by Cheryl Howe
“Twenty thousand pounds!” Astra placed a hand over her racing heart. “Does James know?”
“Not yet, but I’m sure he shall find out.” Wesley studied the ground, his shoulders slumped. “I have been diverting rent to another account. I must leave England immediately. He will have me arrested.”
Astra swallowed the thought that James might be vengeful enough to have her arrested as well. “We will give it back to him. If he doesn’t know, can we not put it back in Eastlan’s funds before he’s the wiser?”
Wesley laughed. “He has gone over every pound, every account. He will notice. Frankly, I’m surprised he had not discovered my handiwork already.”
“Then why did you do it? He will not be happy about this.” That was quite the understatement. Astra had not seen her husband absolutely furious yet but she feared that would soon be coming.
Wesley suddenly gripped her arms painfully. “I did it for you, Astra. I’ve done everything for you. Do you know how hard it was for me to watch you marry Lowell? But I stayed by your side because I knew he could give you so much more than I could. Your marriage to James spit in the face of my devotion and Lowell’s memory.”
Astra pulled away from him but she had to struggle before he released her. “James is my one chance at happiness. Can’t you see that?”
Wesley stepped back obviously stunned. “I am your one chance at happiness. When will you recognize that?”
Astra shook her head. “I am sorry that I’ve hurt you. I blame myself for relying on you when I should not have, but Wesley, I have never led you to believe more than friendship existed between us.”
“You are too much of a lady for that.”
Astra laughed, actually truly laughed. “I am no lady.”
She did not even realize she had rested her hand on her abdomen until Wesley glanced down. She quickly removed it, suddenly afraid for him to know she was with child. The reasons why she did not care to ponder. A chill set upon her and she glanced around, suddenly hoping for a passing farmer on the deserted road.
“Are you ill?” he said sharply.
“The idea of you being sent to prison upsets me. Yes, I am ill at the thought.”
He seemed to relax at that. “We must leave.”
“I am returning the money and telling James the truth.”
“Do you want to see me in prison?” Wesley shrieked.
“Of course not, James will have no reason to prosecute you if we give him back the money.”
“Are you mad? Even you should know James would not let it go at that. What I did is a serious crime, Astra. You must not tell him.”
“I must. You said he will find out anyway.” Astra needed to make her way back to Eastlan. She should not have come alone. Long walks in the country had always been her salvation but now she imagined Lark’s evil spriggans behind every turn.
“That’s why we must leave immediately.” Wesley took a step toward her. “Even now it might be too late. Leave with me right now and when we are safely abroad we will send for Lark.”
“I would never leave Lark.” She took a step back, fighting the urge to turn and run.
“You would rather see me arrested?” The broken quality in his voice had her hating herself for even thinking for a moment he might wish her harm.
“No, but…” Astra rubbed her forehead, ruining the smart angle of her straw-brimmed hat. “You must go into hiding. I won’t tell James about the account until you are safely out of the country. It’s the best I can do.” Astra felt herself sinking deeper into a disaster she could not untangle, but what else could she do? She felt guilty enough about the trouble Wesley had landed himself in because of his devotion to her.
“You would rather stay here and be at his mercy, than flee with me? I will take care of you, Astra. I always will.” He reached out for her hand, but didn’t try to touch her.
“He is my husband, Wesley.” When she wrapped her arms protectively around her, he dropped his hand and his hurt gaze. “It will cause you more grief if I go with you. Let me give James back his money, so you can escape. It’s the only way.” Astra hated that she was not sure what James would value more. Having enough money to rescue Eastlan from ruin, or keeping his wife.
“I see what I have to do. It was my last resort, but there is no other way.”
“I’m sorry, Wesley. I wish you had not risked so much on my behalf. I would have begged you not to if you would have asked me.”
“I know you would not have wanted me to risk so much and that’s why I could not tell you. Will you miss me?” Again he reached his hand out to her, and she took it this time, comforted by his return to the same old Wesley.
“More than you know.” She squeezed his fingers briefly before disengaging his hold. “I am sorry it has come to this, but, Wesley, you should have a life of your own.”
“I intend to.” He smiled sadly, then kissed her on the cheek. “Goodbye for now.”
He turned and walked down the dirt lane lined with tufts of freshly sprouted grass. His direction was toward the village and away from Eastlan.
Astra watched him go. Instead of solving anything, his departure would make things infinitely worse. The baby. The money. The duplicity. How could she expect James to ever trust her again, much less love her?
***
James stumbled into his room, exhausted and frustrated. Someone had taken a shot at him today. He’d been riding back from Launceston where he’d instructed his bank to take Wesley off the account, something he should have done the moment he’d arrived on English soil. The bank’s manager was more than happy to conduct the audit of James’s account. No deposits had been made since James’s arrival. All correspondence and receipts Hutton had given him had been forged. The only account that had been opened was one containing twenty thousand pounds for Astra Keane. The stray bullet that had hummed by his ear had been less startling.
James yanked off his jacket, surprised Mr. Rudd wasn’t around to greet him. A new decanter of brandy sat on the sideboard. Two crystal goblets accompanied it, gleaming invitingly and possibly deadly.
