‘You can say that, after what he has done? Besides, I want those documents!’
She read murder in his eyes, but would not step aside.
‘I would have justice, but not your way. You know as well as I that the papers he has are worthless. They were signed under duress, you
do not need to fight him to get them back.’ He did not move. She could feel the tension in him. Every muscle, every sinew was hard and inflexible. He was like some terrible, avenging deity. She raised her hands and cupped his face, saying softly, ‘Please, Lucas, no more vengeance.’
Time stopped while she waited for his response. Every fibre of her being was willing him to give in. Beneath her hands, his jaw was clenched hard and she could feel the muscle working in his cheek. She knew his temper, but he could master it. She had to believe that, or there could be no future for them.
Like a silent sigh the rigidity left him; the implacable look in his eyes was replaced by something softer. He raised his head.
‘George, inform Sir John of all that has gone on here. Tell him he will most likely find Duggan at the Red Lion. And retrieve my Manton if you can!’ He turned back to Annabelle. ‘I shall take Miss Havenham to her father.’
The tiny whisper of hope in Belle’s heart burst into full song as she took his hand. She did not speak. She knew he would see the happiness shining in her eyes when he looked at her.
‘I am taking you home.’ Lucas gave Belle a fleeting smile as he helped her into the curricle. ‘To Oakenroyd.’
‘But my father—’
‘He’s waiting for you there, Miss Belle,’ said Clegg, scrambling up into the rumble seat. ‘Mr Blackstone instructed me to take him and Abel to Oakenroyd before I came on here to join the others.’
Lucas said gruffly, ‘I could not bear to think of him living in that cottage another minute, so I invited him to return to his home.’
Belle squeezed his arm. ‘Oh, Lucas, thank you.’
‘You have no need to thank me. Samuel would never have consented to move if I hadn’t persuaded him that we could better look after you there.’
She bridled at that. ‘I do not need looking after!’
They were about to move off, but Lucas delayed, controlling his restless team with one hand while with the other he pulled Belle to him and kissed her, hard, regardless of the groom sitting behind them.
‘I intend to look after you for the rest of your life, madam, whether you need it or not.’
Already shaken from her ordeal, Belle could not pull away. She remained passively within the circle of his arm, gazing up at him. The moonlight shadowed his face, but she could feel the power of his glance burning into her. His arm tightened.
‘Agreed?’ he demanded.
‘Agreed, Lucas,’ she replied meekly.
‘Good.’ He released her and took up the reins again. ‘Now. Let us go and see your father.’
T
he half-moon had dropped to the west but it was still light enough for Lucas to drive his team at a cracking pace. Annabelle sat quietly beside him, the cold night air keeping sleep at bay. So many thoughts raced through her mind that she could make no sense of any of it.
When they arrived at Oakenroyd they found the house blazing with light. Lucas helped her down and escorted her to the front door where Gibson was waiting.
‘Welcome home, Miss Havenham.’ The butler beamed at her as he ushered her into the house. ‘You will find Mr Havenham waiting for you in the drawing room. He refused to retire until he had seen you.’
Lucas took her arm and as they crossed the hall the housekeeper came bustling out of the
shadows. After the briefest of curtsies to Lucas she launched herself into speech.
‘Oh, Miss Havenham, it is so
good
to see you here once more. Your old room is ready for you, and the master’s—Mr Havenham, I
should
say—and I have taken wine and cakes into the drawing room, in case you are hungry, but I will fetch you a hot chocolate if you would prefer, or tea…’
‘Thank you, Mrs Wicklow, wine will be very good.’ Belle smiled at her and as the housekeeper turned away she saw her lift her apron to wipe away a rogue tear.
Lucas put his hand over her fingers where they rested on his sleeve. ‘You have been missed,’ he said quietly.
‘But I do not understand. Have you told them that you are making the house over?’
‘Not a word.’
‘Then…how do they know?’
He smiled down at her, the glow in his eyes setting her pulse racing. ‘Servants always know.’ He squeezed her fingers briefly as they entered the drawing room. Samuel rose as the door opened and Belle flew across the room and into his arms, laughing and crying at once.
It took a considerable time to explain everything to Samuel. Belle sat beside him on the sofa
while Lucas stood before the fire and told him all that had occurred that evening.
‘So it has all ended well,’ said Samuel, when he had finished.
‘Well, almost, sir,’ said Lucas. ‘My only concern is the property and the loans I signed over to Duggan. I know he used threats to obtain the signatures, but if he should contest that and Strutt should back him up…Unlikely, perhaps, but everything could become bound up in the courts for years.’ He looked up. ‘I cannot lie to you, sir. Most of my capital is tied up in the properties. If I lose them I shall have some money left, not a great fortune, perhaps, but sufficient to look after you and your daughter.’
‘I am sure we shall come about,’ said Samuel gently.
‘But you may still lose Oakenroyd,’ said Lucas. ‘At least in the short term.’
‘We can always go back to Croft Cottage,’ put in Belle.
