The echoes of her throaty cries were the only sounds to disturb the quiet of the golden afternoon.
Chapter Thirteen
During the remaining three days of their journey, Lauren discovered that Jason was entirely serious about involving her with the Carlin Line. He started by telling her of the China and West Indian trade, the foundation upon which Jonathan Carlin's fortune had been built, then described the organization of the current company which he now controlled.
Lauren was impressed by the magnitude and complexity, for she hadn't realized the firm was so large. "And you make all the decisions?" she asked as she rode beside him that first day.
Jason flashed her a grin. "Hardly any, if the truth be known. I have a reliable man to oversee most of the details, and the London office has an efficient staff. Normally I'm only required to give my approval, though sometimes I come up with an idea or two of my own."
But when Jason related some of the problems and challenges the fleet constantly faced, Lauren realized Jason was drastically understating the impact he had had on the continuing success of the Carlin Line.
"Still," she observed, "you must have found it difficult at times, managing such a vast enterprise."
"Actually it's been a great deal of fun. Burroughs taught me a great deal before he died." Noting Lauren's sudden silence, Jason gave her a speculative glance. "Burroughs was actually quite brilliant when it came to making business decisions. It's a shame that he should have been such a complete addlebrain when dealing with you. I suspect he was afraid of you."
Lauren eyed Jason skeptically. "Of me?"
"He was scared to death of the responsibility. I must admit he didn't handle it at all well."
"You make him sound almost human."
"And so he was, with human failings like the rest of us, Lauren. I don't expect you can ever find it in your heart— mind what I said—to forgive him. But perhaps some day you'll understand why he did what he did."
Lauren pressed her lips together, unwilling to consider the possibility or to discuss Burroughs further.
"Have you ever considered becoming a governess?" Jason asked suddenly, causing her to regard him with puzzlement. "That tight-lipped frown of yours would strike terror in the breast of the most stalwart child."
Lauren made an effort to relax, and even favored Jason with a faint smile.
"Better," he laughed. "I shouldn't like to think my new partner was planning to desert me when I need her help."
"Help?"
Reining in his horse, Jason brought their small cavalcade to a halt so he could study the trail. Lauren watched him, fascinated that he could make anything of the jumbled tracks crisscrossing the ground. He was apparently satisfied with the signs, for he urged his horse on and continued the conversation where they had left off.
"You'll understand, once you speak to Beauvais. He wanted to call me out for my behavior the night I barged into his house. I refused his challenge, of course, for I was in something of a hurry, and fortunately Lila managed to calm us both down. Even so, I'll be lucky if Beauvais considers accepting my apology for the things I said to him—the least insulting of which was to disparage his intelligence for letting you work in a gaming hell."
"But Jean-Paul had nothing to do with it," Lauren defended.
"I know, it was all my fault," Jason said good humoredly. "But I'm counting on you to smooth things over with him. Actually, I liked Beauvais when I met him. He would find that quite a compliment if he knew me better. I have a strong aversion to all things French. Comes from having to keep my homeland from being overrun by a pint-sized Corsican with a corpulent ego, I don't doubt."
"Does he know about your past relationship with his wife?"
At her innocent tone, Jason shot Lauren a wry glance. "Not to my knowledge—and I don't plan on telling him, either. Lila wasn't concerned about it, and that particular intelligence might have a definite effect on our profits, if not my life. Kyle thinks we need Beauvais's assistance to start a reliable distributorship." Jason then went on to explain his plan to open an office in New Orleans.
"It sounds exciting," Lauren observed wistfully, not hiding the envy in her voice.
"Rather dull stuff, actually. But I'm glad you don't see it that way, for you're to be in charge." Jason grinned when she looked surprised. "You didn't think that I would let you fail to hold up your end of our partnership, did you? You'll be quite busy, sweetheart. Worn off your feet, even. Too tired, I hope, to even think about playing the pianoforte for a melee of lecherous gamblers."
One delicate brow lifted. "And what will you be doing while I am working my fingers to the bone?"
"Keeping you out of trouble, I trust." The humorous gleam in Jason's blue eyes deepened at the arch look Lauren bestowed on him. "I get to be your adviser. And I'll also have to supervise the warehouse construction."
"Would there be any jobs for Matthew MacGregor, do you suppose? I had planned for him to captain my ship, but he says he's getting too old."
"Tell me what you know about him."
"He was once a smuggler," Lauren announced, curious to hear Jason's reaction.
