Bought for Revenge(33)

       
           



       

He held her close, whispering her name, his body stroking hers, lifting  her spirit until she felt as if she was flying. When he stopped kissing  Her she threw back her head, gasping for air. She felt such joy, such  exhilaration she wanted to cry out. Her body was moving of its own  accord, in unison with his, and the wave inside her was building,  threatening to crest and flood her senses. Lucas gave a groan, a gasp.  Belle clung on tightly, aware of him over, around, inside her. She was  almost swooning, her body locked into a spasm of uncontrollable pleasure  as he thrust into her again and again before collapsing down beside  her, his passion spent.

Silence followed. Annabelle cradled Lucas in her arms, smoothed the dark  hair from his brow and held him until his breathing steadied. Now the  moment was over she was aware of how undignified they must look with  their clothes in such disarray. But it did not matter, it did not matter  one jot.

Until Lucas groaned and rolled away from her. 'Dear heaven, I must be more drunk than I knew.'

No gentle words of love. His tone was one of profound regret. Belle  closed her eyes, determined not to cry. Carefully she sat up and pulled  her skirts down into a more decorous position.

'What the hell did you think you were doing?' he demanded roughly, tucking in his shirt and fastening his breeches.

'I wanted to comfort you.'

His breath whistled out through his teeth. 'So to all the grievances  your father has against me is now added your seduction. Folly! Do you  not realise just what you have done?'

'I did not know how else to reach you,' she told him in a small voice.

'Oh, you reached me,' he muttered, turning to face her. 'You reached me only too well.'

The glow in his eyes and his rueful smile drove away the chill that had  been forming around her heart, but it hovered, not quite banished.  Something in his manner made her uneasy. He rose and held out his hand  to her.

'Come, make yourself tidy, and I will take you home.'

'Then what do you propose to do?'

'Do not look so anxious, my dear, I do not intend to abandon you.  Tomorrow I shall call upon your father, explain the whole, confess the  full extent of my transgressions towards him … and to you, my dear. Then I  shall set about putting things right. You shall return to Oakenroyd.  The lawyers will handle the whole, no one need know what has occurred,  save that your father has come into funds and I am restoring his former  home to him. To you.'

'And what about us, Lucas?'

She had given him her hand to pull her to her feet. Now he turned the  hand over and stared at it, running his thumb over the roughened skin.  He released her and turned away.

'There is no "us", Belle. You have every right to demand that I marry  you for what has just occurred, but you know as well as I that it would  not work. There is too much between us that cannot be put right.'

Belle stared at his back. 'You d-do not want me.'

With an anguished growl he swung round. 'Want? Of course I-' Exhaling,  he looked up as if searching for a solution in the dark shadows above  them, then he reached out for her. He took her hands and looked at them,  saying softly, 'My dear, do you not see how impossible this is? You  should hate me for all I have done to you and your father. I hate myself  for it, but it is more than that. My family name is ruined. By his  heinous act my father has destroyed any hope I had of happiness.' He  added quickly, anticipating her response, 'And before you tell me that  it does not matter, that no one knows, it does matter, because I know of  it and I cannot, will not allow you to share my shame.'

He looked at her then, the pain in his black eyes so angry, so deep it  sliced into her heart like a knife. She clung to his hands.

'Lucas, let me help you-'

'No.' There was a finality in his voice that silenced her. 'No one can  help me, especially not you, Belle. I have my father's quick temper. I  know now that it destroyed him and everything he held dear. I will not  risk the same thing happening to you.'

'But I don't believe-'

'It is not a question of what you believe, it is what I know.'

'But you have been wrong before,' she challenged him. 'There may be some other explanation.'

'I think you are clutching at straws, my dear.' He picked up her cloak and put it around her shoulders. 'How did you get here?'

'In the gig we hired to take us to Rishworth Lodge. It is in the stable yard.'

'Who knows you are here?'

'Only Clegg. He heard me arrive and is looking after the horse.'                       
       
