcome to our home.”

Lamsley came in behind her, carrying another tray. He, too, was in his pajamas. What was happening?

His tray held four cups and saucers. He filled them all with tea and handed one to each of the women before settling into a chair. This was the strangest thing Madelene had ever seen, the four of them all in their nightclothes, the servants sitting down with them for tea and a bedtime snack.

Selma laughed. “I told you we don’t stand on ceremony in this house.”

Warmth spread over Madelene’s cheeks. She hadn’t meant for everyone else to know her thoughts, but they must have shown on her face.

Selma leaned over the table and took a scone and two sausages and added a drizzle of honey to her tea. “Help yourself, Madelene.”

She did just as Selma had, and even copied her as she kicked off her slippers and tucked her feet up beneath her on the sofa. When in Rome…

After everyone had filled their plates and settled, Lamsley lifted his cup in a sort of toast. “To our health, to our happiness, to our home, and most importantly, to our family.” He nodded toward Madelene. The others raised their cups.

“Slàinte Mhath,” they both said, in unison.

“Slanjavar?” Madelene repeated.

Selma laughed. “It means cheers.”

“Cheers then.” She raised her cup with the others. Even the tea was something new, a whimsical medley of floral and spice that danced over her tongue.

Selma picked up a sausage with her fingers and took a bite. The others all followed her lead. Madelene had never before had bedtime sausages, but everything about the little gathering was wonderful. Perhaps, in time, she would find happiness here, after all.