Ashley released Leonie's arm. His mouth thin with frustration and his eyes full with something ugly and deadly, he muttered, "You win this time, Morgan... but I'll be back. Remember she's my wife and the law is on my side."
"We'll just see about that, won't we?" Morgan returned cooly. "I wouldn't go to the law if I were you—there are questions of fraud and impersonation to be settled. I'm afraid you might find the officials here in New Orleans inclined to look askance at anything you might want to do concerning your rights as Leonie's husband."
Ashley's chest swelled with rage, and jerking his horse around, he snarled, "Think you've brought me to a standstill, do you? Well, think again, cuz! I'll best you yet!" And with that he spurred his horse and raced pell-mell down the road in the direction from which he had come.
Chapter 30
Most of what Ashley had snarled to Morgan had been sheer bravado, but by the time he made the journey back to New Orleans, he had begun to think he would best his cousin. He was, after all, married to the bitch, even if there was a question of fraud or impersonation. She was his wife and that should give him some sort of edge against his cousin.
Reaching the seedy waterfront tavern, where he had secured a room, he threw the reins of his rented horse to a surly servant. As he sat in his shabby room, he reviewed his situation. It had never occurred to him that the promise of a fortune would not bring Leonie to his side. He had also not thought that Morgan would be anywhere on the scene.
Morgan's presence had been a definite shock, but one that Ashley promptly recovered from—Morgan was an obstacle, yes, but it was the woman who interested him, not his cousin. And if Morgan proved to be too much of a problem—well, then, he would kill him.
Drinking what the tavern keeper had claimed was "good" whiskey, Ashley contemplated his next move. Obviously it wasn't going to be quite as simple as he had first thought to convince Leonie to come to France with him.
But Ashley was not easily deterred, and despite his defeat, after a few more glasses of whiskey, he had convinced himself that while Morgan may have won the first skirmish, he would win the war!
The key to the entire situation was Leonie. He had handled her badly, he realized. He shouldn't have been so forward. No, that wasn't the way with his dear little wife. An apology should have come first, he decided. He should have apologized for taking advantage of her and for his impersonation. Softened her up a bit, acted ashamed for his behavior, aroused her sympathy with a heartrending tale. Then he could have brought into play his easy charm and wooed her into compliance.
Ashley had mixed emotions about Morgan's presence on the scene. One part of him would have been happier if his cousin wasn't around—it would have made things so much simpler. But on the other hand, the opportunity to avenge himself on Morgan for destroying the profitable agreement he'd had with the French had presented itself. Ashley's lips curved in a cruel smile.
With an effort he wrenched his thoughts away from revenge and concentrated on Leonie. And as the hour grew late, Ashley became positive that the sheer size of the fortune waiting in France would give him a much needed advantage. No one, he thought incredulously, would let an inheritance of that magnitude go begging.
By the time he went to bed, he had come to the conclusion that it was imperative that he see Leonie again... alone. Once she understood just how much money was at stake, he was certain that, with the aid of his flattery, she would see reason. And if she didn't... His handsome face was suddenly ugly. If she didn't come willingly, she'd come as his captive.
His decision about Leonie made, Ashley's thoughts once again turned towards his cousin... and revenge. And remembering this afternoon's scene between Morgan and Leonie a malicious smile lit his face. By God, but it had been amusing to see his usually unshakable cousin struggling to tell the chit the truth! Damnation! He'd had given a pretty penny to have been around when Leonie first presented herself to Morgan's notice. His smile faded just a little. It would have better for his plans, naturally, if they hadn't met, and at first he dismissed Morgan's interest in Leonie as negligible. But then his eyes narrowed slightly as he remembered the expression on Morgan's face above the deadly pistol, and the air of tenderness that had surrounded the pair of them as they had stood near the little graveyard. Could it be, he wondered with astonishment, that his proper cousin had fallen in love? And with his wife? Ashley laughed out loud. What a jest, what a royal jest! And what a perfect revenge to snatch her out of Morgan's arms! Obviously, Morgan had been on the point of explaining the truth to her, and just as obviously from the impression of intimacy between them he had taken advantage of his position as her husband and bedded the wench. The bitch will claw his eyes out, Ashley thought with satisfaction. I'd wager my life on it!
