A Highland Conquest Read online

  How long they remained there by the water’s edge she didn’t know, for the minutes passed in a succession of tender words and loving kisses, but at last they knew they must return, and as they made their way back up through the illuminated gardens, Lauren knew that she had made the right decision. Nothing and no one mattered to her more than Rory Ardmore, and to leave him would be like leaving her very heart.

  As they reached the terrace by the dining room, he drew her into the shadows for a last kiss, and then he gazed tenderly into her eyes. “Tonight is Mary’s night, but tomorrow is ours, and I will tell the world that I have won your hand. The niceties of taking our time have no place in the way I feel, and I cannot bear the thought of having to conduct myself formally whenever I am with you. I need to touch you, hold you, tell you how much I love you, and I cannot do that if we observe all the usual tedious rules of waiting for a suitable length of time, et cetera, et cetera.”

  “I feel the same, but are you quite, quite sure you want to marry me?” she whispered.

  “Without any shadow of doubt. Are you quite certain as well?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then it is sealed.”

  A group of guests emerged on to the terrace and they drew apart. Shortly after they rejoined the rest of the ball, and he was obliged to resume his duties as host. The last thing Lauren felt like was dancing with anyone but him, and so she politely declined a gentleman who invited her for a polonaise. Instead she sought Hester.

  She found her with a group of other ladies on a sofa near the staircase, and Hester was glad of the excuse to leave them.

  “Oh, I’m so glad you’ve come, for I’m bored beyond belief by all that chatter about fripperies. I swear that if I hear one more suggestion as to how one can wear lace, I will suggest wearing lace stays and nothing else!”

  “Mrs. Kingston, I’m shocked.”

  “Oh, perhaps I’m just finding them tiresome because I’m not reeling quite the tippy.”

  “Have you had enough of the ball?” Lauren asked with swift concern.

  “No, not exactly, for I’ve been giving a certain matter my full consideration,” Hester replied mysteriously, nodding toward Mary, who stood nearby with a large group of companions. “I’ve been watching her, Lauren, and although she’s putting on a brave face, I can tell she’s utterly wretched. She tries not to look at Fitz, and he tries not to look at her, but they can’t help themselves. It’s so unfair, especially as Emma is what stands between them, and not only is she horridly unfaithful but she may not even be legally his wife anyway!”

  “Don’t say it too loudly,” Lauren said, glancing around a little uneasily, for it seemed that Hester had spoken rather vehemently.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, it’s just that I feel so angry about it.”

  “I know; I feel the same.”

  “It would be good if we could find some proof that Emma is really Mrs. du Maurier,” Hester mused.

  “Proof? Such as?”

  “I don’t know. Anything.” Hester drew a long breath. “There won’t be anyone in her room now,” she said slowly.

  Lauren drew back. “Go there and search it? Is that what you’re suggesting?”

  “Why not?”

  “What if we’re caught?”

  “Who will catch us? Everyone is down here, and if Emma’s maid is still there, we won’t go in anyway. Isn’t it worth a try? Isn’t poor Mary worth helping?”

  Lauren followed her gaze toward Mary again, and she remembered how touchingly sad Rory’s sister had been that very afternoon. “Yes, she’s worth helping.”

  “Then shall we sally forth on our stratagem?”

  “Now?”

  “When better?” Hester tapped her fan against Lauren’s arm. “Come, Coz, it’s positively our duty to help true love upon its proper course.”

  “Very well, let’s to it,” Lauren replied with sudden resolve, and the cousins linked arms to walk to the staircase.

  “By the way,” Hester murmured as they ascended, “I have to say that you were quite obviously telling the truth about you and Rory. I vow I thought he would eat your hand when you arrived at the ball, and then, when you danced at waltz together, I feared he would devour the rest of you as well! You’ve snapped him up, Coz, and right from under the noses of half of London’s eligible ladies. If I were of a wagering nature, I would lay odds that you won’t return to Boston to live. No, indeed.”

