The Foundling Bride

by Helen Dickson

  Lowena faced him with hatred burning in the depths of her eyes. ‘You have a black heart, Edward Carberry,’ she said, her voice trembling with anger, ‘and I despise you. It will be your own wickedness and greed that will bring about your destruction.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ he retorted coldly, unperturbed. ‘However, we can argue about that another day. I must get back to the matter in hand.’

  His hand shot out with the quickness of a snake about to strike, his fingers closing round her chin and his face thrusting close to hers. ‘Understand this, Lowena. I require your full co-operation tonight. Do you understand me?’

  Taking note of her pallor and the trembling he could feel in her body, his instinct told him she would do as she was told and his lips stretched in an odious smile of triumph.

  ‘You really have no choice. Do as I require and nothing unpleasant will happen to you. But I promise you, Lowena, that you will regret doing anything to make me angry.’

  Releasing his grip on her chin, turning quickly, he strode away from her, making his way down to the cove.

  He was gone before Lowena could recover enough to reply. There had been an underlying warning in the lightness of his words, and she knew the seriousness of it. A new kind of fear stole over her when she realised he meant to do her harm if she did not comply with his demands.

  Finding what shelter she could beneath the cliff, she waited, listening to the waves rolling and crashing to the shore, trying to penetrate the rain and the gloom to watch what was taking place in the cove. There was no horizon where the interminable stretch of sea met the sky, but as her eyes adjusted to the dark she could make out the rocks and the solidity of the cliffs, and the crouched, motionless, ghostly figures of men on the sand below, facing the sea, their eyes fastened on the rolling breakers.

  After about half an hour she could make out a thin pinprick of light, which only just penetrated the curtain of rain and bobbed about like a cockleshell on the storm-tossed sea. Then the hull of the vessel everyone was waiting for appeared.

  Lowena knew the risk Edward Carberry was taking to chance a run on a night like this. There was every danger that the vessel carrying the contraband would be washed up on the shore or, worse, driven onto the rocks where it would break up.

  Suddenly everything seemed to happen at once. It was a scene Lowena had watched many times before. Each man sprang forward. They knew precisely what to do. There was method in their work which they accomplished quickly, their actions hurried. They were mere shadows in the dark of the night, coming and going between the boat and the sands, wading through the freezing water, moving with precision and urgency, their minds set on their purpose—humping kegs and packages up the beach to the packhorses and wagons that waited like phantoms to carry the booty to a safe hiding place or to travel across the moor before dawn.

  Not until the last man and horse had left the cove did Lowena turn and head for home.

  Apart from the glow of the lamp Lowena had left burning in the kitchen, the house was in darkness. Weary and impatient to get out of her wet clothes, she let herself in and removed her cloak, unaware of the man standing close to the range to feed off its warmth.

  Having stirred the fire into life and removed his shirt and boots, he was rubbing his wet hair dry with a towel. Not having slept or eaten properly in two days, his face was taut with strain, and there were dark circles around his eyes.

  When Lowena entered he turned to look at her, unable to conceal his surprise. ‘Lowena...’

  Stopped in her tracks, all Lowena could do was stare at him. For an endless moment their gazes locked as they assessed one another. Slowly the dawning of understand filled his eyes. His entire body tensed and his jaw clenched so tightly that a muscle began to throb in his cheek. His granite features were an impenetrable mask as he threw the towel into a chair and moved towards her, staring at her, his chest bare and his silver-grey eyes piercing through her even though he wasn’t really seeing her at all.

  In frigid, trembling silence she waited for him to speak, desperately wanting to justify herself for what was to come.

  ‘Where have you been—or do I really need to ask?’ he demanded.

  Shaking her head, she tried not to look at him too closely—at his tangled wet hair and his naked body above his waist, gleaming in the firelight. Through an ache in her throat, she whispered, ‘No—no, you don’t. I think you know well enough. There was a run tonight.’

  She stared searchingly at him, not quite certain of his mood, but sensing his anger. As he continued to look at her his face was so bitter that her chest was filled with remorse.

  ‘I can’t believe you have done this,’ he flared, fighting the urge to wrap her in his arms until her shivering ceased and she grew warm again. ‘Why, Lowena? After all that has been said, why did you go?’

  ‘Because there was no one else.’

  ‘But why you?’ he demanded. ‘Did Edward come here and drag you to the cliff top?’

  Swamped in her own misery, she shook her head. ‘No—he sent someone. I told you. I went because there was no one else. I know what he is doing is wrong, but if your brother is caught it will not be by my doing, Marcus.’

  Marcus’s eyes narrowed. ‘You little fool. Perhaps he should be caught. At least that would put an end to this cloud we’re all living under, caused by his illegal activities.’

  ‘Then it is up to you—his brother—to do something about it. But have a care. When you came home from America he—he threatened to harm you should you stop me watching the cliff path on the nights when there’s a run or interfere in his affairs in any way.’

  Marcus stared at her. The mere thought that Edward had made Lowena his pawn once more in his illegal venture, putting the fear of God into her that he would do him harm if stopped her, almost sent him over the edge.

  ‘And was this the reason you went tonight—because you thought he would harm me in some way if you didn’t do his bidding?’

