Authors: Helen Dickson
He would have to tell her about Victoria, he knew that, but now he had started to feel that emotional bond, he was afraid the revelation that he had a daughter could put their newfound happiness at risk, which was why he had withheld telling her.
His eyes sought his wife’s. Her expression was quizzical, puzzled and expectant. How did he tell her about Victoria? And how did he do it in a way that would shield Caroline’s reputation
and
Victoria’s? Surprisingly, she raised an eyebrow and gave him a smile. Zack realised she was giving him a reprieve, that she was avoiding the issue of Caroline for the present.
* * *
Shona wanted desperately to know about Caroline Donnington—and who was Victoria?—for Zack to reassure her that there was nothing to substantiate her jealous imaginings, but for the time being she would hold back. She hesitated for a split second before she smiled. The appearance of these two had taken her by surprise. If she had been forewarned, if she’d had time to think about her reaction to Miranda’s thoughtless remark, she might have prepared and rehearsed a gracious set down. But she could not bring herself to be clumsily rude to this overwhelmingly lovely woman.
‘I’m very happy to make your acquaintance...’ Shona paused, not knowing how to address her.
Miranda’s body seemed to relax and her expression to soften. ‘Please call me Miranda—and welcome to the family. I’m already looking forward to getting to know you. You are my sister-in-law and I do hope it will make us friends.’ She cocked her head to one side. ‘You really are very pretty, Shona.’
‘Miranda!’ her husband admonished.
‘Well, she is quite lovely, Harry. And I don’t see why it isn’t good manners to say so.’
‘Thank you for the compliment,’ Shona said, her throat unexpectedly tightening with emotion. She had never expected to be welcomed so warmly. ‘And even if it isn’t proper to say so on such short acquaintance, I think you are very pretty, too.’
‘Have the children accompanied you to London?’ Zack enquired.
Miranda shook her head. ‘Harry and I had already arranged to come to town when your sisters arrived with their offspring. Our brood were quite put out at the mere thought of leaving their cousins and the fun to be had so we left them in the care of nannies and nurses.’
‘Was Santamaria your home?’ Harry enquired of Shona, curious about this young woman who had suddenly become a member of his family.
‘Yes,’ Shona answered, telling him a little of her island home, a neutral subject she was happy to discuss.
‘And have you been in England long?’ Miranda asked.
‘Over two weeks,’ she said, thinking how different this kind and vivacious woman was to acid-tongued Carmelita, ‘although my father sent me to England for my education.’
‘So you are staying with Zack?’
‘Shona is residing with her aunt, Lady Franklyn, at present,’ Zack explained, sensing Shona’s apprehension and coming to her rescue. ‘She will move in here with me as soon as the house is ready.’
‘Which shouldn’t be too long by the look of things,’ Harry remarked, casting an approving look about him before settling his gaze on Shona. ‘If we seem surprised, that’s because we are. This sea-roving brother of mine gave us no indication that he was to wed. But I see he has excellent judgement.’ Harry was not about to let his brother escape without an explanation. ‘I’m surprised you married without telling us.’
It was an enquiry, Zack knew, but still a request for an explanation, but the débâcle that had preceded his marriage to Shona and his own dishonesty would remain between Shona and himself. He laughed to conceal his unease. ‘Shona and I came together through the efforts of her brother—who just happens to be the owner of the small island of Santamaria. He wanted Shona and I to get to know each other and threatened me with dire consequences if I refused him. He is what you would call a matchmaker of sorts. A very wilful gentleman.’ His face was expressionless as he regarded Shona for a moment, then a small, one-sided smile appeared. ‘Is that not so, Shona?’
Shona met his gaze. He told no lie, yet made it all seem so completely proper, saving her the pain of having them know the more embarrassing facts. She smiled at him, pleased with his answer. ‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘My brother can be very persuasive.’
‘Now if you don’t mind,’ Zack said, hoping to forestall an embarrassing barrage of questions, ‘I was on the point of taking her home. You are welcome to stay and see the house—Jessen will be more than happy to show you around.’
‘Thank you, we’d love to,’ Miranda said, unable to hide her excited curiosity at this, her brother-in-law’s first house. ‘But make sure you bring Shona to visit us soon, Zack. In fact, I insist that you both accompany us to the theatre tomorrow night. It will give us a chance to get to know her.’