* * *
Ashley would have lost his wager, although the urge to do exactly that had been Leonie's first inclination. She had stood like a small, frozen statue for a second, watching Ashley's diminishing figure, but the dust from his horse's hooves hadn't even settled before she had rounded furiously on Morgan, her sea-green eyes spitting golden fire. "Have you enjoyed yourself?" she demanded, the pain of betrayal knifing through her. The fact that the despicable creature who had just ridden away was her real husband was agonizing enough to accept, but to know that Morgan had kept that knowledge from her, hurt even more. But she was also badly frightened. To know that she was legally married to Ashley Slade was devastating, as much because of his depraved character as the yawning, black chasm that opened without warning between her and Morgan. And because she was frightened and hurt, she lashed out at the nearest person, the one person she had been learning to trust but who had betrayed her. Wanting to wound him as deeply, as painfully as she had been, she shouted at him, "Answer me, damn you! Or are you a craven coward like your cousin?" Taking a few steps nearer to him, she exclaimed with self-derision, "How you must have laughed at me when I appeared demanding my dowry from you! Did you and your family snicker behind my back? And when the jest wore thin, when you had taken your fill of me, did you arrange for my"—the words froze in her throat, but with an effort she spat out—"my husband to arrive to take me away?"
Morgan appeared unmoved by her outburst, his face impassive as he put the pistol away. His blue eyes wandered over her flushed, expressive features, silently noting the fury, the fright, and the pain that she couldn't conceal. His jaw tightened, but he asked calmly enough, "Do you really believe that, Leonie? Do you honestly think that I and my family would laugh at you? That we are the type of people to do such a thing? That we knew of his actions and not only condoned them, but took advantage of it?"
Her face working with emotion, she dashed away a tear and said angrily, "I don't know what to believe! Everything is suddenly—" Her voice broke and she turned away from him, her slender shoulders shaking.
Her distress was more than he could bear and with a swift stride he was next to her, spinning her around and pulling her into his arms. "Sweetheart, listen to me," he began. "I would have given my life to spare you this! I was trying to tell you of Ashley when he arrived. I certainly had no idea that he was coming here, and if I had, I would have seen to it that you were forewarned. My God, do you truly believe that I would, under any circumstances, allow him to lay a hand on you? Allow him to take you away from me?"
Hating the stupid tears that slid down her cheeks, furious at her own lack of control, almost resentfully she asked, "Why shouldn't you? I've caused you and your family prodigious embarrassment and scandal, so why should you care what happens to me?"
His face softened, his eyes full of tenderness, he demanded huskily, "Not care about what happens to my life? Not care about the bewitching little creature that exploded into my world and captured my heart?"
Leonie's breath caught in her throat, the tears drying, and with wide, incredulous eyes she stared up at his dark, intent features. There was no sign of guile on that lean, beloved face, no malice in those dark blue eyes that stared so piercingly into hers, n
o weakness in the curve of that full, sensuous mouth so near her own. Yet unable to comprehend what was so clearly revealed by his expression, desperately needing his emotions more plainly stated, she stammered, "W-wha-what do y-you mean?"
For a long moment their eyes were locked on each other and Morgan's pulse leaped at what he hoped he saw reflected in her own face. With a low groan, he pulled her urgently to him and muttered into her silky hair, "I love you, Leonie! I have practically since the first second I laid eyes on you at the Marshall ball. Why else," he demanded roughly, "do you think that believing the worst of you, certain you were a conniving, lying bitch, I suggested we live together at Le Petit?"
