"We must meet in darkness, by the light of the embers..."
c. 1850, England. Young heiress Eleanor Godfrey is swept into high society after the death of her businessmen father. She inherits his prosperous tobacco company, and is thrilled by her newfo...
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They walked arm-in-arm through the dark rainy streets.
Upon leaving the decrepit building, Rafe had paid the scowling young woman upstairs an overly generous amount of money for a frayed but thick woollen shawl, so that Eleanor could shield herself from the rain. She still felt the dizzying effects of the opium, so he kept her tucked closely to his warm side to prevent her from stumbling around.
"Why didn't you bring your carriage?" She asked woozily, blinking up at him through the droplets on her eyelashes.
Rafe stared ahead. "Bringing such a luxury into these parts would surely draw unwanted attention, and cause much scandal and speculation as to what sinful affairs a young lady like yourself was involved in."
An angry clap of thunder rumbled in the sky.
"I would never be involved in this if it wasn't for you and your wretched brother!"
"Do you really believe that? Do you forget that your father willingly allowed Emberlight Enterprises to smuggle within his company?"
Her lip trembled. "No, of course I haven't."
They walked in silence for a while. The rain was now accompanied by occasional bellows of thunder and dazzling flashes of lightening upon the ground.
"Why Emberlight? Why that name?"
"We had to make it vague, anonymous. It would be foolish to put our own surname in the title." He looked over at her. "In all honesty, I'd rather shut it all down. God knows I've made enough money to retire."
Eleanor was shocked at the frankness of his comment. "Well, why haven't you?"
He gave her a pointed look.
"Oh. James."
Rafe nodded. "He wants to continue the business no matter what. He refuses to even hear my thoughts on it. Truth be told, I think he only cares about keeping his own supply of opium full."
Eleanor thought back to her handful of encounters with James. His charm, his wit, dashing smiles. She'd been dazzled by it all initially, though eventually she'd seen that the facade was always blighted with an aura of wickedness, a gut feeling that his intentions were far more sinister than she could imagine.
"Those long scars on his neck. How did he get them?"
Rafe drew a long breath. "Last year we travelled to China to set up some new trading links for the enterprise. James angered the local business dealer by tricking him into trading more opium than they'd agreed upon. He conned him out of tens of thousands worth of stock. On our return to Europe, our train stopped in a quiet town in Turkey to refuel, and we stepped out to look at the desert for a while. Next thing I knew, we were cornered by a gang of five Chinese men, who worked for the wronged business dealer. They kidnapped us and took us to some remote spot where they beat us badly. Then they demanded their leader's stock back. I relented immediately, so they went easy on me. But James..." He shook his head bitterly, "the bugger wouldn't back down. He was already dazed on opium. So they made a noose and hung him up."
