Love Engineered (13 page)

“Will you not sit down?” she indicated to the sofa he was near.

He sat at one end, but remained silent. All he could hear was the loud tick of the clock.

He glanced at her; she was watching him closely with a look of expectation.

Charles suddenly felt foolish. Miss Thomas looked perfectly respectable: a soft smile on her face, dressed in cream muslin. Despite his reason for being there and his knowledge of the truth, he thought her becoming all the same. But he wouldn't let her beauty detract from the task.

Eventually he muddled something together. “Miss Thomas, I . . .” he looked at her and shook his head. “I have come here today on a specific matter, one of great delicacy.”

“Indeed?” She smiled encouragingly at him. Did she have no shame?

He cleared his throat. “Yes. Great delicacy. I do not know how to start. I have a great many things to say to you. I wish to tell you how I . . . feel about you. I mean what I think of you.” He rubbed his forehead with the tips of his fingers as though trying to clear his thoughts. When he looked up, she was sitting next to him on the sofa.

She looked directly into his eyes. “I see your struggle to find the words. I can help you. You need not be afraid of saying anything to me.” Then she gently put her hand in his.

He stared back at her for a moment, blinking several times. Was she really doing to him what he thought? What he dreaded? He had never been the recipient of such forwardness from a woman before. Never in all his life could he believe that someone who was on the outside all ladylike manners could be so brazen. He had come here today to end a friendship and to try and help his friend – he hadn’t expected this.

The exact same thing that had happened to William Risinger.

A wave of revulsion seared though him. He ripped his hand away and stood up to place as much distance between himself and her. The over-furnished room wouldn't allow anywhere near enough.

She looked up at him unsure, and he began to speak. “You're too forward madam. Do you forget your basic manners?”

She shook her head. “Sir, I didn't mean to offend you. I saw your struggles to speak. I wished to help you; to make it easier for you.” She spoke in a low tone. So feminine. So soft. The flutter of her eyelids betrayed maiden innocence. Bashfulness. But he knew the truth. It was all a facade.

“Sir, I have . . .” she faltered for a moment, but the desire of her heart pushed her forward and she was no longer afraid to speak. “I have felt for you, from the first moment we met, the strongest attraction, and although it took me some time to realise that I was in love with you, love you I do.”

She looked at him to gauge his reaction. He didn't move. But he knew his eyes betrayed the surprise he felt.

“Mr Lucas . . .” she stood up and stepped forward. “Mr Lucas?”

He took a deep breath as if to control a great emotion. “You're mistaken Miss Thomas. You seem to assume that I have come here today to declare my feelings for you,” he said with deep frown. “But my feelings couldn't be further from your own.”

“I had realised that the strength of your sentiment didn't match my own yet.” She stepped forward and placed her hand on his arm. “But I think given time, maybe . . .”

He snatched his arm away from her, and flashed her a piercing look, “Do not touch me.”

His angry tone made her frown and then blush. “I'm sorry. I realise that I have said unusual things for a woman. But I have been so long on my own, and without relatives, I find I must do everything for myself.”

“You are too forward. You seem to think that I have come here today with a view to –” he struggled to find the words. “A view to intimacy. But I have come here to tell you that you're no longer to see my sister nor any other member of my family.”

She stared at him for a few moments and blinked. “I do not understand. Surely, declaring my sentiments to you couldn't cause you to end my acquaintance with your family?”

“No, my reasons are that I know of your disgusting past and I have come today to tell you how much I dislike you for it.”

Louise stood, her mouth gaping open for a moment. “What disgusting past?” Then after a moments’ pause she said, “You do not like me?”

“No.” There was complete honesty in his voice.

She turned away and remained silent for a few moments. This was not what she was expecting. Disappointment overwhelmed her. It oppressed her. “I do not see how your dislike of me should affect my friendship with Jane. She likes me well enough, even if you do not.”

“It's not only my dislike of you that makes me say this. Do you think any moral man of sense would allow his sister to be friends with the likes of you? It's your conduct and the things I have learned about you from William Risinger. I didn't want to believe him, but he was right.”

She spun around. “Mr Risinger? What is he to do with it?”

