‘I fear I must.’
‘Maria told me that Robert has information concerning the attack on Gameau’s hideout,’ she said. ‘What happened? Did it not go to plan?’
‘It would appear not—at least not all of it. All the deserters were either killed or captured.’
‘And the hostages?’
‘Were located and successfully rescued. Unfortunately our troubles are not wholly behind us. A shadow still lurks over us in the shape of Gameau. At some point during the melee, he got away.’
Lucy’s face froze with shock. ‘It can’t be true. How was that possible? And you are going to try to find him? Nathan, do not forget that he no longer owes you a debt. Did he not tell you that should you meet again you should look to your life?’
Nathan nodded, his expression grim. ‘The threat is not forgotten. I’m to make contact with Arturo Garcia. He will give me an account of the attack and I will go on from there. I have issues of my own to settle with Gameau. There is also the issue of the gold. Hopefully it will have been recovered—or most of it, which will be returned to the Duke of Londesborough. If all goes well, I shall be gone no longer than two weeks—three at the most. In the meantime Robert and Maria will take good care of you.’
‘I know they will. Maria is extremely kind, generous and hospitable. She has made us so welcome—even providing us with the clothes we wear.’
Nathan’s expression softened and a slow smile curved his lips as his eyes swept slowly over her. ‘I admire her taste. You look lovely, Lucy,’ he murmured in an attempt to lessen the fear in her. ‘There have been times over the past weeks when the tantalising woman hidden beneath the breeches eluded me.’
A rush of warmth pervaded Lucy’s whole being, reawakening the nerve centre which had been numbed by despair. Had his cruel indifference been a pose after all? she asked herself. Hearing his warm words, being here with him now, she felt a sudden, keener awareness of her love for him. The feeling was so strong that for an instant she had a wild impulse to tell him how she felt, but she recollected herself just in time.
The man in front of her had merely complimented her on how she looked and might not wish to listen to a declaration of her love. He wanted only what any woman could give him—the means to slake his physical lust. And he had done just that on the night of the storm. Her mind burned with the memory of the wild abandon with which she had given herself to him. She wouldn’t humiliate herself further by letting him know how much she craved his kisses, his touch.
‘Is it necessary to put yourself in danger like this?’ she asked, unable to conceal her concern. ‘Surely Gameau will have been found and taken care of by now?’
‘I’d like to think so—and if he has then I will soon return, but I have to make sure. He is just one of the loose ends that have to be tied off.’
Lucy’s eyes searched his and for a terrible stabbing moment she knew a squeeze of fear so strong it seemed to take the breath from her body. She strove to control it. ‘The ordeal is over for Katherine and me, but the risks are still there for you. At least you’ll be able to ride much faster without the encumbrance of two women and a baby.’
There was an unusually brooding expression in his eyes. Then he put his finger under her chin and tilted her distraught face to his. ‘You have spirit and courage,’ he said, with a serious smile, capturing her lovely green gaze with his own, ‘and I commend you for it. But you are right. With just one man for company I’ll work much faster.’
‘I’m glad you won’t be alone, but you will be putting yourself in grave danger.’
‘Not for the first time.’
‘Don’t let anything happen to you. Please be careful.’ She wanted to tell him that she couldn’t bear to lose him, but held her silence. She wished she could be convinced of his indestructibility, that he had been blessed with some special gift of endurance.
He saw the fear in her face. ‘There’s no need to concern yourself in this way, Lucy. I don’t get killed that easy.’
‘I sincerely hope not.’
There was a silence, a silence occupied by Lucy in examining what Nathan had just said. Her joy of a moment before when he had told her how nice she looked evaporated before harsh reality. Her heart heavy with the burden of her love, she was afraid for him. An adventurer Nathan might be, equal to any risks, bold enough for anything, but one thing he would not do, and Lucy knew it, he would never deal dishonestly with himself. There was no arguing with such determination. That strong will of his divided them.
She gritted her teeth and took a deep breath and said at last, ‘Well then, what can I say, except goodbye and please take care.’
Nathan looked towards the house where Sir Robert was beckoning him. Taking Lucy’s hand, he raised it to his lips, his eyes holding hers for just a moment before he turned and strode across the terrace. Her heart leaden, Lucy’s eyes followed his tall figure helplessly.
God keep him safe, she prayed silently.
* * *
Five weeks passed and Nathan didn’t return. They were weeks in which Katherine grew stronger and healthier and little Charles thrived on wholesome food and hugs by family and servants alike so that he was at serious risk of suffocation.
Lucy worried about Nathan constantly. She tried not to show her concern, but neither Katherine’s company nor the respectful and benevolent hospitality of Sir Robert and Maria could dispel her fears. There was only one thing she wanted and that was to remain alone with her thoughts until someone came to her with news of Nathan.
The glow of the few times they had been intimate on the journey had dimmed. She was feeling lost and unusually tired and depressed. Even with all there was to think about and arrange for the final stages of the journey, she could not help wondering what awaited her in England. Would she be able to pick up the threads of her career? Did she want to?
