The Cornish Heiress

by Roberta Gellis

  Certainly if Megaera’s purpose had really been to think, she made the wrong move. The moment she slipped in beside Philip, all thought was suspended. The warmth of his body was like foretaste of heaven, and the full dinner was soon served. Although Philip tried to restrain himself, it was apparent from the urgency of his caresses, the frantic play of hands and lips, and the involuntary thrusts of his hips that he had spoken the truth about being in physical need. Fortunately Megaera was just so inclined—even more so. There had been no male Désirée to release her tensions.

  Philip could sense her desire, and, excited as he was, he feared to fail her. Perhaps because they had been talking of Désirée the expedient he had used then came into Philip’s mind. Instead of mounting Megaera, he pulled her atop him. She was confused at first, but perfectly willing to try something new that would give her lover pleasure. It was a revelation to her to regulate her own speed and angle of movement. Moreover, the position made her breasts and throat more easily available to Philip’s hands and lips, since he did not need to support himself.

  The device produced all and more than Philip hoped. In a very short time Meg was crying out so loudly that he reached up and pulled her head down to close her mouth with his. He barely had strength and control for it, however. Megaera’s plunging, twitching climax threw him almost immediately into his own, and his groans mingled with the last of her sighs and whispers. She lay limp above him—and that, too, was delightful. It was the closest and warmest they could be, and Megaera’s weight was no problem to Philip, as his would have been to her.

  Meg’s yielding had not really diverted Philip. He was more, not less, determined to make their union permanent. There was so marked a difference between this lovemaking and the last, crude coupling with Désirée that his need to always have Meg was deeply underscored. But in the quiet that followed their mating he felt no urgency to mention that problem to which he still had no solution. Instead, he touched her hair and kissed her little round chin. He began to say again that she was more beautiful than ever, but he was suddenly reminded of that other beauty whose hair and chin were, as far as he could remember, identical with Meg’s.

  “I had the oddest experience earlier tonight,” he said lazily. “I was at a masked ball at Moreton Place— He stopped abruptly because Megaera’s body had tensed all over. “What is it love?” he asked.

  “What were you doing at Moreton Place?” Megaera challenged. She needed to divert him from asking about their meeting. Although she had her story ready, she did not want to lie to Philip. In addition, the mention of Moreton Place had recalled his cully-catching activities to her mind.

  “I am a guest there,” Philip said, laughing.

  “You are cully-catching there!” Megaera contradicted. “Oh, Philip, don’t. Please don’t. Lord Moreton is no fool. You will be caught. Please! I can’t bear the thought of you cheating, tricking the innocent. Surely you make enough on the smuggling lay. Surely you don’t need to—to gull the unwary.”

  Philip had been about to confess all, to tell Meg that he had been a schoolmate of Perce Moreton’s, when she had interrupted him. He hesitated, wondering whether she would believe him or whether she would think it was another lie tied in with whatever unsavory scheme she believed him to be hatching. At once he realized that the hesitation had precluded his telling the truth. If he had burst out with it at once, she might have sensed the spontaneity. Now if he spoke she would only be more convinced he was lying. Still, he did not want her to think him a “sharp”.

  “I am not!” he said forcefully. “I do not gull the unwary.”

  Megaera slipped to the side. She had meant to move away, but it was too cold and she pressed herself against Philip, shivering a little from the chill of the unwarmed portion of the bed.

  “Don’t play with words,” she begged. “Whatever you call what you’re doing at Moreton Place—stop, please—for my sake if not for your own.”

  Philip opened his mouth to protest innocence again, and then, realizing she would never believe him, decided to make a virtue of a necessity. Let her think she had turned him away from crime. It would make her feel good and do no harm. He shrugged his shoulders.

  “Very well. It was not what you think, Meg, but if you do not like me to stay there, I will move back to the house on the cliff. I must go back to France with Pierre again, darling, but this time it should not be for long. When will he be back, love?”

