The Temptation of Laura (19 page)

It was not until the children patted Adam on his back and congratulated him on a job well done that he blinked from his stupor. He leaned down and picked up his hat. He brushed it off and put it on, shaking out his bruised fingers, clenching and unclenching the aching joints. With a wink to the kids, he marched from the alley. He had a funeral to attend.

 

Laura stood at the graveside and the vicar’s words floated over her.

“Miss Windsor will be missed. A woman who knew hardship in life but will now find eternal peace in the Lord’s open arms. . . .”

As she trembled with grief, Laura struggled to contain the need to scream and shout and throw herself over Bette’s coffin and beg her friend to wake up, to come back to her so Laura could atone for the mistakes she’d made. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t forgive herself that she’d lost focus of Bette’s needs and dashed headlong into a love affair with a man she found too irresistibly exciting.

Tears slipped one after the other down her face, but Laura didn’t move to wipe them away. Instead, she stood ramrod straight, her gaze trained on Bette’s coffin. Dr. Penders stood to one side of her and a neighbor from the street where she and Bette lived on the other. A neighbor whom Bette had helped out more times than Laura could count on her fingers and toes. As she had everyone and anyone she could. Always protective and caring. God could only have taken Bette because He needed her elsewhere.

Behind her, the shuffle of feet and murmur of voices occasionally broke the subdued quiet. She had yet to speak to any other grievers but guessed they’d be people who’d heard of Bette’s death through the grapevine and came to either pay their respects or hoped for some fare after the burial. Laura glared ahead, tears burning.

If it was the latter, they’d have a long wait coming. There were as many unfamiliar faces as there were familiar, so any strangers hoping for a free meal had wasted their time. She planned to leave for Saltford on the next available coach. There wouldn’t be a wake. There wouldn’t be a gathering at the doctor’s for people who barely knew Bette, yet claimed they did well enough to mingle and offer condolences.

“And so we surrender Bette into your safekeeping, my Lord . . .”

Laura’s heart lodged painfully in her throat as the undertakers stepped forward and slowly lowered the coffin into the ground. A sob hitched and she pressed her handkerchief hard against her mouth to stem another as inch by painful inch the coffin dropped lower. Dr. Penders’s arm came firmly around her shoulders. Either holding her tightly for comfort or firmly to stop her from falling, she couldn’t be sure. The single yellow rose she held trembled.

Her vision dipped and rose in sickening waves. Her legs shook and her heart broke. The coffin disappeared out of sight and panic roared up inside her.

She rushed from the doctor’s embrace and dropped to her knees at the graveside. Her beloved friend was so far down in the ground. She would be cold and lonely. Bette hated the cold, hated to be alone for more than an hour or so. . . .

“Bette, I’m sorry. So, so sorry.” Laura squeezed her eyes shut and just as she faltered and tipped to the side, two strong arms came around her and held her tight.

“I am here, Laura. I am here.”

His voice enveloped her in a comforting cocoon.

“Adam.” She sobbed against his chest, her fingers clutching his arms in desperation. “Oh, God. Bring her back. Please.”

“It is all right. Everything will be all right.” He rocked her as his breath whispered like kisses across her temple.

He made no move to lift her from the ground, and spoke no words telling her to pull herself together and stand. Instead, he came down onto the grass beside her and positioned her between his open legs, cradling her in his arms like a child. Her tears dried and her breathing steadied as the scent and strength of him seeped into her skin.

Moments passed. Awkward coughs and whispered words blew around them on a soft breeze, but still they stayed entwined in one another’s arms. After what seemed like hours, the vicar left, and so did the doctor and other mourners until it was just her and Adam. Alone.

“How did you know I’d be here?” She ran her finger over the sleeve of his jacket.

“I saw Monica.” He drew in a shaky breath. “She told me Bette would be buried here at two.”

Laura pulled back and looked into his eyes. He brushed some fallen hair from her face and kissed the tip of her nose. Deep inside, a voice warned her to move away from him, to enforce the distance now, rather than have it thrust upon her later when it would undoubtedly hurt more. Yet, it was impossible.

“I’m glad you came.”

“I am sorry I was not there for you.”

“Monica said she’d come too.”

He closed his eyes. “She could not.”

