Authors: Highwayman Husband
When she spoke her voice was surprisingly calm. ‘Then you must go. But please be careful.’
‘I shall be bringing someone back with me, so please have a room made ready—the one at the end of the gallery overlooking the sea,’ he said, almost as an afterthought.
She swallowed, nodding slowly, curious as to whom this mysterious guest could be.
Lucas gazed down at the incredibly lovely face he still held between his hands, studying her as if seeing her for the first time. ‘You know, you’re taller and much older than I remember.’
The unexpected observation, added to his genuinely puzzled expression, brought a startled smile to Laura’s lips. ‘I don’t believe I’ve grown an inch in two years, and if I look older then that’s because I am.’
He smiled absently at her reply and then continued thoughtfully, ‘When I first saw you I mistook you for a
shy, rather frightened, retiring young thing, who wouldn’t say boo to a goose.’
Determined to inject a lightness into their relationship at every opportunity in the hope that it would draw them closer together, Laura said teasingly, ‘I was only ever shy when I was with you—and I would most definitely say boo to a goose if it made me cross.’
‘I’m sure you would. You are not shy,’ he agreed, smiling softly, ‘and nor are you as young as I remember. But then, neither are you as old as some nearly-twenty-one-year-old ladies I have known.’
‘Oh, dear,’ Laura said seriously, her eyes aglow with gentle mockery, ‘you seem to be rather confused about me, don’t you?’
‘Evidently,’ he murmured, his heavy-lidded gaze delving deep into the intoxicating tear-bright eyes, mesmerised by the incredible sweetness of her—of her lips. It had been a long time since his emotions had been so stirred. At that moment his only desire was to hold her, to savour the passionate feelings swelling inside him—the first passion he’d felt in two years.
Lowering his mouth, he slid his lips over hers, moulding them, telling himself to go slowly, urging her to kiss him back. And when she did and leaned into him, crushing her parted lips to his, Lucas almost groaned at the pleasure of it. Plunging his hands into her thick hair, holding her captive, he lifted her face closer to his hungry, searching mouth. Desire, primitive and potent, scorched through him. His arms went round her, holding her tight, while his lips forced hers to part wider, so that he could taste the honeyed sweetness within.
To Laura, what he was doing to her was unlike anything he had done to her before. It was like being imprisoned in a warm and sensual cocoon of sensuality where she had no control. Her body was pressed close to the hardened contours of his, and her parted lips welcomed his invasion,
feeding his hunger. The shock of being held once again in the strong arms of the husband she had believed dead was overwhelming. She had dreamed of this a thousand times over, never for one moment believing her dream would become reality.
Lucas dragged his mouth across her cheek to her ear, battling to suppress the impulses of a healthy, virile man who had been denied feminine pleasure far too long. ‘So, my love, it seems to me that you are full of surprises. You see what you do to me?’
Laura felt that she would surely melt from the molten tenderness as again he captured her lips, his mouth so warm, so soft and caressing. His hands stole round the back of her neck beneath the silken mass of her hair, imprisoning her head once more.
After what seemed like an eternity, Lucas raised his head and gazed at her flushed face. Her eyes were lowered. ‘Look at me,’ he said in a low, husky voice. She did so, and her eyes were like two bright stars. He smiled softly as he watched her surface from the dreamlike daze into which he’d sent her, relieved to see his kiss had neutralised her misgivings. ‘Where is that timid, innocent young thing that I married, I wonder?’
‘She is still there, Lucas.’ His light grey eyes stirred the embers of her desire, at which Edward had rudely raked but never once ignited. ‘If you look deep enough, you’ll find her.’
‘Don’t doubt my needs, Laura, or my intention of having you in my bed when I return. You were mine once, and will be again.’
‘Do you think I don’t remember?’ she whispered.
‘That was a long time ago. When I return I will erase that memory and make new ones for you. I have told you that what I will do to you will not resemble the first time. I intend to initiate you most thoroughly. But now is not the time—not here, not like this.’
Laura simply looked at him, seeing his face in the quickly fading light, all planes and shadows, and the silver glitter of his eyes. She could feel the throbbing of his heart, matching the erratic beat of her own.
