Fabian Darcy lounged back in the majestic throne chair positioned in the middle of the dais. Some of his men were out scouring the streets of London and Paris looking for his sister, Estelle. Another group had the task of finding the Marquess of Trevane’s sister and bringing her to Raven Island.

The creak of the centuries-old door drew his attention. His heart hadn’t stopped pounding since Graves woke him to say he’d spotted a ship approaching. Fabian had stood by the brazier on the roof of the keep and watched the small boat ferry his guest ashore. He imagined Vane’s distress upon discovering he’d failed to protect the only person who mattered.

It was a feeling Fabian knew well.

The soft pad of footsteps on the stone floor forced him to focus. Lady Lillian Sandford walked towards him with the same regal air she’d possessed as a child. A satisfied grin threatened to form, but he dismissed it along with the secret fascination he’d nurtured since boyhood.

“Lady Lillian.” He jumped to his feet, delighting in the look of instant recognition, and relief flashing in her eyes. Her hair was as dark as he remembered, her lips as pink and full. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

A frown marred her pretty brow. She searched his face before scanning his unconventional attire. No doubt she preferred seeing a gentleman in a starched cravat and tight-fitting coat, not an open-collared shirt hanging over buckskin breeches.

“Lord Ravenscroft.” The lady curtsied. “Or should I call you the Raven? That is the name you use when sailing the high seas is it not?”

So, she had kept abreast of his movements in recent years. “Merchants must have faith that their goods will reach the destination without incident. The name merely conveys confidence that I’m a man who gets the job done.”

“Oh, I wondered if it was a reference to your obsidian eyes and ebony locks, although my brother is more inclined to believe it has something to do with your black heart.”

Fabian gritted his teeth. The mere mention of Vane caused him to clench his fists at his sides. For eight years he’d dreamed of knocking the rogue on his arse and taking aim. But firing a ball into Vane’s chest would not bring Estelle back. And if Fabian’s current plan had any hope of success, he had to remain calm and composed.

“The raven is a symbol of good luck, or so I’d have my clients believe. Equally, they are opportunistic birds. They take what they can where they can find it.” And that’s exactly how he’d made his fortune, taking the jobs others deemed too risky.

The lady narrowed her gaze. “When it comes to kidnapping, I have to agree that both luck and opportunity played a part. How fortunate that Mr Green had a mishap with his balloon.”

Knowing his men, it was no mishap but the result of meticulous skill and planning. “While I’m yet to hear the details of their mission, my men know to take advantage of any situation.” He cast her a mischievous grin. “As do I, Lillian.”

Damn. He hadn’t meant to use her given name, or for his voice to carry a sensual undertone. Still, from what he’d heard, she was accustomed to gentlemen being far too familiar. The thought roused his ire.

“Then they must get their thieving ability from their master.” She touched the gold locket resting at the base of her throat as though it had a magical ability to bring the wearer courage. “Are you not a pirate, my lord? Are you not a man used to taking what he wants?”

Fabian laughed. “Is that what your brother told you? Perhaps the thought that he’s not the only scoundrel helps him sleep easier at night.”

“So you deny the allegation?”

“I run a legitimate business, but believe what you will.” He stepped down from the dais, and the lady stepped back. “Stealing you away from home is the only criminal act I’ve ever committed, and so on that count, I raise my hands guilty as charged.”

“One thing is certain,” she said lifting her chin.

“And what is that?”

“I’m looking at a dead man. My brother will kill you and leave your head on a spike as a warning to those who dare to cross him.”

Fabian folded his arms across his chest. “Would you care to make a wager to that effect?”

“I know him better than anyone. It won’t matter that we were once friends and neighbours. You’d be a fool to underestimate him.” A weary sigh left her lips. “After all, what has he to lose?”

“What have any of us to lose?” He closed the gap between them. “Vane robbed me of the only thing that mattered. Perhaps it’s time I returned the favour.” Oh, it was a fitting retribution: an eye for an eye, a sister for a sister.

“You speak as though I should fear you, my lord.” She bit down on her bottom lip as she watched his every move. She looked pale and tired though not from lack of sleep. “And yet I must admit to being relieved to find you’re my captor.”

“Then allow me to advise you to have a care. I’m no longer the sweet young man you remember.” Hate and bitterness filled his heart now, and he made sure she heard it in his voice. Her family’s evil actions had purged him of any romantic notions he might have once possessed. “Don’t make the mistake of trusting me. Don’t imagine for a minute that I won’t use you to get what I want.”

“And what do you want, Fabian?” She shuffled back a few steps and surveyed the vaulted ceiling, the fan of swords on the wall above the dais, and the vast array of antlers displayed as trophies from successful hunts. “Why act the wicked baron and bring me to a castle in the middle of Lord knows where? Had you asked for my help or guidance, I would have given it freely.”

The sound of his given name falling from her lips threw him off kilter although only momentarily. “It is not your help I need.”

