Helen Dickson (20 page)

Laura glared at him, knowing it was pointless begging him not to. ‘Goodbye, Edward,’ she ground out, wanting to put as much distance between her and this scoundrel as she possibly could.

He laid a hand on her arm. ‘I would like a private word with you, Laura, before you go.’

She paused and Caroline moved away. ‘Well?’

‘I’ve been thinking. You and I could help each other.’

‘I don’t think so.’ She made to walk on but his hand tightened.

‘Hear me out. Jean will pay dearly to know where Anton’s wife and child are. Naturally as his friend I feel duty-bound to alleviate his concern.’

‘Cease this pretence, Edward. You know perfectly well that it is not out of concern that Jean de Mournier looks for Caroline and Louis. Say what you have to say. What do you want?’

‘If I were a gentleman I would answer—you. But we can discuss that another time. For the present my wants are more practical. There are nights when I have to use Roslyn Cove and cross Mawgan land, which is difficult now your husband is back. Lucas Mawgan is many things, but he is no fool, and nothing would give him greater pleasure than to see me hanged. I have every intention of denying him that pleasure, but he’s too inquisitive, too suspicious, too dangerous, and he has an irritating tendency to ride out at night, often down to the cove.

‘Recently I have been heavily engaged in negotiating a
special cargo—and I’ve made a bargain—so when my friends across the Channel come to visit I want you to distract his attention.’ His smile was mocking as his eyes did an appraisal of her figure. ‘I think you understand my meaning. And, looking as you do, my dear, that shouldn’t prove difficult. I have got it all planned, so listen to me, Laura. Everything depends on you—everything.’

All the colour drained out of Laura’s face. She stared at Edward in disbelief. ‘You are asking me to deceive Lucas? And if I agree, am I to understand you will not inform Jean de Mournier of Caroline’s whereabouts?’

Edward shrugged. ‘It would avoid any unpleasantness.’

‘You devil,’ she uttered through clenched teeth. ‘Despite my husband’s weakness at this present time, don’t you realise that there is nothing to prevent me from informing him of your plans, whereby he would inform the authorities and have both you and the Frenchman apprehended for your misdeeds?’

Edward smiled thinly, unconcerned by her argument. ‘Myself, maybe, if I go ahead with my plans, but Jean de Mournier is a different matter entirely. He is a free agent, and as yet has done nothing to offend the authorities here in England. But do not be mistaken, Laura. He is determined as well as dangerous, and I swear that if you do not comply he will be told where he can find his cousin’s wife and child—and they will suffer an unenviable fate, I assure you.’

‘That is blackmail. You dare to think by these means to bring me to agree? You are mad if you think I would collude with you in your evil business.’ The eyes that bored into hers were deadly.

‘No, not mad. It takes a very sane person to plan the things I do—to make them perfect,’ he replied with infuriating calm.

Laura faced him with hatred burning in the depths of her eyes. ‘You have a black heart, Edward Carlyle,’ she said,
her voice trembling with anger, ‘and I despise you. You are twisted and evil, and it will be your own wickedness and greed that will bring about your destruction.’

‘Perhaps,’ he retorted coolly, unperturbed. ‘However, let’s get back to the matter in hand, shall we? I shall require your full co-operation on two nights. I will get word to you when they are to be. I know you will see things my way in the end. You have so much common sense. That is what I’ve always admired about you. If you behave sensibly and do as I ask nicely, then I can promise no harm will come to your friend and her child through me.’

‘That is indeed generous of you,’ Laura said tightly. ‘And do you expect me to believe the word of a villain?’

‘What choice do you have? If you do as I require, nothing unpleasant will happen.’ Taking note of her pallor, his instinct telling him that she was near submission, he stretched his lips in an odious smile of triumph. ‘Think on it, Laura. You will be hearing from me very soon.’

Turning quickly, he walked away, unable to believe his luck. The woman he would have married would soon be his to command as he saw fit. He expected to make a fortune out of the next two landings, and then he would ease off for a while. He’d been sailing a mite too close to the wind lately, and things were becoming dangerous. It was true what he’d said to Laura. Her husband had a habit of riding out during the night, and one never knew when or where he was likely to appear. Also, the excise men were suspicious, so he had decided to go to London, where he would lie low for a while.

