Elias shrugged. 'I weren't taking that much notice, but I think he went into Home Wood.'
With a nod and a smile she turned Apollo and cantered off across the park. The shade of the trees would be a welcome relief from the hot sun, but as she rode along the new carriageway Belle realised she had no idea where in the wood Lucas might be. She halted and remained very still, straining her ears listening for any sounds of woodcutting, but everything was silent. Sitting very straight in the saddle, she squared her shoulders. She had come this far, she would find Lucas now, and she would talk to him. She made first for the lake and felt a little spurt of satisfaction when she spotted Sultan quietly cropping grass by the old bridge. There was no sign of Lucas. Her gaze shifted to the lake, where something was disturbing the mirrored surface. Someone was in the water and moving steadily towards the boathouse.
Annabelle slipped to the ground and loosely tethered Apollo beside The dilapidated bridge. She crossed it carefully, holding her breath until she was safely on the far bank. The swimmer was still cutting through the water, so she made her way to the boathouse. It had to be Lucas, she told herself. No one else would dare to be here.
She was at the foot of the boathouse steps just as he reached the bank. He looked up then and saw her.
'What in hell's name are you doing here?'
She put up her chin, hoping she would sound braver than she felt. 'I came to see you.'
He raised his brows, then he put his hands on the bank and hauled himself out of the water. 'Well, now you can see me.'
Belle gasped. It had not occurred to her that he would be naked. He stood before her, black hair plastered to his head and his body glistening in the sunlight.
Poseidon, she thought wildly. Poseidon rising from the ocean.
She swallowed, her eyes taking in every inch of that muscled body, the powerful shoulders, the shadow of dark hair across his chest that tapered down to-
She forced herself to look away. 'Th-that is not what I meant.' Despite her efforts to sound calm her voice shook.
'No, I thought not.'
He began to walk up the stone stairs. Belle followed him, keeping her eyes on the steps, where his bare feet left a wet imprint.
'I wanted to talk to you,' she said.
'Did your father send you to plead with me?'
'No!'
He disappeared through the door at the top of the stairs. Belle hesitated, but when she saw him pick up a towel and wrap it around his waist she summoned up her courage and stepped into the room. It looked different to the way she remembered. Cleaner. As if someone had taken a broom to it.
'No,' she said again. 'I came because I wanted to understand.'
'I thought I had explained myself perfectly clearly.'
'You blame my father for the fire at Morwood.'
'I blame him for the death of my parents.'
'He did not do it.'
'How do you know? You were not even born then!'
'Papa told me, and he would not lie.'
He glared at her, then picked up another towel and began to rub his head. 'Go away, Miss Havenham. You will only compromise yourself by being here.'
'I thought … ' She clasped her hands, squeezing until her knuckles gleamed white, forcing out the words. 'I thought we were friends.'
'How could we ever be that?'
'No. Of course not.' There was a constriction in her throat and she swallowed to remove it so she could continue. 'Was it all a trick, then? A ruse to get closer to my father?'
'Yes. No! Console yourself with the fact that I would have spared you this if I could. It is your father I want to punish, not you.'
Her hands crept up to her cheeks. She closed her eyes. 'If you foreclose, then you may well kill him.'
'An eye for an eye, madam. Your father is a good church man. He will understand that.'
'How can you be so cold about ruining a man's life?'
He cursed beneath his breath and turned, slamming one fist upon the small table beside him.
'I have had years to think about it, madam. Five-and-twenty years, in fact. This gives me no pleasure, but I will have justice done!'
She met his eyes and saw so much anger and pain in them it frightened her more than his physical presence. She began to back away. His lip curled.
'Aye, you'd be wise to remove yourself from here, Miss Havenham. Being alone with a naked man will do your reputation no good at all.'
'I will go.' She bit her lip. 'But first, I want you to tell me-did you … did you deliberately set out to trap Papa at Harrogate? Did you trick him into playing cards?'
His brows drew together. 'No, of course not.' When she did not move or speak he continued, 'I lived very modestly while I was in the army. The little that was left from the sale of Morwood was invested for me, and added to that was a small inheritance from the elderly relatives who had taken me in, so when I sold out I set people on to find out all I could about Samuel Havenham and I instructed my lawyers to buy up his debts. The mortgage was a piece of good fortune, since the amount outstanding far exceeds the value of the property. Then I learned Samuel had lost a great deal of money at the gaming tables, so I bought up his notes of hand. There, now you have it. You may hate me for what I am doing, Miss Havenham, but I am no scoundrel. I used no stratagems to trap your father, he did that himself. Now, will you go and leave me in peace?' His hands moved to the towel at his waist. 'Or perhaps you would like to finish what we started at the assembly?'
His barb hit home. Belle felt hot tears cramming her throat and she turned and fled, his savage laughter following her down the stairs.
'I am leaving Stanton tomorrow and shall not be back until September.'
Lucas was at Morwood with Elias Greenwood. He did not doubt the man would be glad to see the back of him for a while. He had been spending far too much time at the manor over the past few days, working like a demon to rid himself of the image of Annabelle's horror-stricken face during that last meeting at Oakenroyd. Then, when he thought he had at last buried the memory she had turned up at the lake, her sweet innocence pricking, nay, stabbing at his conscience. Now he shrugged himself into his coat as he issued final instructions to Elias.
'I think we have covered everything, but if you have any problems you can write to me at Mr Powell's office in London. You have his address?'
'Aye, sir.'
'Very well.' He mounted Sultan and took a last look at the house encased in its cage of scaffolding. 'I hope to see a great deal of progress upon my return.'
'Aye, that you will, sir,' said Elias, grinning up at him. 'As long as the weather don't slow us up too much.'
Lucas rode back to the Red Lion. George would have everything packed up in readiness for an early start in the morning. One more dinner in Stanton and he would be off. He had business with his lawyers in London and invitations from friends that could not be ignored. He would spend the summer in Brighton, there was always plenty to occupy him there, and of course there was a visit to a discreet little house in Downing Street that must be paid. he turned his thoughts to the ripe young beauty waiting for him there.
He had met Nancy soon after he left the army. Arriving in London in the aftermath of Waterloo, he learned from Mr Powell that the small sum he had left with him fifteen years ago when he had first joined up had grown into a considerable fortune. Nancy had been only too willing to help him spend it and he had set her up as his mistress with her own apartment and a generous allowance. But he had no illusions about her fidelity. Nancy was fond of him, but only as long as he had money to spend on her and he was well aware that during his long absence she would have been taking presents from other men in return for her favours. Even when he had been in town on leave she had been unwilling or unable to remain faithful.
Lucas was surprised how little he cared. It was time he paid her off. After all he would not be spending much time in London in the future. A diamond bracelet should be sufficient. And he would tell Powell to pay her rent until the end of the summer. That should give her time to find another protector.
Unbidden, the image of Annabelle rose in his mind. Would she, too, have found a man to protect her by the time he returned? He had done his best to put a spoke in that wheel, by making it known that she had no fortune. It had certainly discouraged Keighley, and surely no man would be tempted to take her to wife without a dowry, would they?
He remembered how she had felt in his arms, soft, pliant, eagerly returning his kisses. A man might well forgo a dowry for such a partner. Angrily he thrust away the thought and dug his heels into Sultan's flanks. The horse bucked a little, indignant at being so roughly treated, but soon settled into his long stride and Lucas forced himself to concentrate on keeping Sultan steady and looking out for rabbit holes as he rode back to the inn, where he found George Stebbing waiting for him.