  She nodded dumbly. ‘I was afraid he would carry out his threat.’

  ‘Edward will not harm me—and, besides, I fight my own battles. Tell me, Lowena, if I had not seen you come back just now, did you intend telling me?’

  Lowena actually flinched at the cold, ruthless fury in his eyes. ‘I—I don’t think I could have kept it to myself, knowing you would be bound to find out.’

  ‘How vastly obliging of you,’ he growled.

  ‘Please, Marcus,’ she implored him, drowning in agony. ‘I didn’t want to go—I swear it.’

  She shook her head, the tears she could no longer contain spilling down her cheeks. Feeling the damp chill of her wet clothes, she shivered. Her skirts felt like dead weights about her trembling legs. She stretched out her hand in a gesture of mute appeal, then let it fall to her side when it got her nothing but a blast of contempt from his cold eyes.

  Her tears failed to move him. ‘Pray, continue. I am listening.’

  ‘When I came in and saw you I was ready to admit where I had been. I’d never willingly displease you. Now you have berated me as you saw fit, and I deeply regret that I have angered you, that you think I have failed you. But I don’t think I can bear your scorn and contempt.’

  ‘After all I have done—after threatening my own brother for continuing to involve you in his nefarious schemes—I thought that would be an end to it. Only to find that the minute he tells you to jump, you do so without argument. Do you expect me to act as if nothing has happened?’

  She shook her head dejectedly. ‘No, of course I don’t—and whatever you might have thought when you discovered what I had done I cannot blame you. But what I did I did not do willingly. In trying to protect you I have made you angry. You have no idea how I hate myself for not being brave enough to refuse your brother.’

  Her statement was made simply and came from the heart, and for a mom
ent Marcus felt his resolve weakening. Her head was bent forward, her hair hanging like a wet curtain on either side, concealing her face from his view. She looked so small, so vulnerable, that he felt a twinge of conscience.

  ‘Listen to me, Lowena, and listen well. If you believe Edward will not do you any harm if you do his bidding then you are foolishly mistaken. He is not that noble. He will do exactly as he wants as long as it suits him to do so. Now, there are two things I have to say to you. Firstly, you are not to go near the house under any circumstances. Secondly, any message that is delivered to you passes through me. I say this because, unlike my brother, I am deeply concerned for your safety.

  ‘I do not blame you for what you have done tonight. I only regret that I wasn’t here to stop you. God knows what would happen to you if the Revenue men came along and you were caught with the rest of them. I wish to keep as much distance between Edward and myself as is possible. When something like this happens it only serves to deepen the animosity we already feel for each other, which is something I wish to avoid.’

  He looked at her and saw afresh the state she was in. He drew in a breath. With her hair hanging loose she looked pale and bedraggled, even pitiful as she stood there, shivering on the point of collapse.

  Something in his chest tightened. ‘Look at you,’ he murmured. ‘You’re soaked through. You should get out of those wet clothes.’

  Placing a gentle finger under her chin, he compelled her to meet his eyes.

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered, her teeth chattering. ‘I suppose I should.’

  He had already noted that she was chilled to the bone. But it was more than the cold that was causing her body to tremble. She was only now realising, he guessed, how afraid she was of Edward and his threats.

  Opening his arms, he said, ‘Come here,’ and when she came into them he could feel her body trembling. ‘There’s nothing to fear. Edward can’t hurt you now,’ he said, gently stroking her wet hair before pressing his cheek against it. ‘Promise me you will avoid Edward.’

  Edward’s persistence in getting close to Lowena worried him more than he wanted her to know.

  ‘I do promise.’

  Marcus supressed a smile, suspecting her docility was a measure of her cold and fatigue. ‘I think we’ve got to get you out of those wet clothes before you catch your death.’

  Scooping her up into his arms, he carried her out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her room.

  Chapter Five

  Pushing open Lowena’s bedroom door, Marcus sat her on the bed while he quickly lit the candle on the bedside table. It soon cast a warm orange glow about the room.

  Kneeling on the floor, he hesitantly raised her skirt and pulled off her sodden boots and stockings, almost without being aware of what he did, so concerned was he to get her out of her wet things. Getting to his feet, he raised her up as he would a child and unfastened the buttons down the back of her dress, peeling the icy garment off her shoulders and down.

  Like an obedient child she stepped out of it, standing in her petticoat and looking up at him, her arms covering her breasts. She continued to shiver.

  His gaze was drawn to her face, to her cold, trembling lips. Her eyes, which had avoided looking at him directly, now clung to his, sending a message that was easy for him to decipher. The room was a warm and intimate place to be. Suddenly there was a different quality to the atmosphere between them. And they were completely alone.

  Marcus felt heat flare in his belly. He raised a finger and gently brushed a remaining tear from the sweet curve of her cheek. She did not speak or move, but her eyes darkened almost to black as her pupils dilated. At that moment, more than anything in the world, he wanted to take her to bed and make love to her. Had she made the smallest seductive gesture that she was willing he might have taken her there and then, quickly, in the heat of the moment.