He looked away from her but she caught the look on his face: disgust.

“He has told me the truth about you.”

“The truth? Whatever he speaks, I doubt it would be the truth.”

“He has told me enough of the matter between the two of you. Your treatment of him. Your unreasonable demands. But you have confirmed everything he told me by your behaviour just now.”

She slumped down into the nearest chair. “I cannot see that what happened between Mr Risinger and myself should cause you to demand an end to a friendship. What has he been saying about me?”

“You ask me that?”

“Yes. Tell me what he has said. I demand it.”

“I had my doubts for a while, but you confirm everything in your manner and behaviour. He told me about your string of lovers, but I did not think you were capable of it at first.”

“Lovers? I have had no lovers. How dare he and you accuse me of such a thing?” Then she muttered, “I should have made him leave immediately.”

“You do not deny that you have ordered Mr Risinger out of London?”

“No,” she said with a defiant tilt of her chin. “I do not deny it. And if he's not out of London by the deadline I have set, then he will pay dearly.”

“I cannot believe I'm hearing this.”

“Believe it: for he deserves everything I inflict on him now. He is an evil, conniving man, and the sooner he is gone the better.”

Mr Lucas shook his head. “Everything you say makes me dislike you even more.” With a hard gaze he continued, “I suppose you will not deny the truth about the child you have kept near your estate?”

Louise went white. “He told you about the child?” she whispered.

“Yes, how you had the child adopted, how you abandoned your own bastard daughter.”

Louise shook her head. “I cannot believe he told you about the child, but how did he know? I do not deny that there is a child being brought up in Devon, that I had her adopted out, but Marie is not mine.” She gave a small laugh after she stopped speaking as if to add weight to her argument.

He seemed to not hear her last few words. “Yet you have the impertinence to declare yourself to me. To throw yourself at me in the same way you did to Mr Risinger! I thought I had seen and heard it all living in London, but you – you're the worst specimen of a woman I have ever come across.”

“I wasn't throwing myself on you.” Tears pricked her eyes and she struggled to suppress them.

“You were, and you did. I find it deplorable that you could do such a thing.”

“I have no father or brother to assist me in telling you of my favour towards you. I have to do such things myself. But what is wrong with telling you that I love you and that I wish to become your wife?”

He paused and stared at her for a moment. “Then you will be sorry to know that you're furthest in my mind for what constitutes a wife, indeed even a lady.”

Her disappointment turned to anger, “Why – because you believe me to be a harlot?”

“Yes.”

“You believe Mr Risinger?”

“Yes.”

She scoffed, “That man! I should have known the moment I heard he was in your acquaintance that he would cause trouble. He always does. Perhaps you are colluding with him?”

“Colluding to do what?”

“He has never done anything honest in his life. Nothing. Yet I believed you were different. You are at the forefront of your profession, and therefore the world. Why would you seek to become associated with a man with his criminal intent?”

“Criminal? He is no criminal.”

“He tried to defraud me a few years ago.”

“I do not believe you. I knew him at school and he was a model student. You are simply trying to hide the fact he has uncovered your dark secret.”

“No, I am not. How dare he tarnish my character! It is obviously the only way he can get at me now. He is the one who is the liar and I'm sorry to say he has deluded you. Just like he did me.”

“I know enough to know when I see a woman who is so rich she believes she can control everything and everyone. You thought you could do the same with me. You're wrong. From the moment I met you, you showed yourself to be a woman who distinguishes herself by embracing those things that make her more male than female. What interest would I have in your estate? Do you think I would have the time, or any inclination to have any desire for it? Do you think I would give up my life's work to become as interfering as you are with your tenants' petty affairs? It would be a half life, a – ”

“Stop!” she cried. “Please stop!” Tears now fell freely as she looked up at him. “If you have any compassion for me as a – as a human being, then please I beg you to stop.”

He had by no means finished, but for a moment he saw the pathetic creature in front of him, the one Risinger had described, and he halted.

He turned away from her. He knew he had spoken harshly. He had never spoken to a woman in such a way. Perhaps it was his bitter disappointment that she wasn't the woman he once thought she was. It all could have been so different. He had felt an unusual tug of attraction to her all those months ago – even a few minutes ago when he had first entered the room.