  “Not this week. The weather is too bad. I will watch for him again next Tuesday, but you cannot live in the cliff house in this weather, Philip.”

  “I suppose I could stay here,” he said without enthusiasm. The cave was not a very attractive place of residence.

  “Oh no!” Megaera exclaimed.

  It was her immediate reaction to the fact that Philip would inevitably learn of the passage to Bolliet if he lived in the cave. Although she was pleased and touched by Philip’s willingness to give up his present dishonest enterprise, whatever it was, his agreement had fixed in her mind that there had been something dishonest afoot. This made her too fearful to expose herself to him. Half her mind said: he loves me, he would never betray me. The other half cautioned: now he loves you, but a cully-catcher finds weak prey irresistible; be safe, not sorry.

  A little devil tickled Philip, and he said most seriously, “If I promise not to do anything of which you would disapprove, Meg, why shouldn’t I stay at Moreton Place? I can slip out after dark each night and come here to meet you.”

  The question confirmed Megaera’s worst fears. “Can a cully-catcher keep a promise?” she asked coldly.

  “I said I was not,” Philip replied sharply, but not as angrily as he might have. Something in the voice and phrasing of that sentence of Meg’s reminded him again of the haughty Mrs. Edward Devoran. “Never mind,” he continued before Meg could respond to his protest. “Tell me instead why I saw a woman who I could have sworn was you at that masked ball.”

  “You should not need to ask such a question,” Megaera replied, her voice trembling. There was no hope of diverting him again. If she tried to sidestep the question, he would begin to investigate and soon discover the truth. She would have to tell her story. “And you should have been more of a gentleman than to do so.”

  “What the devil do you mean?” Philip asked, drawing back so he could see Meg’s face. It was flushed, and she would not meet his eyes.

  That ended her last hope of not saying the lying words outright. “She is my sister,” Megaera whispered, and then louder, defiantly, “my half sister.”

  “My God,” Philip gasped, “you mean you are Mrs. Devoran’s natural sister?”

  “Very natural,” Megaera confirmed.

  The lie had been hard to get out. Philip always seemed to know when she was lying, and she had been very much afraid that he would laugh at her and then insist on the truth. His ready acceptance was such a relief that it sparked a devil of mischief in Megaera and gave a fillip of enjoyment to her pretense.

  “Are you judging only on looks,” Philip asked, “or were you—recognized.”

  The question supplied the answer to a number of things Megaera knew she would need to explain as soon as Philip began seriously to consider her background, and she determined to play her hand for all it was worth. This time the cully would catch the catcher.

  “Oh, yes. I was brought up in the household. I am a year the elder. My father married soon after I was born, but he did not abandon me. My sister and I were raised together, educated together—”

  “I see.” Philip thought he did see. “My love,” he went on gently, “I know it is galling to be eldest and yet not—not first. Still, it is very wrong of you to engage in such a venture as smuggling. If it becomes known, you would bring great shame on your house. Sweet, give it up. I will explain to Pierre—”

  “Do you think I have become a smuggler to spite my sister?” Megaera laughed. “Don’t be silly! I’m smuggling to save Bolliet from t
he gull-gropers. My father is a gambler and a drunkard, and my stupid sister allowed him to marry her to one of his own ilk. Between them, Edward and my father sank the lands under huge mortgages. All that idiot sister of mine could think of was to sell her mother’s jewels—oh, well, she meant it for the best, but she’s too proud by half. She’s a real grande dame.”

  “Yes, I know, I met her—”

  “But you needn’t think you can make anything out of knowing who I am. She would just disown me and throw me out, so—”

  Megaera’s voice checked. The look on Philip’s face had silenced her. She was so frightened that for the moment she was paralyzed and mute. Without a word he threw back the covers and began to get out of bed. She knew that he was so bitterly hurt, so blazingly angry that if he got away she would never see him again. She flung herself forward and caught him, crying, “Forgive me! Philip, forgive me! I am so afraid all the time. Don’t leave me. Don’t be so angry!”

