by Stella Riley
It was precisely what she had wanted but somehow it didn’t feel like a victory. With a feeble ‘thank you’, Kate let him usher her silently up the stairs and, when the parlour door closed behind them, waited resignedly for the storm to break.
‘So.’ Luciano eyed her broodingly over folded arms. ‘You’re staying with Amy. Why?’
‘She’s pregnant.’
‘Ah. And the sisterly affection between you being so strong, she couldn’t bear to go through the experience without you. Is that it?’
‘No. You know it isn’t.’
‘Precisely. So let’s start again, shall we? You came to see me. You probably also have some muddled notion of settling here in connubial bliss. The first was a mistake. The second is little short of lunacy.’
‘I know. Or, at least, I knew you’d say so.’ Drawing a long, fortifying breath, Kate decided to take the bull by the horns. ‘Personally, however, I can’t see the point. Your nasty friend knows all about us, anyway.’
Luciano became perfectly still.
‘Explain.’
‘Do you want the minutiae or will the bare bones do? Half a flock of sheep poisoned, a barn full of hay reduced to ashes and a stream of other minor irritations. You must know the kind of thing. Mother tells me you’ve been having similar difficulties yourself. And no – she didn’t break your confidence lightly. But when your friend’s hirelings made off with Jude, it was time to stop being coy.’
‘Oh hell.’ The blood drained slowly from Luciano’s skin. ‘You’d better sit down and tell me.’
So she did; and at the end, said flatly, ‘Since this man obviously knows – if not that we’re married, at least that there is some connection between us – I can’t see any use in further pretence. More important still, I think it’s time you told me the whole story. You must have realised that I’ve already worked out most of it … and if I’m to join you in the firing-line, I think I’ve a right to know why.’
Still standing beside the table, Luciano laid his fingers lightly along its polished edge and frowned down at them. Finally, he said remotely, ‘If I am to tell you anything at all, you must promise me one thing. That – no matter what happens – you will never involve yourself in it. Make no mistake about it, Caterina – this man you persist in calling my friend is dangerous. He has killed at least once that I know of. And if you get in his way or betray even the smallest sign of knowing what he is about, he won’t hesitate to brush you from his path – or, worse still, use you as a pawn in his game. Do I make myself quite clear?’
‘Yes.’ Kate felt sick. ‘You’re saying that one day he’ll kill you.’
‘He’ll almost certainly try. But what I’m actually trying to say is much worse than that.’ He paused and summoned every ounce of strength. ‘I can’t be sure … I may never be sure … but I suspect him of murdering your father.’
Silence stretched out on invisible threads. And then Kate said carefully, ‘Yes. I rather thought you did. But I wasn’t sure if you’d bring yourself to tell me.’ She waited for a moment, watching his fingers whiten against the dark wood of the table and, when he still did not speak, said, ‘I’ve had a long time in which to think of it – and after Jude was taken and Mother told me that this man knows who you are and why you’re looking for him, everything else started to fall into place. If he was the same person Father followed to Cropredy … well, the conclusions were pretty obvious.’
Very slowly, Luciano left the table and crossed the room to sit beside her. He was extremely pale and his eyes held a look that was more worrying than anything he had said. ‘As you say, you know nearly all of it,’ he remarked, folding her hand in a light clasp. ‘So I suppose it behoves me to tell you the rest. And I will – when you’ve first given me the promise I asked for.’
Since there was no help for it, Kate promised; and then sat perfectly still while, with a complete absence of emotion, he unfolded the tale from its beginning. And when it was done, he said aridly, ‘So there you have it. Unless I can somehow lure him into coming for me himself, I am facing a blank wall … and the advantages are all on his side. I know that he is a King’s man and that – since it was what drew Richard to him – he is wearing my ring, which in turn means that he presumably murdered Samuel Fisher himself. I can also recognise his handwriting. But none of that is enough. And lacking a miracle, I’m never going to be free of him.’
Kate’s cheeks were wet. She said unevenly, ‘Can’t you stop? He must know you can’t trace him. If you stop, surely he’ll leave you alone?’