The Comtesse de Mournier was safe for now. The thing that mattered above all else at the moment was that the cargo was delivered safe in Roslyn Cove and sent on its way across the moor without mishap, and with Laura’s cooperation it would be. But after that he would demand his pound of flesh. His memory was long. He had endured too many slights from Lucas Mawgan over the years, and had
sworn that one day he would kill him. He had tried and failed twice, but the next time he would succeed.

Now the chance for revenge had been handed to him on a platter. Jean de Mournier would pay handsomely to learn the whereabouts of his cousin’s pretty wife and child. Edward’s smile was devious. Some time before the second and final landing he would contact him.

Edward was gone before Laura could recover enough to reply. There had been a warning, an underlying lightness to his words, but she knew the seriousness of them. A new kind of fear stole over her when she realised he meant to use young Louis as a weapon to make her do what he wanted. If she told Lucas about this and refused to comply with Edward’s demands, even if Lucas did bring in the authorities Edward would lose no time in informing Jean where he could find Caroline and her son.

She told herself that mother and child were Lucas’s responsibilities, not hers—although she had to concede that perhaps that wasn’t entirely true, since at present Lucas was in no fit condition to look after them, and as his wife their safety while ever they remained under her roof was her responsibility. Besides, no matter how much resentment she carried in her heart for Caroline—although of late she did find it easier to be in her company, and was quite relaxed and enjoyed having another woman to talk to—she did not deserve what Jean de Mournier would do to her if he found her, and Laura couldn’t bear to think of little Louis being harmed.

But her main concern was for Lucas. Edward’s had been no idle threat. He wanted to see her husband dead and had implied that he was the one who had shot him and threatened to do so again. It would be some time before Lucas would be strong enough to stand up to him. He was so ill, so weak, and in no condition to take this on. What could she do? She really was caught in a terrible dilemma.

Neither Laura nor Caroline spoke until they reached the path above the village. It was Caroline who broke the silence.

‘I should not have persuaded you to go to the village, I can see that now. I should have listened to you. It was an extremely reckless and foolish thing to do. Who knows what will happen now? You—you were betrothed to Edward Carlyle, were you not, Laura?’ she asked in a small voice.

‘Yes—briefly, and to my regret.’

‘I know how much Lucas loathes him.’

‘That’s true. Unfortunately I have only recently come to realise that Lucas is everything Edward is not—brave, noble and self-sacrificing. I expect Edward resents him for all those things.’ Having reached a decision, abruptly Laura stopped and faced Caroline, feeling an aching bitterness creep over her. ‘Caroline, I—I think it’s best if we don’t tell Lucas about our meeting with Edward…at least, not yet.’

Caroline clearly didn’t agree, but she was too upset by what had occurred to argue. ‘Are you sure that’s wise?’

‘No—no, I’m not,’ Laura admitted, unsure how to deal with this new and frightening development. ‘But in his present condition I don’t want to worry him. You do understand, don’t you?’

Terrified that Edward Carlyle would tell Jean where she was and desperately needing Lucas’s continued strength and protection, Caroline didn’t, but she nodded anyway.

All the way back to the manor Laura felt shaken and terribly afraid. She didn’t tell Lucas about their meeting with Edward, and she felt sick with the knowledge that she had betrayed his trust.

The healing process in Lucas’s shoulder was quite remarkable, and as soon as he got out of bed and tested his feet his overall recovery was rapid. John called it a mira
cle—the miraculous lying in how far the human form and the strength of man’s purpose could dominate the weakness of the flesh, and Lucas’s purpose was very strong. As each day passed so his tension increased. He looked at Laura, but his eyes had lost that intensity that had been present before he’d left his sickbed. He was often distant, his mind far away, as he grappled with the burden of his ordeal.

There were some tender moments, and Laura would enjoy the gentle little kisses he placed behind her ear or on her neck when she was changing his dressing, and his soft caresses with the tips of his fingers on her arm or cheek. He returned to his turret room and Laura occupied the master bedroom, bemused that Lucas made no attempt to take their relationship further. After all, he had told her he did not agree with husbands and wives occupying separate rooms. Although Laura quietly wanted him to, she was too shy to make advances to him—but she knew there might come a time when she would have to.