Lucas smiled. ‘No, it won’t come to that, I promise you.’
‘I think you are worrying unnecessarily,’ said Samuel. ‘For my part I think we have a great deal to be thankful for. I am relieved to learn that Jonas was not responsible for the fire at Morwood. As you must be, my boy, although I am sorry you had to discover it in such unpleasant
circumstances. But more than that, I cannot express my gratitude to you for bringing Annabelle back safely to me.’
Lucas’s face darkened. He rested one arm on the mantelpiece and stared down into the fire. ‘You have nothing to be grateful for, sir,’ he said curtly. ‘On the contrary. If I had not been such a crass fool none of this would have occurred—’
‘But sometimes God likes to test us with adversity.’ Samuel shook his head at him, smiling. ‘I know you will not agree with that, Lucas, but you must allow an old man his beliefs.’
‘I will allow you anything, sir, if you can forgive me—’ He broke off, his jaw working as he considered his next words. ‘But, can you forgive me enough to change your mind and allow me to marry your daughter?’ He looked at Samuel, such uncertainty in his eyes that Belle’s heart turned over. ‘I have learned a great deal tonight, sir. Not only about my father, but also about myself. I know I have no right to ask it, but if you would consent, I believe I could be a good husband to her. I will see to it that she wants for nothing.’
‘We know you have money enough,’ said Samuel, gently, ‘but is that all, Lucas?’
‘If you mean do I love her, sir, then, yes. With all my heart.’
Belle caught her breath. She felt her father’s
eyes upon her and turned to look at him, hoping he could read the silent appeal in her own. With a smile he patted her hands before responding.
‘My dear boy, if ever a knight deserved to win his maid it is you. If Belle loves you, then I will gladly give my consent.’
Belle gave a little sob. ‘I do, Papa! You know—’
He held up his hand. ‘No, no, I am not the one you have to tell, my love.’ He pushed himself to his feet. ‘It has been a long day, and if you will excuse me I shall go to bed.’ He turned to Belle, who had risen with him, and took her hands. ‘My child, you know how dearly I loved his mother. If you love Lucas only half as much, then you should marry him and with my blessing.’ He kissed her cheek and made his way slowly out of the room.
Belle stood with her hands clasped, looking at the closed door. She was very much aware that Lucas was watching her. Only the crackle of the fire disturbed the silence.
‘So,’ he said at last, ‘I have your father’s permission to address you.’ When she did not reply, he continued. ‘I believe I even have his blessing to do so. Not that you should let that influence your decision. For it
is
your decision, Belle. Having put my cousin into the hands of the law it may not be possible for me to make Oakenroyd
over to your father for a while, but I shall set up an annuity for him immediately, enough to keep you both. You will be independent again. There is no need for you to marry anyone, unless you really want to do so.’
Silently Annabelle sank back on to the sofa. She looked about the room. Everything was as she remembered it. This had been her home and might well be again, but it would never be the same. Adversity had taught her to appreciate the comfort and luxury of Oakenroyd, but not to take it for granted.
Lucas dropped on to one knee before her and reached for her hands.
‘I asked you once before to marry me,’ he said. ‘Then it was for all the wrong reasons and you turned me down. I am asking you now, my love, to accept my hand in marriage and this time I hope I am asking you for all the
right
reasons. Because I love you, because I want to make you happy. I want to honour, cherish and protect you all the days of your life.’ He looked down at her fingers clasped in his own. ‘And lastly because my life will be so damnably empty if you are not in it.’ She waited for him to continue and heard the note of tension in his voice when he spoke again. ‘So I lay everything I have at your feet, Belle, and beg you to make your choice. If you say yes, you will make me the happiest man in
the world, but if…if this is not what you want, then you only have to say and I shall importune you no more.’
‘Can you do that? Can you really leave the decision to me, and if I say no you will leave me alone, for ever?’
‘You have my word on it.’
Gently she disengaged her hands and got up. She began to walk slowly about the room. ‘You see,’ she said, ‘I think that, deep down, I am even more unforgiving than you, because I have known for many months now that I love you, and when you and my father decided between you that it would be best that we did not see each other again I found myself railing against it quite, quite
violently.’
She came back to stand before him, looking down into his face. ‘What your father did, or did not do, was of no interest to me. I could never bring myself to believe that you would hurt me, despite what had happened and I
raged
against your decision not to marry me. I swore I would never forgive you for that.’
‘And now?’ He was looking up at her, his eyes dark and wary, afraid to hope.
‘Now,’ she said, her lip trembling, ‘now I would think myself the luckiest woman alive if I could be your wife.’
When she saw the joy in his eyes she could no longer hold back her smile, but it was smothered
when he jumped up and dragged her to him, kissing her so savagely that for a while she could think of nothing but the sheer pleasure of being in his arms.
When Belle at last came to her senses she was half-sitting, half-lying on the sofa with Lucas’s arm around her. He had discarded his neckcloth and the top buttons of his shirt were open, while the pins had fallen from her hair, allowing it to tumble over her shoulders.
