Lucy Lane and the Lieutenant (7 page)

Lucy looked away. Was Aunt Dora right? Had she handled things badly? If she had, she had no idea how to put it right. It crossed her mind that Nathan might not want her to, that he didn’t want to go back to how things had been and his mind was set on his mission. If he were to reject her, she didn’t think she could bear it. The thought of further humiliation made her cringe inside.

* * *

Nathan found Lucy in the small, cosy sitting room at the back of the house in Bayswater. It was an intimate room, snug and informal, books and papers scattered about, a fire burning in the fireplace, a large window looking out over the small and flower-filled back garden.

Lucy had ensconced herself in the window seat, her delicate feet not quite touching the floor. She held a book and was lost in reading when he approached.

The first thing that struck him was her newly cropped mop of chestnut hair. The light lent gold highlights to it, which sat like a cap of curls about her head, stray wisps caressing her forehead and cheeks. Her profile was towards him and he admired her high cheekbones. Her long neck was as graceful as a swan’s. Her violet-coloured gown opened in front to display her white petticoats. The bodice, lined with white lace, plunged downwards, and he watched her breasts rise with each breath. Her hands were tiny, the fingers slender and graceful.

She was as lovely and desirable as he remembered and he felt the heat rise in his loins.

After a moment he walked farther into the room, suddenly filled with regret at what he was expecting of her. He had sent many men into battle and he had been sorry to see them go, but always he had known that it had to be done. But he’d never had to place someone he knew well, a woman, a woman whom he had loved—might still love—in such danger.

‘Lucy,’ he said at last. He watched with amusement as she started, nearly dropping the book. She glanced up and he smiled at her. She did not return the greeting. Instead she put the book face down on her lap and ran her fingers through her hair.

‘Well? What do you think? I had Polly cut it earlier. Does it suit me?’

He laughed softly. ‘Polly could have shaved your head and you would still be beautiful. Where we are going you will find it less trouble.’

Her face became apprehensive. ‘Is it time to leave?’

He nodded. ‘Tomorrow. First thing.’

‘The sooner we leave, the sooner the mission will be over.’

‘The idea of being on the road with me, alone and far from the places that you know, doesn’t daunt you, then?’

‘Not unduly,’ she lied, dropping her gaze, feeling the old familiar ache of desire wrenching at her insides. She should not have agreed to this. It was wrong—madness. If she did not know how it felt to be in his arms, to be loved by this man, then she would not be suffering this terrible longing now.

‘You are forbearing, Lucy,’ Nathan murmured, having no idea of her thoughts. ‘After a gruelling two weeks of intensive training, most women would have objected most strenuously.’ He smiled faintly and his next words were softly spoken. ‘But then you are not most women, are you?’ He saw she was unsure how to respond to that. ‘I meant that as a compliment. Very much so.’

Lucy’s heart beat a little faster. ‘I’m flattered.’

‘I meant it.’

‘I have tried very hard to learn. I am determined to help you succeed. I hope we can rescue the woman and her child. I also hope I don’t let you down.’

‘You won’t do that. Are you nervous about travelling so far from home?’

‘I would be lying if I said I wasn’t apprehensive about what will happen when we reach Portugal,’ she answered truthfully. There were times when she thought about it that the very idea of going all that way filled her with terror. That was when she would remind herself of the money. It was a fortune for her and her aunt. But even the thought of such an enormous sum was not enough to calm her. ‘It’s the first time in my life that I’ve ever travelled—abroad, that is. I’m apprehensive yet excited by the prospect of gratifying my curiosity in seeing foreign parts. Is there anything else I have to know before we leave?’

‘I think I’ve brought you pretty much up to scratch. Make sure you wear a hat at all times to conceal your hair. It’s best if people think you are a youth at first glance. We don’t want to attract attention to ourselves.’

He looked at her gravely. Knowing full well that he was taking her into a situation from which she might not escape was torturing him. But he had no choice. He did so because he had to. But he would do all in his power to keep her from harm. That, he was sure of. And if anyone should hurt her, or kill her, then that person would cease to live.

‘It won’t be easy, Lucy, I want you to understand that.’

‘I know. You have already told me.’

‘You must see Lucy comes to no harm,’ Dora said, entering the room with the aid of a walking cane at that moment. ‘I want her back safe and sound, otherwise your life won’t be worth tuppence, young man.’

‘I give you my word, Dora. I’ve an investment in her. I’ve achieved something remarkable getting her to join me. There will be no bullying, no browbeating, I promise.’

Lucy scowled at him, but a teasing light in her eyes lessened its severity. ‘Don’t believe a word he says, Aunt Dora. He’s done nothing but browbeat and bully me ever since he arrived. I have the bruises to prove it.’

