Bought for Revenge (17 page)

‘Miss Havenham was in a hurry to get away,’ he observed. ‘I do hope she has not changed her mind about driving out with me tomorrow. Is that it, Lucas, did she give you a message for me?’

‘No, nothing like that,’ Lucas responded quickly. ‘I suppose you want to borrow my curricle for your drive tomorrow?’

‘Well, yes, Cos, since I have no vehicle of my own. You told me you would be working at the manor all day tomorrow, so I thought you wouldn’t mind?’

‘Of course not. Rudd shall harness up the greys for you.’

‘Not your matched bays?’

‘I allow no one to drive the bays but me.’ He saw his cousin was inclined to argue and said
curtly, ‘It is the greys or nothing, Hugh. Take it or leave it.’

His cousin grinned. ‘Oh, very well, damn you! I don’t suppose anyone in this out-of-the-way place can tell the difference between the two teams.’

Annabelle can
, thought Lucas.
She saw at a glance that the bays were quality
. He became aware of Hugh’s arm, linked companionably through his own and another thought quickly followed:
I hope she is as good a judge of men
.

It rained heavily during the night and Annabelle wondered if Captain Duggan might be obliged to call off their proposed drive. She almost hoped he would, but at the appointed time a carriage drew up outside Croft Cottage, pulled by a pair of beautiful high-stepping greys. Stifling a sigh, she put on her bonnet and went outside.

‘Good day to you, Miss Havenham. My cousin has loaned us the use of his curricle, you see, so we shall look very smart, tooling around the countryside, eh?’

Annabelle allowed him to hand her into the vehicle, her eyes flicking briefly to the empty rumble seat. She wondered if she should refuse to accompany him without a servant, but quickly dismissed the idea. This was Stanton. She had
grown up here and was quite in the habit of going out alone. Pride would not allow her to consider that her reduced circumstances might make her more vulnerable.

‘I thought we might take a drive to Morwood,’ Captain Duggan continued. ‘We can see what progress my cousin is making with the park there, what do you say to that, Miss Havenham?’

Belle forced herself to smile. She could only hope they would not see Lucas while they were there.

Captain Duggan set off down the High Street at a pace that had Annabelle clutching at the side of the curricle. She said nothing, but could not help comparing his erratic driving very unfavourably with that of his cousin and was only thankful that he did not have the bays harnessed to the centre pole.

‘I did think at first that we could drive around the park at Oakenroyd,’ remarked the captain as he hauled the team sharply around a bend. ‘But you will be very familiar with that, and it won’t be long before you are back there as mistress, will it?’ He laughed. ‘Oh, you need not look so surprised, ma’am, my cousin has no secrets from me. He told me the other day that he was giving Oakenroyd back to your father.’

‘Yes, he has been most generous.’

‘Aye, uncommonly so, although perhaps he hopes to gain your favour by this gesture.’

‘I do not think so.’

‘Really?’

Belle struggled to maintain her composure, but after a moment she managed to reply coolly, ‘Really. My father is opposed to any alliance with Mr Blackstone.’

‘Well, that is dashed good news, if you don’t mind my saying so.’ Belle stiffened, but he continued, quite unabashed, ‘Lucas may be the richest fellow in Stanton, but I know his manners can be a little rough, and after what he did to your father I can understand Havenham setting his face against him—’

‘Ah, we have arrived at Morwood,’ she interrupted him, anxious to change the subject. ‘I haven’t seen the park for some weeks, how different it looks.’

‘Aye, it always looks its best in the autumn.’ He slowed the curricle and turned into the park.

Belle had forgotten how beautiful the park could be, with the leaves turning to gold upon the trees. In the distance was the manor, still surrounded by scaffolding and tiny figures of the men moving around it. One of them might well be Lucas.

‘I hope Mr Blackstone will not object to our driving here.’

‘Oh, I am sure he won’t,’ replied the captain cheerfully. ‘I am his heir, after all. I was not planning to drive up to the house, unless you wish to do so, Miss Havenham?’

