Alexander-Fyn-Sanguinarian

Lady Dominica by both arms, struggling with her until the blade flew from her hand.
    “Calm down, Dominica, calm yourself, my dearest,” he repeated over and over again in a soothing, gentle tone. “There now, my darling, your brother is here.”
    Drawn by the screams, Munk entered the chamber with three tall maids in tow. She carried a vial of laudanum and while Raven held his sister down she poured several drops into Lady Dominica’s mouth. Angry, her ladyship spat at her brother and the procedure had to be repeated. Fear and distress held them all in thrall until Lady Dominica stopped struggling and fell back against her brother. “Oh, my darling, I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you? I tried not to but I could not let you hurt Evangeline.” Raven’s distress was plain in his whispered words.
    “Shall I take her, my lord?” Munk said, easing her ladyship out of Raven’s hands with the assistance of the maids. “I’ll put her to bed now and stay with her.”
    “How did she get out?” he demanded wearily.
    “I don’t know, my lord, I’m sorry. I’ll find out. It will not happen again. She is clever at finding ways of escape. My poor dear Lady Dominica.”
    “She must go to Scotland,” Raven said sadly. “I have put it off long enough. Make the arrangements, Munk.”

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    “Yes, my lord,” Munk said, following the maids from the chamber.
    Evangeline remained by the wall where she had flown when the scuffle began. Raven sat on the side of the bed, his head sunk into his hands, weary and sad. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he muttered over and over again.
    “Your sister has gone,” Evangeline said coming toward him.
    He looked up. “I know that. It is you I am apologizing to, Evangeline. It is you Dominica wanted to kill.” His mouth was tight with pain.
    “Why?” she asked quietly, wanting desperately to reach out her hand to touch his face.
    “I love Dominica, but she gets so jealous. She knows I wanted to marry you.”
    “Surely she knows it would have been nothing more than a marriage of convenience that would help her as much as you.”
    His shoulders sagged miserably—he looked terribly tired and drawn. “Dominica is very perceptive. Her senses are finely tuned, even in her madness. She knew what was happening.”
    “I don’t understand.” She stood before him, her heart opening to him as it had done that morning.
    “She is jealous of you,” he said with an edge to his voice. “What does that mean to you?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “She has reason to be jealous.” He glanced at her before looking away again. “I have been planning to send her to a sanatorium in Scotland run by our kind. I can put it off no longer. She must go before she kills someone.”
    “Raven,” Evangeline whispered, her hand straying of its own accord to rest on his hair. He took her other hand, pressing it to his cheek, then kissed her palm.
    “Evangeline, my dear. I have hurt you and lied to you. My sister has tried to kill you. No wonder you think you are in a madhouse with 220
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    an evil man.”
    Evangeline stepped closer. Raven released her hand and wrapped both his arms around her small body, pressing his face against her breasts. She responded at once by embracing him.
    The lamp had long since run out of oil and extinguished. The fire was nothing but embers casting them into near darkness. Evangeline held him tight, not wanting to release him and yet unsure why. Surely he was the most contemptible of men. He looked up at her, his face long and angular, his skin nearly white. She trailed her hand down his back over the long length of his silken hair, and shivered.
    “I’ll build up the fire for you.” He got up and began to pile logs into the embers.
    “That’s not why I shivered,” she whispered.
    Raven looked over his shoulder. “What was that, my dear?”
    “Nothing.” She smiled.
    He shifted the logs about with the poker until they caught light.
    “You forget. I hear everything, including thoughts.”
    A warm flush rose up her cheeks. Swiftly Raven met her at the foot of the bed. Taking her face in his hands he tilted her chin and met her lips with his. For an instant Evangeline flinched, wanting the kiss, yet fearful she would taste blood. Raven stopped. Had he read that thought too? He looked deeply into her eyes, his expression neutral, completely undemanding. If she wanted this kiss she would have to ask for it. “You may kiss me,” she said in a