‘I do not deserve such happiness,’ he murmured between kisses. ‘How soon will you marry me?’
‘As soon as you like.’
‘Then we will have the banns called immediately. I am all too aware that I have already compromised you.’
She smiled up at him. ‘You did not compromise me,’ she said softly, touching his cheek. ‘I gave myself willingly. To comfort you.’
Without thinking she slipped her hand into the neck opening of his shirt and traced the hard, muscled contours of his breast. The crisp hair curled around her fingers. He clapped his hand over hers.
‘Careful,’ he growled. ‘Or you will have to comfort me all over again.’
She blushed, but continued to run her hand over his skin, giving him a provocative smile.
With a sound between a groan and a laugh he sat up.
‘Shall we continue this upstairs?’
Taking her silence for assent he swept her up into his arms. Smiling, she slipped her hands about his neck, but felt obliged to protest as he carried her out of the room.
‘Lucas, the servants!’ she hissed, casting an anxious look around her, but the hallway and stairs were deserted. A few dim lamps were burning, giving sufficient light for Lucas to see his way up the stairs.
‘Your room or mine?’ he whispered, nuzzling her ear and making her wriggle with pleasurable longing in his arms. ‘I gave instructions before I went out for my things to be moved to the blue bedchamber, so that your father could have his old room.’
‘I have never slept in the blue chamber,’ she murmured.
He gave her a wicked grin. ‘I was not proposing that we
sleep
there tonight, my love.’
He carried her along the corridor to his bedroom where the fire had been banked up and was blazing merrily. He set her down gently on the bed and she watched, fascinated, as he undressed. Belle’s throat dried when she saw his body, golden in the firelight, shadows playing over the corded muscles of his shoulders.
‘Come,’ he said. ‘Let us get you out of your clothes.’
She slid off the bed and pulled off her gown, but any thoughts of hastily shedding the rest of her garments were soon dispelled. Lucas moved behind her and slowly, oh, so slowly, began to unlace her stays. She felt the vibration against her body as he pulled the ribbons free and when she put back her head he fastened his mouth on the smooth slope of her shoulder, nibbling his way along to her neck. She leaned against him and was almost moaning aloud by the time the corset was finally removed. He pulled her to him, his chest hard against her back and only the thin chemise between them. He slipped his hands under that last flimsy defence and cupped her breasts, working his magic on them with the thumb and finger of each hand.
Unable to bear any more she turned, reaching for him, but with a laugh he gathered up her chemise and lifted it over her head. Obligingly she reached up, but instead of pulling it free he imprisoned her arms in its folds while his head came down to wreak more havoc on her breasts, suckling one then the other until her whole body was pulsing with excitement. At last he released her and lifted her on to the bed. He stretched out beside her, raising himself on one elbow and with his free hand he traced a figure of eight around
her breasts, then moved down to circle her navel. He began to lay a series of kisses across the soft skin of her belly. Her hips began to move restlessly as desire unfurled deep inside. She reached for him, but he evaded her.
‘Patience,’ he murmured.
Lucas pulled out a pillow and placed it beneath her hips. He took one stockinged foot in his hands. Belle shivered at the touch of his fingers on her ankle. He untied her garter and began to roll the stocking down, pausing frequently to plant kisses on the bared skin. The silk slid away with a whisper and he ran his hand from calf to the ankle, lifting her foot high to kiss it. He repeated the action with the other stocking, but this time, once he had finished, his mouth trailed back along her leg, licking and kissing her skin until she was tingling with anticipation.
He began to stroke the soft mound at the hinge of her thighs, his fingers smoothing over the dark curls while his thumb dipped towards the opening beneath. The cushion was holding up her hips, presenting her to him. She could not pull away from that teasing thumb as it circled and pressed the delicate skin, exciting her until she thought she would swoon with the pleasure of it. She gasped when his mouth moved over her, replacing the thumb. His tongue flickered in and
out, lapping at her very core and rousing in her such delight as she had not known possible.
Belle groaned and moved restlessly beneath the onslaught, opening herself to his touch. She had never known such sensations—her body was throbbing, she wanted to pull away, yet at the same time she wanted him to go further, deeper. As if he had read her thoughts, his fingers began to stroke her again, even as his mouth worked its magic, until she was bucking wildly with the combined pleasuring. Ecstasy convulsed her. She gasped, her hands pulling at his shoulders and at last he released her, but only long enough to slide up her body, covering her mouth with his own while he slipped into her. She could taste herself in his kiss, feel him moving deep inside her and the heady exhilaration of their union sent her soul flying. She cried out, her fingers digging into his skin as he carried her with him to the explosive culmination of pleasure. His arms tightened, he held her close as her world fractured and they fell together into oblivion.
The sun was shining on her. Annabelle slowly opened her eyes. She was in her own room at Oakenroyd, but the curtains had not been drawn around the bed, nor had the curtains been pulled across the window and now the low morning sun was shining directly on to her. She turned
away from the light. She had been having such a lovely dream about Lucas.