Zack hesitated until he saw Shona’s wide-eyed look of eagerness. He accepted the invitation graciously.
‘I shall look forward to it,’ Shona said with a gentle smile, her mind whirling with worrying doubts and hopeless questions about Zack’s true relationship to Caroline Donnington as he escorted her out of the house and into the carriage.
And who was Victoria?
* * *
Seated behind the groom for the short drive to her aunt’s house, Shona turned and looked at Zack, and what surprised her was the look in his eyes. He was gazing at her with the same tender light that she had seen when she had lain in his arms. It warmed her to have him looking at her so.
‘Miranda was right. You really are very lovely, Shona.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, his husky tone vibrating through her, warming her. ‘Although I hadn’t expected to meet your family at this time.’
‘I know and I apologise for any awkwardness you might have felt. But they genuinely like you. I have no doubt that Harry will grill me for information about how we came to wed later.’
‘What will you tell him?’
‘Only as much as you and I agree upon—that we met, were attracted to one another and were married. If he finds it strange that we didn’t travel to England together, I shall explain there were reasons why you were unable to leave Santamaria—perhaps the imminent arrival of your brother’s first offspring will suffice to satisfy their curiosity. What about your aunt? Did she question you?’
‘Yes, she found the whole situation rather amusing—which is typical of her—but you can count on her discretion.’ She swallowed, her voice suddenly deserting her as she gazed into his eyes. She felt herself being drawn into his gaze, into the vital, rugged aura that was so much a part of him. Being this close to him was having a strange effect on her senses once more. She was acutely aware of him as a man, of his heat, his power, his strength. ‘I’m going to miss you,’ she whispered. ‘Do we have to be apart now?’
‘I hate the thought of it as much as you do. I’ll speak to Harry about you moving in with me. It won’t be for long, I promise you.’ He ensnared her gaze through the warm glow of the sunlight shining through the windows and carefully probed those dark green, lustrous orbs as a slow smile curved his lips. ‘You’ve awakened emotions within me that I was sure I was incapable of feeling until we became reacquainted—some of which I’m greatly appreciative, others I’m still trying to restrain.’
Shona peered at him obliquely. ‘And what are they?’
Zack’s eyes narrowed and his lips curved in a smile. ‘Oh, I shan’t divulge that bit of knowledge just yet. I must plumb the depth of the matter more fully before I give that power over into your hands.’
‘Don’t tease, Zack,’ she accused softly. ‘I’ve done nothing, yet you would have me believe I’ve influenced you in some mysterious way. I think you’re teasing me.’
A soft chuckle escaped his lips. ‘I see you’re not easily taken in, Shona, but can you not understand what a man like myself experiences in the presence of such a beautiful woman? But no need to fear. As much as I’d enjoy making love to you right now, I shall have to control my lusts. However, I hope in time—when we move into our new home together, or you join me in my brother’s house—that you’ll prove as receptive to my attentions as you were earlier.’
Shona could feel her cheeks warming as she met those smiling silver-grey eyes. The warmth shining in those translucent depths was unmistakable. ‘You seem terribly sure of yourself, Zack.’
‘As sure as I can be. During the time I spent at sea, I became familiar with the skills of keeping my vessels afloat—be it battle against the weather or miscreants trying to board or sink me. There is also an art to the intimacy a man and woman can share together. I’ve come to realise after today that I won’t be content until we are living together as man and wife.’ His eyes lowered to her face as he traced the outline of her delectable mouth, still slightly swollen and soft from his kisses. ‘You’re like a potent wine that has gone to my head. I’ve never desired another woman as much as I’ve come to desire you since I first set eyes on you. You must know that by now.’
As the carriage came to a halt, having reached its destination, he took her hand and raised it to his lips. His expression became grave and his gaze intensified. ‘Shona, I need to talk to you.’
Disturbed by his touch, Shona gazed at his hand holding hers—a strong, brown hand that had power to control a wildly plunging ship, yet could be gentle and caressing and arousing...arousing not just for herself, but for Lady Caroline Donnington...and someone named Victoria. All these glorious days they had been together there had been no mention of either of these women and she wanted desperately to know, for Zack to tell her what he was holding back.
