Tempest(52)

He skimmed over the next passage about his grandmother’s acquisition of the map and its supposed ties to Stede Bonnet. This was the part he had related to Cathy the day she’d discovered the secret panel.





My dear Adam, you are a Raveneau through and through, and I understand that better than anyone. You should have been born in the eighteenth century, when you could have been a privateer like your great-grandfather Andre Raveneau, or fought duels like my father, Nicholai Beauvisage.

You remind me so much of Andre. He was the ultimate rakehell— irresistible, and impervious to true love until he met Devon. Even your great-grandmother needed a lot of patience and faith to wait for him to open his heart, but of course, eventually he did.

I know, too, that when your mother betrayed her family and then your father died, you locked your heart away. Perhaps you felt that love and grief were too closely entwined? If you are reading this letter, the time has come to begin to trust again. True love is not a sign of weakness, but of strength. The men from whom you descend learned that lesson, and now it is your turn.

Here are the clues to a treasure that will secure your future, and which you may share with the woman you love. But remember, darling Adam, that love is the greatest treasure of all.

Forever, I remain, your Gran Adrienne.





His heart pounded as he read the last words. It truly was as if Gran were sitting across from him, gazing at him with her sparkling, perceptive green eyes. It hurt to think about his parents, and it had been a shock that Gran had mentioned them and the tragedy in his family. But then, she had never been one to mince words.

Longing to fill his glass with brandy and drink it down, Adam instead sat back in his chair and let himself absorb her message. It still felt to him that love and pain went hand-in-hand, but was he going to be a coward? That’s what she was saying, it seemed: that men who closed their hearts to love might appear to be dashing rogues on the outside, but underneath they were merely afraid, running away from life’s finest gift.

Folding the letter, Adam thought back to the days after he and Cathy had come to Tempest Hall, when he’d done his best to avoid his bride and yet she had waited for him, braver than he as she attempted to bridge the gulf between them.

Little Paul made a soft sound in his sleep and clutched Ooh-ah closer. Alice lifted her head, watching the little boy, until she was satisfied that he was all right.

His grandfather’s journals were still there waiting for him, but when Raveneau opened the first one, he made a new discovery: its center had been hollowed out to serve as a container for a rather large case covered in threadbare tapestry. After fetching a second oil lamp from his bedside chest, he lit it and opened the case. Inside was an exquisite diamond-and-sapphire necklace and a smaller, worn velvet case containing what appeared to be a very old fan.

There was another message from his grandmother, inside a tiny envelope with his name inscribed on it in her neat script. This time she was brief, explaining that the necklace had been a gift from Andre to Devon on their wedding day, and it had been passed down to her. The fan, Adrienne wrote, had been the cause of her own first meeting with Nathan Raveneau. It was reputed to belong to Queen Marie Antoinette, and I had to have it, even if it meant quarreling with your grandfather on Oxford Street!

As Adam unfurled the delicate, hand-painted fan, it seemed that he could hear her laughter and see her as she had been eighty-five years earlier on that day in London, fresh and lovely and impudent.

Next he opened his grandfather’s log books. The sight of the initials, NR, embossed in gold on the front of each volume, brought back sharp childhood memories. Nathan Raveneau had been a handsome, vigorous man, even in old age, and Adam had loved to sit on his lap as he paged through the logs, recounting sea adventures to his grandson.

Now, reading them for himself in the dim light, Adam felt a new sense of kinship with his ancestor. To his surprise, he discovered that Nathan had also written long passages in 1818 about the masquerade that had begun his relationship with Adrienne, and the way his true identity had been exposed the night he abducted her from Harms Castle and took her to his ship.

Finally, Adam heard the clock on the landing strike midnight. It was tempting to read on through the night, but soon enough Paul and Alice would both be awake and insisting that he greet the morning with them. With a sigh, he rose and put away the newfound treasures.

When he had stripped off his clothes and stretched out on the testered bed, Adam was grateful for the soft caress of the night breeze. Next to him, Alice snorted contentedly in her sleep while the sounds of Paul’s quicker breaths came from his spindled crib.

