Swept Away by Phoebe Conn Page A

Raven’s as they took their places in the first pew. The church was filled to overflowing with sailors, townspeople, servants, and tenant farmers. It was an unusual gathering but she had known most of Alex’s close friends would be in London and unable to reach Briarcliff in time to attend the service. She was pleased that so many others who had known and admired her husband had wanted to be with him now.
    They knelt frequently for prayers during the service, but she did not release Raven’s hand. Unlike Alex’s, his palm was callused, evidence of his active life at sea, and she found that sign of physical strength immensely comforting. Alex had never been strong, despite his zest for life, but she needed the strength his love could no longer provide and drew it from Raven.
    She and Alex had not discussed his funeral, but Eden was pleased when Robert Boyer, the priest who had known him for many years, was able to provide a moving eulogy. She had wondered if Raven might not wish to give it himself, but thoughtfully did not force him to refuse when he did not make the offer voluntarily. She knew him to be a very private person who kept both his thoughts and feelings to himself. Respecting that right, she sat by his side, too numbed by grief to weep, and said her own goodbyes as silently as he.
    That Eden kept running her thumb across his palm nearly drove Raven to distraction and finally he grasped her hand in both of his to make such an intimate gesture impossible to continue. Had the woman no idea what she was doing to him? he wondered. Didn’t she care? Or was she deliberately trying to seduce him just as she must surely have seduced Alex? That struck him as the most obvious explanation but didn’t she at least have the decency to wait until Alex was buried to do it?
    When it came time for the pall bearers to carry Alex’s coffin to the adjacent cemetery, Raven leapt to his feet, eager for the excuse to be among the first to leave the church. The service had been a fitting tribute to Alex’s memory but as deeply aware of Eden’s presence as he was of the tragedy of the occasion, Raven had seen and heard little of it. Now he just wanted to get outside where he would be able to breathe deeply without filling his lungs with the incense-laden air that reminded him all too vividly of the smell of death.
    Alex’s grave had been dug next to Eleanora’s, but until they began to lower his coffin into the ground, Raven had not remembered that she had been buried in the Clairbourne family plot Her grave was marked by an exquisitely carved marble angel, and he wondered what sort of headstone Eden had requested for Alex. Certain it would be inappropriate no matter what she had chosen, he decided to cancel her order and place one of his own.
    When the priest had completed the graveside prayers, Eden stepped forward to toss the first handful of dirt into the grave, but her expression gave no hint of her despair. Heartbroken that she had lost the husband she adored so shortly after their wedding, she nevertheless managed to survive the afternoon without breaking down in front of the people who followed her back to Briarcliff to offer their condolences. She did not want her behavior to reflect poorly on Alex’s choice of an American bride, but nothing in her young life had prepared her to survive such a tragic loss, and while she hid her pain bravely, she doubted it would ever go away.
    Randy MacDermott had not met Eden before that day, but he was impressed not only by her rare beauty but also by her strength of character. “She’s got plenty of courage,” he remarked to Raven. “She must have made Alex a fine wife.”
    Raven was relieved when Randy seemed to find a noncommittal nod reply enough to an opinion he knew he would never share. All around him he heard people whispering the same admiring comments but in his view Eden was merely indifferent rather than stoic. At least she had frequently been drawn away from his side,