‘Well, I think you’re very brave,’ Dora said, settling herself into a chair.

‘Me? What nonsense you talk, Aunt. I’m only doing what any woman would do when she can see nothing but penury ahead of her and is suddenly offered a substantial amount of money.’

‘I don’t think every woman would. I think there are special women and you are one of them. What say you, Nathan? Do you agree?’

‘Absolutely. I would not have asked her to assist me in my mission, had I not thought so.’

‘How long do you expect to be gone?’ Dora asked quietly.

‘It’s hard to say. If all goes to plan, we should be home within three months.’

‘You will not be home for Christmas?’ Dora sincerely hoped they would be, but nothing mattered as long as her precious niece came home safe and sound.

‘I doubt it, but we shall see.’ Nathan went to the door where he paused and looked back at Lucy. ‘Get some rest. We have a long couple of days’ hard riding ahead of us to reach Portsmouth.’

‘What will happen to the horses? Will we leave them there—in Portsmouth?’ Lucy hoped not. She had become extremely fond of Jess.

‘They are going with us. It will save us the trouble of having to purchase mounts in Lisbon.’ He smiled, his eyes caressing her face. He wanted to say something to reassure her, to ease her fear, but he could not. ‘Go to bed. We’ll be leaving at dawn.’

* * *

The sky was beginning to lighten. Soon it would be dawn and the city would start to stir. Kitted out in the clothes supplied by Nathan and a variety of clothes and other things she would require for the journey, Lucy gave a slight pressure with her heels and Jess fell into step beside Nathan’s horse. She was confident that Aunt Dora would be well cared for, although Lucy had almost been moved to tears when she had bid farewell to the woman who had taken care of her all her life.

They were on their way to Portsmouth, where they would take ship for Lisbon. Nathan, focused and marginally optimistic, turned his mind to their forthcoming journey. Barring setbacks, they would be in Portugal in two weeks.

The day was fine and it felt good to be setting off at last. Lucy could not regret leaving London behind in spite of the comfort it offered. She had always been happy to be on the road when she had played the provinces. But this was different, she reminded herself. This time it would be dangerous.

Now they were focused on their original purpose it gave them something else to think about other than what had happened between them in the past. Lucy wasn’t sorry for that. The thought of being alone with Nathan for long periods of time was a lowering one. They rode in an easy silence, but there was still a vague sense of constraint between them. They had agreed to concentrate on the present and leave the past as just that, but their affair and what they had been to each other still hung in memory, not to be forgotten. They had rested the night at a country inn. Unused to riding such long distances, sore and quite worn out, Lucy had sought her bed after a hasty meal. Next morning, roused at daylight by the twittering of birds and people moving about inside, she had dressed and found her way down the stairs to find Nathan waiting for her. After breakfast, they had resumed their journey.

* * *

After two days of hard riding, with just the occasional break to rest the horses and get something to eat, it was dusk when they finally reached Portsmouth. It was the most fortified town in Europe, with a network of forts circling the city. With a large, industrial complex of arsenals, storehouses and army and navy barracks, it was dominated by the dockyard.

Lucy’s gaze was drawn to a line of decrepit-looking ships in a line out in the harbour. She drew her horse to a halt.

‘What are they?’

‘Prison hulks. They’re ships that are no longer seaworthy, introduced about forty years ago to alleviate the pressure in prisons—although I have to say that the hulks are worse than the prisons.’

‘Do you mean they’re full of convicts?’

Nathan nodded. ‘They’re also used for prisoners of war from the Peninsular Campaign.’

Lucy shuddered. ‘I can’t believe anyone could exist on them. They look grim.’

‘They are, believe me. But come,’ he said, urging her on. ‘We’ll find somewhere to stay for the night. We’ll make an early start in the morning. The horses will have to be put on board ship and I must submit to the money changers before we board ship.’

‘Why? What do you mean?’

‘You cannot spend the English shilling where we are going. Our money will have to be changed into Spanish escudos. Unfortunately we’ll lose out, but there’s nothing to be done about that. It’s a particular hardship on the soldiers, who must take money with them wherever they are going, where another man can take goods. To a mercantile man it will often be a gain, instead of a loss.’

As they rode through the cobbled alleys, Lucy was not enamoured of Portsmouth. It was dirty, smelly and crowded, and the oil lamps gave out small light. Nathan chose a popular inn close to the docks. They entered to the strains of a melancholy tune a sailor was singing. The man was tall and gaunt, but his voice was baritone. Some men around him sat quaffing ale and listening. The inn was devoid of women, except for a couple of serving girls carrying jugs of ale to the tables. A fire crackled in the hearth and an aroma of roast meat rose into the air, making Lucy’s mouth water. Nathan went to talk with the innkeeper as she went to sit at a table in the corner, sliding into the chair.