He turned back to her. Still her hands were covering her face. He must get this over with quickly. “Miss Thomas, you're not to come to my house or have any contact with any member of my family. Is that clear?”

She nodded.

“Then I shall go. I have done what I meant to do today.”

She looked up at him. “And I cannot see how we can continue without further argument. You choose not to believe me and there appears no way I can persuade you otherwise.”

Charles closed the drawing room door and with quick steps made his way to the hallway. The doorman handed him his hat and coat just as the doorbell rang.

“Excuse me sir,” the man said and he walked to the door to answer it.

The caller, a blond gentleman, looked familiar, but Charles wasn't inclined to find out who this man might be and, with a quick nod, swiftly left.

“Afternoon Allan,” Lord Philip said.

“Adam, sir.”

“Is she in? Upstairs?” Without waiting for an answer he made his way up two steps at a time.

The drawing room, where such drama had taken place a few moments ago, was silent except for a quiet sob or two. Lord Philip opened the door, saw his cousin thus occupied and was about to make a hasty retreat, when she looked up and saw him.

“Philip?”

“Er . . .” he tentatively stepped in.

“Philip!” Louise ran into his arms and sobbed a little.

“Whatever is wrong?” He gave her back a tentative pat. “I hope Mr Lucas didn't act ungentlemanly towards you? If he has, I will gladly see him myself and sort things out.”

She spoke into his shoulder. “No! No, he has not offended me in that way. We have argued over something, that is all.”

“Then he is a brave man to argue with you!”

He took hold of her shoulders and she gave a small smile in response.

“Now what were you arguing about? What could you quarrel about with one of the country's most famous engineers, eh?” Then a thought struck him. “This was nothing to do with Robert Adams, was it?”

“No. Nothing to do with him. I would rather not talk about it.”

He led her to the sofa and made her sit.

“Very well, I will not pry. But I'm sure whatever it was, he will come running back to you. What grown man could resist you?”

“You have it wrong . . .”

“Do I?”

Louise shrugged, too tired to argue.

“Philip, you once offered me the convenience of your Paris apartment whenever I chose. Would you mind if I took you up on that offer?”

“What? No, of course I don’t mind. You're more than welcome to have it. Paris could be the perfect thing to get over your “argument” with Mr Lucas. Although I'm not sure the City of Love is the ideal place to go?”

Not long after, Louise found herself instructing servants to pack for France. She wanted to leave as soon as possible, but the inevitable delays of business meant that correspondence had to be undertaken. She wrote to Lucy Potts to ask her to accompany her. If Lucy was willing, and she had little doubt she would be, she decided to travel directly to Dover and meet her there. She wasn't sure she could put up with Lucy for three whole months, but she was willing to try so that she wasn't alone. Besides, her aunt had recently written that Lucy had been receiving attention from a man her parents deemed most unsuitable. It would help to take her away from that and Louise had never felt she had fully discharged her promise to Miss Potts to help Lucy improve and refine herself. If she needed to be alone, Louise would find a way of getting the girl out of her way for a few days or so.

All the arrangements were to be hurried through for her, and a servant sent to collect her and see her to Dover.

Hours later and all that had happened preyed on her mind. Mr Lucas hadn't given her the opportunity to give her side of the story regarding Risinger. She was sure once he knew everything – the truth – that he would at least see his error in believing him. But how to tell him? She could visit him, but it was doubtful she would be able to control her emotions long enough to explain everything. She couldn't bear to see the anger on his face again, or the look in his eyes. It was humiliating enough to think over their argument, she had been caught so unaware by his dislike that she knew it would take a great deal of time to recover. How could she have been so wrong about his feelings for her? It was only at night when fully alone that she saw once again his countenance and heard his words repeated over and over in her mind. Tears fell on more than one occasion, and not only because of the argument, but at the thought that the only man she had ever loved despised her. Why could he not have been the eighth proposal she had received? Why did he so easily believe Mr Risinger? But that man. She herself had been deceived by him too, and it rendered Mr Lucas not so unworthy. If only she had been composed enough to be able to explain everything.