Shades of the Past Page 17

  The boat wallowed as Blair swung his weight onto the rope, and as he began to climb, the lantern on the prow suddenly went out, plunging the tunnel into darkness. On reaching the cave again, he went to Marianna, and put a gentle hand to her dirty, tear-stained cheek. “Are you all right now, sweeting?”

  “I am, but Stephen—”

  “I’m certain he’s only suffered some grazing, but I’ll have the doctor brought as quickly as possible, just to be certain.”

  “Are—are you very angry with me?”

  “Right now I’m too relieved you’re safe, but I have no doubt my anger will return. You’ve been very foolish, Marianna, but it’s Stephen I really blame.”

  “Please don’t say that! It was my fault, Blair, I was the one who wanted to run away.”

  “And he’s the one who’s old enough to know better,” was the terse reply.

  Marianna stroked Stephen’s hair. “You just don’t understand how much I love him.”

  Belatedly conscious of the listening men, Blair straightened. “I think we’ve said enough for the moment, Marianna,” he warned, thinking of what was left of her reputation. He turned to Harcourt. “I wish to thank everyone for their help. I know the servants have tomorrow off for the fair, but they may take the rest of today as well.”

  There was a delighted stir, and the butler bowed. “Thank you, sir.”

  “And now please see Mr. Woodville is carried up to the house before sending someone for the doctor. Er, take him to the apartment in the north wing.”

  “Sir.” Harcourt bowed again. As the men picked Stephen up, Marianna got to her feet and looked accusingly at her brother. “The north wing? There’s no need to separate us quite so much!”

  He waited until the servants had gone, then faced her. “No need to separate you? Marianna, your behavior has been appalling, and Stephen’s has been worse, so I don’t intend to encourage further transgressions. Like it or not, Lord Sivintree and his son will soon be here, and although I—

  Before he could tell her of his decision not to proceed with the match, Marianna’s resentment erupted in a blaze of continuing defiance. “I won’t marry Alex Handworth, and nothing you can say will change my mind!”

  “Marianna—”

  “I hate you!” she cried, and with a sob fled from the cave.

  A nerve fluttered at his temple, and as his lips pressed angrily together, Laura went to him. “Don’t think too badly of her, she’s suffered a terrible ordeal.”

  “We all have, but Marianna thinks only of herself and Woodville; no one else matters,” he said bitterly.

  “She’s young and head over heels in love,” Laura pointed out again. “And in spite of your anger with her, you, sir, are still a loving and understanding brother.”

  “Indeed? Well it may interest you to know that right now I feel like throttling my little sister,” he replied, but with a faint smile.

  She linked his arm. “I love you,” she whispered, her eyes shining in the light from the lantern the rescue party had left behind.

  He drew a fingertip over her lips. “Even now, when everything else is so chaotic, you have the power to both soothe and arouse me. I’ve lost my heart to you, Laura.”

  “Do—do you really mean that?” she whispered, for it was the first time he had confessed to such feeling.

  “Mean that I love you? Yes, completely.”

  The air sang around her. He didn’t simply desire her, he loved her. Blair loved her!

  Chapter Eighteen

  Later that afternoon, as the servants enjoyed their unexpected extra holiday, Marianna sat with Stephen after being assured by the doctor that the patient would make a complete recovery. Laura had gone to Blair in his private apartment, where behind a firmly locked door they made love.

  The cool silk sheets were fragrant with lavender, and their bodies were warm and damp. She was lost in the ecstasy of a fulfillment that drove all else into oblivion. She gasped as she felt him between her thighs. He lingered before penetration, teasing, promising, enticing, and then he slowly slid himself inside. Shudders of intense delight passed through them both as he entered to the hilt and then commenced the long, easy strokes that would soon carry them both to the peak of ecstasy.

  She felt as if her flesh were melting. No longer a living creature, she had become something ethereal, lacking all substance, ruled by pure sensation. He slowed his movements to prolong the pleasure, from time to time becoming totally still in defiance of final release. She could feel him throbbing deep within her, joined to her in a way that meant everything, and she knew that when next he moved neither of them would be able to prevent the climax.