Lucy looked around her. The inn had dark oak panelling on the walls with heavy beams running across the ceiling. A layer of sawdust had been strewn across the flagstone floor for warmth and to collect the mud and wet from people’s boots.

Nathan came and sat across from her. They were served food and drink, which Lucy accepted gratefully as her stomach growled for nourishment. Despite her male attire and her wide-brimmed hat covering her hair, her flushed cheeks, soft lips and glowing eyes were impossible to conceal and were as tempting as any man could want. There was no disguising the fact that she was a woman.

Lucy failed to notice the stares she drew from the men, nor the seedy-looking man who sat across the room from them, already well into his cups. Her attention was divided between her food and listening to the song of the sailor.

Chapter Four

A
fter they had eaten, they followed the landlady to their rooms for which Nathan had made arrangements. The landlady made herself scarce, leaving them to settle down for the night. For a few moments Lucy waited for Nathan to leave also, but he lounged in a chair and seemed in no hurry to go. On a sigh she pulled off her hat and ran her fingers through her hair to smooth the curls. Aware of Nathan’s eyes on her, she turned and looked at him.

‘Nathan, it has been a long day and I am very tired. If you don’t mind I would like to go to bed.’

Without a word he shoved himself up out of the chair. He touched one of her glossy curls before he strode to the door. ‘I’ll be just next door.’

Then he was gone and Lucy sank on to the bed. Pulling off her boots and removing her breeches and jacket, she blew out the candle and climbed under the bedding. A dingy light from a lantern in the courtyard below, caught in a strong wind, cast its moving shadows in the room. Closing her eyes, she settled herself, secure in the knowledge that Nathan was next door. Sleep came quickly.

* * *

It seemed an eternity had passed when she was drawn from the depths of slumber. Terror goaded her to full awareness. A hand pressed tightly over her mouth, smothering the scream that rose to her lips. Her eyes flew open and in a frenzy she clawed at it. Then a face loomed up close above hers in the darkness and her fear increased. It was the drunken roué she had seen below.

The air in the room turned cold somehow, lapping against Lucy like winter waves on a river. For a moment it held her in a circle of deathly chill and she could feel the blood in her veins freeze.

‘Don’t make a sound, lady, if you know what’s good for you,’ the intruder hissed, his liquor-soaked breath fanning Lucy’s cheek and almost making her retch. ‘Tease, that’s what you are, tryin’ to pass yerself off as a lad—though a mighty fetchin’ lad you make, deary.’ Removing his hand from her mouth, he waved a bottle in front of her. ‘I’ve brought somethin’ ter enjoy—afore we get down to business.’

Lucy made a move to the other side of the bed, but his hand shot out and grasped her wrist, pulling her to him with a strength that almost snapped her bone.

‘Not so fast,’ he said, relaxing his hold to remove the cork from the bottle with his teeth.

Lucy regained her courage and snatched her wrist away, dragging herself across the bed. Standing up, she gave the man a crisp warning. ‘Get out. My friend is next door.’

‘Aye, I saw him. I figured ye’d be needin’ some company.’

‘I told you to get out,’ she retorted. ‘I will most certainly scream if you don’t.’

‘I’ll be well gone before he drags himself from his bed.’ The drunk set the bottle aside and his eyes fastened on her in burning lust. ‘If yer friend were any kind of man at all, he’d be ’ere with yer now. I wouldn’t leave a pretty little thing like you alone.’

He lunged at her, but Lucy had avoided many a grasping plunge in the theatre from overzealous devotees and, scrambling across the room, she snatched her pistol from her bag and held it with both hands in front of her, pointing it at her assailant’s head. She had felt very safe and secure in the knowledge that Nathan was close by, but suddenly she felt very vulnerable.

‘I told you to get out. I assure you that blowing a hole in your head would give me the greatest pleasure.’

The drunk froze, his eyes on the pistol. ‘Now listen ’ere—’

‘I said get out.’

‘You heard the lady,’ Nathan said from the doorway, his sword gripped in his hand. His sudden appearance and his towering, threatening presence in the small room had the drunk scrambling back in terror.

‘I meant no ’arm,’ he mumbled.

At the same instant Nathan’s long sword went to his throat. The intruder saw the lethal power of the plain and shining steel in the light of the road lamps. The blade was held at Nathan’s full arm’s length, its tip barely quivering at the drunk’s Adam’s apple.

There was silence in the room.