His mobile mouth twisted wryly. "I don't find that difficult to believe, knowing the colorful pasts of some of your other friends. But Lila already told me that much about him. I confess I wasn't shocked. I prefer to stay on the right side of the law myself, but still, I can admire an enterprising fellow. I'm more interested in MacGregor's trading skills. His prior occupation doesn't concern me, so long as he's trustworthy now."
"Matthew has always been trustworthy," Lauren declared, not hiding her intense loyalty. She then told Jason about Matthew's fur trade and how he had managed to develop it into a successful business.
Jason nodded thoughtfully. "You may be right. We might be wise to involve him in this venture somehow. I'll talk to him when he returns."
After that, their topics of conversation ranged widely, from the shipping industry in general, to their personal histories, to plans for the immediate future. When Jason asked Lauren about her life during the past four years, she found herself talking to him as if she had known him always. It was only later that she realized the ease with which Jason drew her story from her.
Later, when she spoke of Lila's marriage, Jason asked how she had weathered the war between America and England. Lauren told him of the impending attack by British troops two years before that had had the entire city of New Orleans in a state of panic. Even though the American government had sent Andrew Jackson to defend the city, his forces were ill-equipped and mostly comprised of civilians.
"Lila was frantic," Lauren admitted, "primarily because Jean-Paul was involved in the fighting. We were prepared to leave Bellefleur at a moment's notice if New Orleans fell, but as it turned out, there were very few American casualties, and Jean-Paul received hardly a scratch."
"While the British lost two thousand troops," Jason put in grimly.
"I know. It was horrible. They said it was the bloodiest battle of the entire war. And the terrible irony was that it took place two weeks after the Ghent peace treaty was signed."
When Lauren wondered out loud if the fighting in Napoleonic wars had been as fierce, Jason told her something of his own past experiences and his battles at sea. He actually said very little about the dangers he had faced, but the realization that the virile, handsome man riding beside her could have lost his life many times over left Lauren strangely disturbed.
One other thought also disturbed her: the memory of what had happened that day beside the pool. Although she tried not to dwell on it, she couldn't forget how easily Jason had aroused her and brought her to a shattering, gasping release, or the way she had surrendered without a single protest.
She had thought she was safe from his advances since he had vowed not to make love to her until she agreed to marry him. And, strictly speaking, Jason had kept his word. He hadn't taken her, nor had he had any physical gratification himself. He had merely succeeded in heighten
ing her already intense awareness of him. Every time he came near her, she remembered the scent of his skin and the heat of his mouth, and a shaft of unwelcome desire would quiver through her— which only served to increase the tension in her body and make her even more aware of the current radiating between them.
He had been right about that, Lauren reflected uneasily as she glanced at Jason. There was a compelling, ever-present physical attraction between them. It existed, smoldering like banked embers, ready to flame into life at the merest touch.
Her biggest problem now would be ensuring that it never had the opportunity to do so again.
The unusual dry spell ended the next day, and twice Lauren and Jason were caught in a torrential downpour. Even so, the last miles of their journey passed pleasantly and with remarkable swiftness. When they finally arrived in New Orleans after ferrying across the Rigolets Channel, it was still raining and dusk was setting in.
That was when Lauren realized she might have made a dreadful mistake by agreeing to Jason's proposal. He took full advantage of any license implied by a partnership by refusing to let her return to the gaming house, even to fetch her clothes. Nor would he hear of her living alone in Matthew's cabin.
"I won't live at Bellefleur," Lauren declared. "I've taken advantage of Lila's hospitality far too often as it is."
"She doesn't think so," Jason returned. "Besides, I intend to stay there if Beauvais can be brought to renew his invitation."
"Maybe Jean-Paul will refuse to accept your apology."
"Lauren, I can only uphold our bargain if we spend some time together."
"Then perhaps we should forget the whole thing."
"I'm sorry you feel that way," Jason replied blandly. "April is a pleasant month for weddings, don't you agree?" When Lauren scowled, he laughed. "You know, sweetheart, you're the first woman of my acquaintance who could be threatened with marriage."
Lauren was quite out of charity with Jason by the time they reached Bellefleur. When they halted in front of the magnificent, galleried plantation house, she didn't even wait for Jason's assistance to dismount. Giving him only a curt farewell, she ran swiftly up the wide front steps into the house. Jason stared after her for a long moment before gathering the reins of the two spare horses and starting back down the wide oak-lined drive toward New Orleans and his hotel.
Lauren had another reason, she discovered after he had gone, to be angry with Jason. Lila greeted her with the inevitable tears and remonstrations, while Jean-Paul demanded a complete accounting of what had happened.
