Raven

Confusion struck me as a rather strange feeling, somehow empty and complicated all at once. I'd been alone with it for hours after Ash's unexpected visit, hoping that solitude would help me untangle the mess. It hadn't. I wanted to hear Madeleine's opinion, but feared her answer would be to run after Ash, yelling at him to leave me be. And, no matter my confusion, I didn't want that.

Sleep hadn't helped either.

I'd been twisting and turning until the sheets had tangled together. Ash didn't deserve the treatment he'd received, mostly because he hadn't done anything to warrant my complicated response. If he reminded me of Freddie, that had more to do with me than it did with him. Projecting, or whatever it was they called it. Just because Ash shared some of Freddie's charming sides, it didn't mean they shared the bad ones.

I kept thinking of ways to avoid thinking, but my success rate so far was not promising. Under normal circumstance I would have dived into work with all the focus in the world to shut off my brain. The only problem was that I kept watching the door from where I perched on the sofa, waiting for Ash to either go back on his promise, or join me in the library. Both options struck me as uncomfortable.

My best chance to settle this situation was to simply hand over all the documents to Ash and continue my own search for antiquities. That way I wouldn't have to be in the same room, which in turn would decrease the risk of him finding me staring. I had to cure this ridiculous attraction, especially since everyone, including me, knew how futile and dangerous it was. Madeleine had told me again and again how many guys the man had left heartbroken in London. However, hypothetical scenarios were silly to consider, especially since Ash hadn't shown any type of interest beyond being friendly. If I were to get caught in a disastrous love affair, it required a mutual interest.

A creaking sound pulled my attention to the doorway, and my guts right about dropped in an instant. I hadn't thought he would come—not for real. He'd dressed for comfort, wearing a loose cardigan over a thin T-shirt. I could see far too much of his collarbones.

"So, ready to put me to work?" he asked with an easy smile. He strode closer, closing the distance between us while I tried to come up with something suitable to say.

I didn't find my voice until he sat beside me on the sofa, cocking his head as though he waited for me to get my act together. "If you want to read, I thought it might be a good idea if I continued with the regular inventory. I fear I've been neglecting the original job description." I hoped he hadn't heard how difficult that was to say.

"You seem to be making plenty of progress, and you can't abandon me the first day on the job—that would be plain evil." Still that easy smile that made me all kinds of distracted.

I noticed his arm on the back of the sofa, trailing it with my gaze until I caught myself staring at his collarbones again. Instead of answering, I grasped for a pile of bundled up letters I'd found in a forgotten drawer the night before. "You can start with these."

He tugged uselessly at the string of red yarn that held them together. "Am I supposed to be careful with stuff like this as well? This looks like a Gordian knot in miniature."

"Do you want me to get a scissors?" I hoped that answered the question for him.

When he eyed me sheepishly, I couldn't help the smile that tugged at my lips. He'd opted for a clean shave this morning, revealing a set of dimples I hadn't seen before.

He snapped the yarn while I watched, giving me the distinct feeling that he was somehow making fun of the situation, or of me. "So, what am I looking for?" he asked.

"Anything you think might be important."

I grinned at his facial expression. He looked almost horrified, mouth slightly open and his forehead marred with lines of surprise. "How would I know what's important? See, this is why you can't leave me alone. I'll need supervision."

"Then you won't be much help, will you?" I was teasing him. I. Was. Teasing. Him. Where had that come from?

He made a show of opening the first letter, clearing his throat. "January 3rd." He frowned and held the frail paper at arm's length, then closer. "This is ridiculous. How do you read this? The ink is faded."

"Shall I fetch you a magnifying glass?"

"Ouch, that hurt." He didn't appear to be very hurt at all. "For your information, I don't wear glasses yet."

It was difficult not to continue laughing. To ease the situation, I reached for the loupe I regularly used and gave it to him. "I wasn't just a joke. Although, this one is better suited when you search for tiny insignias rather than reading letters."

He placed it against the paper, then closer to his right eye. In fact, he fidgeted with it for quite some time before he discarded it again and cleared his throat again. "January 3rd 1820. This should be good," he commented. "Dearest friend, I hope this letter finds you in good health for I have made preparations for our journey North. If you would be so gracious as to take the Coach as far as Oxford I shall meet you there at earliest convenience. I have my horses ready and an excuse at hand. I but need confirmation and a date. Ever yours, D." Ash shot me a flat stare. "This can't be very useful."

"Not as such, but it does spark the imagination. Who were they meeting? Why was the letter not more personal? The writer doesn't even state their full name. Also, why would they need an excuse to meet?"

"I see your point, but I'm not in this for the scandal. You should tell Mads to read these instead."

I listened for a tone of true reticence and found none. "Everyone secretly loves drama, and you did mention intrigue the other day. Surely this should be right up your alley."

"We shall see." Ash seemed less than convinced.

****

We spent a few hours in companionable silence and occasional exchanges whenever Ash felt the need to comment on something he'd read. Usually, he made fun of his relatives and their outdated problems. I didn't have the heart to remind him that the world had been a very different place back then. His mood was infectious.

I'd dropped my guard far too easily, but this was all supposed to be safe. The two of us in a room that smelled of dust and wooden shelves, reading rather than talking—I had a hard time thinking of a better situation to start fresh. And, perhaps we had done so already. Our round of banter seemed to have taken the edge off what had happened over the past week. It was almost as if nothing had happened. Which was true, and still not completely true.

The old springs beneath us squeaked as Ash shifted his weight, and I realized I'd groaned out loud and in turn caught his attention.

"Apologies."

"What for?" he asked, clearly amused.

I couldn't exactly tell him about my confusion. Not when we were having a pleasant morning. I deflected. "Did you find more mysterious letters from our D."