Two weeks passed in quiet peace, but the peace and tranquillity were superficial, like the unruffled calm of the deep and treacherous lagoon on the edge of Roslyn Cove—beneath the calm ran strong undercurrents. The autumn was unsettled, often wild, churning the sea so that it resembled a boiling cauldron, with sheeting rain lashing the house from all directions. Secretly Laura welcomed the disruptive weather, for while ever the conditions remained so Edward might think twice about attempting a landing in the cove.

When Lucas was sure of his strength, when a lull appeared in the weather and lacking the patience to remain indoors any longer, he insisted on riding to Stennack to see for himself how the installation of the new engine was progressing. Laura came upon him in the hall. Her mouth went dry and her heart began to beat in heavy, terrifying dread when she saw him tuck a long-barrelled pistol into his belt.

‘Lucas!’ she exclaimed. ‘Do you think it wise to go out so soon?’

Gravely, unsmilingly, he tossed his cloak about his shoulders. ‘I must.’ His tone was clipped. ‘It is not in my nature to sit about. I cannot remain in the house any longer being coddled and wrapped like a baby.’

Offended that he should speak like this after all her efforts, Laura bristled. ‘I’m sorry. I hadn’t realised I was doing that.’ She sighed, moving close and looking up into his eyes. ‘Of course I’m glad you feel well enough to go out,’ she said, knowing it was no use pleading with him not to. ‘But please take care. It’s early days. Don’t go driving yourself too hard.’

Hearing the almost maternal tenderness in her voice, Lucas gave a faint apologetic smile, as if ashamed of his ill-humour of late. ‘Don’t fuss,’ he murmured, brushing a finger tenderly down her cheek in an attempt to allay her fears. Impatient to be on his way, he strode across the hall.

Laura watched him go, and there was something about the cold gleam in his eyes and the hard set to his jaw that made her follow. She had believed him when he had told her he was going to the mine, but had he another destination in mind also? Sensing that all the hatred he had suffered because of Edward’s actions were ready to erupt with a vicious strength, she prayed he wasn’t planning on confronting him.

‘Lucas!’ He paused and waited for her to reach him, rubbing his shoulder as if to ease the pain. ‘You’re—you’re not going to see Edward?’

His face was hard and grim. ‘No. I shall reserve that pleasure for another day. I have important business to discuss with Walter, and after that I shall ride to Stennack.’ Raising his eyes, he saw Caroline coming slowly down the stairs. Her face looked pale and strained. ‘Now you no longer have a sick man to care for, I think you should spend a little more time with Caroline. She’s been somewhat subdued these past two weeks,’ he said, lowering his voice. ‘Since Louis’s birth she’s taken on a new maturity, but
sometimes she looks so young. It has crossed my mind that she would like to leave Roslyn, that it may be too quiet. She is a person who needs love and affection, and I think she’s finding it difficult coping with being so cut off from her sister and society.’

Laura watched the young woman drift off into the dining room. Caroline never mentioned their encounter with Edward, but Laura knew she was a great deal more distressed over the threat he posed than she was letting on. ‘Perhaps you’re right. I’ll try and think of something interesting to occupy her mind.’

Lucas had been gone two hours when a sealed note was delivered to the house. The bearer, a small, seedy-looking man with a gaunt face and shifty eyes, was a man she had never seen before. When he’d gone she stared down at the note for a long time before tearing it open with trembling fingers. The words seemed to jump up and hit her. She didn’t recognise the handwriting, but knew without doubt that it was from Edward. All that was written was ‘Tomorrow Night’. Nothing else was necessary.

Laura knew what she had to do, and in his arrogance Edward was supremely confident that she would do his bidding. With a sense of utter despair she realised her own impotence. Ripping the note into pieces with violence, she cast it into the fire. She stood looking into the flames, knowing what she had to do, and she despised herself, for she had to seduce the man to whom her heart had gone out, irrevocably and forever. It was his, absolutely, whether he knew it or not.