           



       

'Good. We can trust him to say nothing. I'll have him saddle Sultan and  tie him to the back of the gig. I am going to drive you home.'

Silently Belle fastened the strings of her cloak. Her hands shook a  little but she managed. Everything had taken on an unreal quality, as if  she was in some dream from which she would wake up very soon. Lucas put  his hand in the small of her back to move her towards the door, but she  resisted him. One last attempt.

'What if … what if there is a child from, from what we have done? Will you not marry me then?'

Lucas closed his eyes. Marriage. If only he could take her as his wife,  but it would not work. The bitter memories he had shut out for so long  rose up again to taunt him, the sadness in his mother's eyes when she  looked at his father. There had been fear there, too. Why had he not  recognised it at the time? He would not risk hurting Belle like that,  nor any child she might be carrying. And to give them a tainted name,  how could that make things any better?

'I will do all that I can to protect you, Belle. Neither you nor your  child would want for anything, but marriage-no. You would come to hate  me.'

'But-'

'Enough,' he broke in roughly. 'It is time to go.'

The cold chill returned at his implacable tone. She had given herself to him and he was turning her away.

Foolish Annabelle. It was your choice, now you must pay for it.

She moved towards the door, but stopped suddenly. 'Lucas.' She raised  her hand and pointed. Lying on a small table beside the door was a  pistol, the long barrel gleaming dully in the dim light. 'Oh heavens,  Lucas, were you-?'

Her voice trailed off and she looked up at him, aghast.

'What?' He glanced towards the little table. 'Oh, that. It is my  cousin's, he was showing it to me before he went out and must have left  it lying there. Damned careless of him.' He frowned at her. 'Did you  think I was contemplating blowing my brains out? That is not my way,  believe me.'

He escorted her out of the room and Belle kept her eyes firmly away from the wicked-looking pistol as she went past it.

The moon had almost set and there was barely enough light to see the  road as Lucas drove the gig into Stanton. Annabelle was silent beside  him, her thoughts dulled by everything that had occurred. He pulled up a  little before the turning to the livery stable.

'You had best return the gig,' he said. 'I will wait for you here and walk you home.'

Without a word she took the reins and when he had jumped down and  unfastened Sultan, she drove the gig into the livery yard and handed it  over to a sleepy stable hand.

Lucas was waiting for her when she returned to the High Street, the  solid shape of his horse standing silently behind him. Nothing else  moved and she was glad of his escort for the short distance to Croft  Cottage.

'You are coming to see my father tomorrow.'

'Yes.'

'He will forgive you,' she said confidently. 'He will tell you not to be so hard on yourself.'

'After all I have done, especially the harm I have done to you?' Lucas  shook his head. 'I doubt it.' He stopped at the door of Croft Cottage.

'Do not knock,' she whispered as he raised his hand. 'I have a key.'

'Very well.' He turned to her. The lamp beside the door was behind him,  and his face was in deep shadow. 'Until tomorrow. I shall insist upon  seeing your father alone.'

'Of course. You will tell him what happened this evening?'

'I must.'

'And if … ' She stopped to run her tongue nervously across her lips. 'If he should insist upon you marrying me?'

'He won't.'

With a nod he left her. Annabelle watched him scramble into the saddle  and ride away before she let herself quietly into the house.

Annabelle was not looking forward to seeing her father the following  morning, but it could not be put off. Abel had been dozing in the chair  when she had let herself into the house and would be sure to tell his  master that she had not come home until almost dawn, so some explanation  would be required. Samuel had been both father and mother to her as she  grew up and they had always been very close. They had agreed there  should be no secrets between them, but even so it would be difficult to  confess to him the enormity of her actions, yet she was determined that  he should not learn of it from Lucas.

As soon as her father came downstairs she followed him into his study.  The interview that followed was both difficult and painful, but Belle  was determined to lay before her father everything that had occurred at  Oakenroyd last night and to impress upon him that her visit there had  been entirely her own idea. No blame should fall upon Lucas for what  followed.