Lucy sensed Nathan’s anger. Her own had not diminished. ‘What are you doing?’

Nathan spoke softly, each word clear and slow. ‘I was thinking of running my blade through his neck or skinning him alive. However, it is with regret that I shall have to let him go.’

Lucy looked at Nathan and the light from the street lamps lit the left side of his scarred face, a face implacable and frightening, and she felt the fear. She recognised his competence and hardness. She recognised, too, the temptation that Nathan had to kill the man at this moment and might have done exactly that had he met with a similar situation on campaign. The man must have seen it, too, for he trembled violently, his eyes darting around the room, as if searching for a hole in which to disappear. The sword arm moved at last.

‘Get out,’ Nathan said, his voice as cold as the steel blade of his sword, ‘before I change my mind.’

The man didn’t need telling twice. In a trice he was across the room and through the door as if he had the devil himself on his tail.

Nathan watched him go. He looked at Lucy, unable to tear his eyes off her. Her shirt barely reached the thighs of her long shapely legs, which he remembered had once been wrapped around his own. Her eyes glowed feverishly in the dim light. She had never looked more glorious and yet the glory as she watched the man stumble out of the room was cruel, as cruel as he could be when faced with the enemy. He stiffened uneasily, strangely disturbed by it.

Her head was flung back, her lovely hair wild about her head, and her mouth, which every man, just a short time before, would have given a year of his life to kiss, curled in a snarl of something they would not care for.

‘He’s gone now, Lucy. You can put the gun down.’

Nathan’s voice was slow but steady now. Placing his sword on the bed, he stood before her, holding out his hand for the pistol. His face was dark and inscrutable. His mouth was firm, his lips clamped tightly together. His eyes looked dark in the reflection of the candlelight, dark and as sombre as the deep swell of the Atlantic Ocean they were soon to sail into. His eyebrows were drawn down above them and in the curve of his jaw a muscle jumped.

‘He should be punished, Nathan. He cannot go around trying to attack women in their beds.’ Her voice was quiet, steady now, with none of the impassioned wildness of the past few minutes.

‘Are you saying I should have run him through?’ She shook her head. He sighed. ‘Leave it, Lucy. The man was drunk and will no doubt sleep it off in some gutter.’

She stared at him. ‘But—don’t you care what he—he—nearly...?’

‘What?’ Nathan’s eyes bored into hers. ‘Thank God I’m a light sleeper and I arrived before any real harm was done.’

‘Why—you conceited ass. By the time you came I had the situation under control. You could see that. You taught me how to defend myself. Don’t think you have to wet-nurse me.’

‘I don’t and I don’t intend to, but don’t go around thinking that because you know how to fire a gun you can shoot people willy-nilly.’

‘I wouldn’t do that. I know this is what you warned me against. You taught me well.’

Nathan looked at her hard before taking the pistol from her. Placing it on the bedside table, he lit the candle, more concerned by what had happened than he revealed. When he’d heard the man stumble up the stairs and heard a door open and close, he’d known instinctively what was afoot. Panic had beset him. Lucy was in danger, immediate and terrible, and with every instinct in him, he had leapt from his bed. He’d been ready to hold her close, to comfort her, for he had been profoundly moved to think he might not have been in time to stop the swine raping her.

‘I was furious when I realised that drunk had come into your room and what he might have done to you, but you also have my admiration for quickly overcoming your initial fear. I am proud of you, proud of the way you reacted.’

Lucy’s look was wary. ‘But?’

‘The man was drunk. Did you intend to shoot him?’

‘No—of course not.’

‘I’m glad to hear it. Save it for Portugal.’

Irate because he didn’t seem concerned, plunking her fists in the small of her waist, she glared at him. ‘So is it your opinion that I should have done nothing, that I should have let that filthy drunk have his way with me?’

Nathan shook his head. ‘Lucy, where did you get that notion? And don’t look like that. You’re like a disgruntled hedgehog and just as prickly. Of course I’m glad you put up a fight.’

Lucy continued to glower at him, her fingers drumming upon her hips. Nathan’s face was taut, emphasising the scar on his cheek. The candle behind him made an aureole of light around his dark head. He regarded her in silence. Despite what had just happened she was profoundly aware of him and the state of her undress. He was an extremely handsome man and, no matter how she tried to fight it, she was not immune to him. There were too many memories, too many struggling to come to the fore to resurrect feelings and emotions, which was disconcerting.

Too accomplished an actress to allow any of these emotions to show on her face, she folded her arms. ‘Just what does a disgruntled hedgehog look like? I really have no idea. I see there’s no danger of my head swelling from any compliments from you.’

‘Please forgive me,’ he said simply.

