Detecting Danger (Sinclair and Raven Book 11) Read online

  DETECTING DANGER

  WENDY VELLA

  CONTENTS

  Detecting Danger

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Want More?

  Seduced By A Devil

  Wendy’s Books

  About the Author

  DETECTING DANGER

  By Wendy Vella

  He could no longer deny what was inside him

  When you knew someone almost as well as you knew yourself, you tended to take them for granted. Warwickshire Sinclair had always felt that way about Lady Samantha… until he didn’t.

  When Samantha left for a year to study art, he was determined the ache of longing and worry that had taken up residence in his chest would ease. It hadn’t. Life had seemed dull without her.

  When she returns to them, Warwick can no longer deny what is inside him. Samantha held his heart. Completely and utterly. But the letter she carried had the power to change their lives forever. They must fight to secure her freedom and keep her safe. Only then could he forge a future with the woman he loved.

  Will she forfeit her happiness to keep him safe?

  The day she realized she was free of the hell she’d been raised in, Samantha vowed she would make each day of her life count. Her family thought her sweet and gullible: she was neither. Samantha was determined to be happy, even if that meant seeing Warwick Sinclair every day. He’d always seen her as a friend, and that would never change, no matter how much she wished it would.

  When a letter arrived just as she was to return home, the contents sent her back to the terrified child she’d once been. Even from the grave her father had power over her.

  Her powerful family vowed they would not allow it to happen. But if she did not acquiesce to the terms of the letter, she brought trouble down on the heads of those she loved most.

  Can they overcome the threat her father had sent her from the grave? Or will Samantha and Warwick's destiny be unfulfilled?

  From USA Today Bestseller Wendy Vella comes an exciting Regency series about legend, love and destiny, with a hint of magic.

  The Sinclair & Raven Series

  Sensing Danger

  Seeing Danger

  Touched By Danger

  Scent of Danger

  Vision Of Danger

  Tempting Danger

  Seductive Danger

  Guarding Danger

  Courting Danger

  Defending Danger

  Detecting Danger

  Check out the Sinclair & Raven family tree on my website. www.wendyvella.com/sinclairandravenfamilytree

  Sign up for my email newsletter and never miss a new release!

  www.wendyvella.com/newsletter

  This book is for all the readers who loved this series!

  Originally, I planned to only write three books, but you all fell in love with these crazy, amazing families.

  Thank you xx

  PROLOGUE

  It is said that when lowly Baron Sinclair saved the powerful Duke of Raven from certain death in 1335 by single-handedly killing the three men who attacked his carriage, King Edward III was grateful. Raven was a wise and sage counsel he had no wish to lose, therefore, he rewarded Sinclair with the land that sat at the base of Raven Mountain. Having shown himself capable of the duty, Baron Sinclair was now, in the eyes of the King, to be the official protector of the Ravens.

  Over the years the tale has changed and grown as many do. There were rumors of strange occurrences when a Sinclair saved a Raven in the years that followed. Unexplained occurrences that caused many to wonder what it was that the Sinclairs were hiding, but one thing that never changed was their unwavering duty in the task King Edward III had bestowed upon them.

  To honor and protect the Raven family was the Sinclair family creed.

  CHAPTER ONE

  You collect Samantha and then bring her home to us, Warwick. With so many family members unwell, you are the only one fit to leave.

  Warwick Sinclair stood watching the ship roll from side to side in the swirling seas, remembering the words that had sent him here.

  Samantha’s brother, James, Duke of Raven had asked this of him. He was a man Warwick loved and respected, so he’d agreed, as the request had sounded simple enough. However, the tension inside him had been steadily climbing since he’d reached the port where she was due to arrive, telling him something was about to happen.

  He’d left behind his family, all bedridden by some odd illness sweeping through their ranks. Not deadly, but enough so they could not travel for a few days. Days that would have been spent travelling to meet Samantha when she arrived by boat from Ireland.

  Was it something they’d eaten?

  So, he’d come to Wales on business, and then on to collect her. Apparently, there was nothing amiss with him, a single man who was not a blood relative, picking up an unwed woman he’d known since he was a small child.

  “Because she’s like a sister to you,” he reminded himself.

  She’d been gone a year, pursuing her love of painting. A year that had felt like six to him. He’d missed her with a deep ache.

  A foul taste filled his mouth. Warwick had thought this tension inside him was simply because he was to see Samantha again, but it was more than that. This was the feeling he got when one of his family were in danger. When someone he cared for deeply was hurting. Acid swirled in his belly, and his fists were clenched.