  Lauren smiled but said nothing. Time enough later to relate what had happened by the loch a short while ago.

  They hurried away from the staircase, and the sounds of the ball became more muffled behind them. There was hardly anyone to be seen in the passages, for everyone was either at the ball or enjoying the lesser festivities in the servants’ hall; at least, that was what the two conspirators hoped as they made their way to the room Emma shared with Fitz. At the door they paused. Was Emma’s maid inside? After a moment Lauren decided to make certain by knocking. There was no response, and so she knocked again, louder this time, but still there was no response. At that she took her courage in both hands and turned the handle. The room beyond was almost in darkness.

  Hester peered in as well. “It’s too dark to see properly,” she whispered. “I’ll go to our room and light a candle with Alex’s lucifers. I won’t be a moment.” She hurried away.

  Lauren lingered in the doorway, fearing that at any moment one of the guests would return for something forgotten and see her. At last Hester hastened back again, shielding a lighted candle with her hand. As she reached Emma’s room, her steps faltered and she thrust the candle into Lauren’s hand and then leaned back against the door jamb. Her face had suddenly gone very pale, and an anxious Lauren could see that she was trembling.

  “Hester?”

  “I’ll be all right in a moment. I tried to hurry too much, and got myself all of a pother.” Hester smiled a little ruefully. “I felt so much better that I quite forgot how unwell I was earlier today,” she explained.

  “Perhaps we should abandon this exercise—” Lauren began. But Hester shook her head.

  “No, now that we’ve thought of it, we must carry it through. I loathe Emma for what she’s doing to Fitz. Even if she isn’t Mrs. du Maurier, and is legally married to him after all, she’s still breaking her marriage vows by taking Jamie as her lover.”

  “I could not agree more,” Lauren replied with feeling. She glanced back along the passage before going into the room.

  Hester followed, and they closed the door behind them.

  Lauren turned to face her. “You stay by the door.”

  “But—”

  “No buts, Mrs. Kingston. You’re not feeling well, and so you must stay quietly by the door and listen for anyone coming.”

  “Keep watch?”

  “Yes.”

  Hester sighed. “Oh, very well.”

  Lauren glanced around the shadowy room. It was a large chamber, larger than hers, and even in the dim light she could see that it was richly gilded. There was gilding on the ceiling plaster work, on the painted paneling on the walls, and on the heavily carved bed, but apart from this the predominant color was silver-gray. The curtains hadn’t been drawn across the window, which stood open to the summer night, and she could hear the ball more clearly now. When she went to the window to look out, she saw that the castle wall dropped directly into the loch close to the dining room terrace and to the gardens where she and Rory had been together a short while before.

  There were still guests strolling beneath the lanterns, and she knew that if anyone glanced up at the window they might notice the flickering candlelight within. Swiftly she drew the curtains and then glanced around the room once more before going to the dressing table. She put the candle down to open the first drawer, not really knowing what she was looking for, and certainly not expecting to find anything incriminating, for if Emma really were Mrs. du Maurier, it was hardly likely she’d leave proof where it might be happened upon.

  She went
through all the drawers and found only the things one would expect. Then, just as she was about to start on the wardrobe, Hester gave a startled hiss from the door.

  “Someone’s coming!”

  Lauren snatched up the candle, and as one she and Hester dashed behind the curtains at the window. Hester immediately made to blow the candle out, but Lauren swiftly tossed it outside into the loch, for an extinguished candle had too distinctive and noticeable a smell, and if anyone entered the room, they would know immediately that someone else was there.

  Hearts beating anxiously, they waited in the darkness, praying that whoever it was would walk straight past the room. But their prayers were not answered, for to their dismay the door opened and someone came in.

  Hearts pounding in their breasts, Lauren and Hester peeped secretly through a provident crack in the curtains. They saw not one but two figures briefly outlined against the brightly lit passage as they entered the room. Then the door closed once more, but not before the cousins had recognized Jamie and Emma.