Ash rifled through the pile. "I found another one dated from around the same period, but signed with a different initial. Let me see if I can find it."

"Ahem." The sound from the doorway startled both of us to the point where our gestures became reflections of the other's. I wondered if this was what it felt like to be caught with hands in the cookie jar. Madeleine did not look pleased. "And what are you two doing?" she asked, mostly staring at Ash.

"What does it look like we're doing?" Ash replied, seemingly unperturbed. I wondered how he did it.

Madeleine huffed out a sound, clearly not in the mood to be questioned. "Reading. Now, why don't you tell us why you're really here, Ash?"

I knew she trying to help me, but this was starting to go a bit overboard. I was perfectly capable of taking care of myself—I'd learned my lessons. Besides, Ash was my employer and had every right to read letters in his own library. This was not proper!

"Madeleine, please. Ash is helping me." Please don't make this difficult.

She eyed me with obvious suspicion. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Mads, I think Raven can decide what works for him. I offered to help and he accepted. So far we've been reading old accounts of various gossip and flimsy rumours. I'm sure you'd be thrilled to hear about the old pieces of drama over lunch."

"And I wasn't asking you. I'm asking Raven." This was not going in the right direction.

"I'm fine. Really, Ash is being helpful and I don't mind." It felt strange to admit such a thing, as innocuous as it was, because it implied that there was something going on beneath the surface—something we were all aware of.

Madeleine didn't move an inch. Her scrutiny was making me antsy, but I also felt gratitude that she wanted to make sure I was alright. To ask her to leave would be plain insulting.

When she finally relaxed her stance and smiled, my breathing came a little easier. "Fine, so what have you found? If you're holding back on the drama, Ash, I won't ever forgive you." Her tone had reverted back to something more familiar, something warm and inviting.

Ash produced a letter from the top of the pile. "I was just about to read this to Raven when you came in. It's from 1821 and quite cryptic, as Raven helped me realize when I read a previous one." He sent me a grin, stalling longer than what could be considered normal. His gaze appeared strangely wistful.

"And it says?" Madeleine gestured to move forward, slow enough that it highlighted just how long he'd kept silent.

"Right. Let's see. Dearest, this extended absence wears on the heart. I wish it were possible to settle somewhere close, yet I fear we will be easily fooled into false security." He paused and looked at both of us. "This is rather sappy."

"Yes, so continue," Madeleine said with a degree of impatience similar to what I'd seen those times we'd gossiped over late night tea.

"Craven is not impressed with our conduct, or so I have surmised based on our latest conversations. He thinks these letters are unnecessarily risky, and although I have been known to listen to the man's advice in the past, I shall do as I please. You are too dear to me to simply cease our correspondence. Please return to the city soon, the season is about to begin. If not, then at least give me word of your plans. Every yours, K."

A beat of silence passed between us.

"It's much shorter than the other letters you've read to me, Raven," Madeleine remarked, "and a great deal more familiar. You'd almost think it's a love letter."

"That's because it is a love letter," I couldn't help but say.

Madeleine all but crooned. "So a forbidden romance then? Otherwise I think they would have married. Wasn't that what they did back then? Rushing blind into marriage and hoping for the best. This is so romantic."

"This is why we should employ Mads to read these letters. Listen to her, she's already sniffing for the next one." Ash dangled the letter in front of her, and I had to keep my chuckles to myself as she grasped the air uselessly. "But then, you've been quite unpleasant this past week, dodging questions and throwing accusations. Perhaps I better keep this to myself."

"Now you're just being unfair. I was trying to protect the guy from your awful track record, and for good reason. Now give me that." She flexed her fingers and snatched the letter in a swift strike. I might have continued to enjoy the moment if not for her words. She'd unknowingly tampered with that delicate balance Ash and I had forged between us. For good reason. I didn't want him to know of any reasons.

I could see the question in his eyes, but I was not ready to answer.

"Perhaps we should try to figure out who this D character is," I said to break the building tension.

"D might stand for Demalier, which doesn't really help." Ash didn't seem convinced.

"Nonsense, you have a date on the letter. Surely we might be able to figure out whom of your relatives conducted themselves with such romantic disgrace." I was teasing him again, only, I'd forgotten that Madeleine stood right next to me.

A fleeting glance in her direction told me she'd noticed. "Well, aren't you the talkative one today? You and me, later." She pointed at me, then at herself, then somewhere toward the door. "We need to have a chat."

"Of course." I couldn't very well refuse her.

"Good, then I better get back to my gardening." She smiled, waved, then gave Ash what must have felt like a solid sort of stare.

The tension in the room seemed to lift as she stepped across the threshold.

"Well then," Ash said. "I better go find some kind of family tree if we want to puzzle this out."

Suddenly worried that I'd been a fool to suggest this endeavour, I gave us both an opening to back out. "You do understand this isn't part of what you hired me for, right?"

He clapped my shoulder as he rose from the sofa, a swift tap that somehow echoed how long it had been since I'd been truly touched. After Freddie, it hadn't been the same.

Ash quelled those thoughts as he responded, "I quite like playing detective, so what do you say? Should we give this a thorough investigation after lunch?"

It was hard to resist his charms. I could see how people had fallen over their feet to get closer even if they knew they'd burn for their effort.

"Yes, why not?"

I could see how others would fall, but I knew better. I'd already been burned once before, and again, Ash was not Freddie. 

A/N So, I'm getting quite a bit of writing done. I'm even 1K into the next chapter, which agaaaain is from Ash's POV. I hope you enjoyed this one, and if you did, please drop me a comment if you want to show some love, and vote. Please vote. It does so help with visibility <3