  “There will be those on board sick and injured is my guess,” the man beside him said. “Last week two died.”

  “What?” He dragged his eyes from the vessel struggling to stay upright and looked at him. Tall, dressed in a thick coat, his hat was pulled low, but there was no disguising the craggy features of a man who’d spent a life outdoors or on the sea.

  “We’ve been saying it for years, but no one is listening.”

  “What have you been saying?” Warwick gritted the words out as he burrowed deeper into his greatcoat. His hat, he’d left in the carriage as the winds kept knocking it from his head.

  “That they load ’em on board like cattle and in doing so endanger the crossing. The ships can’t handle that many people and especially not in these conditions.”

  Warwick glanced at the ship Samantha was on again. A small part of him had looked forward to the reprieve her leaving would give him. He and Samantha had been arguing with each other since they’d first met. There was also that little something else he’d nudged to the back of his head he felt when she was close. An itch he couldn’t quite reach.

  He hadn’t felt like it was a reprieve having her gone. Her departure had been like a gnawing toothache, and he’d missed her desperately. He’d worried about her. Samantha was vulnerable, far too kindhearted, and could have fallen prey to any scoundrel in need of money. Warwick had said as much to anyone in their families who would listen. No one had, and she’d gone. He’d then tried and failed to dismiss her from his head.

  “That’s not good.”

  “What’s not good?” he asked the man.

  “That man there, he’s waving his hands.”

  Warwick looked, squinting against the sting of salt as the wind whipped the water into white caps. There was indeed a man standing on the bow waving his hands. The gesture seemed frantic to Warwick. His unease grew.

  “They’ve injuries on board or worse. Or the boat is in trouble.”

  “Well,” Warwick snapped, “which is it?”

  The man shrugged. “Can’t rightly say, but seeing the weather and the seas, the crossing cannot have been easy.”

  Warwick didn’t ask what the “worse” was, he had a fair idea. But it wouldn’t be her. Not Samantha. She would be safe and here with him soon. He felt the tension climb, which told him all was not right with her but not death. She would not die and leave him, them, he amended quickly. He’d know if that had happened. His pain would have been crippling.

  Turning from the man, he pulled out his earplugs. Warwick and his family were gifted with heightened senses. Perhaps gift was a strong word, as often they were just bloody annoying, but sometimes, like now, they were useful. His was the heightened sense of hearing. He could hear great distances, a curse and a blessing. The blessing part was when he wanted to listen in on conversations his siblings were having that they had no wish for him to overhear.

  Tucking the earplugs of wax into his jacket pocket, he listened. Blocking out the noise around him, he tried to hear the voices on the approaching vessel. It was being buffeted by both sea and wind,
but he heard snatches.

  Screaming, he thought, going cold. Women were screaming, and men were yelling. God’s blood, what was going on on that boat? Where were Samantha and her maid? He almost hoped they’d missed the crossing.

  “I fear they could be injured, Archie.” Warwick looked at his valet, footman, and general all-around servant. In fact, the only one he had in his new lodgings. He’d stolen him from his eldest brother’s household.

  “It looks a nasty crossing, sir.”

  Archie, like Warwick, had his eyes on the approaching vessel.

  “Do you know Lady Samantha’s maid, Archie?”

  “I do. Penny, sir.”

  “If they are injured or separated, you find her, and I will find Lady Samantha,” Warwick said.

  Archie nodded, grim faced.

  The cries grew louder, but he could not decipher Samantha’s among them, which was entirely reasonable as so many were on board, but not being able to identify her voice simply hiked his tensions.

  “I hope the doctor is ready,” the man to his right said. “This is going to be right nasty.”

  Warwick felt ice slither down his spine. In London, there was Lilly. She could heal with just a touch. But she was three days away if Samantha needed her.

  The boat seemed to limp into the dock and then bumped into the end. Men sprang to take the ropes and secure it to the moorings.

  Warwick started moving to where the gangway was being lowered. He watched the anxious faces above him on the deck, peering down from the railing. None were Samantha. As soon as the men had secured the gangway, he brushed past them and began to climb with Archie on his heels.

  “Hey! You have to wait. They need to come down!”

  Warwick ignored the warning and reached the top. The gate was still closed, and passengers were trying to get it open. A huge press of bodies attempting to escape the hell they had just endured. Warwick climbed over, pushing people aside. They were covered in the effects of the hazardous trip and smelt rank. Some wept, others were supported by people. He kept moving through them, listening, looking. So far, he had not heard her voice.

