The Temptation of Laura

by Rachel Brimble

  “Laura, wait.”

  She rushed for the door and yanked it open. What had she done? What had Adam exposed himself to by saving her and Bette from Malcolm that night? This wasn’t who she was. Laura Robinson helped women and friends; she didn’t make their lives worse. The walls closed in on her and her breathing turned harried.

  “I have to go. I’m sorry.” Remembering the note she had for Monica, she thrust it at her. “Here. A gentleman in the audience . . . I forgot. Take care of yourself.”

  She rushed into the corridor, her mind reeling. She would wait until Adam left for Bristol in the morning; then she and Bette would be gone upon his return.

  Nausea swirled in Laura’s stomach as Adam came down the stairs of his town house. Unbeknownst to him, this would be their final moment together. She shivered against a sense of foreboding that crept like icy fingers up her spine. Resisted the ache in her heart wanting to rush forward and embrace him. He reached the bottom stair and laid his suitcase at his feet. His gaze wandered over her face before he gently cupped her jaw.

  “I will be back before you know it and then we can hit rehearsals full force.” He hesitated. “If everything goes as planned with the investor, I hope I can at least persuade the Theater Royal here in Bath to take a risk with my play.”

  Laura exhaled a shaky breath. “I’m sure everything will work out perfectly.”

  He smiled. “You and I both know you are going to make this play fifty times better than it would be with someone else as Lucinda.”

  “I certainly could do no better with you and Monica as my tutors.” She forced a smile, hating the way she deceived him.

  What else could she do? If she told him what happened at the theater the night before, he wouldn’t leave for Bristol but would undoubtedly go looking for Baxter.

  “You must consider Monica and I as your allies.” Adam’s voice dragged her from her thoughts. “We want this for you as much as you do for yourself. You must turn to her whilst I am gone.”

  She pushed aside the hurt she felt when he referred to the two of them as allies. Did he not think them more than that? “I will.”

  “Monica sees so much potential in you.”

  Words battled on her tongue. She longed to ask him if every kiss he gave her, every embrace, every stroke of her skin meant more than a balm for his own satisfaction. He was a good man, but she did not need saving by him. She yearned for him to look at her as an equal. As a woman.

  She stared into his eyes. “Why is Monica so generous with her time when she won’t even be in this play? I long to trust you, her, and a million and one other people, but I won’t lie to you. It’s hard for Bette and I to do that after being deceived so many times.”

  His smile slipped. “You do not believe our caring for you is genuine.”

  Care? I don’t want you to care! I want desire, love, respect. . . . “No.”

  He stepped away from her, tilted his head back, and planted his hands on his hips.

  Laura’s heart picked up speed and her determination soared. Second by silent second, the romantic clouds drifted away, leaving behind the realistic, down-to-earth woman she was before she met him.

  He dropped his chin. “Monica knows Baxter.”

  Laura stiffened. Was he about to tell her he intended to go after Baxter? “Do you know how?”

  His jaw tightened and he looked to a spot past her shoulder. “She would not tell me, but it does not take a genius to work out her relationship with a man like that.”

  Laura carefully studied him as pride swelled behind her ribcage. “Am I another project, Adam?”

  “What?”

  “I know how you helped make Monica what she is today. Isn’t that what you’re trying to do for me too?”

  His jaw tightened. “How can you think that?”

  “How can I not?”

  He moved to touch her and then halted as if he’d changed his mind. He pushed his hand into his hair, his gaze confused. “Yes, I helped her, but this . . . us . . . is different.”

  “I’ve looked after myself for far too long to want or need anything from anyone. I think deep down you want me to stay because you think you can save me.”

  “Goddamn it, Laura. I did not save Monica. The woman was, and still is, as full of spunk and verve as you. I do not feel I saved her, and I am not trying to save you. I see your potential. Potential that should not be wasted because society will not give you a chance.”