Laura stared at his closed lids and her stomach tightened. Something had happened. “Adam? What is it?”

He opened his eyes and pulled her head down to his shoulder. “It does not matter. Let’s just be here for Bette. Everything else can wait.”

Unease prickled the hair at the back of her neck. “Tell me.”

His heart gave harsh thumps. A heavy exhalation shuddered through him. “Baxter went to Monica’s house.”

A ball of red-hot fire ignited in her heart. “I see.”

She pulled from his embrace and pushed to her feet. Stepping forward, she grabbed a handful of earth from the pile at the foot of Bette’s grave. She stared down at her friend’s coffin. The wood was dull and unvarnished, but the pewter name plate somehow glinted under the rays of the weak and hazy sunshine. It was no longer Bette in that box, merely her body. Her soul had risen, and Laura shivered as it breathed into her, strengthening her weakening spirit.

She tossed the soil onto the coffin. “I love you, Bette.” She kissed the rose and threw it in too.

It landed perfectly across the name plate.

She turned.

Adam stood watching her. “I’m leaving, Adam. Today.”

He frowned. “What? You cannot.”

“I can.”

“Where will you go?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me.”

“There’s nothing in Bath for me anymore. I’m leaving, but first I need to see Monica.”

With his eyes locked on hers, he took her hand. “It is over as far as Baxter’s concerned. He has been arrested and with Monica’s testimony, he will serve time.”

“What did he do to her?”

His eyes darkened. “We will see her again before we leave, and then we can head out of the city at first light tomorrow.”

“We? Adam, no. I’m going alone.”

“Let me come with you. Monica can write if anything goes wrong with Baxter’s arrest and we will return.” His eyes grew bright. “Let’s escape to London. We can be together. Become whatever we want there. Shed our old lives, our regrets, and start again.”

Determined to hold on to her sensibility, Laura pulled back her shoulders. “How badly did he hurt her?”

Silence.

She’d already ensured one violent man paid for his abuse. She would not stand by and let Malcolm get away with hurting Monica. “Well?”

“Badly. I went after him, and he is now in police custody. Monica will need to press charges tomorrow. He will be in court by the end of the week. His control over you, her, and countless others is over.” He kissed her forehead. “He is a pimp, a whoremaster, and a man who extorts money. Monica is well-liked and admired. There is nothing else we need to do.”

“Are you certain she’ll testify?”

“Yes.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

“Then I will find someone who will.”

“She should know she isn’t dealing with this alone. It will take more than the testimony of one woman. I know that from experience. I need to see her. Talk to her.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “If I have to stay in Bath to see Malcolm pay for what he did to her and all the other women and families he’s exploited, so be it. But when it’s done . . .” She stared across the cemetery, away from the beguiling pull of his eyes. “I have enough money for a few nights somewhere before I find work.”

The silence beat like minutes before he cleared his throat. His lips drew softly across her knuckles. She met his eyes and he smiled. “Come with me to London.”

“No.”

“If you aren’t in Bath, there’s nothing for me here either.” His cheeks flushed and his jaw tightened. “We can go to London and seek our destiny.”

“What about your play? What about Bristol?” She shook her head. “You have commitments you need to deliver upon. Did you find an investor willing to support you?”

His expression turned to stone before he stared toward Bette’s grave. Laura frowned. “Adam?”

He faced her. “No.”

“But—”

“There was no investor. It was a wasted trip. I never went for the audition either. It is not what I want anymore.”

“I don’t understand. You were gone longer than you thought. I assumed things went well, that you made progress.” Afraid he might have missed the audition for her, Laura forced a smile. “I’m happy for your success. You must carry on regardless. Don’t let Bette’s passing—”

“Everything has changed. I do not want to be who I am anymore. You inspire me to be more, to do more. Let’s get away from everybody and everything. We can do whatever we want.” He kissed her hard on the mouth and she stumbled backward. He smiled and grasped her hands. “A beautiful young woman stared up at me in the Theater Royal not so long ago. That woman has taught me anything is possible. If you are willing to start over somewhere else, without Bette, let that somewhere be in London with me.”

A yearning to believe what he suggested was possible thudded through her heart, making each second she looked at him harder to turn away. He pulled her tightly against him and his lips covered hers. Laura trembled in his arms; the spark between them exploded like a firework and singed her blood with passion and love. She clung to his muscular biceps and welcomed his tongue into her mouth.

