No Greater Love Read Online Free PDF Page A

shouldn’t. But he is, and it seems it must run in the family.”
    He raised one of those extraordinary eyebrows. “Oh?” he asked in that rich, deep voice.
    “Oh.” She colored. “What I meant to say is that you must be related. You do resemble a number of the family members in the portraits I’ve seen. The title is apt.”
    “Are you always given to making such personal comments, Miss Wells?”
    “Mrs. Wells. I’m sorry.” She was still in shock.
    “That you’re married? How unfortunate you should feel so.” His eyes showed a flash of humor.
    Georgia looked at him more closely. Humor was not in great supply at Ravenswalk, and she discovered that she’d missed it more than she’d realized. “Who are you?” she asked, suddenly relaxing.
    “Nicholas Daventry. I’m Raven’s nephew. I’ve been away for some time now, so I doubt you’ve heard me mentioned.”
    Georgia looked at him thoughtfully. “I see,” she finally said, then glanced around his shoulder at the house behind him, for his shoulder was too high to look over it. “I think I understand.”
    “Just what do you think you understand, Mrs. Wells?”
    “It was the condition of the Close, wasn’t it, that was upsetting you? I know. It upsets me too. I love houses, you see, and it hurts to see it unloved and uncared-for. Houses are like people. They need to be loved, lived in. I come here often, just to sit and think. I’ve become very fond of the Close—it’s a bit like an orphan, and as I was an orphan myself, I suppose I feel we have something in common. Someone needs to care.”
    He blinked, and then before Georgia knew what was happening, she found herself being pulled into his arms and kissed. It wasn’t at all like the kisses Baggie had forced on her, which had been clammy and wet and suffocating, nor like Lord Herton’s kiss, dry as parchment, the one time he’d caught her by surprise. This was quite a different sort of thing, but nevertheless it deeply alarmed her, and she took a deep breath and pushed him away, hard.
    “You presume greatly, sir,” she said, trying to stop the shaking that had come over her, and wondering why the words sounded so silly.
    He ran a hand through his hair, agitated, and took a step backward. “My apologies,” he said. “That was unforgivable. I’m afraid I was overcome by a momentary pang of some hopeless emotion. I trust you won’t send your husband after me, crying for pistols at dawn.”
    Georgia shook her head. “He’s already dead.”
    “Already … Madam, do you have any sensibilities?”
    “Oh, yes, many, although sensibilities aren’t allowed at Ravenswalk, so I suppose I’m out of practice.”
    Nicholas cocked his head and scrutinized her with a keen eye. “Perhaps,” he said slowly, “you wouldn’t mind telling me a bit of what life is like at Ravenswalk at the moment. I used to live there, you see.”
    “Well,” she said, relieved that he seemed unlikely to pursue her any further, “I suppose I could, if just for the conversation. I haven’t really had any conversation with anyone for the last eight months, at least not any that has been gratifying.” She dropped to the ground, thinking that she couldn’t possibly conduct the conversation craning her head up to his height.
    “Hmm,” he replied, dropping down next to her and pulling one long leg up. He rested his forearm on his knee and regarded her pensively. “That sounds rather dismal.”
    “Lady Raven doesn’t like fraternization among the staff, and we’re all terrified of being discovered talking to each other, I think. Dismissal is like Madame Guillotine—fast, furious, and bloody.”
    Nicholas nodded. “I’m not surprised. Tell me, how is my uncle?”
    “I don’t know; I’ve never met him. He keeps to his rooms. I have heard he is unwell, although I have never seen the doctor arrive. But again, no one will discuss him, and Cyril will not speak of it. I think perhaps this is why your cousin is often