Helen Dickson (13 page)

‘How are you and Caroline getting on?’ he asked at length, the brief anger he had felt a while earlier having left him. Before the night was out he was determined that he would make love to this lovely wife of his, and elated anticipation was already building inside him as the hour approached.

‘Well enough, I suppose,’ she replied, having no comprehension of the paths of seduction along which her husband’s thoughts were happily meandering—and it was as well that she didn’t, for she might have taken flight. ‘She made me promise to call in on her when we return, to tell her all about the party and who I dance with.’ Laura remembered with a sudden stab that Edward might be among the guests, and she sincerely hoped not.

Lucas observed how her eyes clouded suddenly, and that her face became pensive. ‘You look worried, my love. Would you like to tell me why?’

Laura looked directly across at him and sighed deeply. ‘You know perfectly well why.’

He arched an eyebrow. ‘Do I?’

‘It must have occurred to you that Edward might be at the party—that it could be awkward.’

‘It has, but it doesn’t worry me unduly.’

‘Not even when you know everyone will be watching us?’

‘Not even then. I hope you won’t be too disappointed if you find he hasn’t been invited.’ When Laura didn’t answer he leaned forward until the wide, sparkling blue eyes came to meet the mocking smile in his. ‘Laura, are you, or are you not, in love with Carlyle?’

Laura felt the impact of his question as she met his com
pelling grey eyes, and she realised how intently he was studying her. ‘I think you know I’m not,’ she answered quietly. ‘I never was in love with Edward. Lucas, you must believe me, otherwise this will fester in your mind and poison our relationship, our future, forever.’

His eyes glinted wickedly. ‘I do believe you, Laura, but you would make me an exceedingly happy man if you would show me.’

She blinked at him. ‘Show you? What do you mean?’

A lazy grin curled his lips, and he crossed his arms over his chest. He looked so infuriatingly smug and sure of himself. ‘I mean, my love, that I am completely at your disposal. Perhaps you might find it easier to kiss me—if you were sitting closer, next to me.’

‘K-kiss you?’ she stammered.

She suddenly felt too vulnerable, too accessible, and she caught her breath, almost able to feel his warmth, the virile power leashed within him. Indeed, she could almost feel again his lips on hers. Sensations of unexpected pleasure flickered through her at the memory. Feeling her cheeks grow hot, she turned away, glad of the darkness inside the coach so he wouldn’t witness her weakness. But he did. On hearing his throaty chuckle she looked at him, and in utter disbelief she watched a slow, satisfied smile sweep across his face, a smile revealing a lightning glimpse of very white teeth.

Mercifully she was given reprieve, for at that moment the coach swung into the driveway to Elmtree House, which was the home of Squire and Mrs Ainsworth, set against a backdrop of woods on the edge of Roslyn village. As soon as it came to a halt at the bottom of a short flight of steps, Laura threw back the rug, poised for flight, but Lucas’s hand shot out and caught her arm.

His dark brows pulled together, in a calm voice that nevertheless carried an unmistakable thread of command he said, ‘Would you mind explaining to me why you seem to
find the prospect of kissing me even more alarming now than you did before, when I kissed you at Stennack that day?’

‘I—I don’t know,’ she whispered in nervous defence, turning to face him, her eyes wide, questioning, and shadowed with confusion as she tried to ignore the erratic beat of her heart, and the dangerous, magnetic tug that seemed to be pulling her towards him. ‘But I do.’

A slow smile touched his lips and he nodded slowly with understanding. ‘Why, what is this? Is it pride and foolishness that makes you defensive, or fear that when I make love to you—as I will very soon, for I have a good deal more in mind than merely kissing you—you will be unable to stem the sensations that will take control of you? Do not doubt my needs or my intentions, Laura,’ he said, male arrogance edging his voice. ‘When I set my mind on having something, I am not easily dissuaded from that end. When I finally take you to my bed, I intend to initiate you most thoroughly. Later, I will show you how thinly guarded your fears are.’

Reason at last returned when John opened the door of the coach, cooling Lucas’s ardour and restoring Laura’s sense, but as she stepped to the ground and walked into the house with her husband’s hand placed possessively beneath her elbow, all she could think of was the glorious fact that she was soon to experience that part of her marriage that had so far eluded her.