‘Everybody’s favourite theory,’ came the wry response. ‘And my answer has always been that it’s too great a risk. But heavier persuasions have been laid in the balance since then. I began this because I felt I owed it to my father – and that is still true. But the last two years have taught me that the world will be a better place when this particular bastard is no longer in it. Also, if he murdered Richard, I want his head. So I won’t stop until I either get it or lose my own in the attempt.’ He paused and managed a twisted smile. ‘This is where you’re supposed to damn me for marrying you.’
She drew a long, shuddering breath.
‘I can’t. You know I can’t.’
‘No? Well that’s comforting – because it brings me to the only thing I haven’t yet told you.’ His hands tightened on hers and his voice gathered a note she had heard only once before. ‘You should know that I didn’t make love to you out of simple lust or marry you through guilt. I have never said it – or not in English, anyway; indeed, I’ve fought very hard against saying it. But both of these things happened because I love you. I’ve loved you for a very long time … and will until death.’
As always, it was the last thing she had expected him to say. Her heart slammed again her ribs and tears stung her eyes But the truth of it was in his eyes and in the stillness of his waiting; so that at length she said, ‘And I you. But you know that.’
‘Yes.’
The channel of understanding moved very slowly and she was still drowning in the wonder of what he’d said.
‘I never thought … never hoped …’ She stopped. ‘Why are you telling me now?’
His smiled liquefied her bones.
‘Because the reason for my silence has been removed; because, if the worst happens, I don’t want my last regret to be that I never told you that you are my soul, my heart’s darling and the light of my life. And because, with the greatest reluctance in the world, I am leaving tomorrow for Genoa.’
Delight vanished as swiftly as it had come and she drew a sharply ragged breath.
‘You – you can’t!’
‘Amore mio – I must. You know I must – and why. If I don’t fulfil the terms of our contract, my uncle can ruin me. And I’d call that one catastrophe too many – wouldn’t you?’
Kate opened her mouth on the first words that occurred to her.
‘Then let me come with you.’
‘No.’ His tone was gentle but utterly final. ‘One day, perhaps – but not yet. Thanks to the war, it’s getting more and more difficult to find a ship and just getting out of the Channel is a dangerous business – not to mention the squalor of the accommodation. No. But don’t worry. I’m not going to leave you behind undefended. Selim will take care of you.’
‘While you travel alone?’ she snapped, pulling her hand free and coming abruptly to her feet. ‘Do you think that’s going to make me feel any better?’
‘Probably not – but it will certainly do a lot for my peace of mind,’ came the calm reply. Then, rising to face her, ‘You might as well save your breath and start thinking up a convincing lie to account for Selim’s presence to your sister – because, whether you like it or not, he’s going with you when you leave here. And then, as soon as it’s possible, I want you to go back to Thorne Ash.’ He smiled again and touched her cheek with light, insubstantial fingers. ‘Carissima … are we really going to spend these last minutes together arguing? Or do you think we might not give
ourselves something a little more pleasant to remember instead?’
She might have thought he was taking unfair advantage, had not his eyes told her differently. She said, ‘You had something in mind?’
‘Yes.’ Luciano drew her slowly into his arms. ‘Oh yes.’
He kissed her, lightly at first and then with deeper, hungrier intensity. Her response shuddered through him as her mouth opened beneath his and she leaned in to him, inviting him to take more. For a time, he managed to prevent his hands doing anything other than hold her. Then his brain dissolved and he forgot.
Some minutes later, his coat was on the floor and his shirt adrift. Kate’s hair tumbled down her back and her bodice was half-unlaced. Both of them were breathing in shallow gasps as their hands and mouths feasted on each other.
Kate said, ‘Luciano? Couldn’t we …?’
And a vague and very distant remnant of sense told him that he was minutes away from having her on the floor or atop his new desk or against the wall - all of which were totally unsuitable. With an effort, he managed to remember that he shouldn’t be having her at all.