Whatever her intentions, they were thwarted the day she suspected another life grew within her. Assuming the first missed flux the result of the arduous journey, she hadn’t worried, but when the time came again and nothing happened, the thought of a child crept in unbidden. It was a thought that could not be shaken. It filtered through her brain like some unwelcome shockwave. It also explained her bouts of nausea and loss of appetite, why she had felt so tired of late and the tenderness in her breasts.
It had happened on the night when she had fallen into the stream, but she knew, no matter how hard she tried to think otherwise, that since then nothing had been the same. The pleasure and intensity she had experienced then was now too painful to contemplate. She knew she was carrying Nathan’s child. All those times they had made love in the past nothing had happened. Why now?
Slowly the silent tears began to flow. Pressing her hands lightly together in her lap, she asked herself what was she to do? She had willingly allowed Nathan to take advantage of her, and she had enjoyed it and revelled in it, before she had known he did not intend to take their relationship any further. Now, more than ever, she needed the strength of her forceful personality to keep her sane in the days and weeks to come.
She loved Nathan with all her heart, but she would not tell him. She would keep absolutely silent on the matter. If he would not marry her for herself, then she would not blackmail him into marrying her because it was the right and decent thing to do. She wanted him to want her because he loved her and for no other reason.
She looked into the future with haunted eyes. If Nathan didn’t marry her she would go away. The money from the assignment meant she would be able to care for herself and her child. Yet it gave her a strange, rather agonising joy, to know that Nathan’s blood was at work somewhere deep inside her. Whatever he did now, he was bound to her by the ties of flesh and blood, so, now that the shock of the revelation of her condition had worn off, nothing could destroy her happiness in the knowledge that she bore his child.
; * * *
The day was warm. Katherine and Charles were strolling in the garden with Maria and Sir Robert. The chance to recline in one of the chairs in a sheltered part of the terrace was too big a temptation for Lucy to resist and before she knew it she had drifted off to sleep.
This was where Nathan found her. He looked down at her sleeping soundly, her face flushed and the light gleaming on the waves of her glossy chestnut hair, which had grown considerably in his absence. The lovely curves of her body moulded the thin gauzy white folds of her gown. The smooth curve of her arms, the line of the long creamy throat and the black sweep of the lashes that lay against her cheeks were an assurance that she was well rested since her return to Lisbon.
He’d missed her more than he realised.
Reluctant to wake her, aware of his dishevelled appearance after five weeks of living rough, he went to clean himself up before returning to the terrace.
* * *
Coming awake, aware of someone standing next to her chair casting a shadow over her, Lucy stole a furtive glance at Nathan from beneath her lashes. Overwhelmingly relieved that he had come back safe, her heart fluttered foolishly at the sight of him, bathed and barbered and all lordly elegance. He was awe-inspiring in calfskin trousers, the white shirt accenting the sweeping breadth of his shoulders and his trim, flat waist. How well she knew—and had missed—that powerful body beneath that white shirt, that throat enwrapped in a muslin cravat. Ruefully she wanted to say well done, Nathan, but despite the splendid way he looked, he was still Nathan, with his air of ruthless danger beneath the polished veneer.
‘Nathan!’ she breathed. ‘At last.’ She opened her eyes, but made no attempt to move as she gazed up at him. Everything but the glow of her love had been swept away. Her whole being was irradiated.
‘You were asleep,’ he said softly. ‘I’m sorry if I woke you.’
‘I felt unusually tired.’
‘Why? Are you feeling unwell?’
‘No, merely tired.’
‘I’ve been speaking to Maria. Apparently she is concerned about you. She told me you’ve been noticeably quiet of late, Lucy.’
Lucy’s eyes snapped to his and her brows drew together in a frown. She wished Maria hadn’t voiced her concerns to Nathan. Much as she liked Maria and valued her friendship, she also possessed a busy tongue, capable of diffusing an incredible amount of gossip in the shortest possible space of time.
‘I have spent a good deal of time resting. I’m just not used to having so much time on my hands with nothing to do.’
‘And that’s all it is?’ he asked quietly, studying her face closely.
Lucy knew him too well not to discern the anxiety underlying his words. She must give him no reason to suspect the truth. ‘What else could it be? Shall I be cheerful just to please you? Is that what you want?’ she uttered crossly.
Nathan didn’t want that. He wanted the young woman of the past to come back to him, not this distant, reserved creature who for reasons unbeknownst to him kept herself from him.
Lucy sighed. It was not her intention to sound irate. She was genuinely happy to see Nathan after so long an absence. She felt herself being drawn into his gaze, into the vital, rugged aura that was so much a part of him. Being this close to him was having a strange effect on her senses. She was too aware of him as a man, of his power, his strength. Unsettled by his relentless gaze, she couldn’t remain reclining in the chair any longer.
Getting to her feet she brushed down her skirts. ‘I’m sorry, Nathan. I didn’t mean to sound crotchety, but I shall be relieved to be back in England. I’m glad you’re back at last. We were beginning to worry when there was no word. Did it go well?’
He nodded. ‘Most of the ransom money we took so laboriously to Gameau has been found. Handfuls had been raked off by the deserters, but the bulk of it has been recovered.’
‘And Gameau?’
