Alexander-Fyn-Sanguinarian

her shoulder. “My beautiful Evangeline,” he whispered over and over. When their passions had cooled sufficiently to allow movement, Raven rolled to the side and drew her into his arms. “My lord,” she whispered. “Am I still a virgin?”
    “In the legal sense, yes,” he said. “Do you like what I do to you, Evangeline?”
    “Yes, my lord. God forgive me, but I do.”
    A deep sigh shook Raven’s slender body as he held her close to his chest. “Dear girl. God will forgive you. But if you leave me, I never will. I love you.” He kissed her forehead. “I love you, Evangeline.”

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Chapter Seventeen
    Snow fell thickly again the next morning and the one after that, trapping Evangeline at Castle Haven for days. On the fourth day it was very cold and extremely overcast—far too cold for the snow to melt, yet dry enough for Lady Dominica to make the journey to Scotland. Evangeline stayed well out of the way, watching as Raven put his sister into the Ravenscroft carriage with two strong maids. He kissed and hugged her yet seemed resolute about her going. When at last the carriage disappeared through the gates he looked only relieved.
    Evangeline came down the steps to join him. “Are you sad, my lord?”
    “Only a little. I will visit her in the spring. I know she will be safe in Scotland. I have visited the establishment before. It is run by a distant relative who knows what interbreeding has done to our people.
    Come, let us go for a walk.”
    “Yes, I like to get some fresh air every day.” She looked up at Raven who had pulled on a black wool frock coat and buttoned it up in deference to the cold. She had been forced to root through the old trunks to come up with warm gowns and jackets to wear under her black cloak.
    “You look very well in that cloak. I like it very much,” he said.
    “Black suits you and so does fur. It makes you look paler.” He wrapped his arm about her, walking with her close to his side. Every now and then he dropped a kiss on her forehead.
    “It’s a bit dramatic for me,” she noted.
    “Yes,” he approved. “It is. And we must get you some new 234
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    clothes which are also dramatic. Creamy lace and velvet in dark colours with sweeping necklines.” He pushed his hand inside the cloak to illustrate his words, searching with one finger for her cleavage. Evangeline shoved his hand away, still appalled at herself for what she had allowed and enjoyed already. “My lord, please, what we do in my bed chamber is bad enough.”
    “Yes, it’s terrible,” he agreed with mock solemnity. “Tying you up against your will, taking a strap to your rear when you protest too loudly. Do you enjoy those little strips of leather I tie around your nipples?”
    “Oh yes,” she whispered, then flushed scarlet when Raven laughed loudly.
    Since that astonishing night when Evangeline had fed him and then allowed him to feed her desires, he had been very attentive and very kind. Each night he joined her in her bed and after she fed him he would quell her desires. Now she was a prisoner of a different sort.
    Raven had kept her a prisoner in her chamber and she had not objected in the least. She remained a virgin, yet she was a very satisfied woman even with Raven’s unorthodox ways of making her so.
    There was no question that he still lost his temper very easily and sometimes raised his voice to her, but he had been working extremely hard to control himself. She saw his efforts every day and praised him for it, especially since time was running out for them to marry.
    Raven’s birthday was the next day.
    “I won’t marry you, you know that, my lord,” she said suddenly, wondering if he still held out hope. She wondered also if it was entirely wise to remind him. “I cannot.”
    “Yes, it’s rather too late now, isn’t it?” To her relief he remained calm.
    “You should not have left it so late in the first place. You should have started looking for a bride a year ago.”
    “Don’t rub it in, Evangeline,” he warned.

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    “No, my lord,” she muttered.
    “Come along.” He led her down a frosted gravel path between high overgrown private hedges. They passed under an ivy-grown stone arch and into a graveyard. “I want to show you the family tombs.”
    “Oh,” was all she could manage to reply. They walked among stone angels and decorated old headstones, toward a large black granite mausoleum.
    “All the tenants are buried