Taking a deep breath, summoning her courage, she said, ‘Is it about Lady Donnington?’
His expression was wary and oddly grim. ‘Partly.’
‘Zack? Tell me. What is it?’ She watched him, waiting expectantly for him to say more. Instead he looked away, avoiding her gaze. The door to the house opened and her aunt appeared in the doorway and waved.
‘We can’t discuss it here—not now.’
‘When can we discuss it?’ she asked quietly.
When Augusta began walking towards the carriage, he bent his head and lightly kissed her lips. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow evening when I call to take you to the theatre. We’ll talk after that. I promise.’
Chapter Ten
S
hona was relieved when she found the opportunity to escape to her room, grateful to have some time to herself. She settled back into the steaming water of her bath with a deep sigh of appreciation. She lifted a large sponge and dribbled water over her breasts, memories of the moments spent in carnal union with Zack swimming provocatively through her mind. The impressions were so overpowering and vivid that they rekindled fires that burned her from within.
Her eyes drifted closed and she could almost feel his large body moving upon hers, his hardened chest teasing her breasts and his harsh gasps filling her mind. She remembered how he had kissed her with such leisurely expertise, how her head had spun with the intoxicating male taste of him and the passion in his kiss which had robbed her of her senses, her pulse throbbing under his deft touch.
A long, trembling sigh slipped from her lips as she luxuriated in the sensations that flooded through her, making her realise just how deeply she had been affected by their union and the bliss she had found within it. For one sinful moment she longed for him again, to have his arms around her right then. She could not believe that she had sought to proceed with the annulment of their marriage upon her arrival in London—with pride part of the equation, to be the mistress of her own destiny, never to let him have control of her—only to find her control leaking away under his seduction and that she had surrendered to him of her own free will.
She was his, whether she wanted to admit it or not.
* * *
It was a pleasant day for March, fine and mild, and the park was crowded. Shona accompanied her aunt in the carriage, finding herself involved in more than a few delightful chats with Aunt Augusta’s friends and acquaintances whom they had encountered. Their discussions ranged anywhere from passing comments on the balmy March weather to light-hearted observations on the various entertainments being performed at London’s theatres. With her evening with Zack to look forward to, Shona was feeling light-hearted and sublimely happy—until she looked ahead in time to see a familiar black carriage and four splendid black horses roll to a halt.
Her heart did a somersault and she was about to raise her hand and wave, until she saw he was not alone. Her eyes were drawn to the occupants of the carriage. One of the women had striking features and dark brown hair beneath a stylish lavender hat which matched her jacket. Another woman dressed in plain black sat beside a small child.
Her eyes unblinking, Shona watched as Zack alighted and held out a hand to assist his female companion in her descent and a child. The woman was Lady Caroline Donnington—she assumed she was the mother of the child, a girl, in a pretty pink-and-white dress festooned with bows. Immediately Shona was caught in the throes of acute despondency with a fair amount of jealousy thrown in.
Zack was completely unaware of his wife’s presence and his teeth flashed whitely in sharp contrast to his darkly burnished skin as he threw back his head and laughed at whatever the little girl had said to him. He was exceptionally well dressed and looked every bit the nobleman he was. Indeed, no gentleman in the park could match his debonair appearance. His fine, dark green coat was set off to perfection by thinly striped grey trousers and a waistcoat in dove grey. A darker grey cravat was a stunning addition to his elegant garb. If anything, his dashing good looks were even more striking than before. His companion evidently thought so, too, for she swayed against him, brushing against his arm as she smiled up at him and lightly touched his broad chest. Taking a quiet path through the trees, they strolled leisurely along, the child scampering on ahead.
Shona watched the touching scene in ringing silence. She felt as though every drop of blood in her brain had left it, leaving her faint and sick. Something unpleasant was moving through her, making its way from her wounded heart up to her slowly thawing mind, which was frozen with disbelief. Her heart lurched into her throat, choking her, and had she not been sitting in the carriage her knees would have buckled.
‘Is something wrong, Shona?’ Augusta asked, noting her niece’s pallor and genuinely concerned. ‘Are you not feeling well?’