  But this was Lowena, innocent and inexperienced in the ways of men, not a mere body to be used quickly and cast aside. But with her amber eyes darkened and the soft creaminess of her shoulders and the firm mounds of her breasts straining against her damp petticoat, their nipples chilled and rigid, how could any man with blood in his veins withstand her?

  ‘Tell me,’ he murmured, tracing his finger along the line of her shoulder, ‘how does a woman who has done what you have done tonight, and returned soaked to the skin, manage to look as lovely as you do?’ His finger continued slowly up the slender column of her neck. ‘You have wonderful eyes—did you know that?—and your skin is as soft as velvet.’

  Lowena opened her mouth and drew in a deep, quivering breath, letting it out against the palm of his hand which cupped her cheek. She lifted her gaze to his, and somewhere in the depths of those silver eyes looking down at her she saw something deep and profound and silent, holding her captive, promising her something inviting, something exciting.

  ‘I—I cannot say.’ The touch of his finger on her flesh made her shiver with excitement.

  ‘Can you not?’ His voice was low and seductive, his fingers curling round her nape and drawing her head closer.

  ‘No...’ she breathed. His lips were perilously close.

  Suffused by the scent of her, and finding her too bewitching to resist, slowly he covered her mouth with his, warming her. He heard her sigh and felt her shudder, and when her hands tentatively came to rest against his chest he deepened the kiss. He realised with a surge of desire that her demureness and naivety hid a woman of passion and courage—and he wanted her. He wanted to lie her down on the bed and draw those inviting hips beneath him, to have her long, lithe legs wrapped around him and to fill his mouth with the taste of her.

  The fierceness of his wanting startled him.

  Relinquishing her lips, he looked down at her upturned face. ‘Lowena...’ the word was husky ‘...any minute now and I am likely to forget I shouldn’t be here alone with you.’

  ‘I know—but please don’t leave me,’ she murmured, moving closer, seeking the warm haven of his arms and solace from the turmoil of her emotions.

  She could not bear it if he did not stay. This man she had adored all her life represented safety and security, and his concern was making her feel cherished and protected.

  Immediately Marcus’s body responded to her plea. He tried to remind himself of who she was—who he was—but all he could think about was losing himself in the sweetness of her. All he could see was the quiver of her tantalising mouth, urging him to kiss her into insensibility.

  Aware of all this time of being around her, watching her, of the fatigue of the past few days battling with the water at the mine and the unrelenting rain, he sighed deeply. All he was conscious of at that moment was the woman in his arms, the self-denial and frustration that was driving him beyond restraint.

  ‘I know what I am doing is wrong,’ he said hoarsely, with his last vestiges of reason, ‘and that this is insane...’ But his words were lost as he lowered his mouth and then, like a fire, came the sudden abdication of all common sense.

  Lost in the exciting, exotic beauty of her, he groaned as her lips opened and he tasted her warm tongue. And then, with a long, shuddering sigh, he felt their bodies fuse together. His fingers threaded through her hair, drawing her closer. Without releasing her he somehow managed to divest her of her petticoat, and anything else that got in his way, and she emerged creamy white and gloriously beautiful. Her arms clung to him and her mouth to his. Only once, in exasperation, did she assist him in his task, obsessed with having his mouth on hers without delay.

  His hands found her breasts, the nipples hard between his fingers, before moving on to span her small waist and the full curve of her hips. Her arms were about his neck, drawing him to her, and her mouth was like a living flame as he removed what clothes he had left. Only now, when they were both naked, did he lay her down on the bed, but then, instead of joining her, he k
nelt before her, placing his hands on either side of her waist.

  Through half-lowered lids Lowena watched him, and shivered at the marvellous perfection of his body—earthy, muscular and splendidly virile.

  Marcus saw where her mesmerised gaze had settled, and the touch of it sent raw need quaking through his body. His hand slid up her inner thigh, making her gasp, and proceeded upwards to cup her breasts before he leaned forward and with exquisite tenderness pressed his lips where his hands had gone before.

  She gasped with shock beneath his assault. He was stirring such sensations in her—desire and heat and unbelievable pleasure. A small, insidious voice whispered caution, reminding her that to take this relationship further would bring her nothing but heartbreak, but another voice was whispering something else—not to let the moment pass, to catch it and hold on to it.

  Only this moment existed. His mouth, his hands, the scent of him and his hard male body, insistent and eager. The fact that he was there, that he wanted her, superseded any reflection on the possible consequences.

  Marcus brushed back the damp tendrils of her hair. In a moment of sanity he paused and looked down at her face, flushed with passion, suddenly swamped with self-loathing for taking her innocence.

  ‘You are a virgin, Lowena. You don’t have to do this. I will not force you.’

  She gave him a little smile. ‘I know, but don’t stop—not now.’

  ‘For what reason do you surrender your virginity to me when I have nothing to offer you?’

  ‘It’s all right—it doesn’t matter...’ she whispered as his lips moved to her throat, her mouth.

  And then slowly he drew her against him.

  She moaned and strained beneath him, her response arousing him even further, and he fought for control, his corded muscles contracting into hard knots. He found her trembling innocence incredibly erotic, and suddenly he was without sight or hearing as his manhood quested between her open thighs.