L
aura was living on a knife-edge. The tension and apprehension of the long-drawn-out afternoon as she waited for Lucas to come home from the mine the following day was almost unbearable—although she had managed a smile at Mrs Treneer’s reaction when she asked her to have Lucas’s things removed from the turret room.

‘Where shall I put them?’ she’d asked.

‘Why—in the master bedroom, of course. Where else?’

‘And about time, too,’ Mrs Treneer had said, delighted that appearances were to become reality.

When the task was done Laura’s thoughts were concentrated on the night to come. She had to play a temptress, a seductress, to make Lucas want her above all else. She tried not to think about it, becoming engulfed with shame, remorse and disgust, despising herself, for what she intended doing was cheap, the actions of a woman of the street.

But no, she thought on reflection, she could not accuse herself of this, for they were the sort of women who gave themselves to men without emotion, taking little or no pleasure from the union, whereas when Lucas made love to her, her body would experience the insatiable, inexhaustible, mysterious delights of a woman deeply in love with her husband.

Time passed slowly as she waited. It grew dark and the candles were lit. It began to rain and the wind rose, finding every chimney and crevice in the ancient building and echoing eerily along its many passages. She bathed and dressed in a simple gown of deep rose silk, leaving her hair unbound, which was the way Lucas liked her to wear it. She sat on a low stool in front of the hearth, brushing it to a silky sheen, and just when she thought she could stand the waiting no longer, a voice was heard to shatter the silence.

‘When a wife removes her husband’s things from his room, it can mean only one thing.’

Laura spun round with a start. Lucas was standing in the open doorway, with his shoulder propped casually against the frame, his arms crossed over his chest, watching her with a lazy smile, his eyes burning across at her with an unspoken question. With his hair still damp from the rain, and having removed his jacket, he looked incredibly handsome, and very amused. Trying to ignore the treacherous leap her heart gave at the sight of the intimate smile, standing up, she placed the hairbrush on the dressing table and stood with her hands clasped at her waist.

‘Do you mind?’ she asked a little shyly.

He shook his head slowly, looking at her, his inexplicable smile widening as he surveyed her from head to foot. Relinquishing his stance, he closed the door and advanced towards her. ‘I heartily welcome it. In every respect you outshine any other woman I know, Laura. Do you know how beautiful you are? And still so virginal in many ways,’ he murmured.

A hot flush of colour burned her cheeks. Nothing was more obvious to her at that moment than those eyes that were taking in every detail of her appearance. ‘You, of all people, should know I am not, Lucas.’

He nodded, his eyes intent. ‘And you look extremely fetching in that dress. It’s most becoming.’

Laura acknowledged the compliment with a nervous smile, but, knowing what she had to do and not knowing how to proceed, she felt her composure slip a notch. Lowering her gaze, she bit on her lip, when he said softly, ‘That’s a habit you have.’

She raised her eyes. His brows were raised in mocking challenge and his eyes gleamed with amused fascination. ‘What is?’

‘The way you nibble your lip when you feel uneasy.’

‘Is it? I didn’t know—but you must be right if you’ve noticed.’

‘Am I doing anything that makes you uneasy?’

Laura stared at him, then she said, ‘Ever since I first met you, you’ve been doing things that make me uneasy.’

Despite her mock-censorious tone, the way she was looking at him filled Lucas with poignant tenderness. In a voice like rough velvet, he said, ‘Then I can only assume that this attempt to bring about a change in our relationship, for some incomprehensible reason, is making you nervous. We’ve had an unusual start to our marriage, you and I. Two years ago we consummated it once, and since then we have been apart.’

‘Through no fault of our own,’ Laura murmured, mesmerised as she stared into his fathomless silver eyes while his husky voice caressed her, pulling her further under his spell.

‘True. Because of your aversion to what I did to you before, that you found it both painful and humiliating, I was prepared to wait. I felt I owed you that, but I’m glad you have taken the initiative,’ he said, yet secretly wishing it had been at his prompting not hers.

‘Have you any idea how you’ve tortured me with your nearness these past days?’ he went on. ‘Every time you came near me I’ve wanted to drag you into my arms and make love to you, but because of that other time I’d like to cast out of both our minds I had scruples enough to
ignore that ignoble impulse. I had no intention of forcing you, of making you do anything against your will.’

