Well, it could not be helped. Vanessa carefully placed her spectacles back atop her nose. She straightened in her seat. Jeremy P. Morris. She’d carefully selected him as her future partner. An American scientist in need of money for his research—her dowry would have set him up nicely. Together they could have made great scientific discoveries.
She pulled a stray thread off her bodice and wound it around one finger. He’d seemed perfect. Levelheaded, analytical, intelligent, and not at all moved by the frivolities in life that consumed most people these days—love and lust and whatnot. He’d agreed completely with her thoughts on those matters. She unwound the thread and balled it between fingertip and thumb. Jeremy had seemed a perfect match for her.
She had even come to terms with copulation with him. They wouldn’t be plagued with passion and delusions of love. Instead, they’d share relations for reproductive purposes. He’d have made a fine father, being able to teach their children about all the meaningful things in life. But now she’d caught Jeremy in the arms of her sister. A passionate embrace, with nude limbs and moans of urgency. She shook her head to dispel the image.
If anyone could bring about a passionate response from Jeremy, it would have been Violet. What choice had that left Vanessa? She could have gone through with the wedding, married the man whom she’d thought was her perfect match. Then her sister would have been miserable. As her husband would have been. And where would that have left Vanessa?
Clearly the two of them had found something special together. Whether it would last any longer than a shooting star, Vanessa had her doubts. But who was she to stand in the way of two people who had deluded themselves into believing they’d found love? At least she’d discovered the truth before it had been too late.
Besides, this had conveniently opened up her own schedule to allow for a most important trip. She clenched her fists to stop her hands from shaking, all the while telling herself this was what was important. Her research. This was what she cared about. Thank goodness she’d had a modest stash of money hidden away. It had been intended to purchase hair ribbons and the like, but she’d simply tucked away those funds every time her mother had doled them out.
Once the carriage stopped, she’d board a train that would take her to Scotland. All the way to Inverness, to Loch Ness, where some most unusual finds had recently surfaced. Of course, those with limited imagination saw the fossil as merely a standard bone—they were speculating a bovine of some sort. But Vanessa thought better of it. Mr. Angus McElroy had unearthed evidence of the legendary creature that supposedly dwelled beneath the murky depths of the loch. She believed the locals called it a water kelpie. Had William Buckland not proved the existence of such massive creatures, though on land? Why would it be such a stretch in reality to believe there were those creatures who lived in water?
But the paleontology community had scoffed at the Scotsman’s claims, and her fiancé—rather, her former fiancé—had led the charge. He’d even published a paper refuting the find and claiming it as nothing extraordinary. She should have known then that Jeremy was not the right man to marry.
He was narrow-minded and lacked creativity. Thank goodness she would not be passing those qualities on to any future progeny. Worse still, his ideas were scientifically unsound. In short, he was wrong.
And she intended to use her time in Scotland to prove precisely that.
* * *
On the other side of London in a darkened carriage, Niall Ludley, Earl of Camden, took a shuddering breath. “I’m getting close. I know I am. I merely need more time.” His voice shook with anger or fear. He was not certain which.
He was not accustomed to being questioned so. Under normal circumstances, he would be the one in charge. Not only that, but sitting in the darkness unnerved him. He didn’t like being unable to see with whom he was speaking. What kind of man entered into a bargain with someone he didn’t know? A desperate man. A man who had no other option.
“More time,” the man said, his voice completely void of emotion. A crack of a match, then the small flame held to a cigar. A deep inhale, then a puff of smoke. The scent of sweet, spicy tobacco filled the small space. “How much more time?” the man asked.
Niall shook his head, although he knew the man could not see him. “I don’t know. Two weeks. Perhaps longer.” The truth was, he had no idea. Hell, he’d been searching for the treasure of Loch Ness for nearly six years, and he still hadn’t found it. Only recently had he discovered that there was another group of caves beneath Urquhart Castle. He’d searched the known ones, but hadn’t been able to get into the ones that reached beyond the fallen rocks that barricaded the rest of the caves.
“I can be a very patient man,” the stranger said. “I inquired a very long time about this particular treasure, and I was told you were the expert, the man who knew the most and had gotten the closest. But my patience only goes so far. I could have done what you’re doing in half the time.”
It was on Niall’s tongue to inquire why he hadn’t. This wasn’t the first time the man had mentioned such a thing. He’d said something very similar on their first meeting. Niall had asked some questions that day and received few answers, and then the man had evaporated as if he’d never been in the room. But he’d said something about how he couldn’t be seen in public anymore, that there was a bounty on his head.
So this was what Niall had been reduced to. Bargaining with a man whose identity he did not know, but who was undoubtedly a criminal. Not just bargaining with. Pleading with.
“I will find the treasure. I promise.”
“Of course you will.” Niall could hear a smile in the man’s tone. Not a cheerful, encouraging smile, but a sadistic, cruel smile. “You know the consequences if you don’t.”
“Yes, I know,” Niall said.
“Do you know what they call me?” the stranger asked, then inhaled slowly on the cigar.
“You told me your name was David,” Niall said.
“It is. No one calls me that anymore. I have a much more interesting moniker.” He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees, and Niall got the first glimpse of the man’s face. It was barely an outline, a fraction of a view highlighted only by the lamplight on the street outside. It was then that Niall noticed the pistol encased in his left hand. “My associates call me The Raven.”
Niall’s blood ran to ice, and his hands clenched into fists. He had heard the name on more than one occasion. At Solomon’s. Other members had had run-ins with a man known as The Raven, a ruthless treasure hunter that had a proclivity for theft, blackmail, kidnapping, and murder. Niall tried to keep his breathing under control. Panic would not save his wife and son. He had to be strong for them, keep his temper under control, and do whatever this bastard wanted so he could get his family back.
* * *
Graeme Langford swirled his glass of scotch as he listened to Fredrick Rigby regale him with the story of how he found the ancient scrolls of some obscure Byzantine king. Graeme took a sip of scotch, then rolled his eyes. As he stretched his legs out in front of him, the wool of his trousers felt heavy and oppressive against his skin. He knew it was time to go to Scotland. He was feeling the need to don his kilt and walk on the Highlands.
It had never been his intention to join the ranks of Solomon’s Legend Hunters, but when the invitation had come, he’d readily accepted. Most of the time, he enjoyed his association with the club, as the majority of the men were good blokes. But there were a scattered few who were just plain peculiar.
Nick Callum caught his glance from across the table and gave him a look of pure exasperation. Nick leaned forward and set down his glass, then laid his head on the table. Graeme swallowed a smile. Whenever Rigby was in the club, no one could have a conversation of their own. The damned bastard spoke so loudly and addressed the room like an assembly, so everyone was privy to his stories.
“He’s never going to shut up,” Nick said.