The Cornish Heiress (36 page)

“Now that’s going too far,” Megaera interrupted. She was
convinced of the truth of Philip’s tale, and as her jealousy washed away her
sense of humor was restored. “Now you are just pandering to my vanity to make
me forgive you.”

Philip’s startled expression was proof enough that he had not
even been thinking of that. Megaera was flattered. Whether it had been true at
the time or not, Philip honestly now thought that he had been unwilling. Then
he grinned at her.

“Oh, my body was willing. Be reasonable, Meg. I had not looked
at a woman since I left you. Well, I am not used to so much—to such restraint.
I was, in fact, hard up. I am now, too,” he added plaintively. “I have been a
model of faithful celibacy since my—my rape by that repulsive girl.” He did not
say he had been too busy and too tired to think of women; that would not have
been politic.

“Have you?” Megaera’s voice quivered—a little laughter, a
little desire, a little doubt.

“One look at me will prove it,” Philip said naughtily, and
lifted her hands to kiss and nibble the fingertips.

Megaera pulled her hands away. “They’re filthy, Philip.”

“And cold, too. You found the cure for me. I am warm enough
now. Come to me, Meg.” He had been smiling, but his face changed suddenly to
deep seriousness. “There have been many women, but never before one I loved.
Meg, I love you, truly I do. I cannot bear to think we could ever be parted for
long. We must—”

She put a hand over his mouth, her eyes suddenly full of tears.
What right had she to be jealous? And was she any better than the harbor
master’s daughter? Was she not using Philip nearly in the same way? She had no
intention of sharing her life with him. How could a Bolliet share a life with a
smugglers bastard? As much to silence him as because she desired him, Megaera
began to undress. Perhaps, if she had time, she could think of some kind reason
why she could not be his forever. Perhaps he would be diverted and forget what
he had been saying.

Certainly if Megaera’s purpose had really been to think, she
made the wrong move. The moment she slipped in beside Philip, all thought was suspended.
The warmth of his body was like foretaste of heaven, and the full dinner was
soon served. Although Philip tried to restrain himself, it was apparent from the
urgency of his caresses, the frantic play of hands and lips, and the
involuntary thrusts of his hips that he had spoken the truth about being in
physical need. Fortunately Megaera was just so inclined—even more so. There had
been no male Désirée to release her tensions.

Philip could sense her desire, and, excited as he was, he feared
to fail her. Perhaps because they had been talking of Désirée the expedient he
had used then came into Philip’s mind. Instead of mounting Megaera, he pulled
her atop him. She was confused at first, but perfectly willing to try something
new that would give her lover pleasure. It was a revelation to her to regulate her
own speed and angle of movement. Moreover, the position made her breasts and throat
more easily available to Philip’s hands and lips, since he did not need to
support himself.

The device produced all and more than Philip hoped. In a very
short time Meg was crying out so loudly that he reached up and pulled her head
down to close her mouth with his. He barely had strength and control for it,
however. Megaera’s plunging, twitching climax threw him almost immediately into
his own, and his groans mingled with the last of her sighs and whispers. She
lay limp above him—and that, too, was delightful. It was the closest and
warmest they could be, and Megaera’s weight was no problem to Philip, as his
would have been to her.

Meg’s yielding had not really diverted Philip. He was more,
not less, determined to make their union permanent. There was so marked a
difference between this lovemaking and the last, crude coupling with Désirée that
his need to always have Meg was deeply underscored. But in the quiet that
followed their mating he felt no urgency to mention that problem to which he
still had no solution. Instead, he touched her hair and kissed her little round
chin. He began to say again that she was more beautiful than ever, but he was
suddenly reminded of that other beauty whose hair and chin were, as far as he could
remember, identical with Meg’s.

“I had the oddest experience earlier tonight,” he said lazily.
“I was at a masked ball at Moreton Place— He stopped abruptly because Megaera’s
body had tensed all over. “What is it love?” he asked.

“What were you doing at Moreton Place?” Megaera challenged.
She needed to divert him from asking about their meeting. Although she had her
story ready, she did not want to lie to Philip. In addition, the mention of
Moreton Place had recalled his cully-catching activities to her mind.

