Read The Secret Kiss of Darkness Online

Authors: Christina Courtenay

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary, #Regency, #Historical Romance, #Romance, #eighteenth century, #Historical, #Time Travel, #Fiction

The Secret Kiss of Darkness (17 page)

‘Oh, yes, Daddy. Let’s!’

‘Okay, you go and ask Annie to pack a picnic and I’ll see if I can find Kayla.’ For some reason he couldn’t bear to think of her spending the day moping. Well, it wouldn’t do to have a sad secretary about the place, now would it, he told himself.

Nell skipped towards the door, then stopped and spun around. ‘Oh, and guess what? I finally remembered to ask her when her birthday is.’

‘You did?’

‘She said it’s in August, the day before mine. Isn’t that cool?’

‘Oh, yes, very.’ Wes hesitated, not sure if he should ask the question he’d really wanted an answer to. He’d told Nell to find out when Kayla’s birthday was and how many candles would be needed for the cake. He figured that was better than Nell asking Kayla’s age outright. Now he had half the information, but not the half he needed.

Before he could open his mouth, however, Nell added, ‘And we’ll need twenty-six candles, Daddy. Do we have that many?’ She looked awed and Wes almost burst out laughing.

‘Er, we can always buy a few more. You’re sure that’s the right number?’

‘Yep, she said.’

Wes felt relief flood him. Kayla wasn’t too young and he was only ten years older than her. He could only hope she didn’t think that was ancient.

Chapter Seventeen

Sir John had been listening to his wife’s screams and moaning for hours on end and was heartily sick of the whole business. Why did it have to take so long, for heaven’s sake? It wasn’t often he thought of God, but it occurred to him now to wonder why He had seen fit to make child-bearing such a difficult task. For everyone involved.

He slumped down into his chair once more and took a sip of brandy. He had already consumed half a decanter. At this rate he would be too drunk to see his heir properly by the time the wretched infant finally made it into the world. Angrily, he slammed the glass back onto the table, making half the contents slosh over the rim.

A short while later there was a knock on the door and at his curt, ‘Enter’, the fancy London midwife who had arrived with the physician he’d sent for came in holding a bundle. She curtsied.

‘Now then, you have a fine and healthy son at last, sir,’ she announced with a beaming smile and walked forward to place the bundle on his lap. He stared at the baby in stunned silence, but the child immediately decided to remedy this and began to scream. Loud, ear-splitting howls, proof that the infant had a good pair of lungs if nothing else. Sir John looked down on the red, screwed-up little face and the flailing fists, and felt a strange emotion flow through him. His son. His heir.

In an attempt to soothe the little mite he stroked the downy head, but as his hand dislodged the blanket he stopped and stared at the baby’s hair in stunned horror. It was black. As black as the night outside. As black as Eliza’s soul, damn her to hell. With a roar of anger he surged out of his chair, lifting the baby in the process and dumping the bundle unceremoniously back into the arms of the midwife, who gave a little shriek of protest and fright.

‘But, sir, whatever is the matter?’

‘That’s not my child,’ he declared in a voice quivering with fury. ‘Neither my wife nor I have black hair.’

‘Oh, sir, th-that will change,’ the poor midwife stuttered. ‘Most babies are born dark and the hair changes within the first few weeks. Same with the eyes, they’ll change colour too,’ she tried to reassure him.

He had turned his back on her, however, and wasn’t listening.
The traitorous bitch!
He should have known. She’d looked so radiant recently and he had thought it was simply because she was expecting. All along there had been another man. Well, he would have none of it. She could take her bastard and leave or better yet …

The midwife stood for a while waiting uncertainly, but in the end she tiptoed out of the room with the child clutched tightly to her. John watched her go, feeling curiously detached as sudden plans chased around inside his brain. No doubt the woman and the physician would scuttle back to London in the morning, as soon as they’d been paid. Good.

He wanted the house to himself when he visited his wife.

In the meantime, he’d finish that brandy.

They set off towards the coast, each one carrying something. Wes had a heavy cool bag filled with goodies from Annie’s kitchen, Kayla was in charge of a large quilted blanket, and Nell led the way with a bucket and spade in one hand and a small fishing net in the other. They followed a well-worn path down to the cliffs and along the top. Kayla turned her face towards the sun and drew in deep salty breaths of air.

It really was a beautiful day with the sun shining onto a calm sea. Looking out over the water Kayla could see several boats, some with sails, some without, and further out a huge oil tanker. Sounds were strangely muted, as if her ears were stuffed full of cotton wool, and Kayla felt like she was in a different world. It was wonderful.