‘No, no, not at all.’

‘Good. It’s little more than a building site at the moment, so there is nothing of interest there. We’ll tool around the park for a while, then see what progress has been made on the woodland carriageways.’

Driving around the park with captain Duggan was a very different experience to Belle’s previous visits in Lucas’s company. The captain was interested in the changes only as far as they improved the value of the estate, and despite his constant references to the happy times he had spent at Morwood, Belle was left with the impression that he saw the house and its grounds as a commodity and not a home. When they drove down to the lake his comments were fixed upon the value of the timber rather than the beauty of their surroundings. Annabelle decided that if he was trying to impress her he had failed miserably. She did not like the way he leaned against her when he had some point to make, nor his constant allusions to his ‘inheritance’. She began to wish she had not accepted his invitation and she was quite relieved when it was time to turn for home.

‘Well, that was very pleasant,’ he declared as they drew up outside Croft Cottage. ‘Shall we do this again, Miss Havenham?’

She jumped nimbly down before making her reply. ‘I think not, Captain.’ She smiled and tried to soften her response. ‘Papa and I have a great deal to do over the next few weeks and I really will not have time for pleasure jaunts. But thank you, sir, for your time today.’

Captain Duggan did not look best pleased with his dismissal, but Belle could not help that. She hurried inside, watching from the sitting-room window as he drove away.

‘Ah, Belle, my love.’ Her father came in. ‘Did I leave my book in here? I was reading Horace…’ He smiled absently at her. ‘Have you been out, my dear?’

‘Yes, Papa. I told you, Captain Duggan invited me to drive out with him today.’

‘Did he? How kind of him. Did you enjoy it?’

‘It was very pleasant,’ she replied cautiously. ‘We drove around the park at Morwood. I wish you could have seen it, Papa, the trees are looking magnificent with their leaves all amber and gold.’

‘Ah, yes, of course.’ For a moment he looked wistful. ‘And the house, how does that go on?’

She concentrated upon removing her bonnet.

‘I do not know, we did not go there.’ She added brightly, ‘Captain Duggan sends his regards, Papa. He could not stop, since he had no groom with him to hold the horses.’

‘How thoughtful of him.’ He smiled. ‘Captain Duggan is Very different from his cousin, is he not?’

‘Yes, Papa,’ she said. ‘Very different.’

He barely heard her for he had spotted his book lying on a chair. Murmuring to himself, he retrieved it and made his way back to his study. Belle smiled. He would shut himself away and lose himself in his books again, forgetting all about the real world for a little while. She wished she could do the same.

‘There’s someone in the park, Mr Blackstone.’

Lucas was on the top platform of the scaffolding with one of the masons when Elias Greenwood called up to him. He followed the man’s outstretched finger. There was no mistaking his curricle and the greys that pulled it. Hugh was driving Annabelle around the park. The stab of jealousy was like a physical pain in his chest.

No one shall have her if I cannot!

He turned away, fighting against the words that rang in his head. He was not that unreasonable. He was
not
his father.

He said at last, surprised at the steadiness of
his voice, ‘It’s Captain Duggan and Miss Havenham.’

‘Ah. Well, they’re not coming this way. Looks like he is driving her down to the lake, making use of the path you’ve opened up there.’

‘Yes.’ He forced himself to take another look and was in time to see the curricle disappearing into the trees.

I did it for her
, he told himself.
Why shouldn’t she enjoy it, even if it is not with me?

Elias was looking up at him, a speculative look in his eye. Lucas scowled at him.

‘Well?’ he barked. ‘What are you waiting for? Get back to work!’

Confound it, he should not take his bad mood out on his workers. He gave his attention to the mason again, but made a mental vow that he would catch up with Greenwood before the end of the day and make sure all was well with him.

L
ucas delayed his return to Oakenroyd until late in the day and arrived back to learn from Rudd that his cousin had not yet come in. Knowing Hugh, Lucas was pretty sure that he would be gambling at the Red Lion, but a tiny worm of jealousy gnawed at him, suggesting that he might be dining at Croft Cottage. When Lucas retired Hugh had still not returned, so he would not discover the truth until the next morning.

