Page 4 of A Raven Realized (The Raven’s Den #5)

She nodded. Despite his words of assurance, she knew she should be afraid.

She was alone with two strange men, one of whom had already thrown her over his shoulder.

There was definitely a nugget of fear inside her somewhere, but she didn’t seem capable of actually feeling it.

She didn’t seem to be capable of feeling anything, other than relief that she was out of that tub.

He handed her the towel and the dry gown. “Promise me you won’t try to run?”

She nodded.

“Good. When you’ve finished, come back to the horses. Call for me if you need any help.”

She should be afraid of him. He had threatened to kill those men, and there was no doubt in her mind, he would have followed through.

Who were these men? Why had they rescued her? Was that, in fact, what they were even doing? Where were they taking her? Why had they been at Auburn Ridge in the first place? They hadn’t come for her, but as far as she knew, they hadn’t done anything else.

Was it possible this was all some kind of strange dream?

Something her mind had conjured after she’d wished for a life of adventure?

She pinched her arm. It definitely wasn’t a dream.

She slipped the dry gown over her head. The thin cotton wouldn’t do anything to chase away the chill, but at least it was dry. That had to help.

With a deep breath to muster her courage, she slowly made her way back to the horses. Simon removed his coat and held it up for her to slip her arms into its sleeves. His warmth lingered in the heavy fabric along with his spicy aroma. It was incredibly comforting.

“Are you alright?” Simon asked.

She nodded.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” His smile was tender and kind and the moonlight sparkled in his eyes.

“A virtuous woman should be neither seen nor heard unless it is required of her.”

His brow dipped dangerously and she took a quick step back and lowered her gaze, suddenly afraid she’d made an error. His gentle hand came to rest on her shoulder.

“You needn’t be afraid of me, Madelene. I will never hurt you, and you are free to speak your mind with me.”

She nodded, unsure of what to say to that.

He laughed softly and patted her shoulder. “Let’s get you back onto the horse. We need to keep moving.”

She felt awkward in the saddle, not only because she had never ridden astride, but also because both men continued to walk. Nothing in all the many books she’d read had prepared her for this.

Fingers of light were just beginning to stretch above the horizon when they made their way down the drive toward a grand house. Was this his home? Simon helped her down from the horse, but didn’t put her on the ground. Instead, he cradled her in his arms.

“I won’t try to run,” she said quietly.

“I’m glad to hear it, but I’m carrying you because the gravel will hurt your bare feet.”

Why would a stranger concern himself with the comfort of her feet?

Once they were on the doorstep, he carefully put her down and Brennan rang the bell. Not his house, then.

A short time later the door was opened by a butler, an older man, perfectly pressed and not a single grey hair out of place. His lips turned up in recognition. “Mr. Brennan.”

“I’m not sure how you remember me considering the size of our party the last time, but it’s good to see you again, Mr. Beecham. Apologies for the unexpected visit, and at such an early hour. Lord Ashdown said to stop here if we find ourselves in need of assistance.”

Lord Ashdown? Is that who the house belonged to?

The butler smiled and pulled the door open wide. “Please, come in.”

“Simon Allister.” Simon shook the man’s hand after the door closed behind them. “We really don’t need to be a nuisance. We just need another horse, or perhaps a carriage, if you have one you can spare for a day.”

The butler’s eyes swept over their group. She lowered her gaze to the floor and wrapped her arms around herself. What a sight she must present. Bare feet and dressed in naught but a nightgown and a man’s overlarge coat.

“Forgive me for saying so, sir, but you need more than just a carriage.”

“I don’t want to be any more of an inconvenience than is necessary, Mr. Beecham.”

“It wouldn’t be an inconvenience, Mr. Allister. We have a houseful of staff with very little to do most of the time. At least allow us to provide you with some food and warmth, and perhaps a change of clothes for the lady.”

Madelene’s cheeks burned.

Simon rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Her name is Madelene.”

“Welcome, Miss Madelene.”

She looked up nervously, and the butler smiled kindly. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

A woman who must be the housekeeper bustled into the foyer, tall and thin, back straight, chatelaine rattling against her leg.