  Their eyes met for those final seconds, and they continued to gaze at each other as he slowly eased out a little before sinking voluptuously in one last time. Her whole body shuddered as it was invaded by a maelstrom of joy she wished would last forever.

  They lay there, holding each other tightly, exulting in the lingering pleasure. They were warm with love, damp with love; given life by love. But the chaos of pleasure had to subside at last, and she heard him sigh as he gathered her tighter to savor the fading moments. His lips found hers in a long, adoring kiss that put another seal upon her fate. She couldn’t exist without him, he was the destiny she’d been created for. She didn’t want the whole universe, just this private, exquisite existence in his arms.

  She wrapped her legs sensuously around him, and pressed her lips to his shoulder, tasting the salt of his skin. What was going to happen tomorrow? Who was going to lie dead at the top of the staircase? She silently beseeched fate to show compassion. Don’t take him from me, please…

  She closed her eyes then, because if Blair didn’t die, who did? She didn’t want it to be Stephen either, because in spite of all his flaws, she liked him very much.

  A little later, they left the apartment discreetly, and separately. She went first, wearing the blue and white floral gown she’d changed into a little earlier, but as she passed the drawing room door, she heard Marianna sobbing softly inside.

  Blair’s sister was sitting on one of the deep window ledges, with her knees drawn up and her head bowed. The sun shone on her short dark hair and mauve lawn gown, and the spaniels were on the floor beside her. She didn’t know Laura was there until the dogs whined, then she looked up swiftly. “Oh, it’s only you, Laura, I thought...”

  “It was Blair?”

  Marianna nodded, her chin setting mutinously, but then she noticed the glow on Laura’s cheeks. “What have you been doing?” she asked.

  Laura colored. “Me? Nothing.”

  “Fibber.” Marianna smiled a little. “You’re much more to Blair than merely the chaperone he engaged for me, aren’t you?” she observed shrewdly.

  “Do—do you mind?” Laura feared Marianna might resent a chaperone who presumed to love her brother, and seemed to be considered suitable while Stephen was not. Although, perhaps it wasn’t quite the same, because gentlemen were allowed to take whoever they chose to their beds.

  But Marianna shook her head. “Oh, there’s injustice for me, of course, because I’m deeply and irretrievably in love, but I see no reason why Blair should not be too. I know the terrible position I’ve put him in. Besides, I like you very much. I only wish Stephen and I could be allowed to be happy as well. Oh, Laura, I’m so afraid there’ll be a duel. Stephen’s no match for my brother.”

  Footsteps approached, and Blair himself came in. Marianna got up from the window sill and faced him defiantly. “Are you going to call Stephen out?” she demanded.

  Her tone rankled. “He’s seduced you, persuaded you to elope, and endangered your life, good reasons to bring him to account, don’t you think?”

  “You should blame me for everything, not him. I set my cap at him, not the other way around.”

  He drew a long breath. “Yes, I’m quite prepared to believe you did,” he murmured, “but he didn’t put up much resistance.”

  “Please don’t call him
out, Blair,” she begged.

  “It so happens that I don’t intend to. There’s scandal enough attaching to all this already, without the additional infamy of a duel.”

  Tears of relief sprang from Marianna’s dark eyes. “Do—do you really mean that?”

  “Of course I do. I’m not going to proceed with the Handworth match either. I’ve been, er, persuaded that forcing you to marry Alex would be a monumental error.” He glanced at Laura.

  Marianna’s joy bubbled over, and she ran to fling herself into his arms. “Oh, thank you! Thank you!” She flung a tearfully grateful look at Laura.

  Blair held Marianna away for a moment. “Don’t read too much into my decision, for it doesn’t mean I accept Stephen.”

  But nothing could dampen Marianna’s new hope. “You will in the end, I know you will, because no matter what, he’s still your good friend.”

  Blair released her. “He was my friend,” he corrected. “Marianna, I can never countenance a match between you and Stephen, is that clear?” He’d come to see how she was, but the turn of the conversation had become an obstacle, and as the sound of an arriving carriage was heard outside, he seized the opportunity to leave again.