Ashley forgotten, the entire world forgotten except for Morgan and this dream she was experiencing, Leonie burrowed herself closer to his tall, powerful length. Delicious warmth seeped into her veins, driving away the deadly cold; her very bones felt as if they had turned to hot, sweet honey as the moments passed and Morgan's hands moved caressingly over her shoulders and back. It was heavenly to be here in his arms, to know at last that he did love her, but an imp of devilment compelled her to say gruffly, "You didn't suggest—you ordered me to live at Le Petit!"
With a determined hand he tipped up her chin. Bright laughter gleaming in the blue eyes, he mocked, "But you will forgive me, won't you?" Mesmerized, Leonie nodded, knowing she would forgive him anything. "And you will now," he breathed tantalizingly against her mouth, "tell me what I most want to hear from you... that my feelings are very definitely reciprocated. You will confess to loving me, won't you, cat-eyes?"
But he couldn't wait for her reply, the tempting mouth was too near his own, and smothering her answer, his lips trapped hers in a fierce, sweet kiss. With a tender urgency his mouth moved intoxicatingly against her soft lips, compelling, demanding, and yet questing, seeking the answer he wanted from her generous, eager response. Leonie responded wildly to his embrace, her slender arms clutching him frantically, as if she feared he would escape her, her body melting joyously against his hard shape. For a timeless moment, the universe faded, and they were lost in the wonder of their own new, bright, magnificent creation... love.
When Morgan finally lifted his dark head, he was breathless, and Leonie's eyes were shining with golden stars. His hand shaking just a little, he pushed away a lock of tawny hair from her temple. The blue eyes intent, he demanded softly, "You do love me? I wasn't just imagining things?"
Her hands clung to his shoulders, and she shook her head, breathing fervently, "Ah, no, Morgan, you were not imagining. I do love you! And I have been so miserable these past weeks not understanding how I could love you, when you appeared to be such a blackguard. My mind told me you were a villain, but my heart"—her mouth curved with a reminiscent smile—"my heart knew. My heart was not deceived."
Caressingly his fingers slowly traced the outline of her mouth. A rueful smile on his own lips, he confessed, "Mine too, I'm afraid. I tried to tell myself that you were everything despicable in a woman, but I couldn't stop myself from wanting you... from loving you."
It was an extraordinary moment for them, a moment when all the past misunderstandings were swept away, a moment when they could speak freely their hearts' desire; a lovely, lasting moment that surrounded them in warmth, protecting them from the icy reality that awaited them. They had moved as they spoke beneath one of the many great oak trees that grew nearby. Morgan sat with his back comfortably propped against a massive trunk, his long legs stretched out in front of him. Leonie's head was cradled on his shoulder, her body curled next to his, her fingers toying with the buttons on his vest as they talked, the rise and fall of their voices only stopping when their lips met. Cocooned and insulated by the power of their love, they exchanged all the sweet vows that countless lovers before them had, certain that no one could ever love as deeply, as passionately, as completely as they did... as they always would.
But all too soon, reality intruded, destroying their secure world. It was Morgan who did it. His lips against her smooth forehead, he said painfully, "Under normal circumstances, right now I'd be demanding that you promise to marry me, but as it is..."
He stopped, and shifting their positions so that she lay back against the lush summer grass, he loomed over her and muttered, "You will marry me, though—once we have this damnable situation with Ashley settled?"
Her happiness faded, the stars in her eyes blurring as, insidiously, the insurmountable problem they faced towered before her. She tried to hide the worry, the fear she felt, and she forced a smile, and questioned, "Need you ask? I am yours, Morgan... I will be forever, no matter what your wicked cousin may try to do."
Morgan smiled grimly. "Hopefully we can stop him from doing anything, especially now that you and I know the truth. Together we will escape this tangle."
They discussed the matter at length, Morgan explaining quietly what he and the lawyer Monsieur Ramey had decided upon.
"You were so sure of me?" Leonie asked uncomfortably.
He shot her a look that made her entire body tingle. "No, I can't say that I was," he admitted. "The only thing I was sure of was that no woman would willingly want to remain married to a man who had defrauded and deceived her."