  He turned stiffly, not even shivering in the cold. “How could you bed me and think such a thing?” he choked.

  “I’m afraid. I’m afraid. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

  She began to cry bitterly, clinging to him. After a moment his body relaxed, and he got back into the bed and took her heaving body into his arms. It was unfair to be angry with poor Meg. He could understand, now that his own initial fury had subsided, why she was so desperate to hide who she was from everyone, and it was natural that she should be defensive, should strike out to protect herself even from him now that she was exposed. It was still hurtful that she should have been suspicious, but Philip realized he was hiding many things from her also and she must sense that.

  “Do not cry, Meg,” he said softly after a while. “You need not be afraid of me. I will never do anything to hurt you, I swear it. Do not cry, love.” The frantic sobbing diminished and the desperate clutch on him relaxed a little. Philip patted her consolingly. “But Meg, darling, do you not see it is not your problem? Why do you not let Mrs. Devoran worry about the estate, since it will undoubtedly belong to her some day.”

  Megaera stared at him for one terrified instant. She had been wrong to lie, and now she was caught up in the lie. If she told Philip the truth now, he would leave her; he would never forgive her for her distrust. She had to answer as if the stupid pastiche of truth and lies were real.

  “Because she wouldn’t do anything,” Megaera said softly, her voice still somewhat broken by lingering sobs. “She would just let it all go and wring her hands. We would all be thrown out. Maybe she could marry again, but there wouldn’t be any dowry for me… Not that that matters, but she couldn’t take my father with her. He’s—he’s pretty far gone. Anyone would insist on locking him up and… Maybe he hasn’t been much of a father, but he loves me…as much as he can. I couldn’t…“

  Philip’s mind had been working frantically throughout this not-too-lucid explanation. From his point of view things were even worse. He had thought all he need do was offer Meg security and she would give up the smuggling. Now he found she was struggling to save an encumbered estate that was not even hers. It would have been bad enough to need to explain to his parents that he was making a permanent arrangement that would preclude marriage. Philip knew Meg would not stand for his marriage no matter how he tried to explain that was only for the purpose of providing grandchildren for his parents and she would be right. Unless he had the misfortune to marry a monster like his own mother, years of avowed and approved relationship strengthened by the bond of children was sure to damage, if not destroy an illicit love, no matter how strong.

  Besides, now an irregular relationship was not to be thought of. Although she was illegitimate, Meg was acknowledged to belong to a decent family. It would have to be marriage. Philip shuddered at the thought of the pain he would inflict on his father and Leonie. How would he ever explain that he intended to marry the bastard of a drunken sot who had gambled away his estate so that his daughter started smuggling to… No! And yet Meg herself was so fine, so good. Perhaps if they met her first…

  Even so, could he force Meg to leave her father and sister to destruction? He doubted it. The estate he would inherit from his father was adequate rather than handsome. Of course it was growing considerably as Roger added to it from income derived from his practice as a barrister and his government work. Still, he did not think his father would permit him to pledge it to save lands on which he would never have a claim. And he did not know how great the encumbrance was.

  “How much is owed?” he asked, when Meg’s voice finally trailed away. He was wondering whether he could manage to pay the interest, at least, so that the lands would not be forfeit and Meg could quit the dangerous game she was playing.

  Although she had no notion of most of Philip’s thoughts, Megaera understood what was behind his question immediately. She felt even more guilty for having deceived him. Obviously Philip intended to get the money for her, but she could not permit that. He could have no idea of the sum involved, and he might do something desperately dangerous when he found out.

  “I—I don’t know,” she stammered, never having expected this contingency and having no better answer.

  “What do you mean, you do not know?” Philip said, pushing her away a little to look at her face.

  “I—I never asked. It—it didn’t matter, did it? I knew it would take years and years to pay back, so—”

  “You little, loving idiot! Philip exclaimed, torn between surprise at her goodness and irritation at her trustfulness. “You mean you just hand over the money? How do you know what your sister is doing with it?”