  Marianna remained motionless, then whirled about to Laura. “Why can’t he understand how much Stephen and I love each other?” she cried.

  “Marianna—

  “I know I’m in the wrong, but why must he be so cruel?”

  Laura didn’t know what to say. In years to come, Blair wouldn’t have the power to overrule his sister’s wishes, but here in the early nineteenth century, female rights and freedom were still a long way off.

  Marianna blinked back fresh tears. “I…I think I’ll go for a walk. Alone,” she added as Laura made to offer to accompany her.

  She hurried from the room, and after a moment Laura left as well, but as she reached the landing she saw Marianna looking cautiously over the balustrade into the hall below, where male voices could be heard. Laura joined her, and saw Blair talking to two men who’d just arrived. The Handworths had arrived earlier than expected.

  Alex looked singularly unattractive in a brick-colored coat that emphasized his sallow complexion, and Lord Sivintree was stout and sour-faced in donkey brown. Harcourt lingered nearby with their hats and gloves, waiting to see if anything more was required of him, and the spaniels sat at Blair’s feet, growling now and then at newcomers they clearly didn’t like.

  Marianna’s knuckles were white as she gripped the balustrade. Before Laura realized what was happening, she suddenly called down, her voice echoing with awful clarity, “I can’t marry you, Alex, nor do I wish to! I’m scandalous, you see, I’ve tried to elope with Stephen Woodville, so I’ll have to marry him if my reputation is to be saved!”

  Lord Sivintree and his son gaped, and Blair looked up furiously. “Go to your rooms, Marianna!”

  With a toss of her head she obeyed.

  Lord Sivintree’s face was thunderous. “What’s the meaning of this, Deveril?”

  “I apologize for my sister’s outburst, sir.”

  “Is there any truth in her claims?”

  “I fear so,” Blair had to admit.

  Lord Sivintree suddenly noticed Laura, and his jaw dropped. “Well, I’ll be damned...” he breathed, then turned to Blair. “So you’re still clinging to the past, eh, Deveril? Still falling for beautiful redheads!”

  Blair flushed. “Have a care what you say, sir,” he warned.

  “Why should I? I know your wife is dead, but lo and behold, here she is again. Except we both know this strumpet isn’t sweet Celina!”

  Blair’s eyes darkened. “I’d advise you not to speak of Mrs. Reynolds in such a derogatory fashion, sir, for she is a lady and must be treated as such.”

  “A lady?” Lord Sivintree gave an unpleasant throaty laugh. “My dear fellow, you surely don’t expect me to treat a tawdry member of the chorus as anything other than a tawdry member of the chorus!”

  Laura’s heart sank like a stone as she realized he must have seen her at the Hannover.

  Lord Sivintree gave Blair a cold smile. “Well, I suppose I can understand your interest, for the creature’s a very tasty morsel, as I’m sure Lowestoft will confirm.”

  Laura went unutterably cold inside.

  Blair became still. “Lowestoft? I trust you mean to explain, my lord?” he said with visible control.

  “Explain? By all means. I saw your redheaded actress on the stage at the opening night of the Hannover theater. I noticed her because of her remarkable resemblance to Celina, and it seems I wasn’t the only one who took note, for as I left, I saw her with Miles Lowestoft. It was a very tender scene, I promise. Now I find her here with you. My, my, how you and Lowestoft must both miss your dear departed wife if you’re prepared to share a cheap actress who resembles her!”

  A nerve flickered at Blair’s temple. “Get out, before I throw you out, Sivintree,” he breathed.

  “By all means. But before I do, let me warn you I intend to spread your sister’s name further than Gloucestershire!” Lord Sivintree snapped his fingers for Harcourt to bring their things, then looked at Blair again. “I believe you intended to foist a soiled bride upon my son, and that warrants revenge.”

  Blair’s jaw set, as he didn’t trust himself to respond.

  Followed by Alex, who looked too bemused to say or do anything, Lord Sivintree turned to leave, but then paused again. “Oh, and Deveril, you’d better know I also intend to let the monde know you’re laying ghosts here! Laying ghosts! Ha!” With another unpleasant laugh, he strode away, his son at his heels like an obedient puppy.