‘Now come, we must go,’ he told her gravely. ‘There is a fair wind and the tide will not wait. You must be sensible while I am gone. Promise me you will do as I say and go nowhere near Carlyle. I must know that you are safe, at least.’
‘I promise.’ Laura looked at him curiously, but before she could ask what possible danger she could be in from Edward he had turned on his heel and was striding towards his horse.
At any other time Laura would have found it bizarre to see John on the beach at the water’s edge, holding a large valise and Lucas’s cloak and hat. Now it seemed in keeping with the situation. The vessel was waiting out in the bay, and a boat had been sent to collect its passenger.
Dismounting, Lucas strode towards John and spoke quietly to him for several moments, before tossing his cloak about his shoulders and donning his hat. He came back to her, and, wrapping her in his arms, he kissed her, very slowly and tenderly, and without passion. When he raised his head she brought her hands up against his chest and gently pushed him away.
‘Go now,’ she whispered. ‘Go quickly—and please come back.’
Standing motionless, she watched him splash through the water and climb into the boat, and she continued to watch as it was rowed over the shifting black surface of the sea to the ship. It was almost dark now. She stood on the shoreline, her face white and rigid, her heart rent into shreds, and her mind hardly able to take in what was happening.
She remained where she was, drained of all capacity for thought, until John came to stand beside her. The breeze,
which had made the earlier part of the evening so pleasant, had given way to a bitterly cold wind. Shivering, she drew her cloak around her, pulling her hood over her hair.
‘I hope he has a safe crossing, John—and that he doesn’t fall foul of the weather or pirates like the last time he left us.’
John gave her a strange look. ‘I hope not, my lady.’
Over the following days Laura existed in a state of deep anxiety. She went nowhere, and when Edward called, John, as Lucas had instructed, refused to admit him to her presence. She spent her days staring out at the sea from the windows of the manor, blind, deaf and dumb to everything going on around her. She simply waited, willing Lucas to return.
Six days passed in this way, the days disappearing from her memory altogether as they blended into one unvarying flow. The spell was broken on a fine night, with a full moon that came and went behind drifting clouds.
The hour was close to midnight when a small vessel, her sails furled and showing no lights, crept into the bay. Laura was swallowed up in the warm comfort of her four-poster bed, but she wasn’t asleep. This night like all the others seemed eternal. Her nerves were stretched tight. Every sound seemed intensified when it disturbed the silence of the great house—from the whirring and chiming of the clock on the landing, to the gentle sloughing of the surf on the shingle down in the cove.
However, she did not hear the anchor drop, nor did she see the boat lowered into the choppy waters. Four dark-clad figures—one of them holding a small bundle carefully in the crook of one arm—clambered down a rope ladder into the boat, which was rowed towards the shore, only the laboured breathing of the oarsmen and the splash of the oars disturbing the quiet of the night.
Laura was instantly alert when she heard a quiet tapping on her door. It was John. His manner was urgent.
‘I’ve sighted a ship in the bay. I believe the master is aboard. Come. Hurry. You might be needed.’
Relief engulfed Laura. She asked no questions, there wasn’t time. ‘Give me a moment to dress.’
Together they left the house and hurried towards the steep, winding path that led down the cliff to the cove.
‘Wouldn’t we do better with a lantern?’ Laura suggested when she stumbled on an unseen tree root.
‘Better not, my lady.’
She was curious as to why this need for secrecy was necessary, but didn’t ask.
By the time they reached the cove the boat was being pulled onto the shingle. Laura recognised Lucas as he swung himself over the side. She felt her heart give a leap. Her eyes became riveted on him. Reaching back inside the boat, he took one of the others in his arms—a woman, she realised when she saw a long tress of pale blonde hair escape the confines of her hood. Lucas lifted her gently and placed her on the beach. Turning back to the boat, he took a bundle from one of the oarsmen and handed it to the waiting figure. As John and Laura hurried towards them, after depositing a couple of valises on the sand, the oarsmen were already pulling away from the shore.