In the village, the magistrate had thought it most likely Blackmore who had taken a shot at James on the country lane that cut a swath through the moor that led to Eastlan. James had immediately formed a different thought. And when the French chemist, Dr. Montague—referred to him by the retired prison doctor—could not find traces of arsenic in the brandy decanter from James’s room, deep inside he knew otherwise. He’d dismissed the man’s insistence to look to a woman for any kind of poisoning, probably the victim’s widow—as the culprit.
No words would alter James’s conviction that Wesley was trying to kill him, and the man grew more reckless and more daring with each failed attempt.
But seeking out the chemist had led him to Launceston, where he’d stumbled upon the bank whose name had appeared often in Eastlan’s ledgers. James figured it fate or destiny, but changed his mind once he realized where the trail he was following undeniably led. He didn’t tell the chemist about Astra’s poisoned garden, but he hadn’t had to. He’d begun to put the puzzle together in his mind.
Unfortunately, the chemist’s instance that women, the weaker sex, were most often the ones to use arsenic on a relative, coupled with the bank account in her name, forced James to rethink his intention to reveal his suspicions to the magistrate. Astra would be under too much scrutiny. Actually, the results of both his inquiries would lead a rational man to the same conclusion. When it came to Astra, James had to admit, he was far from rational. Never would he believe that she would have in any way harmed her late husband, willfully or otherwise. And the same held true for her current husband. Despite everything, he knew Astra cared for him, and damn it, he loved her.
James’s gaze landed on the brandy. Though he didn’t doubt Rudd had personally replaced and filled the decanter on the sideboard, James was not taking any chances. Wesley had to have an accomplice, probably someone inside the household who had access
to his rooms. Again, the most obvious person was unthinkable. Unfortunately, his heart’s insistence did not stop his head from rehashing the facts at every turn. If Astra had an account for twenty thousand pounds, why did she marry him? It turned his gut every time he recalled sitting in the bank manager’s office and receiving the news. The account had been open after James had arrived at Eastlan and had been steadily growing, deposits all by Wesley Hutton.
James discarded his vest and sat on the velvet sofa to remove his boots. Now that they were married, the account belonged to James. All Astra’s assets now belonged to James, a fact of which she was brutally aware. Was it possible she didn’t know about the account? James had to know the truth. And there was only one way to find out.
He stood and strode from his room. She was his wife and he had every right to barge in on her any damn time he wanted, even at this late hour when she would surely have already retired. It didn’t matter. Right now, right this minute, he wanted answers because all he had discovered on his extended journey were more questions.
He found Astra’s room in short order and grabbed the handle. After a pause caused by unjustified guilt that he quickly shook off, he abruptly opened the door. The quiet room subdued him with its absolute darkness. No fire warmed the hearth but that was to be expected. Spring had given way to summer and the warmth of the days had begun to spread to the night.
James quietly approached the bed swamped by memories of the first time he had snuck into Astra’s room. His body tightened at the soft floral scent filling the space. All his questions and speculations seemed mute in comparison to the sudden need to hold her, touch her, make love to Astra, his wife. He would have his answers then.
He sank onto the mattress already lost in the memory of the feel of her skin, the warmth of her body closing around him. As his eyes grew more accustomed to the shadows he slid his hands across the soft cotton spread, reaching for her. The bed was empty. James grabbed the covers and violently through them to the floor. Astra was gone and he was a bigger fool than he’d ever imagined.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Astra lay in James’s large bed and listened to the sounds of the empty house. Or so it had seemed as the last few days stretched into a listless forever without James’s vibrant presence. She refused to believe Wesley’s claim that James was with Melva. Astra intended to sleep in this bed every night until she discovered the truth. He might be able to turn her away in the light of day, but he would not do so behind closed doors. That’s where she’d discovered the man she had fallen in love with, and here he would instantly understand everything. If she could still reach him.
Footsteps in the hall urged her to sit up. She had been awakened by sounds in James’s sitting room moments ago but had convinced herself the noise was merely the wind stirring the trees and James wouldn’t be returning tonight. A door swung open in the hall and banged against the wall with a loud crash. Boots marched so quickly across James’s sitting room that the carpets hardly cushioned the reverberating echo.
Astra momentarily froze at the thought that Eastlan was under siege. When the door to the bedroom crashed open just as violently, she feared that an intruder had breached Eastlan’s stone fortress. James’s angry silhouette delivered only the briefest relief. He surged past her and into his dressing room where after a few more thuds, the glow of a candle edged out the shadows. Drawers slammed. James cursed.
Astra slipped from the bed, dragging a sheet with her. Perhaps the reasons for his departure were worse than the ones she had imagined. She cautiously followed James to his dressing room.
James had shed his shirt and was rummaging through drawers of a darkly varnished wardrobe so tall it scraped the ceiling. His breeches clung to his tense thighs. Muscles in his back bunched and strained under his efforts though it was hardly necessary. His slick skin hummed with violence.
“James?”
