Page 2 of A Raven Returns

With a nod toward the desk, he gave his instructions, but she didn’t want to comply. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. He lifted the leather strap from where it hung on the side of his bookshelves.

She walked slowly around to the opposite side of the desk, her heart galloping inside her chest and her throat aching as she tried to hold back her tears. Her body trembled as she laid herself across the hard wooden surface.

Greg slowly approached, and her fear and anger clashed creating an explosion inside of her. As he bent to lift her skirts, her hand shot out and grabbed the candlestick beside her. She spun around, swinging wildly until it connected with a sickening thud. Greg crumpled to the floor.

Dropping the candlestick, she clapped both hands over her mouth. What had she done? Was he dead? Oh lord, she was going to hang. She instantly hated herself for the thought. What kind of horrible person would think that before anything else? A groan issued from his mouth, and for a moment, she praised God. But if he was alive, that meant he could beat her, and he surely would now. She grabbed the letters from the desk and stuffed them into her waistband. After one last glance down at Greg, she sprinted from the room. More groans floated out behind her, pushing her onward.

Gwen ran, as fast as her feet would carry her, to the stables. Thank heavens the groom hadn’t yet removed the saddle from Greg’s horse. She tugged the reins out of the man’s hands and launched herself onto the horse.

She urged the beast forward, but it was agitated by her abrupt appearance and stamped about briefly before obeying her. It had cost her precious seconds and Greg arrived just as she finally exited the stables. He grabbed onto her boot, nearly pulling her off of the horse. With a screech and a desperate tug, her foot came free of the boot and with the other one, she kicked the animal into motion.

“Fifty strokes await you when you return,” he called out as she galloped away from him.

“I’m not coming back!” she shouted over her shoulder.

He simply shook his head. “Where will you go?”

It was true. She had nowhere else to go, but the mere threat of fifty strokes set her backside ablaze. If she returned, she would indeed feel the sting of the leather strap. She leaned low over the horse’s neck and urged it faster and faster away from the house.

ChapterTwo

Woodburn Hall loomed over Ash as he stood outside the front door. It was a monstrosity of a house. He breathed in deeply, steeling himself for what had to be done. Everyone here needed to believe him to be the same tyrant as his father if he wanted his plan to work. Giving a last look at Fogg, he nodded and wrenched open the heavy door.

Ash strode into the large entry hall. A footman gasped at his sudden intrusion, nearly dropping the silver candelabra he was carrying. Ash hadn’t given any warning that he was coming.

After a few seconds, the footman sank into a deep bow, eventually recognizing who Ash must be. “My lord.”

Ash closed his eyes, centering himself. No one addressed him by his title and hearing it after all this time made his skin crawl. In Ash’s mind, his father was still Lord Ashdown, despite the fact he’d been dead seventeen years. He let out a long sigh. He needed to play the role to perfection in order to set expectations for his visit. He straightened himself to his full height, drawing his shoulders back.

“Where is Moulton?” he barked.

The butler appeared from an adjoining hallway. Tall, perfectly starched, and not a single dark hair out of place, just as Ash remembered, except for the grey creeping in at his temples.

“Sam, go to the—” Moulton stopped mid-sentence, his eyes growing wide as they landed on Ash. “My lord!” He hurried over, holding out a hand for Ash’s hat and coat, but Ash didn’t remove them.

“Moulton, this is my man, Fogg. He is to have unfettered access to every room in Woodburn Hall.”

“Y… yes, my lord.” Moulton tried to hide his confusion, but it showed on his round face nonetheless.

“And I mean, unfettered access, Moulton. If he chooses to go through the nightstand of a housemaid, he is to be left to his business. If he requires keys or access to anything, including in my private chambers or study, you will provide it without question. Any orders he may give are to be followed as if they were my own. Do I make myself clear?”

The butler straightened his spine and nodded. “Yes, my lord.” He hadn’t had anyone to answer to in a very long time. Ash desperately wanted to put the older man at ease and assure him he wasn’t the overlord his father had been, but he needed him to believe otherwise for the time being.

“Right,” Ash said, tapping his cane, the sound muffled by the thick carpet. He was glad to see everything at least appeared to be kept up as it should, even in his absence. He turned to Fogg. “I’m off before I lose all light.”

“Yes, my lord.” Ash cringed inwardly. It was even worse to hear those words from Fogg’s mouth. He only ever addressed him as Ash or boss, but he, too, needed to play a role here. “It looks like it may rain,” he warned.

“Not to worry, Fogg. I may have been away for a while, but I grew up here. I know this estate like the back of my hand. I’ll find shelter if need be.”

Ash managed to ride to the outer edge of his property before the clouds really began to thicken. This time of year, darkness came early anyway, but he had hoped for a couple of hours to check for any signs of recent repairs, or things just not as they should be. So far, there was nothing obvious, but he’d seen only a fraction of the sprawling property, so he kept going, even as an icy raindrop landed on his cheek.

He guided his horse into the trees, but when the sky opened up, even they provided almost no protection from the pounding rain. Fortunately, there was a small hunting cabin nearby. He’d take shelter there until it eased up a bit.

The disused, wooden structure still stood, if a little worse for wear. The cold made Ash’s leg ache as he climbed down from the saddle. The attached stable, if you could call it that, was every bit as run down as the cabin, and devoid of anything for his horse. At least it offered shelter from the elements, and they wouldn't be here long.

Ash pulled his gloves off as he made his way around to the front of the cabin. He opened the door and stumbled backwards as a horse bolted through, nearly trampling him, and knocking his hat right off his head. “What the blazes?” His heart pounded in rhythm with the horse’s hooves as it galloped away through the trees.

Before he could turn back to see what else might be inside the cabin, something hard landed against his shoulder, sending pain shooting down his arm.

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