Highwayman Husband

The gaze that fell on Laura was blank and then Lucas frowned slightly, as if puzzled by what she had said. ‘Contrary to what you believe, Laura, I desired no other woman—not then, not now. There are some things about those weeks before our marriage you cannot possibly understand, although in time I will explain everything.’ At the tragic look in her eyes, cynical humour softened his features, and his firm, sensual lips quirked in a derisive smile. Gently he tipped her chin up. ‘Why, my poor little wife, what is it? Are you telling me that you missed me after all?’

To her consternation and fury, Laura felt her cheeks grow hot. Angrily she slapped his hand away. ‘I am not telling you anything of the sort. At least have the decency to explain to me where you have been for the past two years—and why you are cavorting about the county as a highwayman, robbing unsuspecting travellers of their valuables. How ridiculous that is! And what was the reason for that charade a moment ago? Tell me!’

‘Trust me. I know exactly what I am doing, and why I am doing it.’

‘Then let us dispense with this conversation and go and tell Edward who you are, before that accomplice of yours shoots him.’

Lucas’s fingers closed cruelly on her upper arm as she swung round and began to walk away. He spun her round to face him. ‘Do not,’ her husband said in a terrible voice, ‘even consider doing that. Defy me on this, and in my present unreasonable mood nothing would give me greater satisfaction than to make you regret it. You will yearn for the kindness I showed you before I made you my wife. When Carlyle leaves you tonight you will send him packing and not receive him again under my roof under any circumstances—ever.’

‘I can’t do that,’ Laura argued stubbornly. ‘It would not do. I must explain to him—’

‘You will do as I say.’ Lucas’s silken voice promised dire consequences should she choose to disobey him. ‘You will not tell him who I am. For the time being my identity must remain a secret. No one must know that I am alive and here in Cornwall. Do you understand me, Laura?’

The threat of violence lessened her courage and made her feel helpless as she looked into his wrath-filled face. There was an undeniable aura of restrained power and forcefulness about him—gathering force, no doubt to be unleashed on her later, she thought bitterly. Tears of frustration stung her eyes and she nodded, swallowing a hard lump that had risen in her throat. ‘Yes,’ she whispered.

Satisfied that she was adequately chastened, Lucas softened and he released his hold on her arm. He stood gazing down at the tempestuous face upturned to his, seeing the blur of tears in her large eyes, so deep a blue as to be almost purple. His breath caught in his throat, for even to the most reluctant eye Laura’s beauty could not be ignored.

Lucas was unable to believe that this provocatively lovely, regal, glamorous and bewitching young woman was his wife, whose sweetness he had kept fresh and alive during his incarceration in his vermin-infested cell. Her skin shone with a healthy lustre, and the angles of girlhood had been replaced by a supple slenderness. Her once underdeveloped breasts were now swollen to two glorious globes that strained the bodice of her gown. In his mind time rolled back, and this lovely creature with glossy black curls spilling over her bare shoulders blended into an enchanting, frightened and bewildered girl, who would never have dared stand up to him like a proudly enraged goddess as she was doing now.

Reluctant admiration swelled in his heart, but unfortunately it only made him angrier because that shy, innocent girl he had married had grown into a spirited, forthright, beautiful young woman in his absence, and had turned to his enemy for comfort. For the first time in his life he experienced an acute feeling of irrepressible jealousy which twisted his gut and caught him completely off guard. It was a feeling he found decidedly unpleasant.

Reminding himself that while he had been rotting in a French prison Laura had been growing into a ravishing beauty and setting Cornwall by its ear with the likes of Edward Carlyle, he hardened his jaw and coldly rejected the memory of how she had last looked when they had parted. Without another word, he quickly replaced his hat and, securing the handkerchief over the lower half of his face, took her arm and escorted her back to the coach.

Scooping up her cloak from the ground, Laura slipped it around her shoulders. If, by disappearing with his wife into the dark seclusion of the trees, Lucas had intended to drive Edward to a fury, he had succeeded. When they appeared Edward uttered a short, inarticulate cry of rage. For an instant Laura read madness in his eyes. His teeth were clenched and his hands opened and closed convulsively. She feared he was about to launch himself at Lucas, but thankfully he restrained himself.

‘If you’ve laid so much as one finger on her, you swine, by God, by the time I’ve finished you are going to regret that you were born,’ Edward ground out, his voice hoarse with rage. ‘You’ll suffer for this one day. I swear it.’

Contemptuous of his neighbour, Lucas scorned him. ‘Your threats don’t worry me, Carlyle. Reserve your concern for yourself. Now be on your way. Take the lady home.’ He waited until Edward had assisted Laura inside the coach before he swung himself into the saddle. His accomplice did the same—though with less agility—and they did not lower their pistols until Amos had whipped up the horses and the coach was trundling towards Roslyn Manor.