“I am a guest there,” Philip said, laughing.

“You are cully-catching there!” Megaera contradicted. “Oh,
Philip, don’t. Please don’t. Lord Moreton is no fool. You will be caught.
Please! I can’t bear the thought of you cheating, tricking the innocent. Surely
you make enough on the smuggling lay. Surely you don’t need to—to gull the
unwary.”

Philip had been about to confess all, to tell Meg that he
had been a schoolmate of Perce Moreton’s, when she had interrupted him. He hesitated,
wondering whether she would believe him or whether she would think it was
another lie tied in with whatever unsavory scheme she believed him to be hatching.
At once he realized that the hesitation had precluded his telling the truth. If
he had burst out with it at once, she might have sensed the spontaneity. Now if
he spoke she would only be more convinced he was lying. Still, he did not want her
to think him a “sharp”.

“I am not!” he said forcefully. “I do not gull the unwary.”

Megaera slipped to the side. She had meant to move away, but
it was too cold and she pressed herself against Philip, shivering a little from
the chill of the unwarmed portion of the bed.

“Don’t play with words,” she begged. “Whatever you call what
you’re doing at Moreton Place—stop, please—for my sake if not for your own.”

Philip opened his mouth to protest innocence again, and
then, realizing she would never believe him, decided to make a virtue of a
necessity. Let her think she had turned him away from crime. It would make her
feel good and do no harm. He shrugged his shoulders.

“Very well. It was not what you think, Meg, but if you do
not like me to stay there, I will move back to the house on the cliff. I must
go back to France with Pierre again, darling, but this time it should not be
for long. When will he be back, love?”

“Not this week. The weather is too bad. I will watch for him
again next Tuesday, but you cannot live in the cliff house in this weather, Philip.”

“I suppose I could stay here,” he said without enthusiasm.
The cave was not a very attractive place of residence.

“Oh no!” Megaera exclaimed.

It was her immediate reaction to the fact that Philip would
inevitably learn of the passage to Bolliet if he lived in the cave. Although
she was pleased and touched by Philip’s willingness to give up his present
dishonest enterprise, whatever it was, his agreement had fixed in her mind that
there had been something dishonest afoot. This made her too fearful to expose
herself to him. Half her mind said:
he loves me, he would never betray me
.
The other half cautioned:
now he loves you, but a cully-catcher finds weak
prey irresistible; be safe, not sorry
.

A little devil tickled Philip, and he said most seriously, “If
I promise not to do anything of which you would disapprove, Meg, why shouldn’t I
stay at Moreton Place? I can slip out after dark each night and come here to
meet you.”

The question confirmed Megaera’s worst fears. “Can a
cully-catcher keep a promise?” she asked coldly.

“I said I was not,” Philip replied sharply, but not as
angrily as he might have. Something in the voice and phrasing of that sentence
of Meg’s reminded him again of the haughty Mrs. Edward Devoran. “Never mind,”
he continued before Meg could respond to his protest. “Tell me instead why I
saw a woman who I could have sworn was you at that masked ball.”

“You should not need to ask such a question,” Megaera
replied, her voice trembling. There was no hope of diverting him again. If she
tried to sidestep the question, he would begin to investigate and soon discover
the truth. She would have to tell her story. “And you should have been more of
a gentleman than to do so.”

“What the devil do you mean?” Philip asked, drawing back so
he could see Meg’s face. It was flushed, and she would not meet his eyes.

That ended her last hope of not saying the lying words
outright. “She is my sister,” Megaera whispered, and then louder, defiantly, “my
half
sister.”

“My God,” Philip gasped, “you mean you are Mrs. Devoran’s
natural sister?”

“Very natural,” Megaera confirmed.

The lie had been hard to get out. Philip always seemed to
know when she was lying, and she had been very much afraid that he would laugh
at her and then insist on the truth. His ready acceptance was such a relief
that it sparked a devil of mischief in Megaera and gave a fillip of enjoyment
to her pretense.