The buzz of voices and the strains of music created by a small orchestra filled the house, as those guests who had already arrived began enjoying the festivities. Within the hall Lucas drew the cape from Laura’s shoulders and handed it to a maid, and together they moved into a large, elegant chamber that served tonight as a ballroom.

It looked splendid, with great urns of flowers on pedestals between the long windows that overlooked the Ainsworths’ beautiful gardens. The room was filled with bright,
engaging people, chatting, greeting old friends, exchanging news. The air was filled with a cheerful hubbub of voices, punctuated by the fluttering of fans, and the silky swish of ladies’ gowns as they were twirled by their partners in the dance. The whole effect was charming.

Lucas and Laura had many friends and acquaintances in Cornwall, and as their eyes swept the room they were both delighted to see that a large number of them were present. They were met by Walter Ainsworth, a stout, jovial man with a warm smile and the relaxed congeniality and confidence that came from the privileged position he held as the local magistrate.

After twenty-five years of wedded bliss, he was still head over heels in love with his wife—and clearly enchanted with Laura, as he ignored etiquette and kissed her soundly on the cheek, proclaiming how happy he was that they’d come. His wife, a handsome woman with an easy, open manner, was across the room among a group of guests, who, on seeing them, excused herself and swept across the floor to greet them, as large and as regal as any queen.

A sudden hush settled over the crowded room as those present turned to stare, anxious to appease their curiosity about the couple who had been the main topic of conversation ever since Lucas had returned from the dead, and the burning question in everyone’s mind was—was Sir Edward Carlyle still received at Roslyn Manor?

‘Why, my dear Laura! It is so good to see you—and you look positively divine,’ Mrs Ainsworth enthused. ‘But then, you always do. You have such taste and elegance, and that colour blue suits you so well. My husband told me you have a friend from London—Mrs Wilton—staying with you. I invited her to come along, but I see she is not with you.’

‘I’m afraid not, Mrs Ainsworth,’ replied Laura. ‘It was very kind of you to invite her tonight, but unfortunately she isn’t feeling well and asked me to convey her apologies.’

‘Thank you, my dear. I quite understand. She has a baby, too, I hear.’

‘Yes, a little boy.’

‘Then perhaps when she is feeling better you would bring her over for tea. I would like to meet her, and I shall be so disappointed if you don’t. Now, go along and mingle. I know everyone here tonight has been looking forward to seeing the two of you together, and longing to speak to you.’

When Lucas placed his hand beneath her elbow and guided her towards the throng, Laura cast an uneasy, furtive look at the sea of expectant faces.

Observing her nervousness, Lucas lowered his head close to her ear, and with sardonic amusement glittering in his eyes he said, ‘There’s no need to look so anxious.’

‘There isn’t?’

‘I have it on good authority that Carlyle hasn’t been invited. So, my dear wife, you can relax and enjoy the festivities to their fullest.’

Laura expelled her breath in a long sigh, and, caught in the spell of those compelling silver eyes, she yielded at last to the temptation to let herself relax and enjoy the party, determined not to let thoughts of Edward occupy one more moment of what promised to be a delightful evening.

Almost immediately several determined young gentlemen bore down on her with the clear intention of asking her to dance. There was one in particular she gave her attention to, and that was Squire Ainsworth’s eldest son, Nicholas. With his light brown hair, laughing blue eyes and even white teeth that flashed in a wickedly humorous smile, with a perpetual rakish gleam in his eye, Nicholas Ainsworth was not without attraction.

To Laura he was the epitome of the dashing young man about town, and it was not too long ago when he had pursued her relentlessly in the hope that she would notice him. When she had made it quite plain that she saw him as a
friend and nothing more, he had gallantly—and without taking offence—bowed out and taken himself off to London in pursuit of another by the name of Margaret Smeeton, who also ranked high in his affections.

‘My goodness, Nicholas!’ Laura exclaimed, beaming up at his handsome face as he raised her hand for a gallant kiss. ‘It’s good to see you after so long. I asked your father some time ago when you might return to Cornwall, but he said you’d been delayed in London.’ Her eyes took on a mischievous twinkle as she gave him a sideways glance. ‘Could it be that Miss Smeeton has finally succeeded in wringing an offer from you at long last?’