He swung around and stared at her as if she were wearing the sheet over her head rather than draped around her chest.
He slowly straightened, squaring his shoulders and filling his chest. He exhaled loudly.
“Where have you been?” His words might have been more comforting if he would have screamed his question rather than said them in the quiet reserve he obviously forced.
“I’ve been here. Where have you been?”
He took a step toward her and she took a step back. Her unconscious reaction seemed to shake him and he flinched slightly.
“I had business in Launceston. It kept me longer than expected.” He seemed to take in her appearance for the first time. His eyes widened and sensual interest clearly took over. “Why weren’t you in your room?”
She lowered her chin, letting her hair fall over one shoulder. She readjusted the sheet, gripping it tighter. Now that she realized he had not been in some sort of trouble, suspicions about Melva resurfaced. But she had come here for just this reason and she had to be bold. She lifted her chin. Let the sheet drop.
“I was in your bed. Waiting for you.”
James took a deep breath and she could almost see his pulse quicken beneath his flushed skin. He stalked toward her, his eyes roaming her body, locked on her breasts then dropping lower. Then his gaze shot to her eyes and he veered away from her, angling his body so as not to brush her as he left the small room.
Astra hung her head in defeat. Her chest squeezed dry and hot. She could not muster a tear if she tried. She bent down and grabbed her sheet, then squared her shoulders to face James. They could not live like this. Absolute scandal was better.
For her perhaps, but not for her unborn child. She must make James talk to her, see her, listen to her.
She retrieved the candle James had lit and followed him into the other room. He stared at the unmade bed, lifted the covers, then dropped them. After a visual search of the bedroom, he went into his sitting room, and she heard the click of the lock. James immediately returned to the bedroom and shut the door behind him, locking that door as well.
Astra set the candle on the nearest surface she could find, a pedestal bearing a statue of a Grecian bust, and scanned the room for a way out, or at least something to hide behind. James’s strange behavior frightened her.
He strode toward her. “Come here.”
The softness in his tone urged her to forget reason and do as he said.
He grabbed her when she was within arm’s length and fiercely held her against his bare chest. The beat of his heart thudded against her, urging her to change the rhythm of her breath to match his. He bent his knees and nudged the hard ridge of his erection between her thighs. Lust and longing weakened her knees. How she had dreamed of him touching her like this these long lonely days. His masculine scent, musk, lime and something uniquely him, enveloped her. She released her grip on the sheet to wrap her arms around James’s neck.
She turned her face to his and he covered her mouth. His kiss was passionate, hard and desperate. His heavy breathing and the press of his hips warned her he was primed to take her. His hand slipped to her lower back, holding her in place so he could press his erection more firmly against her mound. Her inner lips warmed and pulsed at the contact. She was as eager as he to connect in the only way they seemed to find mutual peace. Lost in the feel of their tangled bodies.
He pulled his mouth from hers and brushed her hair with his palm. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I feared you’d left with Hutton.”
Astra caught her breath. It never occurred to her that James would worry over what he might perceive as her reaction to Wesley’s dismissal. She gazed into his eyes, letting the dampness in her own show clearly.
“You are my husband and I love you. You might not believe the latter, but the first is unarguably true. I would never leave you.” He studied her and she thought she saw something hopeful in his gaze. Astra rushed on before he concealed his obvious vulnerability. “You might not have liked the circumstance but we are bound together for better or worse. I want it to be for the better. And I will d
o everything in my power to make that so.”
His eyelids grew heavy. He dipped his head and kissed her again. The hunger in his kiss and the way he arched against her led her to expect him to guide her to the floor and take her on the carpet. Instead, he lifted her into his arms. His actions were more efficient than gallant. He quickly deposited her onto the bed and went to work on removing his boots. Astra sat back on her elbows and watched him.
He tossed aside his stockings, then shucked his breeches. Astra admired the thick cords of muscles bunched under his skin. The unrelenting angle of his erection hinted that he had missed her as much as she him. Her gaze moved to his face and she noticed the tired lines around his eyes and mouth. Fully nude, he straightened and brushed his fingers through the tangled hair that had fallen across his face. He looked wild, dangerous and hungry.
And then his gaze fell on her and she could not turn away from the intensity in his eyes. Did not want to. In that moment, he made her feel as if she was the only woman in the world and he’d just discovered her.
He crawled over her, covering her completely with the length of his lean, well-muscled body. Astra sobbed at the contact, arching toward him. His knees parted her legs, wedging his heavy cock between her thighs.
She gasped at the sensation. Her sensitive nipples that had begun to ache in the early stages of her pregnancy sent erotic pulses dancing across her nerves at the brush of James’s hard chest. He groaned at the contact, his breath against her neck, his masculine scent flooding her senses, sending liquid heat to her sex. She undulated her hips to rub herself against James’s length, coating him with her arousal. He gripped the back of her head, gathering her against him for his spearing kiss.
Astra’s body coiled at his fierce reaction. She ached to have him inside her, filling her so all her senses were overtaken by him. She wedged her hand between them and gripped him in a firm stroke.