‘Forgive me.’ Harriette turned in the doorway with an apologetic smile. ‘This is unavoidable. I would not have had it happen, tonight of all nights, but it’s urgent business and I need to go to the Tower Room. I shall return immediately. If you wish, I’ll send Wiggins back with the soup….’
But Luke had no intention of meekly drinking soup whilst his wife involved herself in this
urgent business
. He pushed himself slowly but purposely to his feet, driven by intrigue and a simmer of impatience, the impatience quickly gaining the upper hand. Was she not going to tell him what she was about? Did she think he would sit by and accept without comment, when he knew very well what
demanded her attention? No, by God! He would not. There she stood, ridiculously garbed in silk and ribbons, astonishingly pretty with sparkling eyes and ruffled curls, about to involve herself in a nefarious and undoubtedly illegal venture, and all without telling him.
Would it be dangerous? He had no idea, but breaking the law might have unpleasant consequences for her. His wife must not be allowed to put herself in any sort of danger!
In an instant, before he had even thought of what he was doing, he had covered the distance between them with long strides to clasp her wrist. Loosely enough, as she turned to go, but firm enough to hold her still.
‘It’s smuggling, isn’t it? You said you would give it up.’
‘If I recall correctly, I said I would consider it.’ Suddenly her eyes losing their sparkle, were flat and cool on his. ‘I won’t be involved after tonight. But on this occasion, my final night here, my responsibilities are with the Free Traders.’
The words were spoken before he could think. ‘What would you do if I forbade it?’
An ominous silence hung between them for the length of a heartbeat.
‘Would you?’ Harriette became very still, her eyes searching his face as Alexander’s words echoed in her mind.
Venmore will demand you give up the Free Trade, see if he doesn’t
. ‘By what right would you forbid me? I agreed to consider your wishes, and I will. I was not aware that you would forbid me in that hectoring tone.’
‘And I was not aware that I was
hectoring
! But as your husband, who has some concern for your wellbeing, I might consider it wise to be so.’
He could see that she chose her words with care. ‘I see. So as soon as your ring is on my finger—’ she spread her
fingers where the sapphires glittered ‘—you would immediately govern my actions, dictate what I may and may not do. You don’t even know what I
am
going to do.’
‘No, but I have my forebodings.’
‘Well, to answer your question, in the light of your
forebodings
, if you forbid me,
my lord
—then I would have to consider your demand carefully.’
He would not let the deliberate formality rankle. ‘But would you ultimately obey, my lady?’
The sparkle returned in those grey eyes in a definite challenge. ‘I don’t know,’ she stated honestly. ‘What would you do if I refused?’
He could have pushed the confrontation, he supposed. Demanded her obedience as a conformable wife of not many hours’ standing. Instead he found himself caught up in the limpid translucent gaze that held his. And truth be told, he experienced a tremor of laughter at her sheer audacity. What a fascinating woman the new Countess of Venmore was turning out to be.
‘So? What is it to be, Luke?’ A tilt of the chin. ‘I think it is not in my mind to obey you. So do I do this thing with or without your blessing? Time is of the essence.’
And, relaxing his fingers around her wrist, Luke capitulated because he knew he must. Without doubt she would defy him, seeing a duty to her fellow smugglers, and he did not want to put that burden on her tonight of all nights. His relationship with Harriette Lydyard was not going to be as smooth as he had anticipated. His mouth curved in wry appreciation of this new force in his life.
‘I suppose you have a duty to fulfil tonight. No, I’ll not give you my blessing, madam wife—but I think I’ll come with you.’
Harriette stared in amazement, a smile softly curving
her lips. This exact outcome had troubled her all evening—that Luke would disapprove and clash with her in sharp confrontation. Well, he did disapprove, but his reluctant acceptance soothed her heart. The light encircling of her wrist in his fingers drove a thrilling sparkle through her blood. Nor was it just the excitement of the run. The sparkle leaped into glittering flames when she saw Luke’s face soften into a smile. He was so beautiful, and he would not stand against her.
‘There’s no need. It’s a task of no more than five minutes and entails no danger.’