‘Still missing. I searched the mountains for him—which is why I have been away so long. There have been sightings of him, but he managed to elude us.’
‘I’m sorry, Nathan. I know how frustrating it must be for you.’
Nathan’s eyes hardened. She was right. Frustration filled him with anger. He blamed himself for not running Gameau to ground. He should have tried harder, but winter had come to the mountains and it was with reluctance that he had given up the chase to return to Lisbon.
Lucy felt the tension in Nathan and knew how wretched he must be feeling for having failed to locate Gameau. From his tone she could tell the murder of Harry Connors still pained him and she suspected he continued to blame himself for that young man’s death by letting Gameau live.
‘I know how much you want him caught—what it means to you personally,’ she said, pressing her fingertips to her aching temples. ‘However, now you are back we can make plans to return to England, where we can put all thought of Gameau behind us.’
‘Are you sure you are not feeling unwell, Lucy?’ Nathan asked, his voice soft with concern.
Lucy averted her eyes, immediately on the defensive. ‘I have a headache, that is all. I must have been out in the sun too long.’
‘You were in the shade,’ he countered.
‘Then it must be something I’ve eaten.’ She moved away from him, for she found his nearness disconcerting. His close scrutiny of her features was making her feel suddenly uncomfortable, as though it might provide an answer to some question he had in mind.
‘Perhaps,’ he murmured, unconvinced. Stepping close to her, he placed his hand on her arm when he thought she was about to turn away. He was still looking at her in a peculiar way—as though she might be hiding something. ‘Can I tempt you to take a walk in the garden before dinner? Some light exercise might relieve your headache.’
Disturbed by his touch, Lucy looked down and found herself staring at his hand—strong, his fingers long, it had the power to tame a spirited horse yet could be gentle and caressing and soothing...
She had a wild desire to hold out her arms to him, but she couldn’t. Oh, why didn’t he give her the opportunity to tell him how she felt—and that she was going to have his child?
She looked away, pulling herself together, refusing to be seduced any more by him. She didn’t mean to pull back from him this way, but she couldn’t help it. She was afraid to let herself become open to him again for fear that it would deepen the hurt. Taking a deep breath, she summoned her courage.
‘Some other time, Nathan. I really am feeling extremely tired. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll go to my room and rest before dinner.’
Nathan stepped back. If only she knew how desperately he wanted to take her in his arms. Being away from her had made him realise he could not go on without her. But she had clearly made up her mind to keep him at arm’s length. ‘Of course. I’ll see you at dinner.’
Chapter Ten
Before they knew it, the eve of departure was upon them. The meal that night was over. Katherine was putting Charles to bed and Robert and Maria were chatting over coffee. Nathan had gone to the harbour to make final preparations about boarding the ship and Lucy took a last stroll in the garden.
It had been raining heavily all day. Now that it had ceased and the clouds had passed over, everything was clear and bright and the air fresh and clean. While sad to be leaving Lisbon and the warm hospitality they had received from Sir Robert and Maria, Lucy was glad they were to return to England at last. They had been away longer than she had expected and she worried terribly about Aunt Dora.
It wasn’t until she had reached the limits of the garden that overlooked the road leading down to the harbour that she realised how far she had walked. It was almost dark. Before turning to return to the house, she looked along the road in the hope of seeing Nathan, but it was empty. Suddenly she felt uneasy about being alone. Something in the shado
ws along the side of the road moved. She was certain of it. Concealing herself behind the stout trunk of a palm tree, she strained her eyes, scrutinising the shadows. Nothing moved, but she continued to stand there.
Suddenly a figure slipped out into the road. It was a man and he was looking in the same direction as she had to look for Nathan. Whoever he was he seemed to be unaware of her watching him. He wore a hat with the brim pulled well down. His clothes were dark, his body language furtive. When he removed his hat to scratch his head, Lucy’s mouth went dry and her heart lurched. Although the man was devoid of his black beard she recognised him. Panic gripped her.
It was Claude Gameau and she knew he was waiting for Nathan.
The situation demanded action. Lucy could see that for herself. Like a shadow she slipped from behind the tree and headed back to the house.
* * *
Even now, many weeks later, the memory of the attack and the fact that Rochefort, the English spy in league with the partisans, had outwitted him, filled Claude Gameau with bitter rage. It was only by his own cleverness and cunning he had escaped the partisans and British soldiers, leaving the rest of his band of deserters to their fate. The knowledge was more galling than the attack on his hideout.
He’d escaped into the hills where the terrain was harsh and wild, where he was at one with the brigands and murderers who bowed to no law but the gun and the sword. Having discarded his French uniform and dressed in the clothes of a peasant, his face windburnt and gaunt, he had lost none of his determination. Despite the dangers, he had driven himself relentlessly. He knew where he was bound—to Lisbon and all the way to England if necessary, to revenge himself on Nathan Rochefort.
Rochefort had come after him, this he knew for a fact, having watched him and his companion from the lofty mountain heights of the Sierras. He knew Rochefort would kill him, he had recognised that, so he must kill Rochefort. And if he succeeded in killing the English spy, then there was always hope.
Lucy Lane and the Lieutenant Page 20