She stared at him for a moment and swallowed deeply. “I see.” Those two words held a wealth of pain and disappointment. “You mean to use me in the hope my brother will fall at your feet and do whatever you ask. Am I to be played and discarded like a pawn in your bid to capture the king?”

Guilt surfaced and to cleanse his conscience he thought of Estelle, suffering in squalor for eight years while the world presumed her dead.

“Estelle is alive.” He squeezed the words past the lump in his throat.

A stunned silence filled the vast hall.

“Alive?” Lillian’s eyes grew wide. She jerked her head back and clutched her locket. “But she perished when The Torrens sank off the French coast.”

Fabian’s heart thumped in his chest as he pictured his sweet sister struggling to stay afloat amid a sea of bloated bodies and the remains of the wooden wreckage. “I have every reason to believe she survived.”

“But how can that be?” Lillian shook her head, confusion swimming in her hazel eyes. The lack of light in the gloomy hall made her irises appear earthy brown, yet he knew they were ringed with a hypnotic shade of green. Indeed, he daren’t look too closely for fear of falling under their spell. “Why has she not come home?”

“How can she? She doesn’t know where home is.” Besides his men, few knew the island's location. “When Estelle ran away my father owned Prescott Hall. We lost everything when we invested in your father’s mining venture.”

A cold chill swept over him. He would never forget the pained look on his father’s face when he delivered the devastating news. They’d had no choice but to break the entail as Fabian would have struggled to maintain the property under the burden of such a heavy debt.

A blush touched Lillian’s cheeks. “My father was a frivolous man who cared nothing for other men’s hardships.”

The hint of shame in her voice pleased him. “In that, we agree.”

“Then am I to understand that this impressive building is a recent purchase?”

“My first ship was my home for several years. Now I have the funds to live wherever I please.”

It suited him to live away from the society he despised. Gentlemen were fickle. A lord could rob a man of his wealth and blame it on a bad investment. When a poor man took advantage of the rich, they called him a thief and a pirate.

“And it pleases you to hide away here?”

Fabian straightened. Lillian Sandford had always known what to say to rile him. “What are you insinuating? You may call me a pirate, but do not label me a coward.” He’d beaten men to a pulp for less. “I live here because I cannot bear hypocrisy. I live here because I can do what I damn well please whenever I choose.”

“How fortunate.” Her hazel eyes searched his face, probing, accessing. “Like all birds, the raven is a symbol of freedom. As a woman, doing what I please is a luxury I can ill afford.”

The comment brought about an unexpected tightening in his chest. “Walk with me.” It was a command, not a request. He could no longer stand there looking into those sorrowful pools and pretend to feel nothing.

They left the great hall and climbed the stairs to the top of the keep. Neither spoke though guilt flared when he heard her breathless pants but did not offer his assistance.

He led her to the brazier. The dying flames gave off enough heat to keep the chill in the air at bay. “Look out and tell me what you see.”

Sailors stared at the wide stretch of ocean, their minds engaged in planning their next wild adventure. Lillian gazed up at the full moon, at the stars twinkling in the inky sky. The vastness often made a person feel insignificant. For others, the majesty of it all proved powerful enough to cleanse the soul. Her little sighs and gasps told him she took comfort from the peace and stillness of the night.

“It is hard to comprehend how something so magnificent can exist in such a cruel world,” she said softly. Did she speak of a past suffering, or of her distress upon being kidnapped by a pirate?

“Nature causes just as much devastation as man. Ask anyone who’s sailed during a thunderstorm or been swamped by thirty-foot waves.” He thought of Estelle scrambling to keep her head above the water and quickly sought a way to change the subject. “Hold out your arms and twirl around, but keep your fingers wide apart.”

She turned and frowned at his odd request. “Why?” Perhaps she thought he meant to ridicule her.

“Do it, and then I shall tell you.”

“What, so you may mock me?” She ventured closer to the parapet and peered at the jagged rocks below. “Or is it your intention to make me dizzy? Would it suit your plan if I tumbled over the edge and plunged to my death?”

Panic gripped him. Fabian closed the gap between them. Surely the woman wasn’t fool enough to jump. “I’ve spent eight years blaming myself for Estelle’s death.” Vane was culpable, too. “I’ll not have yours on my conscience.”

“And yet you kidnapped me and brought me here to live with a crew of seafaring men.” She stepped back, an incredulous look distorting her pretty features. “Do you think the matrons will accept me now? In our society, a woman with a ruined reputation may as well be dead.”

“From what I hear it is too late to worry about your virtue.” He hadn’t meant his words to sound so blunt, but anger burned inside. It was too late to offer advice about the company she kept, and he blamed Vane for her lack of judgement. “Only marriage can save you now.”

“Marriage?” Lillian gave a mocking snort. “How foolish of me. Why did I not think of it before? I’ll simply pick one of the many men clambering over each other to marry the disreputable sister of a scoundrel.”

Fabian fell silent. He relished those few seconds of peace, for his world was about to erupt into a cacophony of questions and protests. “Why pick another man when you can marry me?”