Bought for Revenge(22)

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.