‘As your husband I consider it
my
duty.’ Smoothly, he slid his hand from her wrist to take her hand in a companionable clasp, conscious of a spike of satisfaction, deep and warm, when Harriette gave a little laugh and returned the pressure.
‘Come then. It’s not dangerous, but it’s illegal. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
She led the way, carrying a branch of candles from the hall table, along abandoned corridors, then up a steep and narrow staircase that opened into a circular room in the Tower that rose up from the eastern wing of the house to overlook the cliff top. The view would have been magnificent, but the room was close shuttered. Harriette walked directly to the table in the window embrasure, pulled back the shutters and took up the tinder box that waited ready to hand. With skill of long usage she struck a flame and lit the large oil lamp. It glowed, sending out a strong and sure beam.
‘I take it there’s a run on tonight,’ Luke remarked laconically when Harriette did not bother to explain.
‘Yes.’
‘And the message from Mr Alexander’s boy?’
‘That all’s well for their return. It has to be now because of the tides. Too early, and there’s not enough cloud cover
for comfort.’ She stood before the glass, a charming picture, he thought, spreading her fingers wide against it as she looked up at the racing clouds shimmering over the moon. The sapphires—his sapphires—glimmered balefully. ‘But it’s safe enough and no Preventive men on the cliff.’
‘So you’re signalling for them to come in.’
‘Yes.’ She slanted a look towards him. ‘It’s not legal, you know—to signal to a smuggling vessel.’
‘I know. How would my consequence survive if I were taken in the midst of so disreputable a task?’
‘You could claim all ignorance and put the blame on your wilful wife, who had wed you under false pretences.’ He saw her smile in the light from the lamp, her eyes shining pure silver.
‘Should I be amazed that you did not postpone the wedding so that you could sail with them?’
‘This is the first run I have not led since—well, I don’t recall.’ Perhaps with a touch of regret, she looked out over the sea to where the little cutter would emerge from the darkness. ‘But, no, they are quite capable of doing it without me. George will lead. I gave them the use of
Lydyard’s Ghost
,’ she replied, quite solemn, which made him smile.
‘So our married life will not be interrupted by your need to sail the seas.’
She tilted her head as if considering it. For a long moment he wondered what she would reply. ‘No. I won’t be involved again. Or not unless there is great danger. I promise it, if that is what you want.’
‘Harriette. What an enigma you are.’ He lifted her hand from the glass and pressed his lips to her palm, cool from the cold surface, with sardonic amusement. ‘
This
was what had your nerves stretched to breaking, starting at every
sound. And all the time I thought it was the thought of spending a night in my bed. How vain of me to consider that
I
might be your priority.’ He discovered within him an unpalatable rapier thrust of very male resentment that she should not put him first, and again the sharp spur of guilt. After all, why in God’s name should she? ‘I don’t even figure in your plans, do I?’
‘Not true. It’s just that I worry until they are safely returned.’ It was clear to him that she had no thought that he might begrudge her preoccupation. ‘Death and injury are cheap in such a venture. How would their families survive if the Gentlemen are hurt or killed? Or arrested? I’m a Lydyard and so must care, must I not? The fishermen of Old Wincomlee are our people.’
Which put him entirely in his place. ‘Of course. Are you finished here?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then may I suggest we return to eat the soup before it’s too tepid?’
‘I think you rate the talents of my borrowed cook too highly. I think it would be tepid on the first occasion and won’t have improved for the delay. But the beef might be edible.’
Luke laughed. So did Harriette as they stood together in the shadows outside the pool of light from the lamp. And Luke was drawn to this appealing woman in the romantic gown who laughed softly, the glow of the lamp reflected in her eyes. He stepped closer, wanting to savour the moment of closeness, charmed when she did not resist, and took her into his arms. Her lips were as cool as her fingers had been as he began a gentle exploration, his tongue sliding over the satin smoothness of her bottom lip, searching the delicate corners. Her body was soft against his
hardness, her arms light as she raised them to encircle his neck. Luke found his arms tightening, his mouth demanding more from hers. Her lips parted so sweetly against the demands of his tongue.