“Mrs. Lamb, this is Mr. Allister and Mr. Brennan. I will see to them. Will you please show Miss Madelene up to a room and see that she has a change of clothes and anything else she may require?”

“I’d be happy to. Right this way, Miss Madelene.”

She looked up at Simon, unsure what to do. He nodded. “Go ahead, you’ll be safe here.”

“Are you leaving me here?”

“No. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for now.” His smile was teasing.

She followed Mrs. Lamb to a large bedchamber filled with plush furniture. The carpet was soft beneath her bare feet, but when she looked down, they were covered in dirt, even on the top.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Lamb. I fear I may have tracked dirt onto the rug.”

“That’s what happens to rugs,” she said with a shrug. “They are for walking on, afterall.”

Why was everyone being so kind? She didn’t understand.

“Would you like me to have a bath readied?”

Madelene shook her head quickly. “No, thank you.” She wasn’t ready to face that yet, even if it wasn’t ice cold.

A young maid bustled into the room.

“Molly, please fetch a basin of warm water along with a cloth and soap for Miss Madelene.”

A wave of dizziness swept through her. Now that Madelene was safe and warm, the emotions she’d been holding down erupted like champagne out of a bottle. Fear ripped through her, and panic descended with such force, her knees nearly buckled. What was going to happen to her?

“Are you alright, dear?” Mrs. Lamb guided her to the nearby chair. “Why don’t you sit down?”

Madelene dropped into the chair, gasping, and the housekeeper crouched before her.

All she could do was shake her head, wanting this to end.

She wanted to go home, even if her father did hate her.

At least there, she knew what to expect.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. She continued to speak the words inside her mind.

Her lips began to tingle and soon, everything outside of her raging terror ceased to exist.

* * *

“Mr. Allister.” A maid stood in the doorway, her eyes wide with worry. “It’s Miss Madelene.”

Simon took the stairs two at a time, and as soon as he entered the corridor at the top he could hear her distress. Following his ears, he rushed to her side. It was a sight he’d seen too many times. She sat in a chair, gasping desperately for breath, her eyes wide but unseeing.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Lamb.” She scurried to get out of his way.

He placed his hand around the back of Madelene’s neck. “Bend forward and put your head between your knees.”

Not surprisingly, she didn’t follow his instructions. They never did. She was too lost in her panic to hear him. As gently as he could, he pushed forward, forcing her to fold down on herself, trying to stop her from fainting.

He spoke softly into her ear. “Madelene, it’s Simon. I’m here with you. You’re safe. I promise no one is going to hurt you.” He’d done this so many times with women he’d removed from abusive homes, but for some reason he hadn’t been prepared for it this time.

She hadn’t even managed to remove his coat before being overcome.

He reached up into the sleeve, took hold of her hand, and squeezed.

“Slow your breathing, Madelene. I know you can do it. Just slow it down. Everything is going to be alright.” He spoke slowly, hoping she might be able to feed off of his own energy.

Eventually, she stopped fighting against him and her body gradually relaxed. He loosened his grip on her neck and carefully massaged the taut muscles. “You’re doing so well, Madelene.”

Gradually, her rapid breathing eased. “I’m sorry, Simon,” she whispered.

“You’ve nothing to apologize for.” Slowly, he helped her to sit up. When he was sure she was steady, he ushered the maid and housekeeper from the room and closed the door. She didn’t need onlookers right now.

A basin of water sat on the table along with a washcloth, soap, and a towel. Undoubtedly, for her dirty feet. He carried them over and knelt before her.

Her eyes widened and he could see panic rising again. “Relax, Madelene. I’m not going to do anything to hurt you. I promise.”

“I know you won’t hurt me, but what are you going to do with that?” She gestured toward the basin of water as if it were an asp that might strike if it got too close.

Simon smiled. “I’m going to wash the dirt off your feet.”

She shook her head frantically. “You can’t do that, Simon.”

“Hush now. I’m perfectly capable of it, I assure you.”

She continued to shake her head. “But I’m not worthy of it.”

Simon stopped and sat back on his heels. Why were so many women hurt by the men who were supposed to care for them? “I don’t know who told you that, Madelene, but they were wrong.”