  “She wouldn’t cheat. She wouldn’t!” Megaera gasped, caught between the devil that was her lie and the deep blue sea of Philip’s desire to help her.

  “I did not mean to imply that your sister is deliberately dishonest, only that she may be using the money for other things that she feels are equally necessary. And those things might be more necessary to her than to you. That gown she was wearing tonight, for example. It was not inexpensive.”

  “She didn’t spend money on that. I know she didn’t,” Megaera protested. “I helped her make it. Let it go, Philip, please.”

  “No, because I think I could help.”

  “My sister wouldn’t hear of it. She doesn’t know you exist.”

  “She knows now,” Philip pointed out. “I accosted her at the ball and called her Meg.”

  “I can explain that, but—”

  “You find out what that debt is,” Philip ordered. “And do not take any ‘no’s’ from her, you little ninny. I know you have been made to believe that she must always come first and have her own way, but that must end now. As I told you, I must go to France again, but when I come back this time I intend to take you away with me.”

  “Oh, Philip, I couldn’t,” Megaera wailed.

  “Yes, you can! Now listen to me. Find out what the full sum is and what the quarterly interest is. Maybe I can find a way to pay part of the interest. The rest can be made up from the rents. Probably there would not be much left over, but your father and sister could continue to live here until she marries again. Then—”

  “No! No, I can’t let you. Don’t do anything rash. It’s my problem, Philip, not yours.”

  Philip lifted her chin and stopped her lips. “Your problems are my problems, Meg. Love is like that. Now stop being such a goose. There isn’t any sense in our arguing about this until I know what the figures are, but if your smuggling is paying the piper, I might be able to swing it. We would have to live close, no luxuries, but we could be together without the Customs men breathing down our necks.”

  Even as he said it Philip began to wonder whether he was doing the right thing at the wrong time. He had no doubts about wanting Meg, but it might not be wise to take her away, because it was not really likely they could be together. He was reasonably sure this would not be the last time he would be sent to France or even farther afield. Would it be fai
r to her to force her on his parents and then leave her alone? Roger and Leonie would not be unkind, but Meg might well guess how little welcome she and her expensive troubles would be to them. And to face the snide remarks and nasty insinuations of the ton—those who would receive her for the sake of the Stours and the St. Eyres—all alone, that would be cruel.

  In any case there was no time to marry her before he left for France again. In London or Kent he could have obtained a special license and married her the next day, but he knew no bishop in Cornwall and the thought of explaining this situation to Lord Moreton—who might or might not know of Meg’s existence—was more than Philip could face. Perce’s father would certainly try to dissuade him from what he would consider (and Philip himself considered, except that he loved Meg too much to give her up) a disastrous action. Perce would undoubtedly agree with his father. Philip knew he would lose his temper, which would not convince anyone of Meg’s sweetness, only of her hold on him. No!

  Then an idea struck Philip. Perhaps he could work the deal from the other direction and protect Meg from her vampire sister and father through Pierre. It was the winter season anyway, and the long passage between Brittany and Cornwall could only be made at very irregular intervals. Philip believed he could convince Pierre not to make a run until he himself returned. Even better, perhaps he could convince Pierre to go back to his old base in Belgium and run lace and Dutch brandy if he could not obtain French wine. That would keep Meg out of trouble, not do Pierre’s business any harm, and in the short run, keep Pierre closer to Paris until he finished this job.

  Megaera had not said anything when Philip said he would take her away. She was aware that it was not a proposal of marriage; perhaps Philip, like his father, did not believe in marriage. Nonetheless she recognized his deep seriousness. All she could do was bury her face in his shoulder and struggle with her tears. He was so good. Imagine him being willing to take on such a burden only to have her. What was she to do? Every cell her body cried out to belong to Philip forever, but how could she? Even if the debts, could somehow be settled or staved off, there was the stupid lie she had told between them and, even worse, how could a Bolliet live openly with a smuggler’s bastard?