  Blair’s gaze immediately swung to Laura. “I trust Sivintree was lying, because if you’re connected in any way with Lowestoft, I’ll have nothing more to do with you.”

  But his voice died away on a strange note that seemed to move all around her. She couldn’t see him anymore, for Deveril House had disappeared and she was once again surrounded by the impersonal modern furnishings of her hotel room.

  A torrent of disbelief swung sickeningly through her. She couldn’t be here in the future again, not at such a crucial moment! She hid her face in her hands to try to shut out the clamoring emotions that beat at her from all sides. She could still hear Blair’s voice. I trust Sivintree was lying, because if you’re connected in any way with Lowestoft, I’ll have nothing more to do with you. Lord Sivintree wasn’t lying, he had indeed seen what he claimed, but it hadn’t been what it appeared to be. Why, of all moments, had he witnessed Miles’ cruel mock affection outside the theater? Sir Miles Lowestoft was her tormentor, not her lover, but how could she explain that to Blair when he was in 1818 and she was here?

  Slowly she lowered her hands. Would Blair be shot tomorrow? Tears of anguish stung her eyes as she gazed toward the window. The May afternoon she’d left behind had been bright with sunshine, but here the January light had almost gone. The shadows were almost comforting, for they came between her and harsh reality.

  The phone rang suddenly, and with a start she answered it. “Yes?”

  It was Mrs. Fitzgerald. “Laura? It’s me. I’m sorry to call instead of popping up, but things are a bit busy down here. I just wanted to let you know Jenny’s Dad is back from Dijon, and we’d like you to have dinner with us tonight to tell you all about Jenny and Alun.”

  Laura tried to sound as natural as possible. “Alun’s better?”

  Mrs. Fitzgerald chuckled. “Oh, yes, and beginning to grumble, which is always a good sign.”

  “That’s true.”

  “Anyway, I’ll be relieved when Jenny’s here again, for I’ve had a conscience about you, my dear.”

  “Me? There’s no need.”

  “No matter what you say, you must have been bored witless on your own.”

  Laura could have laughed out loud. Bored witless? Oh, how different was the truth!

  Mrs. Fitzgerald spoke again. “You will dine with us, won’t you?”

  “Yes, of cou
rse. Thank you for inviting me.”

  “It’s a pleasure.” There was a pause. “You didn’t change your mind about the audition, then?”

  “No.”

  “Are you quite sure you’re doing the right thing?”

  “Quite sure, but thanks for your concern, I appreciate it.”

  There was another chuckle at the other end of the line. “Busybodies like me can’t keep their noses out, I’m afraid. Oh, I’m needed, so I’ll go now. See you later, my dear. Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  Laura replaced the phone and then glanced around at the dim rooms. Defiance stirred through her suddenly. This was crazy. What good did moping in the dark do? She needed some light on the subject, and with a determined breath, she went to flick a few switches. Soon the rooms were brightly lit, the TV was on, and she’d made herself some coffee. She sat in a comfortable chair, dodging from channel to channel until she found something she liked the look of. Then she leaned her head back. She wouldn’t give in to despair, she wouldn’t! Instinct told her that sooner or later she’d return to 1818, however briefly, and when she did she’d be ready to plead her cause with Blair. She closed her eyes, feeling very tired. The coffee went cold, the TV droned on, and she fell asleep.

  Several hours passed, and she was suddenly awakened by a noisy game show that was shrill with sound effects and canned laughter. Something made her turn to look at the watercolor above the mantelpiece. She got up, for the painted scene seemed oddly real. It must be a trick of the eyes, she decided, but then realized it was no illusion. The brushstrokes had taken on a new vitality. The trees actually stirred in a summer breeze, the carpet of bluebells nodded gently, and the leafy shadows of a May morning moved delicately over the track by the blasted oak tree in the center of the scene!

  Shaken, she crossed the room, and the closer she got, the less like a painting the picture seemed. It was no longer an artist’s handiwork, but a window into the woods. She put a trembling hand to the frame, and then, very tentatively, to the glass. It was cold and firm to the touch, but beyond it, the woods were in motion, and now she could actually smell the flowers and hear the birds singing!