STOLEN HEARTS

by Michelle Martin

  Moving carefully, Luke kicked off his shoes and got under the covers with her, holding her close, keeping the chill from her body with the warmth of his until he too fell asleep.

  * * *

  "I must say it is a good thing you two are engaged, or I might very well be outraged by such a sight."

  Luke forced his eyes open and stared blearily up at Jane, who was smiling.

  "What time is it?" he asked, his voice as low as hers had been.

  "It's just after eleven. How is she?"

  "Better, I think. She woke up around six, cried forever, and then finally fell back asleep. I didn't have a chance to come get you."

  "So I see," Jane said. "Let her rest a little longer, but then she'll have to get up, I'm afraid. Isn't that awful Bert person coming at two?"

  "Yes," Luke said grimly, "he is. Don't worry, Jane. I'll make sure Tess is ready in time."

  * * *

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  « ^ »

  Tess woke to the sensation of being kissed on her forehead, her temple, her eyes, her nose, her cheeks. Only when she turned her head in silent request was her mouth kissed as well. She opened her eyes and met Luke's warm green gaze.

  "How do you feel?" he asked.

  For a moment, the innocuous question almost sent her into hysterics. But everything had already clicked into place in her mind and she forced herself to begin the new role she would have to play now.

  "Nicely kissed, thank you," she said, stretching herself along the length of Luke's body. His warmth had no effect on the ice covering her soul. "I feel like I've slept for years."

  "Just a few hours. You had a rough night."

  "Tell me about it," Tess said, adopting a wry expression. "How on earth I am going to be Elizabeth after today I don't know. I've never been a real person before."

  That Luke was startled was clear, but apparently he made the decision to go along with the tone she had set.

  "Just be yourself and that will be Elizabeth," he said. "It'll come easily to you in no time."

  "It's all very disconcerting, you know."

  "You've got people who love you to help you over the rough spots."

  Tess smiled, her lips brushing Luke's mouth for a moment. Then she sat up. "You're going to make me a wonderful husband. You do still want to marry me even though I really am Elizabeth, don't you?"

  "Absolutely."

  "Good. What time is it?"

  "Eleven-thirty."

  "Eleven-thirty?" Tess shrieked. "Bert will be here at two!"

  "Calm down, calm down, everything's covered. My office sent a courier down Saturday with all the papers we need. You have plenty of time to shower, eat, and prepare yourself for whatever it is you've got planned. You do have something planned, don't you?"

  Tess forced back the hysteria with every ounce of Cushman willpower she possessed. "Fishing will not help," she informed Luke. "Everything is top secret."

  "I'm not just anyone, you know," he pointed out.

  "No, you're not," Tess said, kissing him again. "You're the most wonderful man in the world and you are blocking my exit from bed."

  Luke glanced at his leg thrown across both of hers. "So I am."

  "If you would be so kind, Mr. Mansfield. I have places to go, people to see, things to do."

  "Tess," Luke said, openly worried now, "we have to talk."

  No, Tess thought, I have to shriek and wail and keen for the next twenty years to rid myself of the pain twisting my soul.

  "Of course we have to talk," she retorted, "that's what keeps marriages healthy and strong. But right now, I need to shower and get ready to see Bert."

  Luke gripped her shoulders and forced her to look up at him. "Dammit, Tess, we have to talk now! I don't know what you think you're doing—"

  "I am trying to get you out of my bed," Tess said, pushing at him. "You're the one who let me oversleep, now you have to pay the piper. Get up and out, Mr. Mansfield."

  Luke went ballistic. "The hell I will!" he shouted. "I am not moving one inch until you tell me what is going on!"

  Tess threw herself out the other side of the bed and stood glaring at him as fiercely as he glared at her. "Who are you to tell me what to do?" she demanded. "I am not your trained poodle. I am an independent woman and I intend to stay that way, married or not!"