Forcing his hands away from temptation, he said, ‘No. Sadly. I don’t think so.’
‘Don’t tell me,’ she sighed. ‘Genoa?’
‘Genoa. I’ll be gone for God knows how long. Again.’ He paused, laying his cheek against her hair. ‘It may comfort you to know that this is killing me.’
‘Then you’ll promise me something.’
‘Yes.’ He didn’t need to ask what it was. ‘Yes. When I come back, I’ll take you to bed. Probably for days.’
~ * * ~ * * ~
SIX
He was gone and she knew she should leave for Thorne Ash; not just because he had told her to go but because that was where she was needed. Yet somehow she could not quite bring herself to go and, as the days grew into weeks, was able to find perfectly logical reasons for staying. After an easy start to her pregnancy, Amy had become subject to fits of the megrims which Geoffrey was happy to let Kate handle; and Dorothy’s last letter said that Tabitha and Jacob were running the estate so efficiently that her own presence could easily be dispensed with for a little longer. But more vital than either of these was her determination to be in London when Luciano returned – which, when coupled with the thorny question of passes for travelling, made it much more sensible to stay where she was.
She had explained Selim’s presence by saying that Signor del Santi had asked her to give the fellow employment while he was abroad and that, since she would presently need an escort home, the idea had seemed a reasonable one. Geoffrey had been perfectly happy with the arrangement and immediately allotted Selim a room in the attics; Amy had remarked that if any of her maids fell pregnant, she’d know whom to blame.
And so the days passed. At first, the news was all of Cromwell and Waller’s exploits in Dorset and the Cavaliers problems in the West where George Goring was said to be permanently roaring drunk. Then a nine-day wonder was produced when word came that the Marquis of Montrose had managed to cross the Grampians in the dead of winter to descend on the Clan Campbell at Inverlochy. And no sooner had this excitement died down than Lords Essex and Manchester resigned their commissions exactly twenty-four hours before the passing of the Ordinance which would have forced them to do so. Colonel Cromwell, however, continued on active service … and within weeks was confirmed as general of the Horse.
Kate read the news-sheets and listened to the gossip but felt herself to be growing more and more distanced from it all. If the end was in sight, she could not see it … and the longer the conflict went on, the more diverse and complex it seemed to become. Religious pamphlets poured off the presses; Presbyterians and Independents harangued each other from the pulpits; and the death of Archbishop Laud and been followed by Parliament’s declaration that every Catholic or Irish prisoner was to be immediately shot. Eventually, the war would end and one side or the other would claim to have won. But the unpleasant truth was that, with this new ruthlessness in the air, the old life was gone forever and any victory now could not be anything other than Pyrrhic.
All of this, however, occupied but a small corner of her mind. Her main preoccupation was with the exquisite, incredible fact that Luciano loved her and the simultaneous fear of what dangers might be stalking him on his lone pilgrimage to Genoa. It was also fairly plain from Selim’s grim-faced demeanour that he strongly resented being left to care for Kate when he should have been guarding his master’s back … a point of view with which Kate found herself in total agreement but which he never allowed her to express. He simply sat sulkily in the kitchen when she was in the house and trod a dogged two paces behind her every time she set foot outside it – which very soon irritated Amy beyond bearing.
‘Does that heathen creature have to follow you everywhere you go?’ she demanded crossly as she and Kate strolled about the half-deserted labyrinth of the Exchange. ‘The way everyone stares at him, I feel as though I’m part of a peep-show!’
Kate was just about to observe that there were precious few people to stare, when a tall familiar figure detached itself from a shop doorway and sauntered towards them. Kate swung Amy round to stare at a pitifully lacklustre display of ribbons and trimmings – but too late. And before Amy was properly launched on her dislike of being manhandled, a drawling voice from behind said softly, ‘Why – Mistress Kate. What a delightful surprise. And here was I thinking London sadly devoid of its former attractions.’
Kate turned very slowly and met the silvery eyes of Cyrus Winter.
‘And seeing me has changed that? I find that very difficult to believe.’
His teeth gleamed.