‘I know you would not do that.’

‘What we did was not making love, but an act of complete selfishness on my part. Please believe me when I tell you that what will happen between us tonight will be different from before.’

‘Yes—I do believe you.’

‘Thank you. And now,’ he said, looking around the large bedchamber and liking what she’d done with it, seeing that she had brought it to life, ‘I’d best familiarise myself with my new surroundings.’

Casually he moved around, fondly touching familiar objects. Flames leaped in the hearth and a dozen candles burned around the room, illuminating the huge canopied bed with its vermilion damask hangings tied back at the corners. He was struck by how comfortable Laura had made it, how luxurious it was, and for the first time since returning to the manor he felt that he was home. He was truly glad of it and filled with hope.

‘This used to be my parents’ room. And in here,’ he said, crossing to the dressing room and disappearing inside, finding his things neatly arranged, ‘is where I shall take my bath.’

‘That is all taken care of,’ Laura informed him. ‘I told John to have hot water sent up as soon as you arrived home.’

‘I can see you’ve thought of everything.’

Having removed his shirt, he came out rubbing his wet hair with a towel. Laura had seen him naked many times since he was injured, but not once had it affected her as it did now. A tremor of alarmed admiration quaked through her. In the glow of firelight his skin shone warm, the muscles of his arms and shoulders rippling as he moved. Despite the wound in his shoulder that marred his flesh, he really was quite splendid, she realised, magnificent.

‘It’s late, I know, but have you eaten?’ he asked.

‘No,’ she replied, lowering her gaze in embarrassed admiration. ‘Caroline ate in her room earlier, but I wanted to wait for you.’ She was feeling so nervous that she felt her stomach churn in protest at the mere mention of food. ‘I thought we could have our supper in here alone by the fire. Are you hungry?’

‘Starved,’ he said softly, wanting to pull her into his arms and place his lips against the quickening pulse at her throat, to feel her mouth on his. ‘But not for food. I’m just glad you want to be alone with me at last.’

‘You are?’

Lucas threw the towel down, and his relentless gaze locked with hers. ‘Absolutely, and if you come here I’ll show you. There is two years of wanting between us, and a mere six strides separating us, Laura.’

His deep voice saying her name made her senses jolt and her entire body began to tremble with a mixture of shock, desire and fire. Unable to ignore the sensual pull he was exerting on her, of the banked fires she saw kindle in his eyes, she drew in a long, shaky breath, feeling awkward and helplessly aware of her lack of knowledge. Mercifully he knew what to do and he did want her, so it made her task easier.

‘Wh-what about some food?’

‘Later,’ he said, and Laura didn’t miss the wicked gleam in his eyes. ‘We have more important things with which to occupy our time. Come. Two years ago neither of us knew what was going to happen—now we do. You are my wife, and it’s already a foregone conclusion that I’m going to make love to you. I want you, and I know you want me, otherwise you wouldn’t be doing this. If you’re still unsure about that, before the night is over I intend to make sure you do.’ Unable to wait for her to come to him, he met her halfway and snatched her into his arms. ‘Thank you,’ he whispered against her fragrant hair.

His smouldering gaze dropped to her lips, riveting there, and Laura felt her body ignite. They stared at each other for a moment that was suspended in time, then slowly, almost haltingly, Lucas lowered his mouth to hers, and she was devoured as he boldly drank his fill. His arms went round her, moulding her pliant form to his, and a shudder shook his powerful frame as she pressed herself close, the heated, crushing demand of his kiss and his passion, dormant for so long, forcing her to give back the sensual urgency he was offering. His demand became raw hunger, and two years were cindered beneath the heat of their mutual desire.

Lucas groaned, feeling the supple flesh and the warmth of the woman in his arms setting the hungering lusts, the bittersweet ache of passion so long restrained, aflame. She clung to him, locked in his embrace, and they were each caught up in the fierce tide of passion neither of them could deny. He muttered unintelligible words that tumbled from his lips as he pressed fevered kisses to her ears and the slender column of her throat, his hands sliding restlessly up and down her spine, her breasts, pressing her tightly to his hardened thighs.

