“You did it again,” she said after a moment. “We were in the middle of discussing ways to discover more about your family and then you tried to distract me with seduction.”
He pressed his lips to the top of her head. “Not so. It was you who did the distracting and the seducing by dressing yourself as a confection. I am an innocent pawn in your scheme, madam. But I am magnanimous enough to forgive you.”
“How kind,” she said with a laugh and eased out of his embrace to stand apart. “Then what do you say to meeting my uncle?”
She was shamelessly tenacious. Briefly, Raven wondered what it would be like to have all of her driving focus centered on him and on pleasure instead.
Dangerous was the answer and he decided to leave that thought alone.
“I say that it is fortunate for you that I know the turnkey.”
“You do?” She smiled at him, her eyes so bright and clear, they were almost violet in their brilliance. “Does this mean you’re willing to pursue your birthright, even without my incessant prodding?”
He knew what she wanted to hear—that he knew he was Merrick Northcott, the infant that had somehow survived the fire. But he couldn’t allow himself to believe it. He knew the bitter disappointments that awaited him too well.
Raven denied it with a shake of his head. “I’m doing this because, if I didn’t, you’d likely try something dangerous to manage it on your own. I already know you too well. I’m likely the only one of your acquaintances that can smuggle you inside the prison safely. And”—he paused to tuck a wayward chestnut wisp behind her ear—“it’s clear from the wistful sound of your voice whenever you speak of your uncle that you miss him.”
“Greatly,” she said. “I am indebted to him for shaping my life into what it has become. He’s the one who first taught me to read, and that I could find answers in books.”
His fingertips trailed along her jaw to the tip of her chin as he gazed down at her, feeling none of the chill that seeped in through the crack in the door, but only the warmth of that November sunlight inside him.
“I have a sense that you would have found all the answers regardless,” he said. “It’s that lion’s share of determination in your blood.”
Her lips curved in a smile so soft and welcoming that he wanted to feel it against his own. But before she could tempt him any further, Raven left her standing there, wishing he didn’t still have the taste of her on his tongue.
Chapter 17
A week later, a dingy yellow hackney drove Jane to Fleet, bumping along the streets on a dreary overcast morning. Peering through the small window, she saw Raven waiting for her outside the iron gate of the debtor’s prison.
Beneath the brim of his hat, his storm-cloud eyes watched the carriage come to a stop. Without a word of greeting, he swiftly opened the door and slipped a parcel inside. “Put this over your head before anyone sees you. I had to pull some strings to make sure no one would be asking too many questions. From what I gather, everyone knows everyone else’s business around here. So, today, you’re the widowed sister of Bill-Jack Rollins.”
“And who is Mr. Rollins?” she asked, unfolding a length of black lace from the unwrapped paper and slipped the mourning veil in place.
Raven disappeared for an instant to toss a coin up to pay the driver and bid him to wait. Then he returned with his grumbled answer. “Just someone I knew from my other life.”
Reaching inside with impatience, he set his hands around her waist, assisting her to the ground. He secured her arm in the crook of his, then cast a furtive glance around as they approached the gate.
The turnkey eyed them with a brown-eyed glare and an intimidating set to his square unshaven jaw. The man was stocky-framed and sure of himself. He wore the brim of his hat pulled low, which cast eerie shadows over his features. And he had the look of a hardened prisoner, not of a man who kept them locked up.
Jane crowded closer to Raven, a fierce shiver stumbling through her. Perhaps this wasn’t such a grand idea.
The man set the key inside the lock and the mechanism tumbled with an ominous clank. Then the heavy door groaned open.
With an impatient gestured, he bid them inside the fortified gatehouse before closing the door behind them. After a quick glance around, the man reached out and punched Raven on the shoulder, hard. “Why, you old dog.”
“Hullo, Bill-Jack,” Raven answered with a reluctant grin.
“Just look at us scrawny saplings now. All those days of trying to outrun Devil Devons ’as made the pair of us into ’andsome blokes. Yes, indeed. A’ course I see a few o’ the others from the workhouse, a time or two, strollin’ in to visit the tenants. But most of ’em are up to no good, if ye ken my meanin’. Not like us respectable types.” Bill-Jack puffed out his chest and guffawed, slapping Raven on the shoulder again. Then he turned to Jane and waggled his thick eyebrows. “And whot ’ave we got ’ere, a fine lady on your arm, eh? Must be someone special for you to bring ’ere. From what I recall, you ain’t too fond of boxes or places wif locks on the outside.”
Raven stiffened beside her and beneath her hand, she felt the muscles tense. “Some things are better off forgotten.”
“Yeh,” Bill-Jack uttered on a heavy exhale, his eyes appearing unfocused and distant. “But I still think about those two days you spent shackled in the cupboard while that devil got ’iself killed in the alleyway. Blimey! Must’ve been awful with the rats and such.”
Jane’s breath caught and her gaze shot to Raven. His profile revealed nothing, but she felt the confirmation of the story in the shudder that coursed through him. But all he said was, “I’d rather not talk about that, if it’s all the same to you.”
Her stomach turned, roiling at the frightful visions trampling through her mind. She’d been naive to imagine that being an orphan and having no family to comfort him had been the worst he’d suffered. What other horrors had he experienced?
As if knowing her every thought, he flicked a disapproving glance down at her and issued a short, low growl.
He didn’t want her pity. But that wasn’t what she was feeling. She hated what he’d suffered. If it was in her power, she would ensure that the rest of his life was wholly different than the beginning. And if she could just prove his identity and help to prepare him for society, then perhaps it would be.
“A’ course. A’ course,” Bill-Jack said with a nod. “That’s all behind us now.”
Raven reached out to shake his hand. “Much appreciated for all you’ve done today and”—he paused, and cleared the gruffness from his throat—“for all you did back then.”
Bill-Jack pumped his fist and clapped him on the shoulder with a wink. “Who’d’ve thought the two of us would end up being the ones who survived it all? But I just followed your lead. Wily as ever, I always knew you’d come out of it. Born under a lucky star, you were.” Then he turned his attention to Jane and flashed a yellowed grin. “Take good care a’ this bloke, eh? If it wasn’t for ’im, I’d a starved to death nine times over.”
“I will. I promise.” Jane extended her hand as well, and Bill-Jack grinned shyly as he wiped his own against his trouser leg before accepting. “Thank you for this favor. If there is anything you need, please don’t hesitate to ask.”