Closing his own eyes, he thought again of the hours he had just spent with his grandparents. Their words seemed to provide the missing pieces for his future and, as he surrendered to sleep, he felt a sense of peace for the first time since he had watched Cathy leave Tempest Hall.





Chapter 29




“What more could you ask for?”

Cathy looked up from the ledgers and gave Sutton O’Leary a radiant smile. “We truly are in paradise, aren’t we?”

They were sitting at a table on the verandah, the remains of their breakfast on plates stacked to one side. Account books were open before them, but the turquoise ocean, glittering like a carpet of diamonds in the morning sun, was a powerful distraction.

“If it weren’t for those shadows under your eyes, I might think that you were happy!”

She wrinkled her nose. “I’m doing my best to be happy, Sutton. I have a lot to be grateful for, don’t I?”

Just then a tall figure appeared in the doorway and boomed, “Aha! I have found the lovely Lady Raveneau!” Basil Lightfoot approached the table, seemingly oblivious to the other guests who looked up from their breakfasts. “May I join you, my lady?”

Sutton gathered his books and stood. “I was just leaving. You are welcome to my chair, Mr. Lightfoot.” His lips twitched as he perceived Cathy’s accusatory sidelong glance. “May I order you breakfast?”

“Just tea, thank you.” Basil made a show of taking Cathy’s hand and kissing it before he sat down. “May I say that you grow lovelier in your unattached state?”

“Why do you say that?”

“I have seen Lord Raveneau numerous times in Bridgetown. Rumor has it that he is living there now, on Roebuck Street. He is frequently carrying Gemma Hart’s baby son; it’s quite a touching sight.” Pausing, he watched her face. “‘Twould seem that your situation has altered?”

“Sir, you overstep your bounds.”

“Ah, my lady, I beg your pardon. I felt the need to be blunt because of time constraints. You see, I have traveled out of my way this morning to invite you to come out with me for a carriage ride.”

She blinked. “Out? With you?” As comprehension dawned, Cathy felt her cheeks getting hot. “Mr. Lightfoot, you have mistaken—” Just then, Theo began to wave wildly at her from the entrance to the dining room. Secretly relieved by the interruption, Cathy said, “Apparently, I am being called away by an urgent matter. If you will excuse me, sir...”

He was on his feet in an instant to pull out her chair for her, but before she could rise, there was another commotion behind them. Cathy turned, with Basil Lightfoot close behind her, and beheld Adam striding out onto the verandah with an anxious-looking Theo trotting in his wake. Adam was carrying Paul, who clung to his father with one hand and a stuffed monkey with the other.

Cathy sighed involuntarily. In spite of the long hours she had lain awake at night, conjuring up images of his eyes, his mouth, the shape of his fingers, her memory did not do Raveneau justice. He seemed taller, his shoulders wider, his face more sinfully handsome than even she, who loved him to the point of pain, had remembered. And his marbled blue-gray eyes seemed to blaze straight to the core of her heart.

“Adam!”

“None other.” Clad in a tan linen suit and a brown striped tie, he shifted Paul in his arms as if he’d been carrying the toddler since birth. “Lightfoot, I’m sorry you have to leave now.”

“But, I don’t! Nothing of the sort!” Basil spluttered, and then made the mistake of stepping in front of Cathy as if to shield her from her husband.

Raveneau inclined his head ever so slightly, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “I insist. Goodbye.”

“All right, I’ll go, but you really ought to make up your mind, my lord. D’you want a wife, or not? Because—”

“Stop talking,” he said as his entire body tensed. “Immediately.”

Before Basil could do something even more foolish, Theo darted forward, gestured for the taller man to precede him into the hotel, and hurried him away.

“What the devil was that buffoon doing here?” Adam demanded. “Were you encouraging him?”

“If I was, it is none of your affair,” she whispered heatedly. “You have no right to storm in here and order people around.”

The hotel guests were looking up from their breakfasts, and Paul appeared to be on the verge of tears. Lowering his voice, Adam said,”Kindly join me in the lobby where we may converse with more privacy.”

Feeling suddenly and intensely alive, Cathy led the way. Her mind listed all the reasons she should keep him and his illicit child at arm’s length, but her heart was singing. Upon entering the lobby, she was surprised to see Byron Matthews and June sitting on one of Theo’s prized settees.