Heartbreakingly aware that something awe-inspiring and terrifying had happened to her in that moment, Shona forced a smile to her lips, cursing herself for allowing her distress to show so obviously. ‘I am quite well, Aunt. Why ever should I not be? I just feel a little chilled, that’s all.’ Though her heart throbbed painfully, she felt inclined to shiver despite the tender warmth of the spring-like sunshine.
‘Then we’ll head back to the house. You must leave yourself plenty of time to get ready for the theatre.’
As the carriage turned for home, Shona looked back. Zack and Lady Donnington were still in sight and appeared to be absorbed deep in conversation. Their attention was constantly drawn to the antics of the child skipping ahead. Shona felt as though a knife had been plunged into her heart, damaging it irretrievably. She made a small sound in her throat, but there was so much noise about her that Aunt Augusta did not hear. As the carriage was heading out of the park, turning her head one last time, she saw her husband run after the child, his face creased in a huge grin of delight, his arms opened wide to draw her into his embrace.
Over the head of the wriggling child, who was a small replica of her mother, Zack saw his wife watching and his eyes widened with shock, for he had not expected her to be there. For a moment or two he stood there, holding his young charge, until Shona turned away and, before he could stop her, the carriage left the park.
Zack realised that he had made a mistake in coming here. He felt like he was cheating. Suddenly it was the wrong place, the wrong time and the wrong woman. He was uncomfortable and he wanted to get away from here.
Meanwhile Shona was in agony, impatient for the quiet seclusion of her room, a space with no one in it, in which to recover her composure, though how in the name of God she could do that she could not imagine. She looked ahead, but her eyes were blinded—she could see nothing but a blur of colour before her. No matter what might happen later, though it cost her every shred of strength and willpower, and her own bloody-minded pride, she must bear the pain in silence without anyone knowing how much she suffered.
But how could he? her mind screamed wretchedly. How could Zack do this to her? How could he do something so highly indiscreet—and him a married man—as to escort another woman under society’s nose when only yesterday he had paraded his wife on his arm in the park?
The shock of seeing him with Lady Donnington had triggered off some sleeping thing inside her, bringing it to life and revealing to her the true state of her heart. He had told her there was something he wanted to speak to her about—was this what it was about, that Lady Donnington was his mistress and he was not prepared to give her up? Was the rapture she, Shona, had found in his arms, a rapture he did not value as she did, to be shared with another woman?
* * *
That night Shona was breathtakingly beautiful. The pale gold silk of her dress had been chosen by Morag, after long and careful thought, to blend perfectly with the warm colour of her skin and hair.
Zack arrived on time to collect his wife for the theatre. He was dressed immaculately, fastidiously even, the cut of his expensive jacket setting off the powerful width of his shoulders, his legs smooth and shapely in the well-tailored perfection of his trousers, his dark hair smoothly brushed.
Shona swallowed convulsively. She wanted to cover her eyes for a moment, to shut out the sight of the man who stood before her. He was so stern, so oppressive and yet so breathtaking. He took her breath away. His chiselled profile was touched by the warm light of the candles and the growing ache in her bosom attested to the degree of its handsomeness. In an attempt to maintain her serenity, she let out a slow, steadying breath. His eyes were dark and intense with concern—not for her, she knew that, but because of what she had seen in the park earlier.
As she walked towards him, her heels tapping against the tiled floor, Zack surveyed her from beneath lowered eyebrows. His face was carefully blank, his eyes looking somewhere over her head as though he didn’t really care to consider her face. Even as she burned with questions, her heart beat agonisingly and longingly, despairingly, wanting his arms about her, wanting his hard, protective body against hers in the way of a man who loves a woman. He did love a woman, but it wasn’t her and she must find the strength to accept that.
The man who watched her approach, her dress flowing in shimmering waves about her as her mind moved like a disembodied wraith through the quandaries she faced, wanted to go to her and take her in his arms, kiss her and soothe her and tell her he would make everything all right and yet how could he after what had happened earlier. But her pale face and empty eyes told him she was evidently much distressed—and who could blame her after what she had seen?
‘Shona. Allow me to compliment you. You are exquisite tonight.’
Shona stared at him. His tone was formal, almost ceremonious. Stiffened by pride, she managed with a painful effort to dominate her hurt and accept the slap that fate had dealt her. She raised her head, schooling her features to a smile and her voice to the necessary social lightness.
‘Thank you.’
