Helen Dickson (19 page)

From the doorway Laura met his gaze, knowing he feared for their safety. ‘We won’t.’ She turned to go.

‘Laura.’

She paused and looked at him once more. His expression was solemn. ‘What?’

‘You are special.’

She smiled. ‘Thank you. You’ll have to work hard to convince me.’

‘I’ll do my best.’

‘I know you will.’

C
aroline accosted Laura in the hall on her way to the kitchen. ‘It’s such a lovely day—do let’s go out, Laura,’ she begged. ‘It’s cold but bracing. We could wrap up well. Some air will do you good, too, after being cooped up in a sick-room for days. Perhaps we could walk over the coastal path towards the village.’

Laura stared at her incredulously, shaking her head as though the suggestion was beyond belief. ‘Certainly not, Caroline,’ she said most strenuously. ‘For your own good it’s imperative that you’re not seen out and about. To walk to the village would be reckless and highly irresponsible.’

‘Oh, please, Laura,’ Caroline begged. ‘Just a short walk along the cliff, then, if you consider the village is out of the question. I’ll attach a veil to my bonnet, then if we do meet anyone they won’t see my face.’

Laura sighed, unable to withstand the pleading in Caroline’s eyes. ‘Well, I don’t suppose there would be any harm in walking just a little way—if you cover your face. But what about Louis?’

‘Do you think Susan would look after him? He always has a nap at this time so I doubt he’ll be any trouble.’

‘I’m sure Susan would love to look after him. She positively dotes on him, as well you know.’

‘Good. That’s settled, then.’

Arm in arm, they set off along the cliff path towards Roslyn village, where it nestled around the small harbour. There wasn’t a soul in sight, and, as they strode along, for the first time in days Laura felt a lightening of the spirit. Despite being a little apprehensive that someone might see Caroline and recognise her—although with the veil covering her face it was highly unlikely—she was glad that she’d allowed her to persuade her to leave the house, if just for a short while.

It was good to breathe the salt-laden air, to see the waves breaking against the shore. The day was cold but the sun was shining out of a clear blue sky. She lifted her face to the wind blowing off the sea, thinking of her short time with Lucas earlier, his kiss and the things he had said, and the feelings overflowing inside her threatened to burst her heart and mind and drown her in sweetness.

They were high up, with fine views of the coastline, and inland the undulating hills, scattered with sheep and overspread with woods, gave way to high moor where wild ponies galloped free.

Delighting in her new-found freedom, Caroline, her face alight with happiness, chatted and laughed a good deal. In reckless abandon and to Laura’s horror, she removed her bonnet to feel the wind blow through her hair, skipping ahead.

‘Oh, Laura, that’s better. Much as I am grateful to you and Lucas for letting Louis and me stay at the manor, sometimes I think I’ll go mad with being confined.’

They paused, having almost reached the end of the cliff-top path. From here it fell in a gentle sweep to the village below.

‘I agree, it feels good to be away from the house. But I think we’ve walked far enough and should turn back.’

Caroline was reluctant. ‘Do let’s go just a little further. See,’ she enthused, pointing to the colourful booths and
stalls that had been set up in the tiny square near to the harbour, ‘it’s market day. Do let’s go and take a look.’

Laura frowned, uneasy at being so far away from the manor. ‘I really don’t think we ought, Caroline. Lucas particularly told me not to venture too far.’

‘But what harm can possibly befall us in broad daylight?’ Caroline protested. ‘I know Lucas is worried that whoever it was who tried to kill him might try again, but his assailant’s grievance is with him, not us. See, I’ll put my bonnet back on and promise to keep my face covered at all times.’

After further argument Laura reluctantly relented. Nevertheless, her feeling of unease refused to go away as she walked down the hill, and she was impatient to return home.

The village was set within the sheltered folds of the lower slopes. They strolled along the quay where fishermen sat mending their nets in the October sun, lazily smoking their clay pipes, giving no evidence to strangers of Roslyn’s association with the local smuggling trade. The coastline here was well suited, with miles of it inaccessible and inhospitable. These fishermen, with their boats ideally equipped for running cargoes, were adept at handling their craft in small coves and inlets, with an essential, intimate knowledge of the coast.