  For a moment the room remained in darkness, but then a lucifer flared into light as Jamie lit a candle on the mantelpiece. Emma went to him then, slipping her arms around his waist and reaching up to kiss him on the lips. For a moment or so he returned the kiss, but then he pulled sharply away.

  “No, not here…”

  “Scruples, my darling?” Emma gave him a seductive laugh.

  “Possibly. Look, Emma, why come here, to this room? If we must be alone as you wish, then surely my room would be more wise? Fitz might miss you and come looking.” He glanced uneasily toward the door, obviously exceedingly ill at ease.

  “Fitz?” Emma was greatly amused. “My darling, he is too busy feasting his eyes upon your little sister. Oh, don’t look so shocked, for he is far too noble to do anything but look. Why, he’s even too noble to tell me he regrets marrying me. He’s guessed that I’m being unfaithful.”

  Jamie was appalled. “Fitz knows about me?”

  “You may rest easy, for he has no idea. So, you see, we can be quite private here.” Emma moved closer to him again.

  “I’d still feel safer in my room.’

  “With old Dodd suffering from a surfeit of rich food in the adjacent chamber? Come now, Jamie, moaning and groaning he may be, but his hearing is still as sharp as ever, and you know he has a reputation second to none when it comes to scandalmongering. There never was a nosier old tabby than he— I vow he’d put any gathering of dowagers to shame.”

  Jamie nodded. “You’re right, I suppose.”

  “Of course I am.” She put her arms around his neck. “So why waste time in chattering, when we could be…”

  Her voice died away on a suggestive note, and Lauren and Hester looked at each other in dismay, but to their relief Jamie was still far too uneasy.

  He unlinked Emma’s arms and moved away. “No, I can’t…”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “You know what’s wrong.”

  Emma leaned back against one of the carved bedposts, her eyes shining in the candlelight as she surveyed him. “Yes, you are put out that the American creature was apparently wise to you all along.”

  “I don’t deny it, but there is more. I’m referring to our liaison. I hate deceiving Fitz, for he is my friend, and when I think of it I’m deeply ashamed.”

  “You think I revel in it?”

  He looked at her. “Yes, I do.”

  “Is your opinion of me so low?”

  “I know what you are capable of.”

  “Given the chance, this particular leopard can change her spots,” she said softly. “I want that chance, Jamie, and time is running out. You see, I fear you may be right after all, and my past may be about to catch up with me. Oh, don’t look so alarmed, for no one has said anything, or even hinted. It’s just that since you told me about that business with the wretched newspaper, I’ve noticed that Alex Kingston looks at me a little oddly. If he hasn’t remembered, then he soon will, just as that American creature might suddenly recall seeing me at the Crown & Thistle.”

  “No one saw either of us at the inn— I’ve already told you that. And as for Alex remembering Brighton—”

  “I know that it’s an outside chance, but it’s still a risk. I remembered him because of his golden hair, so there might easily be something about me that will make him recall. Oh, Jamie, I’m so afraid of what might happen if that happens.” Emma’s voice caught.

  Behind the curtains, Lauren and Hester exchanged glances again in the darkness. There was now no doubt in their minds that Emma was Mrs. du Maurier and that Jamie was fully acquainted with her shadowy past.

  Chapter 17

  Aroused to a need to reassure and protect his mistress, Jamie went to her and pulled her swiftly into her arms. “You won’t be caught, my darling, for no one will ever find out about Brighton. Your secret is safe with me.”

  “I know you can be trusted, but I feel suddenly more vulnerable than you will ever know,” Emma whispered pathetically, clinging to him as if he were her savior. “I couldn’t bear to go to prison, Jamie, or maybe even be transported…”

  “That will never happen,” he breathed, his lips moving against her hair.

  “But it might.” Her voice dropped to a pleading whisper. “Please change your mind again, my darling. Let us carry out Isabel’s suggestion, and—”

  “I can’t.” Abruptly he released her.

  “Is your brother more important to you than me?” Emma challenged, a wounded note entering her voice.

  “No, you know that isn’t so.”

