Bought for Revenge(29)

He stepped into the couple's path and they were obliged to stop.  Annabelle was biting her lip and looking as if she was caught between  the devil and the deep sea. Lucas thought wryly that he could guess  which one of those disasters she thought him to be. But at least he was  not drunk, nor did he have lecherous intentions towards her-at least,  not at that moment-so he stepped up, intimidating the bookseller with  his superior height and weight.

Belle had not been enjoying Henry Blundell's attentions, but how she  wished it had been anyone other than Lucas who had stepped in to help  her. His being in the room was painful enough, but to have him standing  so close, his powerful presence enveloping her, brought back every hurt  he had inflicted, as well as memories of his embrace, which she found  even more agonising, knowing that it had meant nothing to him and  everything to her. She owed him nothing. If he could rid her of Mr  Blundell, then all the better, but she would not remain in his presence a  moment longer than necessary.

'Oh, right, yes. Of course.' Blundell released his fair partner and stepped back, mumbling something about misunderstanding.

Lucas ignored him. He put his hand beneath Annabelle's elbow and firmly  guided her away. He was determined to remain calm, but when she was so  close, her scent filling his head, a madness came over him, a desire for  her to realise just what she was throwing away by rejecting him. He  could not resist a warning issued in arctic tones.

'You should be more careful, Miss Havenham. Men like Blundell see women  in your situation as easy prey.' She did not reply, and when she pulled  herself out of his grip some of his icy politeness disappeared and he  rasped out, 'You should be grateful to me for rescuing you.'

Her response was low, but despite the chatter around them he heard every word.

'Do you think I can be grateful to a man who has so effectively ruined my life and that of my father?'

He flinched at her bitterness and he forgot his resolve to be coldly correct. He wanted only to strike back.

'Your father? Hah! His current situation is nothing less than he deserves.'

She stopped and swung round to face him, her eyes sparkling, cheeks flushed with anger.

'That is not true. His letter explains-'

'That damned letter was nothing more than a cowardly attempt to-'

She slapped him, hard, across the face.





Chapter Twelve


Annabelle's hand stung with the force of the blow. Her bare skin  contacting with his cheek was like a pistol shot and since the orchestra  had not yet struck up again, the sound caused those closest to them to  turn and stare. Almost immediately they were surrounded by concerned  faces.

Elias Greenwood came up, his pleasant face unusually grim and his fists clenched.

'Miss Belle, can I be of assistance?'

'Let me pass!' Sir John Rishworth pushed his way through to her.  'Madam-' his glance quickly summed up the situation '-if Blackstone has  offered you an insult-'                       
       
           



       

The crowd around them continued to grow. Mr Scanlon stepped forwards,  offering mute support, and Annabelle saw even more familiar faces ranged  about her, willing to take her side against Lucas. This was her chance.  She could denounce him, call upon them to defend her. She could ruin  Lucas's good standing with his neighbours in an instant.

Even as the angry thoughts whirled through her head she knew she could  not do it. Despite the good harvest, times were hard. Elias Greenwood  would lose his position as Lucas's foreman and possibly his farm if he  stood up for her. Nor could the townspeople afford to antagonise him.  And she could not embroil Sir John in this argument. A rift between  local landowners could only bring more misery for the whole area.

'It was nothing,' she said, making sure she spoke clearly enough for  everyone around her to hear. 'It was a jest, a silly misunderstanding,  which is now resolved.' With an effort she looked at Lucas. The angry  marks of her fingers were already showing on his cheek and she could  tell by the rapid rise and fall of his chest and the glitter in his eyes  that he was furious, but he remained silent, which was all that was  required. She turned to Sir John. 'If you will excuse me, I think I  should go home.'

'Of course. I will escort you.'

He led her away. The moment was over, but there would be others, since  nothing was resolved. Belle knew that every time she met Lucas  Blackstone there would be conflict.