  Something was very wrong. The bitter taste in his mouth told him that as did the tension in his back.

  “Samantha!” He called her name above the heads of the passengers. No reply was forthcoming. He filtered through sounds as he moved. It was slow going, working his way through the thick mass of sick and scared humanity, but he did it. Had to do it for her. Searching for anything that would alert him as to where she was.

  “Archie?”

  “Here, sir, at your back!”

  He kept moving through the people, eyes going left and right. She had to be here somewhere. Unless she had not made the trip? That was a possibility, and yet the anxiety he was feeling told him she was here on this boat somewhere. Warwick walked toward the stern.

  Don’t let her be hurt.

  It was then he heard her voice. She was calling for help. He moved as quickly as he could in her direction and found her huddling with another. People were buffeting them from all sides. Knocking into them, stepping over them.

  “Back away!” he roared, dropping down beside her. Warwick wrapped his arms around her and the other woman. “Samantha.” His words sounded hoarse. “It’s me, Warwick.” He spoke into her hair. “I have you now, sweetheart.”

  “W-Warwick?”

  Lifting his head, he found her face inches from his. Eyes red from crying, her hair a mess, face pale. She’d never looked more beautiful to him. It was instinct that had him placing a soft, gentle kiss on her lips.

  “It’s all right now, I have you.”

  She shuddered and then pressed her face into his neck. She was ice-cold.

  “My m-maid, P-Penny is injured, I c-cannot leave her.”

  “Archie, take Penny,” Warwick said, rising with her in his arms. “My man will care for your maid, Samantha.”

  His words had her wrapping her arms around his neck and clutching him tight as if seeking his warmth. Seeking his protection. She’d never reached for him like this before. It unsettled and humbled him at the same time.

  “I-I, h-how are you here?”

  “Sssh, we will talk soon. For now, we need to get off this boat and to get you warm.”

  She was like a block of ice. Her teeth chattered, and her entire body shook. She was slight in his arms. Always had been. Willowy and small. She wasn’t like others in his family with their big personalities. But she was one of the happiest, most optimistic people he’d ever encountered. It had often terrified him that she walked about London with that attitude, which could easily see her taken advantage of.

  She was like a chick leaving the nest for the first time every damn day she left

  her brother’s town house.

  “W-w-w—”

  “Samantha, shut up.”

  Her teeth snapped together, and he guessed the only reason she was not taking him to task for his words was because she could not form any. Warwick did not want to think about how she would have gotten off this boat if he had not arrived. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Archie was on his heels, his arms full of Penny, the maid.

  Warwick was good-natured for the most part and treated people as he wished them to treat him, but fear had him cleaving a path through the bodies with ruthless determination. He wanted her off this vessel and safe. Yes, other passengers were in the same situation as Samantha and her maid, but he didn’t care. He cared about her.

  Making his way back to the gangway, Warwick followed the other passengers down.

  “Move!”

  “St-stop, yelling.”

  Her ice-cold nose was pressed into his neck, and her arms clung to him.

  “I’ll yell if I bloody want to,” he muttered. Fear turned Warwick mean, it always had. He hated when those he cared for were vulnerable or in pain. Hated if they were scared or hurting. He would move an entire city brick by brick if he could alleviate their suffering.

  When finally they reached the bottom, he kept walking until he saw Bids, his family’s driver. Now a great deal older than when Warwick first met him, he was still sharp eyed and wiry and used when they needed another set of hands and eyes. Entrusted and almost part of the family, he watched over them and always had, sometimes a little too zealously.

  “Oh, dear!” He was standing on his perch, watching them walk toward him. “Is Lady Samantha all right, sir?”

  “No. We need to get her to somewhere warm, Bids. A tavern or anything that looks clean and dry.”

  “At once, sir.” Bids sat as Archie hurried up behind Warwick, carrying Penny.

  “Her maid is also hurt,” Warwick added.

  “The luggage, sir?”

  He’d forgotten about that.

  “Where is your luggage, Samantha?”

  “N-near us.”

  Which Warwick took to mean, close to where he’d found them. Looking around him he saw three boys. He waved them closer.

  “How many pieces?” he whispered in Samantha’s ear.

  “Th-three.”

  “Do they have James’s crest on them?”

  She nodded. “P-Penny’s is with them.”

  He gave the boys instruction and money and told them more would be forthcoming if they collected the luggage with the Duke of Raven’s crest on it. After explaining what that looked like, he and Archie climbed inside the carriage with their burdens. The door was shut hard enough that it rocked on its springs.