  "Dammit, Tess," Luke seethed as he stood and glared at her in return, the bed between them, "we're supposed to be engaged. We're supposed to love each other! Trust has to be a part of anything between us. It has to! But here you are planning something dangerous—oh yes, I can see it in your eyes so don't you dare try to deny it—and you aren't telling me anything! You're lying to me by pretending everything is all right when you and I both know this is probably the most devastating morning of your life!"

  "How dare you presume to tell me what I feel and what I think!" Tess exploded as she marched around the bed and began pushing him toward the door with as much strength as she possessed. "You are not Edgar Bergen and I am not Charlie McCarthy. You will know what I feel when I tell you and not before. You don't know me, Luke Mansfield, you don't know anything about me. Oh, you've got the facts all right, but how about the truth that you keep harping on? How about the plain simple truth that I don't need you and I don't want you right now. What I want is a little privacy!"

  Emerald eyes blazed down at her. "You don't want me? You don't need me? Fine! Play your little games with Bert and do your solo act as long as you like. You'll find out soon enough the only thing you'll win is loneliness!"

  Luke stormed from the room, slamming the door behind him. She heard him stomp down the hallway and then suddenly stop. "The little she-cat was baiting me!" he gasped.

  She cringed … and then jumped as he began to pound on her locked door. "Open this door, Elizabeth Aurora Cushman! You're not chasing me off that easily. Open this door and fight square, damn you!"

  "I am going to take a shower now," Tess said tightly, arms wrapped around herself as she began to back away.

  "You are very, very good at what you do, Tess. But don't try to railroad me again. I'm wise to you now. You may have got me out of your room, but no way in hell are you getting rid of me. Open this door!"

  Tess backed into the bathroom, her hands over her ears, trying to block out Luke's voice. It didn't help. She could still hear him cajoling her into trusting him for these last few hours of her life as Tess Alcott and she couldn't! She loved him too much to put his life in any more danger than she already had.

  She turned the shower on full blast, closed and locked her bathroom door, and then waited a little breathlessly to see if Luke would break down her bedroom door, come up with a key, or use a screwdriver to remove the hinges. One minute passed. Two. She almost let herself breathe again.

  When five minutes had passed, she stripped off the pajamas Jane and Dr. Weston had put on her the night before, and stepped into the shower.

  The moment the scalding water hit her, the first five years of her life flooded into her brain. The last day of those five years was there in stark clarity.

  He was there. Hal Marsh, tall and skinny, red hair, bushy red mustache, and a smile so utterly terrifying that she had wet herself in his arms and he had slapped her hard, once, twice, the shock silencing her cries. No one had ever hit her before.

  Hal Marsh.

  After all these years to remember that monster. To see him as clearly in her mind now as she had twenty years ago.

  In her bedroom.

  Elizabeth. She was Elizabeth Cushman and Hal Marsh had lifted her from her bed…

  "Stop it, stop it, stop it," Tess said through clenched teeth, her fist slamming repeatedly into her thigh.

  There was no time to wrestle with the memories of that day, with the five years of memories lost to her until last night. No time to long for Luke's arms to hold her now and hold the terror at bay.

  She had to cope with an entirely new identity for herself, her head felt ready to split open, her heart
ripped to shreds, and Tess simply could not deal with any of it now. The present, the next two and a half hours, demanded all of her attention, all of her concentration, all of her cunning if she was going to successfully rewrite the script.

  "Hell," she muttered as she turned her face into the hot water. She wanted to crawl into Luke's arms and hide there forever. She wanted to hold Jane's hand and make herself believe that she was holding her grandmother's hand. She wanted to see her parents one last time, hear their laughter, feel their love.

  Her parents. Oh God, her poor dead parents. She needed time to grieve their loss, too.

  Instead, she grimly reached for the shampoo and began to wash her hair.

  Ten minutes later, a towel wrapped around her head, her bathrobe belted at her waist, her emotions precariously locked away, Tess marched out of the bathroom, listened carefully at her bedroom door (which was still intact), heard nothing, and pulled on her underwear. Then she sat down on her bed and picked up her bedside phone. It was answered on the second ring.

