Alexander-Fyn-Sanguinarian

a black frock coat over the top, unbuttoned and flying open. His hands were stuffed into his pockets, not from the cold but in a dejected and bored manner. Once again he wore a hat, the brim pulled low over his eyes, and his blue spectacles. He had said almost nothing for more than an hour as she explored, only answering her questions here and there. She knew he was not enjoying himself as she was. He appeared to be almost in pain.
    “Are these your grandmother’s gardens?” She looked up at him.
    Raven rubbed his forehead with his fingers and shielded his whole Sanguinarian 181
    face with his forearm when the sun which had been hidden for several minutes behind a billowing white cloud slipped out. “Does your head hurt, my lord?”
    “Yes. If you want to talk then we must go into the alcove. I can’t think out here.” He pointed at the stone arch built into the garden walls a few yards away. “Would you mind?”
    “Not at all.”
    Raven gestured with his arm for her to precede him. In the alcove he waited until she was seated on the stone bench before sitting down beside her with a great sigh of relief. He took off his hat and pulled his glasses down to the end of his nose to look at her over the top. He leaned his back against the freezing wall behind him.
    The moment they entered the alcove the fragile warmth of the sun disappeared completely. Evangeline shivered, pulling her cloak closer about her. “Is your head hurting because of the light, my lord?”
    “It is. I suffer severe headaches if I am forced to go into bright light. The glasses help.” He was plainly feeling better sitting in the cool shadows of the alcove. “You were saying, about my grandmother?”
    “I asked if these gardens were the work of your grandmother.”
    “Yes, they are. She had them put in when she married my grandfather. Before that there was nothing but moorland surrounding the castle, that and the graveyard.”
    “They must have been lovely. They could come to life and be beautiful again.”
    Raven looked at her over his glasses. “There is no one to make them so. There is no one here to take such an interest.”
    “Wouldn’t you like the gardens to bloom again?” she asked. “Are they neglected because you haven’t the money to get them taken care of properly?”
    Raven smiled gently. “I confess that when...or rather if, I ever come into my inheritance, the prospects for which are looking grimmer by the day, that there are other priorities for me before the 182
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    gardens. I had not thought to hire a gardener at all. I rarely walk here and never in the daytime.”
    “That’s a shame.” Evangeline looked wistfully out toward the untended beds. “Was she like me?”
    “My grandmother? No, she was taller than you, with auburn hair.
    You are quite different. There’s a painting of her in the long gallery.
    Have you walked there?”
    “I have not had much chance to explore during the times I have been here.”
    “Except when looking for ways to escape?”
    “And whose fault is that?” she snapped.
    “Mine.” He turned away from her angrily, saying with a hint of sarcasm, “Everything is my fault. I’m a terrible man.”
    “You are a bossy, controlling man,” she said boldly. After all, what could he do to her now? “However, I did not mean in looks. I meant was she like me...different from you?”
    He turned his head toward her again, his shoulders still flat against the wall. “She liked flowers and being out in the sun. She liked pretty things.” He said pretty as though it were something distasteful. “She read poems and played the piano and sang. So, yes, I suppose she was like you.”
    “Did your grandfather kidnap her and lock her in a tower until he had forced her to marry him?”
    “Sarcasm does not become you!” Raven got up swiftly, walked away, and then retreated back into the shadows of the alcove.
    “No more than being a bully becomes you, so why do you do it?”
    She wished her cheeks would not grow so pink. She felt quite bold at that moment and wanted to appear braver than she felt. Pink cheeks did not help. The truth was that even though the threat of being forced to marry Raven was no longer present she still felt very apprehensive around him. There were also, strangely, moments when she felt almost sorry for him. Moments when she perceived a vulnerability in him, though it was quickly gone. Then there were other moments, Sanguinarian 183
    ones she would prefer