They barely knew one another, but the depth of her emotion toward him was too much to ignore or disregard. What did she have to lose but her stupid heart? Wasn’t it worth grabbing whatever the future held and seeing where it led them? At least for as long as it could possibly last? Their time together would end, of that she was certain. Yet, she needed something to hold dear—if only for a while.

Excitement pumped through her and she pulled back. “If Monica is strong enough to do this without us, then we’ll go and live every day for Bette.”

He ran his finger along her cheek. “She would not want any different for you. I know it. The look of happiness in her eyes the morning after we made love said it all.” He smiled.

Laura grinned. “She enjoyed every moment of our discomfort.”

He tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. “Let’s do this. For Bette.”

She clasped his arm and together, they left the cemetery.

Later that evening, Laura struggled to contain her anger as she stared at Monica’s bruised and battered face. Her friend’s beauty was marred, but more than that, her gaze burned with a new and bitter determination. Something Laura hadn’t seen before. A seething rage had replaced the soft look of happiness.

She reached for her friend’s hand as they sat side by side on Monica’s settee. “So the police are certain your testimony will be enough?”

“Yes, they already have a long list of complaints from people brave enough to report Malcolm for overcharging their rent. I’m just grateful he didn’t have that power over you too.” Monica drew in a shaky breath. “These people have been forced from their homes but still maintained the gumption to let the police know of his activities. The officer said with my testimony added to what they already know, this should be enough for a judge to see Malcolm’s nothing more than a leech to society.”

Laura shook her head. “I cannot believe we both knew the man before we met, albeit in different ways.”

Monica huffed out a laugh. “Like I said, the man’s a leech. Slipping and sliding in and out of countless lives and hurting them all, from what I have learned over the years.”

“It ends here.”

Monica grinned. “Exactly.”

Laura looked to their joined hands as her mind raced. If she left and Baxter walked away from court, then what? After everything she’d done to find her and Bette a place to live, getting Baxter’s other whores alternative work, and letting them board with them from time to time would be for nothing? She glared at a spot on the carpet. Over her dead body.

She looked at Monica. “I can’t leave. Not when Malcolm’s fate is so uncertain.”

Monica squeezed Laura’s hand and glanced across at Adam sitting in an armchair opposite them. “I want you to go. Both of you. If needs be, I will write and ask you to come back. Time is too precious to wait when you have found something as wonderful as you both have.”

Perpetual unease ran through Laura. She might’ve made the decision to enjoy her and Adam’s time together for as long as possible, but passion was not a foundation—it was an irrational feeling. It didn’t put bread on the table, a roof over one’s head, or keep the wolf from the door. She tilted her chin. They had to focus on their problems and not their feelings. Working toward a better future took work. Hard work.

“You mustn’t speak of Adam and I as a couple. A huge part of why we’re going to London is for Adam’s play. We’ll try our utmost to find an interested investor, but if we fail, then—”

“You will have each other,” Monica said succinctly. “Just leave Malcolm to me. You have no idea what I am capable of. I only have myself to take care of and I will be fine. We are strong enough to fight him. Hasn’t this changed you, Laura? Hasn’t it tripped something inside you? Made you want to do more now we are finally rid of him?”

The knot of excitement she’d felt when she learned of Baxter’s arrest tightened once more in Laura’s belly, and she smiled at the expectation in Monica’s gaze. She laughed. “And here I was, thinking it was just me who felt like a phoenix rising from the ashes at the prospect of him being gone for good. I want to do so much. I feel as though it was him holding me back all this time.”

Monica grinned. “We were meant to meet. I know it. We owe it to ourselves to make something good happen in our lives.”

“Of course. But . . .” Laura’s anticipation lessened from a roar to a quiet hum.

Resolutely avoiding looking at Adam, she rose to wander about the room, desperately fighting the self-doubt that battled inside her. Her monthly bleed was late and she had yet to say anything to him, or what to think about the miracle she carried—if she were to be pregnant again. What of the play? Her role as Lucinda?

Emotionally, she was in a far bigger mess than she’d ever thought possible. Worse, she was alone, without Bette’s counsel.

“Laura?” Adam’s voice cut through her thoughts.