  The question she really longed to ask . . . the issue that really bothered her stung on her tongue. Dented pride and hurt reeled inside. Their eyes locked and the atmosphere shifted.

  His brown eyes darkened with passion and she fought the need to have him take her in his arms and hold her as he had yesterday afternoon.

  It was clear from his talk of her potential that she couldn’t dwell on their intimate moments. Why did fate have to be so cruel to have her dream of seeing more than ambition in his eyes when he looked at her?

  “Monica and I never laid together, Laura.” His voice was velvet soft. “Nothing of any intimacy has ever occurred between us.”

  She stared as unease rippled through her. He saw through her so easily. She’d become entirely incapable of hiding her thoughts and feelings from him. She lifted her shoulders. “It would not bother me. The decision to sleep with you was mine.”

  He gripped her waist. “Our lovemaking meant a lot to me. I do not want you to think what is happening here is about me swooping in to save anyone. Monica came into my path expecting nothing. I will not regret doing something to help her, and I will not regret this time with you either.”

  She studied him. Nothing but sincerity shone back at her from the depths of his eyes. How she longed to trust him, but that notion would never come to fruition. She’d been burned too many times to stride headlong into a potential disaster. Her attraction and passions for this man had already led to decisions beyond her usual control.

  If she stayed longer, Lord only knew what would happen next. She would not allow Adam to mist her eyes and fool her heart.

  She tilted her chin. “People matter to me, Adam. The theater will always come second to that. Always.”

  He smiled. “I would not have that change for me or anyone else. Just because I live and breathe the theater, that does not mean I expect the same from you. All I know is you are meant to be Lucinda, but you have to feel her too . . . in here.”

  He touched his hand to her breast and her body instantly heated. The connection between them was dangerous. He stepped closer and pressed his lips to her jaw and lower to her neck. Her center pulled and her nipples tightened.

  “Adam, stop.”

  He pulled back and met her eyes. “I have never met anyone like you.”

  She cursed the instant desire that curled her toes. She’d been down this road before and it had become her personal nightmare. She stepped back and absently brought her hand to her stomach.

  “Our time together is something I’ll never forget.” She drew in a strengthening breath. “But we mustn’t lose sight of who we are. I didn’t lie with you as an act of gratitude or expecting anything in return. I did it because I wanted to.”

  “As did I.” His gaze hardened. “I had hoped you would have felt that. Known I was with you. Not Lucinda. Not the play. Not the theater. I did not expect to feel so strongly about you, but I should have known it was inevitable from the moment I laid eyes on you.”

  She pulled her shoulders back in an effort to heighten her resolve. She had to leave him. Leave Bath. For his sake, even more than hers. Baxter would not let her go easily. That much she knew.

  He took her hand. “Say you will be here when I get back.”

  Tears burned the back of her eyes. Shame furled inside her stomach. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

  Color darkened his cheeks and he smiled as he released her hand to pick up his case. “Then I will ask nothing more of you.” He glanced toward the front door. “I must go.”


  His gaze wandered over her face and hair a final time before he turned and opened the door. He turned, his handsome face alight with fervor. “Our future is going to be amazing. Promise me you will think about that for the entirety I am in Bristol.”

  She nodded and forced a small smile. “I will.”

  He hesitated before nodding curtly and heading down the steps and into the gray morning. With her breath catching in her throat, Laura hurried forward. He waved down a passing hansom cab and, without looking back, climbed inside.

  From the steps of her lover’s home, she stood stock-still until the cab disappeared out of sight. Turning, Laura went back inside and closed the door, their conversation tumbling through her mind and conscience. It was for her protection and his that she had said she would be there when he returned.

  Tears broke. What if his child grew inside her? What if she lost another blessed babe? She had no right to expect anything from him and needed to take care of herself, Bette . . . and whomever else came along, alone.

  Chapter 16

  Laura pushed away from the door and swiped at her cheeks as she hurried upstairs to dress. The walls were closing in on her, and her heart was nothing more than a traitorous problem residing in her chest. She needed to get some things to take with them if she and Bette were to leave today.