  "Hello?" The voice was female and Irish.

  "May I speak with Cyril Bainbridge, please?" Tess said.

  "Cyril is taking a Valium right now. You're late, Tess. We've been going out of our minds!"

  "I'm sorry, Gladys, things got a little out of hand here for a while. I'm planning a surprise party at two. Can you make it?"

  "It'll be tight. But with a decent radar detector, we should make it, love. You made quite a splash in the news. Cyril and I are very proud."

  "Thanks. Now, I don't want you joining the party until after I'm alone with Bert and signal you."

  "You're not being reckless, are you, Tess? My nerves can't stand reckless just now."

  Tess couldn't help but smile. Gladys had the steadiest nerves in the business. Tess only wished she had the same. "Everything is going to go like clockwork, Gladys, trust me." She cringed at the phrase and hurried on. "We've come too far for me to go suddenly stupid on you."

  "All right, love. You know you can count on us. I'll tell Cyril he can finally lay off the Valium."

  "Great," Tess said and hung up the phone with a smile. Cyril was the last human being on earth to put drugs into his body. Even aspirin was anathema to him. Tess, on the other hand, was finding a bottle of Valium to be a very attractive idea.

  Instead, she went back into the bathroom and dried her hair. Then she dressed in a full-length pale green satin gown that Grace Kelly might have worn around the house. She clasped the Farleigh around her throat, and stared at herself in the mirror over the bureau.

  The Farleigh was staggering. It was made up of a quality of emerald you couldn't buy anymore. The twenty-two carat gold setting was simply designed to show off the dark emeralds. The combination was a little heavy around her neck, as if insisting that she be aware and appreciative of it every moment she wore it.

  "You are Elizabeth Cushman," she said to her reflection.

  Anger welled within her. Good. She needed anger now. It would get her through her newest charade.

  She pulled her jewelry case from a dresser drawer, opened the false bottom, and pulled out the small automatic pistol she had stolen days ago from her grandfather's gun collection in the library. Really, the security system in this house was shocking. It was a good thing Solitaire was coming on Tuesday.

  She checked the full clip and then slipped the gun into a side pocket. She stood in front of the bureau mirror and studied herself from every angle. The gown had been a good choice. The small gun was undetectable and she would be careful to have her hand in the pocket a good deal of the time.

  "Show time," she whispered to her mirrored image.

  She opened her bedroom door to find Luke lounging against the opposite hall wall.

  "She emerges," he proclaimed in rolling accents, "like Venus from a half-shell."

  Tess's hand dived into her pocket, her trembling fingers fumbling to hide the automatic. "Thank God you never became a poet," she managed. "We would starve."

  "Oh, I think you're talented enough to keep us in Godiva chocolates for life. May I escort you to lunch, milady?" Luke asked, holding out his arm.

  Tess stared up at him. What was going on? Why was he so pleasant when she had worked so hard to send him into a towering rage only thirty minutes earlier? What was he up to?

  She tentatively placed her hand on his arm and he led her down the hall and then started downstairs, gaily discussing his blighted poetical career and his reluctant entrance into the law. She jerked him to a stop halfway down the stairs.

  "Okay, that's it, I've had enough," she said grimly. "Just what in the heavenly name of Monet are you up to, Mr. Grim Reaper?"

  "I had hoped for a pleasant conversation before lunch," Luke innocently replied.

  "Brother," Tess muttered, "it's even worse than I thought."

  "If a pleasant conversation doesn't interest you," Luke continued, "you might try telling me the truth."

  "About what?"

  Luke grinned down at her. "Yes, there are so many pieces to be uncovered, aren't there? But for now, I'll settle for the truth about why you really came to this house with your friend Bert."

  "To con the Farleigh out of Jane, of course."

  "Ah now, Tess, that's only half the truth and you know it. Try again."

  "What is this, the Spanish Inquisition?"

  Luke held his arms wide. "I haven't got a whip or a rack on me and my tone has been decidedly dulcet. Hardly the tactics of an Inquisitor, don't you think?"