She snapped her head around. “Yes?”

“What is it?”

She forced the scowl from her face. “Nothing.”

He stood and came toward her. Concern further darkened his deep brown eyes. “If there’s something else bothering you, you must tell me. I want you to be as happy about leaving as I am.”

She glanced at Monica. Her eyes were bright, her mouth stretched into a confident smile. Would Laura ever have that same confidence? Would freedom and taking a risk make her as happy as Monica?

Aren’t I equally as strong in my own way?
She met Adam’s steady gaze and drew in a long breath. “I am happy. We’ll leave tomorrow.” She turned to Monica. “Once we’re settled, we’ll let you know where we’re staying. You’re to write to us the minute anything changes with Baxter. We can be on the first coach back to Bath.”

Monica nodded and carefully pushed to her feet, her obvious physical discomfort showing in a momentary grimace. She pushed her hand to her ribs. “Nothing will go wrong. I’ll ensure it.”

Concern for her friend continued to poke and prod at Laura as Monica came toward her and Adam, gesturing for their hands. “Everything happens for a reason.” Monica smiled. “Even with the likes of Malcolm. He’s joined in our history, but he won’t be in our future. I want you to go to London and find your hearts’ desires. Promise me.”

Tears pricked at Laura’s eyes and she blinked, turning to Adam. He stared at her as though she were a goddess. Insistent fear rippled through her, but she nodded and locked her eyes on his. “We will.”

 

Adam sealed his letter to Annabel with a flourish and a huge sigh of relief. He leaned back and stared out at the street through his drawing-room window. Would he and Laura return to Bath in a week, a month, a year . . . ever? How his perspective and love of life had changed since meeting her! The fire of ambition that burned so ferociously inside him had somewhat mellowed, and now more than a passion for his career burned in his blood. He imagined a wedding, a family home, maybe even children with his lovely Laura when the time was right.

Smiling, he turned from the window and picked up the letter to Annabel. He stared at her name on the envelope. His words stated in no uncertain terms the deal they had struck in Bristol was no more. She could keep her money and her promises. He would find his own way with the woman he loved. Whatever challenges the future held, he was confident together, he and Laura could overcome them.

The scuffle of her feet on the ceiling above him broke through Adam’s thoughts and he pushed to his feet. Leaving the drawing room, he entered the hallway and snatched his overcoat from a stand by the front door. He walked to the bottom of the stairs. “Laura?”

A second or two passed before she appeared at the top. Her pretty brow was furrowed and her cheeks flushed. “I’m almost packed. I assume you want to leave most things here for now? It doesn’t make sense for us to make too many arrangements for your belongings. At least not yet. Until we know for certain London—”

“Is going to be fantastic.” He grinned, her anxiety only making him love her more. “But you’re right, when we leave, I’ll lock up the house and decide what to do about everything in a week or two when our plans are clearer.”

Her shoulders relaxed. “Good.”

He raised his hand and flicked the letter to Annabel back and forth. “I just have a letter to put in the post box. Did you want anything while I am out?”

“No, I’m fine. I should be nearly done by the time you get back.”

“I will be as quick as I can.” He winked before turning and heading out the front door and onto the street.

As Adam made his way along the street to the main road, his mind reeled with anticipation of their future. Breaking from Annabel, for what he now knew was the final time, filled him with an inner peace that was only marred by the potential for her to make trouble for him and Laura later. He scowled. If and when that happened, he would deal with it. For now, he could not wait to get started on their journey across the country to London.

He estimated they should reach the big city the day after tomorrow.

Adam smiled. Then their lives together could truly begin.

 

Despite her tired body and busy mind, the need for sleep eluded Laura as she stared wide-eyed at the chaos of London’s streets. The carriage carrying her and Adam into their new life had taken them away from Bath two days before, and now the terrifying reality of what they were doing showed in all its soot-filled glory. The day had broken gloriously sunny as though God Himself was giving them permission to make their escape. Yet even in the pretty pink twilight, London’s rich-to-poverty ratio was clear.

Grandly dressed ladies and gentlemen mixed with street urchins and beggars as though it were the natural order of things. Fancy hotels lit with lanterns and finery glowed like promised lands, when farther along the street, a gaudily dressed whore marked her corner. Laura didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Excitement mixed with trepidation; ambition with awe. She had no idea which emotion to cling to.