Leonie's gaze dropped from his, and in a whisper she asked, "Do very many people know what really happened? Your family, do they know the truth?"
Morgan shook his head, glad to have something he could reassure her about. "No. I've tried to keep as few people as I could from knowing. Not five people besides ourselves and Ashley know the truth and none of them would ever speak of it. Dominic is the only one in the family who knows, and you need not fear he will mention it." Throwing her an uncertain glance, he said huskily, "Once this is behind us, I had planned that we would marry secretly and allow the world to believe that we did marry six years ago."
The knowledge that he had never been offered a choice concerning marriage with her in the first place knifed through her, and assailed by a wave of shame, when she thought of everything he had done for her these past weeks, she turned her head away from him, saying in a small voice. "You don't have to, Morgan. Ashley's actions d-d-don't b-b-bind you to anything."
Urgently Morgan swung her face back towards him. His eyes darkening with emotion, he muttered, "But my heart binds me. I love you, Leonie, can't you understand that? It doesn't matter what went on before, all that matters now is that we have found each other! I won't let you go!" And fiercely his mouth came down on hers, his hard kiss burning away everything but the love they shared.
Dusk was only an hour away, when they arrived, arm in arm, back at the house. Both of them were subdued, each one busy with thoughts in which Ashley figured prominently, if not pleasantly.
Morgan went in search of Dominic immediately and informed him of Ashley's presence in Louisiana. "We'll have to keep a close watch on Leonie and Justin these next few days," he ended grimly. "I wouldn't put it past Ashley to attempt to kidnap either one of them."
Leonie was quiet during dinner, and afterward, wanting time alone to think, she slipped away to the old barn, where she had frequently gone as a child. After climbing up a new ladder to the hayloft, sighing, she settled in the sweet-smelling hay. Below she could hear Morgan's thoroughbreds moving restively in their temporary stalls, but staring blindly out the half-patched hole that still remained in the roof, that faint sound faded away as Ashley's sneering features rose up before her and she plunged headlong into the black abyss he had created six years ago.
Having seen Ashley in Morgan's presence, she could understand how she and her grandfather had been fooled. The resemblance was startling and to someone who was barely acquainted with either of them, it would be difficult to tell them apart... at first. With a shudder she remembered the look in Ashley's eyes before he had ridden away. Thieving, lying blackguard! She would never be his wife, she vowed.
All the differences she had noticed, all the bewilderment Morgan's actions had caused were now understood and she wondered how s
he could ever have mistaken Morgan for Ashley. I should have known that morning when he first saw Justin, she thought disgustedly. Ashley wouldn't have reacted the way Morgan had—that was for certain. But it didn't really matter now, she reminded herself forlornly. The truth was out and she must make the best of it.
The knowledge of Morgan's love warmed her heart and beat back some of the demons that threatened to tear her apart, but even his love couldn't comfort her entirely. She was Ashley's wife, and despite Morgan's assurances that an annulment could be obtained, she was aware that the future could be unpleasant. And of course, there was her prickly pride to contend with.
Thinking of all that Morgan had done for them, of his many kindnesses and generosity, she writhed with shame. He hadn't owed them a solitary thing—not his time, his name, his interest, or his money, and yet he had given freely, abundantly of all. Her eyes filled with tears. It was one thing to accept the bounty of a husband, another to take from a man who was more sinned against than sinning. Tortured by her thoughts, a small sob broke from her throat and she twisted over on her stomach, pressing her face into the fresh hay.
In the stable below Morgan heard the faint heart-wrenching sound and he walked to the ladder and climbed up into the loft. His eyes adjusting to the gloom, he spotted her crumpled form in the hay, and moved swiftly to her side. Sinking down next to her, his hand gently touching her shoulder, he said softly, "Sweetheart, don't cry so! You'll break my heart."
Leonie had been so lost in her own misery that she hadn't heard his light-footed approach and the sound of his voice and touch of his hand startled her. She jumped and turned over to face him. Fighting down a sob, she asked gruffly, "What are you doing here? How did you find me?"
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