Being a Sunday Lucas did not rise early to go to Morwood and instead joined his cousin at the breakfast table.

‘How did you like my greys?’ He asked the question casually as he took his seat.

‘An excellent pair and very well matched,’ returned
Hugh, grinning at him. ‘I’d expect nothing less of cattle from your stable, Cos!’

‘You certainly kept them out long enough.’

‘After I dropped Miss Havenham I met up with friends and stopped to dine with them in Stanton—at the Red Lion, so your team was perfectly safe in the stables.’

‘I never doubted you would look after them.’ Lucas poured himself a cup of coffee. ‘And did Miss Havenham enjoy the drive?’

There was a heartbeat’s hesitation before Hugh answered, ‘Why, yes, of course. When are you off to London?’

The change of subject was very sudden. Lucas had no idea whether that was a good sign or bad. He replied coolly, ‘At the end of the week. I have much to arrange before I go.’

‘You haven’t changed your mind?’ Hugh looked around to check that the servants had quit the room. ‘About handing over Oakenroyd?’

‘No. I expect everything to be settled by the end of the month.’ He flicked a glance at his cousin. ‘If you intend to stay on in Stanton, then you will have to take a room at the Red Lion.’

‘That would be no hardship, in fact it would be more convenient for me, but I think you are fool.’

‘What you think is irrelevant.’

Hugh’s face darkened. ‘I am all the family you have now, so it is very relevant!’

‘Hell and confound it, Hugh, it was talking to you that convinced me my father—that convinced me I had been blaming the wrong man all these years!’

‘Yes, that’s all very well, but it doesn’t—’

Lucas brought his fist down on the table, making the cups rattle in their saucers.

‘I stole his house from him, Hugh!’ Guilt twisted his gut. ‘I even planned to take his daughter. Returning Oakenroyd to Samuel Havenham is the least I can do.’ He frowned at his cousin. ‘Are you afraid there will be nothing left for you?’

‘No, no, of course not, but—’

‘You need not worry, there is plenty in the funds, and once I have sold the manor—’

‘What? You are going to—to
sell
Morwood?’

Lucas raised his eyes to meet his cousin’s shocked gaze. ‘Yes. It was foolish to think I could come back. I am going to sell it as soon as it is finished. Then I shall be done with this place for ever.’

‘But—but you can’t,’ blustered Hugh. ‘It is your home, and mine!’

Lucas raised his brows. ‘You were an occasional visitor, Cousin, nothing more.’ He rose. ‘Now, if you will excuse me, I have work to do.’

The short November day was drawing to a close. Belle had accompanied her father to the
church that morning, but even her prayers and silent reflection in that holy place brought her no relief from the dull ache of despair.

It will pass
, she told herself as she sat by the window of Croft Cottage, her reading book open in her lap.
This misery cannot last
.

She tried to think of the future. If Lucas was as good as his word then they would shortly be returning to Oakenroyd. Her father was quietly optimistic, and despite all that had happened Belle did not doubt that Lucas intended to make reparation for the harm he had done, but nothing could turn back the clock. Nothing could make her forget him or repair the damage he had done to her heart.

Her father was dozing by the fire. Belle tried to concentrate on her book, but the silence pressed around her. She felt the confines of the small cottage more acutely than ever before. Suddenly she wanted to get away and not to the tiny bedroom upstairs. She glanced out of the window. It was overcast, but the light should last for a little while yet. She would go out.

She dropped a kiss upon her father’s brow and told him of her intention, but received no more than a sleepy response. He did not even insist that she should take Abel with her, for which she was grateful. She wanted to be alone with her thoughts. She ran upstairs to collect her cloak,
then slipped out of the door. Throwing her hood over her curls, she held the folds of the cloak closely about her to keep out the chill wind as she set off in the direction of the graveyard.