She dropped her gaze to her lap. Adam held her hand as though they were lovers. Where would they stay? How would they eat? Their attraction wasn’t enough to sustain them. Their ambition was not enough to ensure their prosperity.

Laura lifted her chin. No, she wouldn’t do this.

Bette was dead, but her spirit lingered. If their shared lives had taught her nothing else, Laura was certain of one thing—a person grasped whatever opportunities they could. Monica wasn’t just willing to testify against Malcolm, but determined. Her steadfast glare and upright stature when she and Adam visited her had been inspiring.

Bette, Adam, Monica, Dr. Penders, even Baxter himself, had come into her life for a reason, and be damned if she’d ignore the lessons each of them taught her. Change was afoot in England. Women were standing taller and stronger than ever before.

Excitement churned inside. She desperately wanted to be a part of whatever that meant. Maybe her feelings for Adam were foolhardy. Maybe she sat with him now with little planned and led entirely by her heart rather than her head, but did that mean they would fail? No. Emotion lodged like a stone in her throat. Their time together might be limited, but by God, she’d enjoy it while it lasted.

Tears burned.

She had lain with a hundred men, maybe more. A gentleman would never marry such a woman, and when the smoke cleared from Adam’s eyes, he would see her for what she was—a whore with little to show for her twenty-two years. Pain struck her heart afresh and she sucked in a breath. She couldn’t bear the thought his desire for her was little more than his need to have her warm his bed.

Mentally shaking herself from her melancholy, Laura straightened her shoulders. Whatever he saw in her, the decision to leave Bath and come to London was a good one. It was a fresh start. A new beginning. After losing Bette, nothing felt more certain.

She stared at Adam’s absurdly handsome profile. His delay in Bristol and his subsequent reluctance to talk about it weighed heavy on her mind and in her heart. There was definitely something he wasn’t telling her, but who was she to demand it from him? She prayed to God he never asked her the details of her past. Some things a person had a right to take to their grave.

He turned suddenly and caught her staring. His face immediately broke with a wide smile, his eyes shining. “Could this day be any brighter?”

Her heart twisted and she couldn’t fight her smile at his boyish excitement she was coming to adore. She released her held breath. “I hope it’s a sign we’re doing the right thing.”

“It is.” He squeezed her fingers. “We will find a place to bed and board for tonight, and no doubt the world will look even better in the morning.”

Keeping her reservations to herself, Laura smiled and turned to the window once more. Adam’s voice faded into the background as he instructed the driver where to drop them. London was clearly not as new a land to him as it was to her.

The carriage rumbled to a stop and she shook off her contemplation. Adam opened the door and helped her out onto the pavement. The shouts of the street vendors and the music of the buskers mixed with the laughter and shouting of inebriated workmen and hardworking flower sellers calling their wares.

She inhaled the smells of roasting chestnuts, soot, and rose water. It was Bath, but on a busier, more manic scale. Together or separately, who was to say she and Adam wouldn’t conquer this place as they’d failed to do in Bath?

Adam took their cases from the driver and paid him before turning and taking her hand in his. “I know a tavern that offers a decent bed and breakfast. We will stay there until we find our feet. We can move on when we are ready.”

Guilt formed a knot inside her. “I have very little money. I don’t like the thought of you paying for everything.”

He brushed his lips against her cheek. “This is temporary. All too soon, you will be working hard at my play and it will be me thanking you for making us richer than we could have dreamed.”

His optimism shone like lanterns in his dark eyes, and the baby she suspected in her belly gave a phantom jerk, ensuring Laura remembered its presence. “I hope that’s true. You must keep your mind open to changes.”

He laughed. “I do. Always. Look at us. We are in London when three days ago we were in Bath.”

She laughed. “Does nothing ever scare you? This city must be lined with people with dreams like ours. Where we will start?”

“It is a matter of when, not where. We will find the people to make our dreams come true. I can feel it right here.” He dropped one of her hands and pushed his fist into his stomach. “Trust me.”

She struggled to keep her smile in place. It had been a mighty long time since she trusted anyone but Bette—and now Bette was gone. “I’m trying to trust this entire circumstance. Can we afford two rooms?”