  Her head ached with tension as she entered the guest bedroom and pulled open a dresser drawer. Where would they go? Bette traveling to London was an impossible notion considering the state of her health. Laura retrieved a shawl and wrapped it around her shoulders. Bristol was no longer an option because Adam would undoubtedly be there for the coming months.

  That left the surrounding villages.

  She grimaced as she tied her boots. She’d never considered country life before because of her embedded love of the city. Nothing but fields and animals day after day. This might have filled some people with peace, but it filled her with dread and an innate burden of isolation.

  Putting her off more than anything was the fact she was in the country when she lost her baby. Traveling to see a lover who promised her the world—who promised farm life would suit her once she left the bustle of the city. What a fool she’d been to think men who came visiting Bath had any intention of giving a teenage whore a future.

  It wasn’t a broken promise that lingered in her blood—it was the miscarriage of her unborn child. A baby she’d known was made because the lovemaking felt wholly different than ever before. Tears smarted her eyes and she hastily blinked them away. The passion, hope, and love she’d harbored for her baby’s father had given them the blessing of a child. It was fear the same sensations had pulsed through her under Adam’s caresses and love that frightened her more than anything.

  Inhaling a deep breath, she looked around the room. What other choice did she and Bette have but to flee? Yet, she couldn’t ease the fear of what it would do to Bette’s condition, traveling into town, let alone enduring an undoubtedly rough and bumpy ride by coach into Saltford or somewhere similar.

  She left the room and headed toward the stairs. They had limited money and limited resources. Lord only knew how they’d manage past a fortnight without her earnings from the theater. The sense of finality that squeezed her heart when speaking with Adam earlier reappeared. Why did she have to fall for the man?

  As she descended the stairs, she shivered.

  Something was wrong. Here. In the house. A sense of impending doom cast its shadow around her.

  She reached the bottom stair and Nurse’s muffled voice filtered from the back room. Laura lifted her chin and shoved her negativity aside. No matter what, her life was settled with Bette. Without her, it tipped and dipped until she felt sick with dread. Doing something tangible would only silence the little voice inside her saying she was running scared from her life, while constantly living through others.

  Another shiver ran up her spine and she glanced toward the back room.

  She swallowed. Getting them away from Bath would be the best thing in the long run. Her feelings for Adam were just a symptom of wanting more—of wanting a real, bona-fide relationship one day. Undoubtedly, the break from whoring and having a taste of something better had caused her to lose her mind a little. Once she and Bette were packed up and on the road, reality would ground her once more.

  Looking to the mirror, she pinned her hat into place with shaking fingers.

  “Miss Laura, where are you?” Nurse’s hurried footsteps clattered along the parquet flooring.

  Laura froze as every instinct in her body screamed of danger.

  She spun around. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “It’s Miss Windsor. I’m so sorry.”

  Panic ripped through Laura’s blood on an icy-cold stream as she looked past Nurse along the hallway. “What do you mean, you’re sorry? Has something happened?”

  “She’s dead, miss. I’m sorry.”

  Laura stared. No. No. No! “You’re wrong. She can’t be.”

  She brushed past Nurse, their shoulders knocking, causing the other woman to stumble backward. “Get Dr. Penders. Now. Run there as fast as you can.”

  A vile, metallic horror coated Laura’s mouth as she rushed forward. Don’t do this to me, Bette. Don’t you dare leave me. Tears blurred her vision and she stumbled into the back room. “Bette. Oh, God. No.”

  Her beloved friend was slumped motionless in the wheelchair, her head tilted to the side, her mouth gaping lifelessly open, and her pallor that of an old woman. Tears burned and scalded Laura’s eyes as she touched Bette’s forehead and her cheek. She was warm, but so very still.

  “Bette. Bette, please.” She shook her shoulders and Bette’s head lolled backward. “No, please.”