  “I don’t know any such thing, Jamie. All I know is that you are putting his feelings before my chance of happiness.”

  “We could be happy together without resorting to theft.”

  Behind the curtains, Lauren’s eyes widened with surprise. Theft? What were they talking about?

  Emma’s tone was crisp. “There is no happiness in penury, my darling, as you must concede, given your recent scramble to stay out of jail.”

  “But to do as we first planned would be to…to…”

  “Bring back dear Rory’s most painful memories? I hardly think that his temporary discomfort is worth putting before our well-being, my love. Oh, he will be sunk in gloom for a short while, but that is all, and after that he will hardly notice what has been done.”

  “Hardly notice? Emma, he will be devastated, believe me. Haven’t you observed him this past day or so? If he were led to believe that history was repeating itself—”

  “It will pass,” she insisted, seizing his hands and making him look into her urgent eyes, “Jamie, we must do it while we have the chance, for if we don’t, then it may be too late, and I will pay a very high price indeed. Besides, why should Rory be considered? Simply because he has belatedly deigned to hand out his largesse? For that you are prepared to put me in jeopardy?”

  “That’s hardly fair, Emma.”

  “Isn’t it? Rory could afford to bail you out a thousand times over, and yet he cut up rough this time. Now, because it suits him for some reason, he has decided to be benevolent again, and you are so pathetically grateful that—”

  “You may view it as pathetic gratitude, Emma, but I prefer to regard it as a timely rescue. I don’t want to continue as I have been; I want to change.”

  Emma breathed out with a slow smile. “Ah, so you and I are the same, are we not?” she murmured. “I want the chance to change, and so do you. If we carry out Isabel’s plan, then we will both achieve what we wish for so much. Please, Jamie, do it for me.”

  “Emma…”

  “If you love me, truly love me, you will put me first,” she begged, moving toward him again and coiling her arms around him. She was spellbindingly beautiful in the gently swaying candlelight. Jamie would have had to be made of ice to resist, but he wasn’t made of ice; he was in Emma’s seductive thrall. As she raised her lips toward his, he gave a groan of capitulation and swept her roughly into his arms, kissing her as if he w
ould consume her completely.

  Lauren watched and saw how weak he was. Of the two, it was Emma who was strong. She held sway over him, and even though he clearly wished to break free, he was trapped by his desires. He wanted to turn his back on everything, but she was temptation beyond endurance and she wasn’t slave to her senses as he was to his. Emma was cool and calculating, determined to have her own way at all costs. His conscience subsided, and he was at her bidding once more.

  Emma’s body curved richly against his as she whispered to him. “It’s agreed, then? We do as Isabel wants?”

  “Yes.” The single word of consent was dragged from him.

  She was exultant. “My darling…”

  “Emma, when we start anew, it must be different.”

  “Oh, it will be, my dearest, I promise.” Emma was prepared to concede anything—for the time being, at least.

  He kissed her, lingering over the moment as if he wished it would never end, but now that she had won him over, she knew only too well how to keep his desires at fever pitch. She drew back. “We must make our plans.”

  “We already have. We will proceed as we decided before.”

  She smiled. “Exactly as then?”

  He hesitated but then nodded. “Yes.”

  “To the last glittering detail?”

  “I’ve said so.”

  “I just have to be absolutely sure, Jamie, for if your conscience is likely to reassert itself—”

  “It won’t. I’ve given my word, and that is the end of it.”

  “Good, for with so much going on tonight, we won’t be noticed.”

  ‘Tonight?”

  She looked at him. “That is what we decided before, and I think it is the best plan.”

  “I know, but the weather is charging, and there’ll be a storm before the night is out.”

  “The weather is excellent,” she replied, echoing Lauren’s own words on the loch that morning.

  “If you’d lived here all your life, Emma, you’d know the signs as I do. The sea is in the air.”

  “You sound like a country wisewoman,” Emma said scornfully. “Oh, come on, Jamie, forget your weather divining and agree to do it tonight.”