The buildings that clustered round Roslyn’s small harbour were a mixture of timber and stone. The streets and passageways were narrow and cobbled, dark yet pleasantly cool on summer days. After their quiet walk along the coastal path the two young women were plunged into what seemed to them a scene of utter confusion. Market day was a day when Roslyn had to contend with an increased number of people, when country folk came to sell their produce. Stalls of freshly caught fish, eggs, cheese and poultry, fruit and vegetables and bric-à-brac were set out. A variety of
traders shouting about their wares had to compete with the screeching of sea birds swooping high above their heads.

Looking for something she could buy to take back for Louis, full of eager anticipation, Caroline wandered off to inspect a stall selling an interesting and colourful assortment of trinkets. Laura waited for her on the edge of the throng, bestowing friendly greetings on those she recognised, of whom there were many.

As the minutes ticked by, with growing impatience she kept glancing at Caroline hovering over the stall, wishing she would hurry up and buy something so they could return home. She moved aside to let a group of fishermen coming out of the Ship Inn pass by, her attention caught by a man in their midst who was fashionably dressed. He wore a frock coat in a dark shade of green, under which a white neckcloth gleamed. His head was bent and a tricorn hat hid his features, yet there was something familiar about him. Her mouth ran dry and fear began to insinuate itself in her heart when he lifted his head and looked straight at her. It was Edward.

Laura saw him hesitate for a moment, squinting his eyes against the sun’s glare, and then he smiled thinly, immediate interest springing to his eyes as he became aware of her. When she was on the point of turning away, he moved quickly and stepped into her path. That was typical of him. Anticipating her desire not to speak to him, he was determined to flout it. She stood stock-still, fixing him with a dispassionate stare as she waited for him to speak.

‘Laura,’ he said by way of greeting, inclining his head slightly. ‘Are you trying to ignore me after all we meant to each other?’

With cool disdain her chin lifted. ‘It is something which I am trying hard to forget.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that. I hoped you and I could still be friends.’

‘I don’t think so, Edward. Nothing on earth would induce me to become your friend.’

For a second a speculative gleam touched his glacial blue eyes, as though he wondered what she was doing in the village. ‘I am glad to see how well you look.’

‘I am.’

‘And your husband? Rumour has it he’s indisposed—snatched from the jaws of death, I hear.’

‘He was—for a while. Now he’s perfectly well.’

He nodded coolly. ‘I confess to being a little jealous of Lucas. I am extremely fond of you, Laura, and I miss you. I can’t get you out of my mind.’

‘Really?’ she replied coldly. ‘I cannot say the same about you. Lucas knows you better than I do. It’s a pity I didn’t know you half as well before I became involved with you. If you would be kind enough to step aside now, I will leave. I don’t want to listen to any more.’

‘I’m afraid you will have to.’ There was a hint of menace in his lowered voice and the gleam in his eyes. ‘Your husband knows I am not a very nice man when crossed. It is a lesson you should learn, too,’ he said with the devastating candour Laura found so repellent.

She looked at him directly. There were secrets in his eyes. ‘I already know what you are.’

‘But I can still be an attractive man.’ His eyes were mocking and lustful.

‘You are no longer attractive to me.’

‘Have a care, Laura. I can also be a vindictive man.’

‘I know that, too. Now please move out of my way. You are wasting my time.’

‘There was a time when you used to think being with me was time well spent,’ he persisted.

‘No, Edward. Not any more.’

‘I could make you change your mind.’ His voice was silky, with a hidden threat. ‘What if your husband was to
meet with another—accident?’ he said, softly enunciating the last word.

Laura went cold with fear, but didn’t show it. She knew Edward was not speaking idly. ‘Accident? What you speak of is murder.’

He shrugged nonchalantly. ‘Whatever. I do hope you don’t think I tried to kill him—out of jealousy, perhaps?’

‘If you did—and I for one do not believe you are blameless—both you and I know jealousy would not have been the reason,’ Laura said, a world of contempt in her voice.

‘True,’ he said. ‘But one way or another I will see him dead.’

Laura stared at him. The feeling, the nightmare vision of Lucas lying at the bottom of the creek was unbearable, and she was consumed by a fire of such fierce hatred for this man who looked her in the eyes and calmly told her he had tried to kill her husband and would try again. She was engulfed in a white-hot, searing heat that blotted out everything but his evil face—surely the face of the devil. So consuming were her emotions that she wanted to reach out and rake her nails down his flesh, to claw out those piercing, ice-cold, sneering eyes. Breathing deeply, she tried to control her shaking hands beneath the folds of her cloak.