She nodded. ‘There is nothing to forgive,’ she answered quietly.

For a long moment Nathan’s gaze held hers with penetrating intensity. It was as enigmatic as it was challenging and unexpectedly Lucy felt an answering frisson of excitement. The darkening in his eyes warned her that he was aware of that brief response. Something in his expression made the breath catch in her throat and the warmly intimate look in his eyes was vibrantly, alarmingly alive. Not for the first time since he had come back into her life she found herself at a loss to understand him. Suddenly his presence was vaguely threatening. As they continued to face one another, she naked except for the flimsy shirt that hung down to her thighs, she craved his lips against hers, her body within his arms.

‘I—I think you should leave, Nathan. I’ll be all right now.’

As if he had read her thoughts, bending his head, without thought to the consequences, he pressed his lips to hers. His arms slipped with infinite care about her. His embrace enfolded her, bringing her in close contact with his lean frame. Lucy felt the hard, manly boldness of him and she closed her eyes as his searing lips slowly traced along her throat and shoulder. His hands caressed her, leisurely arousing her, stroking her breasts and moving downward over her belly.

Lucy’s whole body began to tremble as his lips descended to hers and she sought to forestall what her heart knew was inevitable by reasoning with him.

‘This isn’t what we planned,’ she whispered, shuddering as his lips trailed a hot path across her cheek to seek the inner crevice of her ear. ‘You promised...’

He smothered what she had been about to say with his mouth, kissing her long and deep until Lucy shivered with the waves of tension shooting through her. The instant he felt her trembling response, his arm tightened, supporting her.

‘Don’t worry, Lucy,’ he murmured huskily. ‘I’ll stop whenever you tell me to.’

Imprisoned by his protective embrace, reassured by his promise and seduced by his mouth and caressing hands, which had found their way under her shirt to bare flesh, Lucy clung to him, sliding slowly into a dark abyss of desire. Heedless of what he was doing, Nathan forced her to give him back the sensual urgency he was offering her, driving his tongue into her mouth until Lucy began to match the pagan kiss. Lost in the heated magic, she touched her tongue to his lips and felt the gasp of his breath against her mouth.

Nathan kissed her again and again until her nails were digging into his back and she was gasping for breath. Lost in the exciting beauty of her, the same uncontrollable compulsion to have her that had seized him four years ago had overtaken him again and he kissed her until she was moaning and writhing in his arms and desire was pouring through him in hot tidal waves. Out of sheer preservation he forced his hands to stop the pleasurable torture of caressing her breasts, but his mouth still sought hers, sliding back and forth against her parted lips, but softer now.

An eternity later he raised his head, the blood pounding in his ears. Lucy stayed in his arms, her cheek against his chest, her body pressed to his, trembling in the aftermath of the most explosive, inexplicable passion Nathan had felt in a long time.

Gradually Lucy’s breathing became even and the sounds from the inn below began penetrating her drugged senses. Drawing a shattered breath, she gently disengaged herself from his arms, struggling valiantly to make the transition from heated passion to some semblance of normality.

‘That should not have happened,’ she whispered, combing her trembling fingers through her tousled hair. ‘You agreed we would not do this—
we
agreed. We are just two days into our journey and already you go back on your word.’ She spoke steadily, without reproach, for she could not deny that half the blame was attached to her.

Nathan shook his head and his face became gentle. His eyes were steady and honest, and he did not avoid her gaze as he spoke. ‘Lucy, I will not lie to you and deny that I do not want you. There is something special, something fine about you, an indescribable magnetism which draws me to you. It always did, so nothing is changed. I saw the challenge in your eyes, though I am sure you were unaware of it.’

‘Yes—yes, I was. But I did want you to kiss me, to hold me. That I cannot deny.’

‘This was not premeditated. Men are weak creatures when their manhood is involved,’ he murmured with some bitterness, ‘and cannot resist it. But you are right. It should not have happened. If we are to fall into one another’s arms every time we are alone, then we are in danger of failing in our mission.’ Distracted by raucous voices raised in song from down below, he turned away and retrieved his sword from the bed. ‘I think we should try and get some sleep. I doubt you’ll have any further trouble. The door has a bolt on it. Slide it when I’ve gone.’

Returning to his room, Nathan knew he would get no sleep that night. He thought long and hard about what had just occurred, on the way Lucy had looked at him when he’d entered her room, her head thrown back in triumph, her eyes filled with some gladness—satisfaction—as though a promise had been fulfilled. It made him wonder why it was that her actions and her words, which should have pleased him, satisfied him, left him with a deep unease, which, though he would see no difference in her over the following days, he would carry with him in the coming days and weeks.