There was an urgency in him to know and touch every part of her, to be rid of her clothes and have her naked beside him, to claim her as his own. As he stood back his lean, impatient fingers fumbled with the fastenings at her bodice, bringing a gasp to her lips and a maidenly flush to her cheeks.

‘Lucas! Have you forgotten about your bath? John will be here at any second with the water. What will he think if—?’

‘To hell with my bath. Besides, I had a quiet word with my trusted servant, so worry not, my love, we will not be disturbed.’

He pushed the dress off her shoulders and let it slide down to her feet. As she stepped out of it, in fascination
he watched her breasts spill over her scooped bodice. A mass of disjointed emotions, Laura felt her flush deepen suddenly and she took half a step back, putting up her hands in embarrassment at finding herself so exposed. Lucas paused as he was about to proceed to another article of her clothing that impeded their union and frowned.

‘What’s wrong, Laura?’

She surprised him by saying in a helpless little whisper, ‘I—I’m sorry. You will think I’m stupid, I know, but it’s just that—I’m not sure what to do. It—it’s been so long.’

Lucas was engulfed with a deep sense of shame at her touching admission, and realised with a stab of regret that she was thinking back to that first time. Placing one hand on her shoulder, with the other he tipped her chin up, and said as gently as possible, ‘You don’t have to do anything. Nothing I am going to do to you will hurt you. Trust me.’

‘I do,’ she whispered, with heart-wrenching sincerity.

Lucas wanted her desperately. He meant to have her, and he was confident that by the time he had kissed her into insensibility her need would be as great as his. For two years fate had robbed him of his freedom, his dignity, and, he had thought, his future, and neither his conscience nor anything else was going to deprive him of making love to this beautiful wife of his any longer.

But making love to Laura was not about self-gratification, of slaking his desire. In the past he had always preferred the women he took to his bed to be willing and knowledgeable in the ways of love, and then, once his ardour was spent, he had always preferred to sleep alone. But Laura was unlike any of those women who had gone before. He fully realised that she was untutored in the fine art of the giving and receiving of pleasure, so he would have to initiate her in the gentlest way possible.

Despite having taken the initiative, she was nervous and wary, like a young rabbit ready to bolt. Her reserve and shyness challenged him, and he vowed to make her over
come her reticence and lose her inhibitions. He would turn the full force of his seductive skill on her and lead her to discover depths of her own passion she didn’t know existed.

With the lightest touch he ran a fingertip along the soft line of her jaw, down her neck and along her shoulder covered by the fine lace bodice of her petticoat. Feeling a strange reassurance in the warmth of his touch, and the compelling look in his eyes, she stood still as, with the dextrous ease of long practice, he removed the rest of her clothes. Slightly embarrassed by her husband’s admiring gaze, she was glad when he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed and placed her between the sheets. A moment later he joined her, as naked as she was.

Laura shivered inwardly, her lips parting on a breathless gasp when he leaned over her, and she tried in vain to see past the darkness of his magnetic, shameless eyes.

Intending to take things slowly so as not to alarm her, Lucas brushed a light kiss on her cheek, gently pushing aside the sheet, uncovering her naked breasts. When she saw where his eyes were focused she caught his hand to prevent him removing the sheet completely, but he caught her hand gently and held it away.

‘No. Let me look at you, Laura.’

She hesitated, her magnificent eyes searching deeply into his. At first Lucas feared she might shy away, but instead she smiled tremulously. Wanting so very much to please him, she nodded for him to continue.

A huge constricting knot of tenderness and desire tightened Lucas’s throat as he beheld the naked loveliness of her. A blush stained her satiny skin as he gazed upon the exquisite beauty of her firm, rosy-tipped breasts, her small waist and gently rounded hips. His eyes swept slowly upwards to her perfect face, admiring the blue-black hair spread luxuriantly over the pillows. From beneath half-closed lids her dark blue eyes were watching him. His hand
gently grasped her chin and he brushed her lips with his own.

In a voice that was like velvet, filled with desire and the trace of a languorous smile, he whispered, ‘You are magnificent, my love, and have you any idea how much I want you?’