The evening divine service had finished and the church stood silent and dark, unlike the Red Lion opposite, where welcoming light spilled out from the windows on to the road. As she slipped through the lychgate a sudden gust of wind whispered through the trees and sent a shower of leaves across the graveyard. They danced around her skirts as she made her way to her mother’s grave.

She knelt on the soft earth and stared at the headstone. How she wished her mama—that kind, gentle woman Papa had told her of—could be with her now, to advise, to comfort her. It could not be, of course. She had to be sensible, to be strong for her father, but, oh, how she wished that just for a moment there was someone who could be strong for her.

With a sigh she brushed aside the leaves that had settled around the base of the headstone and picked up the last flowers she had laid there. The withered blooms only added to her unhappiness and she closed her eyes, praying for she knew not what.

‘Belle.’

She heard Lucas call her name, soft as a whisper,
and thought at first she had imagined it, conjuring his voice from her own deep yearning, but she sensed his presence even before she opened her eyes and saw him standing a few yards away. She scrambled to her feet.

‘I saw you from the road,’ he said by way of explanation.

Following the wave of his hand she saw Sultan tethered at the gate. Lucas was coming closer. Belle knew she should turn away, but her feet were rooted to the ground. She fixed her eyes on the brittle stems crumbling in her nervous fingers.

‘These are the last of the summer flowers. When I was at Oakenroyd I picked blooms from the hothouse to lay here during the winter.’

He came up to her, stopping just an arm’s reach away. ‘You will soon be able to do so again, you have my word on that. And you will be able to ride over the moors as you did in the past. Apollo is in the stables, waiting for you. I have not ridden him since that day you ripped up at me. Clegg exercises him, in readiness for your return to Oakenroyd.’

She shivered and pulled her cloak more closely about her. ‘I must leave—’

‘Don’t go.’ He stepped quickly around the grave and blocked her way. Belle kept her gaze lowered, but she was very aware of him standing
in front of her, broad and immovable as a wall. ‘I gave my word to your father that I would stay away from you.’ His voice was low and rough, as if the words were forced out of him. ‘I cannot help myself. I am drawn like a moth to a flame.’

‘I have done nothing to attract you.’

‘You drove out with my cousin yesterday. Are you not using him to make me jealous?’

‘Of course not!’ Belle looked up, surprised. The suggestion would have been laughable if she had not felt so desolate. She raised her chin. ‘I do not play games. Unlike…’

‘Unlike me,’ he finished for her. ‘I deserve your censure. I could only wish—’ He looked up at the darkening sky and exhaled. ‘I rode into Stanton tonight because I wanted to see you one last time, even if it was only your shadow at the window of Croft Cottage.’

‘Lucas, please—’

She put out her hand to stop him and he caught it, drawing it closer until it was pressed against his heart.

‘I am going to London shortly to see my lawyer. I do not intend to return to Stanton, so I will not trouble you again.’

She shook her head. She should have run away when she first saw him. She should certainly not have allowed him to touch her. Now the bonds
that held her to him had wound around her heart again.

‘It is not your presence that troubles me, Lucas.’ She risked looking up. His face was in shadow, but she could feel his pain, for it mirrored her own. She said quietly, ‘When you are away I feel as if a part of me is missing.’

Something between an oath and a sigh escaped him and he pulled her close, holding her so tightly that she was pressed to his chest and could hear his heart thudding against her cheek.

‘You will recover,’ he muttered into her hair. ‘You must.’

‘I do not think I want to.’

‘Foolish talk, my love.’ He let her go, but only so he could take her hand and lead her across the graveyard to the raised tomb that held the remains of his family. ‘Look here,’ he said. ‘This is why I cannot marry you. I am the son of a murderer, Belle.’

‘No,’ she whispered.

‘Yes!’ He pulled her round, his hands gripping her shoulders. ‘I love you to distraction, Belle, but I have my father’s temper—it has already brought you and your father close to ruin. What if it should spill over into violence?’

‘If I am willing to take the risk—’

‘I am not, and neither is your father. Come, it is almost dark and you must go home.’ He read
rebellion in her face and gave her a little shake. ‘You told me once that your father rarely demands your obedience, but when he does you are happy to give it.’