Laura did not turn and look back at her husband, but she knew that as he watched her leave with Edward beneath the concealing handkerchief his face had hardened into a mask of icy wrath. Inside the coach she looked at Edward’s granite features, wondering how she was going to tell him she could not marry him.

‘It’s all right, Edward. Nothing happened,’ she said, in an attempt to alleviate any fears he might have that she had been molested, but instead of calming him her words enraged him and he threw her a glance loaded with suspicion.

‘You expect me to believe that villain didn’t lay a hand on you?’ he seethed. ‘You were gone a full ten minutes.’

Laura forced herself to keep calm and managed to conjure up a gentle smile. Above all, she must not let Edward see the unnerving effect her meeting with Lucas had had on her. ‘I swear he didn’t touch me. We—talked, that is all.’

His narrowed eyes glittered across at her. ‘Talked? It gets even more intriguing. Do you mind telling me what you talked about—what you could possibly have to say to a man who had just stolen your jewels? ’Tis not an easy tale to believe. I’ll take my oath that had I followed you I would have seen that—that blackguard taking you in his arms with the intent of ravishing you.’

Stung by the contempt in his voice, Laura stiffened. ‘You are in error, Edward. I swear he did not touch me. You will have to be content with that. At least we have come away from the incident unharmed—if a little poorer. For that we must be thankful.’

Edward leaned into his corner, quietly fuming. ‘That man will regret this night’s work. I will not rest until I find him and see him hanged.’

Seated across from him, Laura shuddered. She had never seen such hatred in a human gaze. Turning her head, she looked into the darkness beyond the window, and as they travelled on she felt as if she’d imagined the whole encounter with her husband. The sense of unreality stayed with her all the way to Roslyn. The man who had suddenly reappeared in her life commandeered all her thoughts, and she found her mind drifting back to the circumstances of their first meeting.

She had been living in London then, with her father, Sir James Russell, who was attached to the Admiralty in Whitehall. Her mother had been dead several years. Aunt Josaphine, her mother’s sister, who had always taken a kindly interest in her young niece, frequently invited her and her father to join small, diverting parties at her town house, where her guests were chosen for their charm and gaiety.

It was at one of these parties that she first saw Lucas. He appeared with a friend of his, a Frenchman—the Comte de Mournier, she recalled, an extremely amiable young man, both lively and unreserved, and whose manners were very much admired. Lucas, on the other hand, was quite withdrawn, and had seemed curiously out of place. His tall, broad-shouldered, restless figure and bronzed features seemed to belong to a world of outdoor activities, rather than among the frills and flounces of her aunt’s drawing room. He did not partake in any of the diversions, which he obviously found tedious, and would stand apart and observe the gathering with his proud and brooding silver gaze.

A vivacious friend of Laura’s, Lydia Sheridan, who knew all the latest gossip, whispered to her that she should beware of Lucas Mawgan, for his blatant virility and dark good looks impelled women to his side. It was rumoured that over the years he’d had an assortment of mistresses, and that he seemed in no particular hurry to marry. Lydia also told her that he was a gentleman who lived in Cornwall, who often journeyed to London to conduct his business affairs.

Laura saw Lucas on several occasions after that, and even began looking for him, hoping to see him. He was always accompanied by his friend, the Frenchman, and they were often to be seen in the company of the much sought-after Weston sisters, Daisy and Caroline, two extremely beautiful blonde-haired girls—frivolous and the focal point of every event they attended.

Unfortunately for them and the gentlemen who tried to get close, they were constantly watched over by their matriarchal mother, who never let her precious daughters out of her sight, but it did not escape Laura’s notice that Lucas was often to be seen in conversation with Caroline. Lydia remarked that Caroline had her eye on him, and that she had confided to her that she would do anything to get him, and Laura didn’t doubt that for a moment. Caroline, pink-cheeked, those dark eyes of hers wide and positively gleaming with anticipation, lapped up everything Lucas said and did like a kitten at the cream.

When Laura was introduced to Lucas by her aunt, he appeared brusque and quite formidable to her, and with a sense of foolish dismay she realised that her head hardly came up to his shoulder. His eyes passed over the plain young girl quickly and with little interest, looking at her but not seeing her. When he moved on she realised how immature she must seem to him, but from that moment her heart was lost to her.

It was as if a candle had been lit within her, which burned with an unquenchable flame, and the more she tried not to think of him the flame seemed to burn all the stronger. She told herself it was foolish to think like this, and that, since he seemed unaware of her existence, to save herself heartache she ought to forgo her visits to the places where he would be present. But instead she seized on their meetings and hugged them to her like a comfort blanket. She thrilled at each one of the occasions that she saw him, and looked forward to the next with passionate anticipation, marking her calendar with red crosses so she wouldn’t forget those few treasured days.