‘No one has a greater motive than you to kill Lucas. He knows that. He knows all too well your deviousness. While ever he resides at Roslyn Manor, while ever he exists, you will see him as a threat to you. But should anything happen to him, then you will have the full force of the law down on you.’

Edward’s eyes narrowed and his nose became pinched as he began to show the first signs of anger. He studied her a moment, and then he said smoothly, ‘Have a care what you accuse me of, Laura.’

‘Why? I was merely stating the obvious. The truth will come out in the end.’

‘Think on what I have said. If your husband does meet
with an accident, you will not be in a very secure position and will be in need of friends.’

‘You would do well to think on your own position, Edward,’ she scoffed meaningfully, ‘instead of mine. To carry on as you are is tantamount to putting a rope round your neck.’

His sudden laugh was low and derisive. ‘I don’t think so. I am very much alive and intend to remain so.’

When Laura looked away and tried to brush past him, she found her arm firmly seized. ‘Come, Laura. Let us finish our discussion elsewhere. This is too public a place. I have my carriage and my man waiting by the harbour. I will take you home, and we may have a bit of privacy on the way.’

Laura jerked her arm from his grasp and fixed him with a cold blue glare. ‘You presume too much, Edward. I do not offer my company to men of your ilk. Now stand out of my way before I scream.’

Edward had no time to reply, for in the next instant a young woman appeared beside Laura, a young woman with flowing fair hair beneath a bonnet of apple-green silk and Chantilly lace covering her face. In her hand she carried a small colourful ball and a woollen baby jacket. At that moment a strong breeze blowing in from the sea caught the veil and lifted it over the bonnet’s brim, revealing a pair of dark oval eyes and a laughing face. Hastily the young woman pulled it down to cover her face once more, but not in time.

Too late, Laura remembered what Lucas had told her about Edward being an acquaintance of Jean de Mournier, and she realised what would happen if Edward recognised her. There was a moment of shock as Laura turned to Caroline, and through the veil Caroline noted her discomfiture.

Recovering from his own surprise, Edward raised his hand to doff his hat, while his clear blue eyes assessed the young woman with a good deal of interest. Over the years
he had developed a sharp memory for faces, and this was one he had recognised immediately. It also solved the mystery as to the identity of the person who had landed in the cove that night, which had puzzled him ever since. If he had thought decisive action was necessary to control the situation—to rid himself of Lucas Mawgan—it had just been presented to him in the most welcome and surprising manner. An almost sneering smile stretched his lips.

‘Madame,’
he said lightly. ‘Permit me to pay my respects and to offer my condolences.’

Caroline gazed at him in confusion, feeling his eyes burning her face through the concealing lace. ‘Why—sir, I cannot imagine what you mean.’

‘No? You are the Comtesse de Mournier—daughter of the late Lady Weston and the widow of Comte Anton de Mournier, are you not? I recall seeing you in London and I never forget a face—particularly not when one is as pretty as yours, as the breeze just now revealed to me. I offer my heartfelt sympathy for your tragic double loss.’

Caroline paled visibly, clutching the tiny ball with both hands. All the terrors that had made her flee France returned. It was as if some obscure, unspecified menace had just reared up to threaten her once more. ‘And you are, sir?’ she whispered, her throat tight.

‘Sir Edward Carlyle—at your service,’ he offered, inclining his head with gallant mockery.

Laura read the evil intent on Edward’s face but, her eyes as hard as stone, the steadiness of her gaze did not falter. ‘Excuse us, Edward. It’s getting cold and we must return to the manor.’

‘Of course, and I will not detain you, but perhaps the countess would like news of her husband’s cousin, Jean,’ he murmured smoothly, purposefully, smiling with the lazy grace of a cat, while watching the countess’s face go whiter still, not without some private satisfaction.

‘It may interest you to know that I met up with him
recently at Le Havre when I happened to be there on personal business. Naturally he is devastated about what happened to Anton, and he is most anxious for news of your whereabouts—and your son’s,’ he said, which sounded like a casual afterthought, but Laura knew he was making a point, and the tragic look on Caroline’s face told Edward it had been driven home with the desired effect. ‘When I see him I shall be able to set his mind at rest.’