Her brow furrowed as she tried to decide if she could believe him or not. This hadn’t just come from what she’d endured at Auburn Ridge. This was from a lifetime of mistreatment. Someone, probably her father, had convinced her that she was unworthy of kindness. Unworthy of love.

“Will you allow me the honor of helping you, Madelene?”

She chewed on her lip as she considered what he was asking, but after a few moments, she nodded.

Warmth filled his chest. She was trusting him with something that was obviously incredibly difficult for her.

Suddenly, the tables turned, and he was the one who felt unworthy.

He would never hurt her, of course, but if she knew who he really was, she wouldn’t trust him.

“Lift your feet.” He slid the towel under and rested the basin of water in the middle.

Carefully, he helped her to place her feet inside.

The water was no longer warm, but she didn’t complain.

She was stoic, staring down at him as he gently washed the dirt away.

But fear, and perhaps lingering cold, still made her tremble.

He inspected the bottom of each foot to make sure there were no injuries, then moved the basin aside and wrapped the towel around her feet.

“Why are you doing this?”

“To dry them off,” he said as he rubbed her feet with the towel.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.” He looked up into her eyes. “I’m doing this because you deserve kindness.”

She shook her head. “I don’t.”

“And why is that?”

She paused for a moment and swallowed nervously. “There’s evil in me.”

“What makes you think that?”

She lowered her gaze to her lap as she fidgeted with the coat sleeves that shrouded her hands. “I killed my mother,” she said softly.

Well that wasn’t what he’d been expecting. Was it possible she actually was violent and had been locked up for a reason? It seemed unlikely with such a soft demeanor. Besides, as someone who killed people for a living, he could hardly pass judgment. “Why did you do that?”

His question must have caught her off guard, because she looked at him as if he was daft. “She died giving birth to me.”

He folded up the sleeves of his coat so he could find her hands. “You didn’t kill your mother, Madelene. Sadly, women sometimes die in childbirth. That doesn’t mean it was the baby who killed them.”

“But…” Her eyes moved between their coupled hands and his gaze as she tried to understand what he had said.

She’d obviously been told her whole life that she was evil and had killed her own mother.

There was plenty of evil in the world, but certainly not in her.

It was going to be hard for her to ever believe that, and he wasn’t going to convince her of it in this moment.

But he’d planted a seed and could only hope it would eventually take root and grow.

“Will you be alright now if I leave you with a maid to dress?”

She nodded. “I’m sorry, Simon.”

“Hush now. No more apologies.” He squeezed her hands once more, then got up and walked to the door. “I’ll be just downstairs if you need me.”

As much as he wanted to stay and comfort her, they couldn’t linger here.

A trip to Auburn Ridge had not been on his schedule and he had work to get back to.

Not to mention, they were already taking advantage of the beneficence of someone Simon had never met and who had not personally offered the use of his home and resources.

“Is she alright?” Brennan asked when Simon returned to the drawing room.

He dropped into the chair across from him. “As much as she can be.” He let out a long sigh and downed the remainder of his cold tea. “How does Ash do it?”

Brennan shrugged. “I wonder that myself, occasionally. He does have his partners, though.”

“How long has he been taking in women, and how many does he have in that place?”

“There are usually about eighteen or twenty of them. I don’t know if it’s always been that way. I wasn’t there for the first three years, but that’s been the case for the nine years I’ve been working for him.”

Simon blew out a breath. How did he manage it?

Simon had only been helping women for a year, and it was just one at a time.

He was exhausted by their suffering, and he didn't even take them on.

He simply dispensed with their abusers in one fashion or another, and then settled the women safely back with their families.

What in God’s name was he going to do with Madelene? He couldn’t very well take her back to her father, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to add her to Ash’s burden when he’d already taken on Samantha.

“Is it too early for whisky?”

Brennan laughed. “And that’s why Michael is the one I really don’t understand. Somehow he does it all without a drop of alcohol.”

“Great, so they’re all bloody saints.”

“Don’t let Ash hear you say he’s a saint. He doesn’t like being characterized as a savior. In his mind, these women just work for him.”

Simon laughed cynically. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”