Free Alexander-Fyn-Sanguinarian by Fyn Alexander Page A

low, the tone he used when he needed to compel someone to do something.
    Drowsily, she murmured, “But you will still sit with me and read and talk, won’t you, Dominic?”
    “Yes, of course, Dominica.” He drew the light covers up over her shoulders. “We will always be best friends.”
    “Read to me.”
    His dear, mad sister was already drifting into sleep. Raven picked up the book from beside the bed and began reading. “Cloudy fears and shapes forlorn, Fly like shadows at the morn, O’er the earth there comes a bloom, Sunny light for sullen gloom, Warm perfume for vapour cold, I smell the rose above the mould.”

    Sanguinarian 61

Chapter Four
    In the cold, early morning light Evangeline had just settled down in the carriage with Mrs. Brackett beside her and Raven opposite, when the castle door flew open. Munk ran down the wide steps, her black gown flapping about her like the wings of a great crow.
    “What is it, Munk?” Concern etched on his face, Raven leapt down, deliberated with her for several moments and then stepped back up into the carriage, not needing the step.
    “Is something wrong, my lord?” Evangeline inquired, praying nothing would prevent them from leaving. The plan she had formulated only that morning with Mrs. Brackett was perhaps not the best, and with Raven in attendance they only hoped they could put it into action, but it was all they had.
    “I cannot leave the castle. Business compels me to remain.”
    Evangeline’s heart sank. The very thought of another night in that tomb was more than she could bear. “That’s very disappointing. I do hope there is nothing wrong, my lord. Has anything unpleasant happened?”
    “No, no. It’s kind of you to be concerned, Miss Rutledge.” He looked down at her, his gaze soft. “I must apologize for startling you last night. You must understand I was merely concerned that you had cut yourself.”
    From the comfort of her corner, Mrs. Brackett piped up, “You more than startled her. The poor mite was in a dead faint when I laid eyes on her. What did you get up to?”
    “Mrs. Brackett, you are not helping,” Evangeline said. “His lordship did not mean to frighten me, and I was simply very tired 62
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    from a long journey. My imagination got the better of me.” She looked at Raven. “So I suppose we must wait until tomorrow?”
    After a long pause, during which he held her eyes intently, he asked, “Can I trust you both to go without me?”
    Evangeline’s heart surged with hope even as she tried to sound calm. “You can, my lord, but that would be your choice.”
    Raven called out to the footman. “Fetch paper and ink.” A few minutes later they watched as he scrawled a letter before handing it to Evangeline. “Take that to the Bank of England in York, it’s in Coppergate. Hodder knows where it is. You will be given access to both my funds and your own. You may feel free to spend what you wish and keep your dowry untouched.”
    “That is most generous, sir.”
    “I will be able to be far more generous after the wedding. My funds are limited at present, but there is plenty for your needs today.
    The dressmaker Hodder will take you to already has an account set up.” When Evangeline looked at him in surprise he quickly added,
    “My mother, rest her soul, used Madame Blethin for years.”
    Evangeline smiled gently. “I’m sorry, my lord, I hope all this has evoked no unpleasant memories for you. When did her ladyship pass away?”
    “Eight years ago,” Raven said.
    “Eight years?” Mrs. Brackett interjected. “And you still have an account with her dress maker?”
    “You, madam, have too much to say.” Raven’s voice was dangerously low. “I am in the process of considering whether or not to keep you in my employ. You are not helping your case.”
    Evangeline turned to the woman. “No, you are not, Mrs. Brackett.
    His lordship is being more than generous with both his time and his understanding.” She glanced