After speaking quietly to John, Lucas turned to look at his wife. A world of feelings flashed across his set face, but only for an instant. Then he was moving towards her.
‘You see. I told you I would come back,’ he murmured.
Laura tried to smile at him, but realised he was not looking at her.
Taking her hand, Lucas drew her towards the still figure who stood like a spirit on the beach, staring about her with a fearful look. ‘There’s someone I want you to meet.’
The hood that had been drawn over the woman’s hair had fallen back to reveal her pale blonde hair, which fell
in curls about her shoulders. At that moment a faint, uncertain shaft of moonlight pierced the cloud and showed Laura her face. With a feeling bordering on utter despair she stared with all the horror of one seeing a ghost as the young woman emerged from the shadows of the past to shatter Laura’s new-found happiness. Disappointment flooded her heart. It was like waking from a dream to a nightmare. How she wished she could step back into that dream.
Caroline Weston! The woman who should have been in the carriage on the night Lucas abducted her! In an instant the hope and confidence which had upheld her throughout these interminable six days crumbled to nothing. Seeing Caroline again—still as beautiful as she remembered—brought a bitter, searing jealousy ripping through her breast, as keen as a blade, which seemed to take away all the joy of having Lucas back.
‘Caroline,’ Lucas said, speaking gently, ‘you have already met Laura, my wife.’ He turned to Laura. ‘You remember Caroline, don’t you, Laura?’
Laura recollected her thoughts sufficiently to remember her manners and respond politely. ‘Yes, of course I do. Hello, Caroline.’
Giving no sign of recognition, Caroline stared at her so hard that Laura unconsciously took a step back. In Caroline’s dark oval eyes she detected a terrible anguish. There was a secret grief lurking in their depths, and it was as if she was suffering some deep inner wound about which she could not speak. As she looked about her her expression was that of a child who was confused by some unexpected and terrifying turn of events.
Laura looked at the bundle when she heard a noise no louder than the mewling of a kitten, and it was only then that she realised what it was, and why Lucas had told her to prepare the room on the first floor overlooking the sea. It was because it was next to the nursery.
‘A baby!’
Lucas was glancing round the cove, his narrowed eyes trying to penetrate the dark places where unseen eyes might be watching. His voice was urgent when he spoke. ‘Let us waste no more time. We must reach the house before we’re seen.’
‘Would you like me to take the baby?’ Laura offered, holding her arms out to Caroline.
Caroline shook her head, her arms tightening protectively around the infant. The look she cast Lucas was one of pleading, and he responded by resting his hand familiarly on her waist.
‘It’s all right, Caroline. Come, we’ll walk to the house together.’
Walking a few steps behind them, Laura felt physically sick with the force of the pain that attacked her. Tears came into her eyes. She swallowed against the constriction in her throat as fear that her husband might already be lost to her fought with her disappointment. She wondered just how deeply Lucas had become enmeshed with Caroline Weston.
But then her hands by her sides clenched. After all, she had no idea what Caroline was doing here or what she had been through in France, so she must not give in to her feelings. No matter what would be expected of her in the days ahead, she must not behave like some jealous wife. She would control herself.
Startled, she became conscious that her eyes were wet. She lifted her hand slowly and brushed the betraying dampness away. If Lucas should see her emotion he would believe her to be a weak fool, and that would never do. And so the iron control she had learnt to employ when she had taken over the reins of Roslyn Manor two years ago came to her aid now.
They moved quickly up the beach, unaware that from beneath the granite arch they were being watched by a man astride a dark brown horse and shrouded in a black cloak,
which made it difficult to discern his form against the darkness of the lagoon.
It was not unusual for Edward to be down in the cove at this late hour, for he was expecting a landing of contraband later. When he’d seen the dark shape of the small, fast vessel sail into the bay an unease had crept along his bones, for he knew it was not the one he awaited. It was too late to procure a boat and put to sea, to warn the cutter he was expecting and prevent the landing at this particular spot. Already the packhorses were on their way.
He had seen two figures come down onto the beach from the manor, and had recognised them as being John Treneer and Laura. But who had come on the vessel? And what they were doing landing in the cove at this late hour he could only wonder at.