Ten minutes into their walk, however, Nell had had enough. ‘Daddy, my legs hurt. Aren’t we there yet?’

‘Not quite, sweetheart, but it’s not much further. Remember?’

Twenty yards later Nell stopped again. ‘I can’t walk any more. Can’t we have a picnic here?’

Wes glanced at Kayla and rolled his eyes. ‘It’s not much further, Nell. Come on, where’s my strong little girl today?’

They managed another fifty yards before a plaintive, ‘I want to be carried’ was heard from the front. Kayla started to laugh.

‘Give me the bag, Wes, and you can carry Nell for a little while.’

Wes looked grateful and apologetic at the same time. ‘Are you sure you can manage? It’s quite heavy.’

‘Yes, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. I’m stronger than I look.’

‘Kayla is too nice to you,’ Wes muttered as he lifted his daughter up for a piggyback ride. ‘We’ll have to toughen you up a bit, I think.’

The rough track down to the cove was extremely steep, but there were steps cut out of the rock in the worst places and they reached it at last. Kayla was enchanted. ‘I can see why you call this a secret place,’ she said to Nell. ‘It feels like we’re completely cut off from the rest of the world.’ The tiny cove was surrounded on three sides by sheer cliffs and in front of them was the sea, shimmering in the bright light.

‘It’s even nicer in the summer,’ Wes said behind her. ‘It’s so secluded you can even go skinny-dipping and no one will see you.’ He said this in a perfectly normal voice, as if he was only giving her information about the cove and not actually thinking of skinny-dipping himself, but his eyes told a different story. Kayla felt a blush spreading over her face and down her neck. The thought of swimming naked with Wes was tantalising and one she’d do best not to dwell on.

The afternoon passed swiftly. They played games and paddled their feet in the ice-cold water, and after the generous picnic had been eaten, the two adults lay back on the blanket, replete and unable to move.

‘Come and help me collect seashells, Kayla.’

‘Let Kayla rest for a while, Nell. You go ahead by yourself,’ Wes said.

‘Okay, Daddy.’ The little girl skipped off happily towards the water. ‘But don’t be too long.’

‘No one tells you how much hard work children are before you have them,’ Wes grumbled, but he didn’t sound as if he really minded all that much.

‘I’m sure it’s worth it, at least most of the time.’ Kayla had closed her eyes and allowed the noises of the seashore to wash over her, creating a sensation of relaxation and contentment. She breathed cool sea air in deeply and absently dug her fingers into the sand next to the blanket, sieving the soft mass through them, feeling its smooth texture.

‘Yes, you’re right.’ Wes was silent for a while before continuing. ‘Kayla? I wanted to ask you something.’

‘Oh, yes?’ She turned her head and opened her eyes. He was much closer than she’d thought. His blue gaze was fastened on hers and for a long moment she felt breathless, wondering if he was thinking the same thing she was. The shushing of the waves and the whisper of the wind faded into the background and the only thing she was aware of was the man next to her. She wanted him to kiss her. Now. She inched closer, then saw him take a deep breath and turn away.

The spell was broken.

Wes cleared his throat. ‘Well, actually, I was wondering if there was any way you could stay a bit longer? I can’t seem to find any suitable girls who want to work in such an isolated place, and we work well together, don’t we?’

Kayla swallowed. ‘Er, yes. Yes, we do.’ They had worked as a team, each complementing the other, and Kayla had been surprised at how quickly she’d adapted to Wes’s methods. He was certainly a lot easier to deal with than Mike had ever been, although she’d tried not to make comparisons. Wes never ordered her to do anything or made her feel inferior. He always either asked her politely or sought her opinion as to the best way of doing something, then praised her efforts afterwards. It made her feel valued, even though she knew he was the boss.

She was surprised now by the sudden feeling of joy which swept through her at the thought of possibly staying on. It also scared the hell out of her. She was beginning to care far too much about the occupants of Marcombe Hall, and not just in a professional capacity. And she still didn’t know how much of it was Jago’s fault.

‘So will you stay? Please? You’re by far the best secretary I’ve ever had. Everyone else will seem hopeless in comparison.’ Wes tried out his most charming smile on her and Kayla felt herself weaken. Not that she was prepared to let him know he could influence her this way. That the mere sight of him made the blood in her veins fizz. He obviously didn’t feel the same or he would surely have made a move on her by now?