“Are you judging only on looks,” Philip asked, “or were
you—recognized.”

The question supplied the answer to a number of things
Megaera knew she would need to explain as soon as Philip began seriously to consider
her background, and she determined to play her hand for all it was worth. This
time the cully would catch the catcher.

“Oh, yes. I was brought up in the household. I am a year the
elder. My father married soon after I was born, but he did not abandon me. My
sister and I were raised together, educated together—”

“I see.” Philip thought he did see. “My love,” he went on
gently, “I know it is galling to be eldest and yet not—not first. Still, it is
very wrong of you to engage in such a venture as smuggling. If it becomes known,
you would bring great shame on your house. Sweet, give it up. I will explain to
Pierre—”

“Do you think I have become a smuggler to spite my sister?” Megaera
laughed. “Don’t be silly! I’m smuggling to save Bolliet from the gull-gropers. My
father is a gambler and a drunkard, and my stupid sister allowed him to marry her
to one of his own ilk. Between them, Edward and my father sank the lands under
huge mortgages. All that idiot sister of mine could think of was to sell her
mother’s jewels—oh, well, she meant it for the best, but she’s too proud by
half. She’s a real grande dame.”

“Yes, I know, I met her—”

“But you needn’t think you can make anything out of knowing who
I am. She would just disown me and throw me out, so—”

Megaera’s voice checked. The look on Philip’s face had silenced
her. She was so frightened that for the moment she was paralyzed and mute.
Without a word he threw back the covers and began to get out of bed. She knew
that he was so bitterly hurt, so blazingly angry that if he got away she would never
see him again. She flung herself forward and caught him, crying, “Forgive me!
Philip, forgive me! I am so afraid all the time. Don’t leave me. Don’t be so angry!”

He turned stiffly, not even shivering in the cold. “How
could you bed me and think such a thing?” he choked.

“I’m afraid. I’m afraid. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

She began to cry bitterly, clinging to him. After a moment
his body relaxed, and he got back into the bed and took her heaving body into
his arms. It was unfair to be angry with poor Meg. He could understand, now
that his own initial fury had subsided, why she was so desperate to hide who
she was from everyone, and it was natural that she should be defensive, should
strike out to protect herself even from him now that she was exposed. It was still
hurtful that she should have been suspicious, but Philip realized he was hiding
many things from her also and she must sense that.

“Do not cry, Meg,” he said softly after a while. “You need not
be afraid of me. I will never do anything to hurt you, I swear it. Do not cry,
love.” The frantic sobbing diminished and the desperate clutch on him relaxed a
little. Philip patted her consolingly. “But Meg, darling, do you not see it is
not your problem? Why do you not let Mrs. Devoran worry about the estate, since
it will undoubtedly belong to her some day.”

Megaera stared at him for one terrified instant. She had
been wrong to lie, and now she was caught up in the lie. If she told Philip the
truth now, he would leave her; he would never forgive her for her distrust. She
had to answer as if the stupid pastiche of truth and lies were real.

“Because she wouldn’t do anything,” Megaera said softly, her
voice still somewhat broken by lingering sobs. “She would just let it all go and
wring her hands. We would all be thrown out. Maybe she could marry again, but
there wouldn’t be any dowry for me… Not that that matters, but she couldn’t
take my father with her. He’s—he’s pretty far gone. Anyone would insist on
locking him up and… Maybe he hasn’t been much of a father, but he loves me…as
much as he can. I couldn’t…“

Philip’s mind had been working frantically throughout this not-too-lucid
explanation. From his point of view things were even worse. He had thought all
he need do was offer Meg security and she would give up the smuggling. Now he
found she was struggling to save an encumbered estate that was not even hers. It
would have been bad enough to need to explain to his parents that he was making
a permanent arrangement that would preclude marriage. Philip knew Meg would not
stand for his marriage no matter how he tried to explain that was only for the
purpose of providing grandchildren for his parents and she would be right.
Unless he had the misfortune to marry a monster like his own mother, years of avowed
and approved relationship strengthened by the bond of children was sure to
damage, if not destroy an illicit love, no matter how strong.