  Laura drew her friend into her arms and held her tight. “Come on, Bette. Talk to me. Let’s sing, shall we? What shall we sing?” Tears ran like hot wax down Laura’s cheeks, searing and burning. “Please sing with me. Please.”

  The minutes passed like hours while she waited, holding and rocking Bette, memories of their years together tumbling through her mind.

  “Laura? It’s Dr. Penders.”

  She gently eased Bette back into the chair and kissed her cheek. “It’s all right, the doctor’s here now. It will be all right.”

  Dr. Penders appeared in the doorway just as she pushed to her feet. Their eyes briefly met before the doctor strode to Bette and placed his fingers at her neck. Laura trembled, her heart splitting and cracking. She pushed her fist into her mouth to stop from screaming aloud as the doctor leaned his ear to Bette’s mouth.

  If she dies, it’s my fault. Talking with Adam, fretting over the state of my stupid heart instead of looking after her.

  She swiped at her tears. She had no right to cry. No right at all. She looked to Dr. Penders and inside screamed, Tell me she’s alive. Tell me!

  The kindly doctor shook his head, his eyes glazed with tears. “I’m sorry, Laura.”

  She sucked in a breath that scratched her throat, like the sharpened blade of a knife, and staggered forward. She fell to her knees in front of the woman who’d shared her life for so long.

  Her heart split in two as she dropped her face into Bette’s lap and her friend’s skirts muffled the howl that ripped from deep inside Laura. How could she go on? Would Bette ever forgive her for meeting Adam? For falling in love and neglecting the only person she could ever count on?

  “Bette, don’t leave me. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  Adam grimaced. The coach journey from Bath to Bristol would have been an uneventful one if he had not been squashed between a woman of ample stature and her daughter, who clearly wanted to make herself known to him in ways that left little to the imagination. Once upon a time, her pretty blond curls and delicate porcelain features might have caught his interest. The expensive and flamboyantly rich color of her clothes even more so. Clearly, the young woman’s parents were not short of a penny or two. His ambition would have made her a tempting prospect.

&nbs
p; However, any philandering came to an abrupt stop the moment he set eyes on Laura. She inspired him to be more and want more. He smiled. Good God, she would give these two a run for their money and leave them quaking in her wake. Silliness and vanity were so low on Laura’s list of priorities, it was laughable.

  The coach drew to a stop at the bottom of Park Street and Adam levered himself out from where he was wedged. He came free with an almost audible pop. He touched a finger to his hat and smiled at mother and daughter in turn.

  “Well, it was very nice to meet you, ladies. Enjoy your time in Bristol.”

  He stepped from the coach and succinctly slammed the door just as the mother made a lunge for his sleeve. Forcing a wide smile, Adam waved as the coach rolled away. He released his held breath. Undoubtedly a lucky escape.

  Shaking his head, he lifted his overnight bag from the cobbled pavement and strode toward the hotel where he had booked a room for the night. It was also where he had arranged to meet Lady Annabel Harvard, otherwise known as his interested investor.

  Adam tightened his jaw. He should not be there. He should have gone straight to the audition and then caught the first coach back to Bath. Had being in Laura’s company not taught him anything? A person did not run from trouble—or take the easiest solution to the detriment of their soul. They kept their integrity and strode the right path for as long as it lasted. Yet, here he was, walking straight along the wrong one.

  He should continue to take his script to every theater in town and scout the actors’ studios and bars for an interested director or producer. He should not be entertaining this meeting. He should not be seeing Annabel again. If all was as innocent as he had told himself a thousand times since he left the house, he would have told Laura the investor’s name. He had not. Which was as good as lying.

  The bronze-colored canopy of the Royal Hotel came into view and Adam’s footsteps slowed. Nothing untoward had happened thus far, and if he had his way, nothing would. He intended on making it clear to Annabel he would welcome her money as a bona-fide investor, nothing more.