‘You think flattery will work, do you?’ she challenged, trying to sound stern. But she knew she probably wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all herself. The truth was she found it impossible to resist him. The rich timbre of his voice drew her in, mesmerising her, sapping her willpower, just like his rogue of an ancestor had done in the saleroom at Sotheby’s without uttering a single word. She didn’t have the strength to argue, so she capitulated with barely an inner struggle. ‘Oh, all right, why not? I guess a few more weeks can’t make much difference.’

With a supreme effort, Kayla managed a nonchalant tone, although how she did it she would never know. Then she remembered she was supposed to be employed part-time in London. ‘Er, I’ll just have to call my office in London to see if I can extend my leave of absence. And I’d better go back to my flat for a few days to collect some more clothes and things. Not to mention my course books.’

‘Great.’ Wes didn’t seem to notice her slip. His smile turned into a grin of satisfaction, which was even more devastating than the purposely charming smile, and Kayla thanked her lucky stars that she was already lying down. ‘Let’s go help Nell find some seashells, she looks a bit lonely over there by herself.’

‘Uhm, you go ahead, I’ll be with you in a minute.’ A normal activity was just what Kayla needed to take her mind off the man by her side and what his smiles did to her equilibrium, but she wanted some space to recover first. Thank goodness for Nell, she thought.

‘There you are! I was beginning to think I’d have to send out a search party.’

The voice which greeted them as they stepped into the hall made Kayla jump, and for a crazy moment she thought Jago had come to join them at Marcombe Hall somehow. The inflection was exactly the same and the rich, deep nuances of it, although the West Country burr was less pronounced. She blinked to accustom herself to the gloom inside after the brilliance of the afternoon sun. Instead of Jago, she saw a younger version of Wes standing at the bottom of the stairs. Her eyes widened. The resemblance to the man in her portrait was even stronger in this man and it gave her quite a turn.

‘Oh hell,’ she thought she heard Wes mutter from behind her. In a louder voice he said, ‘Hey, Alex. What are you doing here?’

‘Visiting, of course. What else would I be doing? Although naturally I didn’t come to see you, but the little princess.’ He held out his arms and Nell raced over to be caught and hoisted high into the air, shrieking with pleasure.

‘Uncle Alex. Eeeehh, that tickles!’

‘This is my brother,’ Wes informed Kayla in a rather non-committal tone of voice. ‘Alex, this is my temporary secretary, Kayla Sinclair.’

Alex put Nell down and came forward to shake hands. ‘Nice to meet you.’ He looked Kayla up and down and smiled in approval. Kayla noticed that Wes’s brother had inherited the killer grin, but this time it had no effect on her. It wasn’t as genuine and didn’t reach Alex’s eyes. She nodded curtly to show him she didn’t appreciate being given the once-over in such a blatant fashion.

‘I’d better go and wash some of the sand off before dinner,’ she told them, and made a quick getaway up the stairs.

At least Alex had proved one thing – the Jago charm spell didn’t work with all the males of the house. So did that mean only Wes was affecting her? Kayla wasn’t sure what to think about that.

The atmosphere during dinner was strained and Kayla struggled to make conversation with Alex while Wes ate in silence, a closed expression on his face. Kayla wondered why the two were at odds, but put it down to sibling rivalry. She knew first-hand how annoying younger brothers could be when they chose to. She had one of her own.

‘So what do you do, Mr Marcombe?’ she asked politely, then wished she hadn’t said something so trite.

‘Oh, please, call me Alex, there’s no need to be formal. As to what I do – I sell boats, yachts to be precise. A friend of mine is a boatbuilder and I help him to market them, show them off to wealthy clients, that sort of thing. With summer approaching, this is the perfect time of year to start touting for business around here. A lot of Londoners come down to the Devon coast during half-term and the holidays. I try to catch their interest with my friend’s latest boat designs, taking them out for little jaunts, that sort of thing.’

‘I see. I take it you’re a keen sailor, then?’

‘Definitely. I couldn’t imagine life without a boat or at the very least being near the sea. It’s in my blood I think. Seafaring ancestors, all that stuff.’ He went on to describe his own craft, and some of the yachts designed by his friend. They sounded very luxurious, but since Kayla didn’t know one end of a boat from the other, she just listened without venturing any opinions.

‘And what brought you to this part of the country, Kayla?’ Perhaps Alex had noticed the bemused expression in her eyes, since he changed the subject so abruptly.

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