  "I think I want some lunch," Tess said, starting back down the stairs.

  Luke quickly caught up to her. "It really is going to be exciting being married to you. A thrill a minute, probably. Getting you to accept compromise and a little help now and then will be the greatest challenge of my life. Did you know that fourteen years ago your friend Bert murdered Anna Mae Smith, also known as Violet? Strangled her with his bare hands."

  Tess stopped cold. "What?" Bert had murdered the only adult who had ever been kind to her after the kidnapping?

  Luke's smile was grim. "I thought that would catch your interest. The police are calling it an unsolved murder. I think they'll be happy to reopen the case when Leroy hands over his evidence."

  Tess forced herself to shrug and continue walking down the stairs. "Bert has murdered nine people that I know of. Probably a lot more. He has little regard for human life."

  "So why are you playing pat-a-cake with him today?" Luke demanded as they walked across the Grand Hall.

  "The irony of using him as a witness to my ascension into Elizabethdom pleases me."

  "Dammit, Tess, stop playing word games with me!" Luke shouted as he grabbed her arm and jerked her to a halt.

  "How dare you accuse me of playing games!" Tess sputtered. "You've been stringing me along from the day I got here. You only decided to love me when you found out I'm really Elizabeth!"

  Luke stared down at her in openmouthed astonishment. "Why, you pea-brained little dunce!" he sputtered, gripping her by both arms and shaking her a little so that she had to look up at him. "I loved you the first day you walked into this house and your blue eyes collided with mine. I loved you every minute of every day I thought you were only here to con Jane out of her millions. I loved you in spite of that damn video! I loved you! Heart and soul, body and mind. I don't care if even now you're running some sort of monumental con. I don't care, Tess! I love you and I want you and by God I am going to have you!"

  Wanting to believe him was the hardest thing Tess had ever fought. "How could you love me in the face of that awful video?" she said in a small voice, the tears welling in her eyes. "It's impossible. The things I said about you … about Jane… How could you love me?"

  Luke's fingers raised her chin so that she had to look up at him through a blur of tears. "I knew the heart of you, Tess, and I trusted that," he said gently. "You taught me to trust my instincts and a woman's heart. I knew you were incapable of being that hard, that cold. I knew you were acti
ng for Bert's benefit, I just didn't know why. I still don't know why. I don't know why you agreed to work the con with him in the first place. This kind of job isn't your style. Does he have some sort of hold on you, Tess?"

  She was silent a moment, though his gentle grip wouldn't let her look away. "You could call it that," she said at last.

  "There must be ways to set you free—"

  "I thought this con was the only way."

  "I don't understand." Luke stared down at her, his green gaze tender. "Won't you tell me what all of this is about, Tess? Won't you trust me enough to tell me the truth?"

  "My love was and is the truth," Tess whispered. "Every ounce of it."

  "I know, my darling. But I want more. We are going to be married. That marriage won't stand a chance if we don't start trusting each other now. Tell me why Bert still has a hold on you. Tell me why you want to see him today. Trust me, Tess. Tell me."

  She couldn't help herself. Staring up at him, the words started tumbling out of her mouth.

  "Bert has used a lot of disguises and a lot of different names in his long and filthy career," she said raggedly. "The redheaded Hal Marsh was one of them. He's the man who kidnapped me."

  Luke paled, even as his eyes darkened with rage. "Bert?"

  "When you told me about Hal Marsh last night, everything splintered in my brain … and I remembered. I remembered Bert scooping me out of my bed in the middle of the night, his hand over my mouth so I couldn't scream. Only his hand was so big, it covered my nose and I began to suffocate. By the time he started carrying me down the ladder he had wedged up against the house, I was so desperate for oxygen that I began to struggle. I even managed to break free, and took a header for the ground. That's all I remember about the kidnapping until I woke up a few days later. Bert was raging back and forth across the motel room. I had no idea who I was, where I was, or who he was. He soon put me straight on that score. He said he owned me. It was our first official introduction. A few weeks later he sold me to the Carswells."