‘You remember that?’

A ghost of a smile flickered across his features. ‘I remember everything you have said to me. But you must go now. Obey your father and stay away from me.’

He began to walk her back towards the gate. Hot tears sprang up, clogging her throat. Despite all that had happened she could not believe he would ever harm her. He stopped at the lychgate.

‘I can go no further with you.’

‘Then, will you kiss me, just once more?’

She was begging him, but she did not care. When he lowered his head to kiss her, Belle returned his embrace with a desperate fervour. Her lips parted, she tangled her tongue with his, desperate to show him just how much she cared. His arms tightened and she felt his body harden. They were spinning into that heady passion in which all sense of time and place is lost. It was not too late, if he would admit how much he loved her, she was sure they could convince Papa to let them marry. If she was willing to take the risk, then why should they not agree? For a moment hope flared in Belle. Then, slowly, resolutely, Lucas drew back. He moved his hands
to her shoulders and gently but firmly pushed her away.

They were standing in the shadow of the lychgate; above them the small roof was a solid square of black against the darkening sky. Lucas sighed.

‘They rest the coffins here before they carry them to the grave. The villagers believe it is bad luck for lovers to stop here on their way to be married. Appropriate, then, that we should take our last leave of each other here.’

The tiny flicker of hope died. Belle’s shoulders sagged. She blinked back her tears as Lucas lifted her hand to his lips for one final salute.

She clung to him, her heart breaking. Summoning every ounce of will power, she forced herself to speak. ‘There is something I must tell you, Lucas. I am not with child.’

The wind filled the silence around them with a sigh.

‘You are sure?’ he said at last.

She nodded. ‘Yes. I am sure.’

‘Then we must be thankful for that.’

Must we?
Annabelle caught her lip between her teeth. Now, when Lucas was gone, she would have nothing of him at all to fill the aching void where her heart had been.

As he disengaged his fingers he said quietly, ‘God be with you, Belle, now and always.’

Hot tears welled up, filling her throat as well as her eyes. Silently, she turned and fled.

Lucas watched her go, not taking his eyes from her until she had hurried unhindered past the lighted windows of the Red Lion and become a mere shadow flitting down the High Street, disappearing at last through the door of the mean little cottage that, because of him, she and her father had been forced to call home. He untied Sultan’s reins and scrambled into the saddle. Well, at least he could rectify that. He could reinstate them at Oakenroyd. They would take their place in Stanton society again and he would disappear from their lives for ever. Belle was still young, in time she would forget him and be happy again. He had to believe that. After a final glance at the now-deserted street he turned and rode back to Oakenroyd.

As the sound of the horse’s hooves faded, a figure broke away from the black shadows of the inn’s arched entrance opposite the church. Hugh Duggan stepped into the street and watched his cousin disappear into the night.

Annabelle slept badly and awoke little refreshed, but there was no time for moping. With December approaching she was obliged to make
the best use of the short winter days. To offset her restlessness she set Abel to chopping wood for the fire while she went off as soon as it was light to fetch more milk and eggs from Oldroyd Farm. There were a few townspeople in the street, including Mrs Kensley, who barely gave her a nod in passing. Since they had moved into Croft Cottage she had tried to patronise Belle and her father. Now Belle acknowledged a small but quite reprehensible glimmer of satisfaction as she imagined the lady’s consternation and displeasure once they were reinstated at Oakenroyd.

If Lucas kept his promise.

The thought occurred only to be dismissed. She had no doubt that Lucas would honour his word to her father and she drew comfort from this, although she drew none from the knowledge that he would also honour his word not to return to Stanton.

Henry Blundell was standing in the doorway of his booksellers as she passed and although he touched his hat as he wished her a good morning, she had to steel herself to ignore his leering stare. she would order her books from London once they were back at Oakenroyd. There was no doubt that she would enjoy being back in her old home and she would have the means to indulge her interests once again, but she knew that
no amount of money would dispel the desperate loneliness she now felt.