Harriette sighed against him.
Not here. Not yet
. Luke dropped his hands, stepped back, surprised by the heat in his belly and the immediacy of his erection. In this elemental room enclosed by dark skies without, illuminated by the circle of lamplight within, it created a magical tug to his senses. To lower her to the floor, strip away the layers of silk and feast on her drove his control to snapping point.
Not here!
His new bride deserved more subtlety than he seemed capable of in that moment. ‘I admire your concern for your fellow criminals,’ he informed her carefully, relieved that his voice echoed none of the rampant upheaval in his body.
‘Do you?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Luke found himself replying candidly. ‘But without doubt I admire you.’
The meal was as dire as she had predicted, the dining room chilly enough for Harriette to resort to a Kashmir shawl that had seen better days, but the wine was good, of course. And she relaxed from the tension that had plagued her until she knew that all was safe, leaving her strangely light-headed. The lighting of the lamp had in some inexplicable way broken the ice between them. Would he have forbidden her? He was certainly capable of it, she decided. And, even more crucial, would she have obeyed him? It was an uncomfortable confrontation to face on the first day of their marriage. Uncertain, Harriette turned her mind
from it. Now all she had to face was a night spent with this man who was able, with the briefest of touches, to turn her blood to fire and to rob her of all her confidence.
The heat of his kiss was still on her mouth, the sensation of his arms still round her shoulders holding her hard against him. Harriette glanced through her lashes and saw that Luke had abandoned his battle with the beef and was watching her, a touch of speculation, no humour in his face. She was unable to guess at the direction of his thoughts, but it crossed her mind again that he was already regretting his noble gesture. Well, it was no better for her than it was for him, and there was one issue that still stood between them. So she would step across the divide and ask him. He might not like it, but that couldn’t be helped.
‘I would like to know one thing,’ she announced.
‘Of course.’
‘Why were you in France? Why were you set on and wounded and robbed—but not killed? Why did you bargain for the use of the
Ghost
?’
No, Luke was not pleased. Harriette doubted he had ever been questioned over his actions in his life. Her eyes fell to where his fingers had tightened around the stem of the wineglass. She prayed for its safety.
‘When I asked you before,’ she pursued, ‘you wouldn’t tell me. You said it was family business. But now I’m your wife.’
‘I know.’ The groove between his brows was deeply etched. ‘I can’t tell you.’
Can’t or won’t
? ‘Who was the woman you were looking for? Marie-Claude?’
‘I can’t tell you that, either.’
‘I see.’
Harriette did not see at all. Dread settled in her chest, a weight of despair, as she watched her husband’s handsome
face settle into bleak lines. She had hoped he would explain, denying all wrongdoing. Some trivial matter of business that had gone wrong, even a debt that had become dangerous and brought revenge. Anything. But not silence, not an inability to met her eyes and fingers as white as bone on the old glass. For if he was silent…Had she indeed married a traitor who was working for Napoleon to enable a French victory over England? Was the man Jean-Jacques Noir some treacherous go-between for gold or information? It was not beyond belief. The Earl of Venmore would not be the first Englishman to sell his soul to the devil, bought by French gold, and Harriette did not know him well enough to cast aside such suspicions as unworthy. He might have been honorable enough to rescue her from scandal but was that only because the
Ghost
was a tempting acquisition? Dismay filled her.
As for the unknown Marie-Claude—did she hold a place in Luke’s heart? If so…then her marriage to him was based on an empty façade. Worse than that, on the unpalatable base of lies and deceit. Against her will, against the promptings of all good sense, Harriette had fallen in love with him when he was helpless and at her mercy. How could she have been so wrong in her judgement, to allow emotion to swallow up cold logic? And since she did love him, why was it that love could bring with it such torment?
At last, Luke’s eyes lifted to hers, clear and completely without shadow. His voice was low and even, expressing words that were obviously difficult for him, and she strained to hear the truth in them. ‘Harriette—you will think the worst of me, as I know. Yet I would ask you to trust me, even without explanation. I’ll tell you when I…when I am free to explain. But not yet. Forgive me, not yet.’