‘Direct as ever, I see. Or does my attempt to call upon you after Edgehill still rankle?’
‘Hardly. I try never to let a person’s failures count against them. But if all you wanted was a glass of blackberry wine, you should have said so. I’m sure we could have come to some arrangement.’
The smile lingered and he said suavely, ‘Perhaps we still can. But where are my manners? Won’t you introduce me to your charming companion?’
It was the very last thing Kate wanted but there seemed little choice.
‘My sister – Mistress Cox,’ she said shortly. ‘Amy – allow me to present Mr Winter.’
Amy dimpled and held out her hand. She suspected that this fashionable gentleman must be an acquaintance from Whitehall; and, that being so, Amy had no intention of letting him pass on unimpressed. Gazing limpidly into the stranger’s undoubtedly appreciative eyes, she said, ‘I’m very happy to meet you, sir – and consider you quite right. London is insupportably dull these days.’
‘At this moment,’ returned Mr Winter gallantly, ‘there is nowhere I would rather be.’
‘Even though – for safety’s sake – it’s the last place you ought to be?’ offered Kate sweetly. ‘I thought you were fighting for the King.’
‘And so I was,’ came the unperturbed reply. ‘But times change, you know … and the wise man with them.’
The green eyes widened.
‘You’ve changed sides?’
‘Well, of course. Ah … I see that shocks you. But really, my dear, it’s a great deal more commonplace than you might think. And only a fool allows himself to end up on the losing side unnecessarily.’
He was still smiling and Kate wished he wouldn’t. It was setting her teeth on edge. Then, before she could speak, he said, ‘But tell me of yourself. How come I find you here? And why – if I may ask it – are you wearing mourning? Not surely, for the late lamented Mr Clifford?’
Inside her gloves, Kate’s hands curled into claws. She really did not like this man and she couldn’t understand why she had ever had anything to do with him.
‘Any why should you assume that?’ she snapped. ‘Kit --’
‘Dear me, no!’ cut in Amy, tired of being ignored. And then, allowing her eyes to fill with tears, ‘It – it’s our father. He died last summer.’
�
��Your father? I’m sorry. I had no idea.’ His tone expressed exactly the correct degree of shocked sympathy. His eyes, so far as Kate could see, didn’t change at all. ‘Please forgive my clumsiness and accept my sincere condolences. His loss must be a sad blow.’
‘It is,’ said Kate curtly. ‘And now, if you’ll forgive us, we promised to call on Amy’s sisters-in-law and are already late.’ She held out her hand. ‘Goodbye.’
This, fortunately, had the merit of being true and so, although Amy pouted a little, she extended her fingers once more and said, ‘It’s been delightful to meet you, sir. And if you’re to be in London for some time, I hope you’ll call and take a glass of wine with us.’
‘That,’ he bowed, ‘is more than kind.’
‘Fleet Street,’ said Amy, struggling against Kate’s propelling arm. ‘Opposite the Scrivener’s Arms.’ And then, in a furious whisper, ‘Kate – what is the matter with you? And will you please let go of my wrist!’
Since they were now several yards away, Kate released her and said, ‘Do you realise who that was? He’s the man Celia wouldn’t marry.’
‘Is he? My goodness! She must have been mad. Isn’t he dreadfully rich?’
‘Dreadfully. The gold embroidery on his gloves probably cost more than everything I’m wearing,’ replied Kate caustically. ‘But that’s beside the point. What you ought to be remembering is that he was considered the worst rakehell in Whitehall.’
‘Oh – stuff!’ said Amy. ‘I think he’s charming and I hope he calls on us. All my friends will be green with envy.’
* * *
May was well advanced by the time Cyrus Winter visited the house in Fleet Street and, as luck would have it, Kate was out at the time. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the relief it should have been because Amy was so plainly entranced that it seemed someone would have to keep an eye on her during any future visits.
‘And that someone,’ said Kate gloomily to Toby the following day, ‘will have to be me. Damn! I just wish that, once in a while, Amy would see sense.’