‘Are you ready?’
‘Not quite. I would like to speak to you before we leave.’
Zack studied the dark green eyes regarding him solemnly from beneath a heavy fringe of dark lashes. ‘We will be late.’
‘Never mind. What I have to say to you is too important to put off. Please, come into the drawing room. My aunt is making preparations to travel to Berkshire in the morning with Thomas, so we will not be interrupted.’
Shona went ahead, closing the door when he followed her inside. Clasping her hands in front of her, she turned and faced her husband squarely. ‘I think you know what this is about.’
‘I think so. You were in the park today.’
Shona nodded, choosing her words carefully. ‘Yes. So were you. You...were not alone, I saw.’
‘No.’
Shona gave him a level look, her eyes ice-cold green. ‘You seemed close. Perhaps Lady Donnington is no longer inclined to wed Lord Byrne now you are back in London. What were you trying to do to me, Zack? Humiliate me with your open association with your mistress in full view of everyone? You cannot, in all conscience, expect me to accept that.’
‘No, I don’t—and Caroline is not my mistress.’
‘No? And who is Victoria?’ Shona watched him, waiting expectantly. She had difficulty reading his expression, but she could see his features were taut with some kind of emotional struggle. Zack’s hesitation was beginning to alarm her. ‘Just tell me. It concerns Lady Donnington, doesn’t it?’
Still he hesitated. There wasn’t an easy way for a man to tell his wife that he had sired a child with a married woman. The muscles worked in his cheek as his jaw tightened and he turned and strode to the fireplace. With his rigid back to her, he thrust hands into his pockets. After a moment he turned and looked at her.
‘Caroline is the mother of my daughter. Victoria.’
Zack distinctly saw Shona recoil as though a knife had been thrust into some deep and agonising part of her—as though it was turning slowly, damaging her so badly she was unlikely to survive it—but her face remained impassive.
‘You have a daughter—a daughter you clearly forgot to tell me about?’
‘I didn’t forget. In the beginning I merely preferred not to have the discussion until I was ready. Then...the closer we became and our relationship developed into something more profound—a closeness I treasure—it was...difficult. I suppose I was afraid the revelation would damage that closeness—that you might walk away.’
Shona was mortified and deeply offended that he would think she would do that. ‘Then you do not know me as well as you think you do,’ she said, her voice shaking with emotion. ‘I had a right to be told, Zack. You should not have kept this from me. It was cruel and despicable.’
Zack wasn’t trying to hurt her, she realised. The rigid muscles of his jaw showed his dismay clearly. A sudden weight fell on her heart at what he had told her. She was stunned, bewildered and a thousand thoughts raced across her brain and crashed together in confusion. She thought of Zack—her love—and all the feelings and emotions he had created were blighted and crushed, trust and confidence destroyed. It shouldn’t have been so painful discovering that he had a daughter—the little girl she had seen in the park, some small part of her mind rationalised—but it was.
‘You should have told me before we...before we... I can’t believe you have done this. You cannot expect me to ignore your indiscretion, to overlook what you have done and how it will affect me. You lied to me.’
‘I never lied to you.’ Zack suddenly realised how important it was to him that she knew the truth. He wanted her to understand. Looking down at her, he felt a cruel smart of anguish and a sudden surge of shame. When she lifted her hurt eyes to meet his own, he felt an overpowering tenderness. She looked to him like a wounded deer which holds itself proud and lithe, even as it breathes hard to avoid the fatal blow.
‘You deceived me. You tricked me! Kept things hidden! Again! After all the things I let you do to me—and all the time you were playing me false. I trusted you,’ she said.
‘You can still trust me.’
‘Things have changed. I can only wonder what else you’re not telling me.’ She glanced away from him. Having heard the note of despair in Zack’s voice, she realised how adamant he had been in his refusal to marry her. She had misunderstood his reasons then. He hadn’t wanted to marry her, that was true, but it wasn’t his loss of freedom that had so disturbed him. It was the loss of his daughter. And neither she nor her family had given him a way out. She was not so naïve as to believe there had been no women in his life before her—shadowed women, faceless women, the sort of women men have for a moment’s pleasure—but this was different. This woman had a face. This woman had given him a child. ‘Clearly you were not married to Lady Donnington, so the child is...’