‘Since the only desirable lady in Cornwall is spoken for,’ Nicholas laughed, glancing at her husband and inclining his head with respect, ‘I did succumb to Margaret’s persuasion. We are to be married in the spring.’

‘Then I am happy for you both. I think you know my husband, don’t you, Nicholas?’

Nicholas grinned broadly. ‘I do indeed. Welcome back, sir. It’s good to see you again.’

Ten years Lucas Mawgan’s junior, Nicholas had always been in awe of his powerful neighbour. He was a man who was feared for his cutting set-downs and his razor-sharp tongue, and many people lived in fear of finding themselves on the wrong side of him. But his father had always defended him, stressing that he was a fair-minded man, and when he decided to be he was the most loyal friend anyone could wish for.

Sir Lucas was also the only person Nicholas knew who could slay a man with exquisite finesse—be it with a sword, a word or a glance—and Nicholas had no wish to give him cause to bring his life to a premature end by asking Laura to dance with him without first seeking her husband’s permission.

‘Would you permit me to dance with your wife, sir?’

Lucas’s response was to look Nicholas up and down with
a critical eye, but he voiced no objections. Leaning a shoulder against a pillar, he watched Laura make her graceful way onto the dance floor and young Ainsworth take her in his arms. As she dipped and swayed to the music, her lithesome female figure floated with a fluidity and grace over the floor in a swirl of powder-blue, the tips of her matching satin slippers adorned with silver-filigreed buckles visible as her feet darted to and fro in step to the music.

‘Take it from me, Lucas, you’re the luckiest man here tonight,’ Walter said, having sought the younger man out so that he might speak to him on a matter that concerned him.

Understanding Walter’s meaning, Lucas casually glanced sideways at him, before settling his gaze on his wife once more, as if he couldn’t bear to drag it away. ‘I do believe you’re right, Walter—and the proudest. It has not escaped my notice that my wife has worked wonders at the manor in my absence.’

‘Not just at the manor, Lucas—on the land, too. Unlike other women of her station, she isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty, I’ll say that for her. Oh, the people of Roslyn were suspicious and wary of her at first, but when she came upon them with that lovely smile of hers and a kindly word, asking them about their homes and families and their work in an attempt to know and understand them better, genuinely concerned when there was sickness in a house and doing what she could to make it better, they relaxed and welcomed her among them.

‘You must have seen how respected she is. Ever since she came to Roslyn and took over from you, she’s driven everyone hard and herself even harder. She has earned an unassailable position at the pinnacle of society, and there isn’t a man or woman in the district who doesn’t admire her, and not a man would pass her by without taking his hat off to her.’

‘You’re right, Walter,’ Lucas agreed. ‘Laura is a verita
ble treasure—the finest woman I know—and now I’m back I intend giving her a pampered life replete with every luxury that’s within my power to grant her.’

Walter frowned slightly. Could this quiet, almost retiring man really be the same arrogant buck he had known in years past? The strain Lucas had undergone these past two years showed in the shadows beneath his eyes and in the lines graven at the sides of his mouth. He was leaner than before, but that same aura of carefully restrained force and power emanated from him. He was still decidedly handsome, and still moved with a vigorous purposefulness.

It was no secret to Walter that before his alleged demise Lucas had been attached to the foreign office, frequently disappearing for weeks on end on some mysterious, often dangerous mission or other, which was the reason he had always been a self-proclaimed single man. But that wasn’t to say he had been without female company—quite the opposite, in fact.

Lucas had always chosen a mistress whose company he enjoyed. She had to be passionate and experienced, intelligent and sophisticated—and, moreover, she had to be a woman who made no demands and expected no promises. Walter noted Lucas’s distracted, thoughtful expression as he watched his young wife dancing with Nicholas, seeing admiration and a strange softness in the depths of his eyes. He hadn’t seen him look at any female quite that way before. Unable to believe that a man of Lucas’s character could change that much, he chuckled softly.

Hiding an amused smile and without shifting his gaze, Lucas said, ‘What do you find so amusing, Walter?’

‘You, since you ask. I can hardly believe you to be the randy young hellion I used to know, and because marriage was never your forte you were the plague of every mama with unattached daughters, for no matter where you went you inevitably left a trail of broken hearts in your wake.’