Page 31 of A Raven Reformed

“Come here.” He pulled her down so she was lying beside him, her luscious backside pressed against his hip. “Raven Row is not a very safe place for you, Belle.”

He felt her scowl against his arm. “Rosie lives there, and she seems to be just fine.”

“Rosie does have security and a few rules to keep her safe, like never venturing out alone. Perhaps we can figure out something similar.”

Belle rolled over to face him. “Really?” Her face was lit with happiness. How could he possibly say no?

“Are you sure that’s what you want? My townhouse isn’t nearly as comfortable as Glenwood. We’d have to share a bedroom.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” She raised her eyebrows, a teasing sparkle in her eyes.

He reached for her without thinking and winced as pain burned across his arm again.

“You’re supposed to be resting.”

“Well, pull that blanket back over us then.”

“I really should return to our guests, you know.”

He liked to hear her sayourguests. Perhaps she was starting to feel like less of an outsider. If anyone could help her with that, it was Rosie.

“Ash is taking care of all that and sending everyone home.”

She didn’t argue anymore and simply covered them with the blanket before throwing both her arm and leg over the top of him and pulling herself tightly against him. There was nothing better in the world than her warmth and softness against his skin.

When Michael joined Patrick and Ash a few hours later, he was surprised to see Giles still with them.

“What are you still doing here? I’m not likely to be a very good host. No more shooting contests or any other kind of sport for that matter.”

“I’m not leaving you here when there’s a deranged man out there. If he manages to kill you, this”—he gestured wildly with his arms—”all falls to me, and God knows I don’t want any part of that kind of responsibility.”

“Fair enough.” Michael didn’t blame him. Most days he wished he only had The Raven’s Den and didn’t have to also worry about the title, estates, tenants… God, he didn’t even like thinking about it all.

Michael poured himself a glass of barley water and sat down. Ash eyed every move he made. “Are you sure you should be up and about?”

“The pain is much less now after resting for a few hours.”

“And spending some time with your wife?” Patrick gave him a conspiratorial wink.

“That too.” Michael wasn’t going to give Patrick the satisfaction of thinking he’d embarrassed him.

“Don’t discourage him,” Giles said. “The sooner he has an heir, the sooner I become the spare.”

“Well,” Ash said, tapping his cane agitatedly against the floor. “Why don’t we discuss the shooting, so we can keep him alive long enough for that to happen.”

“Hear hear!” Patrick emptied his glass down his throat. “So, Michael, who did you annoy so much they want you dead?”

“I wish I knew. I still think it has to be some kind of accident. The only person I’ve upset recently would be my wife, and she didn’t do it.”

Ash shook his head. “I’m afraid it wasn’t an accident. While you were resting, the doctor was accosted on his way back to the village.”

Michael’s temper flared. “Is he hurt?”

“No.” Ash shook his head. “Just pushed to the ground and his medical bag was taken.”

“Was he able to give a description of his attacker?”

“Tall, thin man with dark hair.”

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