Lucas watched her walk away. His cheek burned, but that was nothing to  the maelstrom of anger and self-loathing raging inside him. He deserved  flogging for taunting her so and would almost have welcomed being called  to account by Rishworth or one of her other champions. But she had not  allowed that. She knew the damage it would do. He was humbled by her  actions, while his own had not been those of a gentleman. It behoved him  to beg her pardon and he would do so. He would have to do so.

The orchestra struck up and the crowd began to move away, speculating on  the cause of the outburst. He heard the words 'lovers' tiff', and 'the  fellow must be drunk'. Let them think what they liked and be damned to  the lot of them!

'By heaven, Cousin, I never thought to see you involved in such a  fracas.' Hugh Duggan was at his side, grinning. 'What did you say to  her? It must have been outrageous to make her slap your face.'

'It was.' Lucas raked a hand through his hair. 'I am going back to Oakenroyd. Do you want to stay on here?'

Hugh clapped a hand on his shoulder.

'No, I will come with you. I have had enough excitement for one evening.'

When they arrived at Oakenroyd Lucas walked directly to the drawing room.

'Brandy?' He held up the decanter as Hugh followed him into the room.

'Please. Something on your mind, Cos?' he asked. 'You have been dashed  quiet all evening. Then that little incident with the lady … '

'Yes, as a matter of fact.' Lucas handed a glass to Hugh and carried his  own to a chair on one side of the fire. He waited until they were both  seated and even then he did not speak immediately. He kept going over  the words in his head, trying to find the best way to explain.

'You remember, Hugh, when Morwood burned down?'

'Aye, of course. How could I forget it?'

'I don't think it was an accident.'

Hugh clasped his hands around his glass and watched him. 'What makes you think that?' he said carefully.

'The fire was discovered in the drawing room, but by then the east wing  was well alight at the opposite end of the house. There was no way the  fire could have spread like that naturally.' He paused, forcing himself  to keep calm. 'I saw someone that night. Someone moving around the  outside of the house. And I saw the glow of a light. I thought nothing  of it at the time, thought it was the light from a cigar, but it could  have been a taper.' Lucas stopped again, not wanting to ask the  question, but knowing he had to do so.

'Do you think it could have been my father?' When Hugh said nothing he  continued, 'I have been trying to think. You remember there was an  almighty row that night, after we had gone up to our rooms?'

'Yes, of course. Your father had been in a black mood all day, which was  why we took ourselves off to the lake, fishing. Then Mama went up to  bed, and told us we should do the same, to get out of the way.'

'That just left three people in the dining room. My father, my mother and Samuel Havenham.'

'Miss Havenham's father?'

'Yes.' He shot a glance at his cousin. 'He was in love with my mother.'                       
       
           



       

Hugh was silent for a moment, digesting this information. 'I beg your pardon, Lucas, but I have to ask you. Were they lovers?'

Lucas shook his head. 'I think not.' He bit his lip. 'But my father was  not an easy man. You knew that, Hugh, you were there often enough to see  it. He had a terrible temper. Your mother would take herself off to her  room and we would disappear into the grounds out of the way, but Mama-'  He finished his brandy. 'She was not happy. Father had made her life a  misery. Looking back, I can see it now. Havenham urged her to go abroad  with him and that night she had decided she would do so. Do you think … ?'  He fixed his eyes upon his cousin. 'Is it possible, if my father knew  this, if he was in a rage, that he would have set fire to Morwood?'

Silence hung around them. Hugh looked down at his glass, turning it between his hands.

'You said yourself my uncle was a hard man,' he said at last. 'He was  not the sort to settle for anything less than perfection. If his wife  was unfaithful-'

'She wasn't,' said Lucas swiftly. 'I would stake my life she would not  have thought of going off with Havenham if my father had not pushed her  to it.'

'But if he couldn't have her, no one would.'

Lucas looked up. 'What made you say that?'

Hugh shrugged. 'I cannot say. I think I must have overheard Uncle Jonas say as much.'