The misunderstanding that was to change her life occurred when she was leaving a party with her father late one night. Rain was coming down in torrents and it was blowing a gale. There were so many people and such confusion in the street as everyone tried to hold onto their elaborate hair adornments and find their carriages. Somehow Laura became separated from her father and found herself alone in a carriage that was suddenly driven off at breakneck speed, drawing terrified screeches from all those it almost ran down.

Horrified, she tried shouting for the driver to stop, that there had been some mistake, but he couldn’t hear her over the noise of the storm. The carriage continued to travel like this for some time, causing Laura extreme concern for her safety. She had no idea what was happening to her or where she was being taken, only that they had crossed the river and were heading in the direction of Richmond.

After an hour or so of being bounced about, when the driver finally brought the carriage to a halt in Richmond Park, he jumped down from his perch and flung the door open. Laura was astonished to find herself face to face with Lucas Mawgan. He stared at her with a look of enormous surprise, which was quickly followed by anger and frustration. That was the moment she realised that the carriage she was in belonged to the Weston family—it was very similar to her father’s—and she looked back at him with a dawning of understanding and deep regret.

Lucas Mawgan had abducted the wrong woman, and he knew there would be all hell to pay when he took her back.

He was right. Her father and brother were furious. To prevent a dreadful scandal that would ruin her reputation beyond recall, her father and Philip insisted Lucas do the honourable thing and marry her. There was no one more astonished than she was when he made no attempt to defend himself and agreed without argument. Laura tried telling him that she knew of the mix-up and he didn’t have to marry her, but she was too humiliated and intimidated by him to say so. He did not disclose to anyone what his intentions had been when he had abducted her that night—but she knew.

When they were together Lucas was always courteous to her, but she could detect the underlying currents in his tone and body. He was seething with anger. He hadn’t wanted to marry her. He was simply being chivalrous. But Laura was supremely grateful for the way he had leaped to the defence of her reputation to save her from disgrace, which proved how noble he was. She would repay him for his kindness, she vowed. She would be a good wife to him. They were not much alike, yet despite their differences they might deal well together. However, they only had three short days together as man and wife before Lucas had to go to France—and was lost to her.

On Lucas’s demise, at eighteen years old she found herself with the burden of managing servants and trades people, and striving to keep the small estate intact. She found it difficult to understand Cornish people and their way of life, and there were plenty of men and women in and around Roslyn who didn’t like strangers. At first she felt like an interloper, who had invaded a world where she was not welcome. But, being a natural born survivor, she soon found her feet and learned to stand on them.

Fortunately money wasn’t a problem, since Lucas had left her a very wealthy young widow. Upon paying his lawyers in London a visit shortly after his death, she listened with a sense of unreality as she was told of the extent of his wealth. As well as the income from the estate, he had a large fortune invested in stocks and bonds that would take good care of her in the years ahead.

Neither Laura nor Edward spoke until the dark outline of Roslyn Manor came into view. The great house was in harmony with the massive rocks, flanking the sea, on which it stood, proud and defiant, gazing sightlessly over the Channel as it had done for centuries.

The coach stopped at the bottom of a narrow flight of steps leading up to the solid, double oak doors, and when Edward would have got out Laura halted him. Although she was quaking inside, she looked at him with outward calm. She must delay no longer in telling him she would not marry him, and now that the moment of confrontation was at hand she was strangely relieved.

‘Edward, wait. There is something I have to say to you.’

He looked at her sharply, his mind still preoccupied with what had just transpired. ‘What is it?’

Taking a firm grip of herself, she very carefully steadied her voice in an attempt to soften the blow. ‘I cannot marry you,’ she told him quietly. ‘I’m sorry.’

He looked at her as if she had taken leave of her senses. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Laura. What nonsense is this? Of course we’ll be married, and with respect we should proceed with the arrangements without delay. You’re hysterical and overwrought by what’s happened, that’s all. You’ll feel better in the morning.’

‘I mean it, Edward. It was wrong of me to say I would—and to let the party go ahead tonight. I had misgivings from the start and should have spoken out. I should never have let it go this far.’

‘Then why did you?’

‘I—I don’t know. I was afraid, I suppose.’

‘Afraid, Laura?’ he said harshly, his eyes narrowing. ‘Afraid of what? Me?’

‘No, of course not. I don’t know why. But I feel I have to put a stop to this, to end it now while there is still time. Our betrothal was a mistake.’

‘You don’t know what you’re saying. You’re committed to me.’