The slender, dark-eyed Creole frowned the entire time Lauren was making her apologies and explanations, but when she had concluded her abbreviated tale, Jean-Paul directed a challenging stare at her, much in the manner of an irate father. "Where is this . . . this Lord Effing now?" he demanded.
Puzzled, Lauren glanced at Lila for an explanation. The older woman shifted uncomfortably. "Jason Stuart is a marquess now, Lauren. The Marquess of Effing."
"He promised," her husband interjected, "to do the honorable thing and wed you."
Lauren was so taken aback that she simply stared at Jean- Paul.
"He took you to his ship, compromised you—"
"Jason told you that?" Lauren asked in amazement, finally finding her tongue.
"Oui! Do you deny it?"
Lauren clamped her lips together, realizing now what Jason had meant about having Lila's blessing. Of course Lila would take his part. He had agreed to a marriage! And now Jean-Paul was adding his weight to the argument. How dare Jason not warn her what to expect? And how dare he divulge anything of what had happened between them?
Trying to school her expression into a semblance of calm, Lauren nodded. "I do deny it," she replied. "Jason—his lordship—exaggerated greatly. Just because I accompanied him to his ship doesn't mean he compromised me."
"But Lauren, you were with him for several days, alone," Lila pointed out, before Jean-Paul added firmly, "He must be made to marry you at once."
Lauren stood her ground. "Jean-Paul, that is ridiculous. I have no intention of marrying him."
"He made no advances toward you, then?"
Lauren glanced at Lila and hesitated.
"I shall call him out!" Jean-Paul declared in ringing tones, gesticulating with his hands to emphasize his determination.
A similar thought had occurred to Lauren, but when Jean- Paul spoke with such conviction, she wondered if he really meant it. "Jean-Paul," she said sharply, not pausing to consider the incongruity of suddenly finding herself Jason's champion. "This talk of dueling is absurd."
"Then there must be a marriage. If Lord Effing has dishonored you, he must be made to—"
"May I remind you that you are not responsible for me? I appreciate your concern, but it is my future you are arranging without my consent. I shall not marry Jason Stuart, ever. He is merely the trustee of the Carlin Line, and he means to teach me about the shipping industry. He and I are partners for a time, that is all. I had hoped to gain your support for the new distribution system he has in mind, since Jason says you would be a great asset, but I see you aren't prepared to listen. I shall continue this conversation in the morning, when you have had ample time to adjust to the idea. Good night, Lila." With a regal inclination of her head, Lauren turned and swept from the room, shutting the door firmly behind her.
The silence she left behind was pronounced. Lila twisted her fingers together in agitation, her eyes trained blindly on the carpet. Then Jean-Paul gave a soft laugh and drew his wife into his arms. "Something troubles you, ma chérie?"
Sighing, Lila rested her dark head on his shoulder. "You would not truly call him out. . . ?"
"Of course it will not come to that," Jean-Paul reassured her. "If his intentions were not honorable . . . Well then, that would be another matter entirely. I predict that by summer our beautiful Laurie will be safely wed."
"They would be so good for each other. But Lauren won't marry him, I know it."
"Do not worry so. Monsieur Stuart strikes me as being able to handle the matter. He has already progressed farther than I would have thought possible."
Had she heard Jean-Paul's prediction, Lauren would have hotly refuted it. At the moment she was upstairs in the elegant bedroom that was hers whenever she stayed at Bellefleur, making a vow to keep as far away from Jason Stuart as possible. It made her furious to realize how easily she had been manipulated.
She had been a fool to agree to Jason's proposition, she could see now. She had given him a decided point of leverage at no cost to himself. And now she would have to endure Lila's compulsory lectures, as well. Jason might have agreed to drop the subject of marriage, but Lila never would.
Lauren's guess was correct; at breakfast the next morning, Lila immediately launched into the arguments she had prepared.
What truly incensed Lauren, however, was the discovery that Jean-Paul had turned over her entire savings to the bank where the Carlin Line funds were deposited, effectively givin<* Jason control of all her hard-earned capital. Lauren lost her normally cool temper then, roundly informing Jean-Paul that she had no intention of acknowledging Jason's claim of guardianship, despite whatever papers he had to the contrary, adding that she had had enough of dictatorial guardians to last her a lifetime!
Lila broke into their disagreement then, trying to smooth over the troubled moment by pointing out the advantages of marriage to Lauren. But by ten o'clock, Lauren had listened to all she could bear of Lila's gentle attempts at persuasion and had taken refuge in the garden.
When Jason was announced by a house servant a half hour later, Lauren was still seething with indignation. The rain had stopped, but the bench where she had settled was damp, and she made a great show of meticulously brushing moisture from her skirts when she saw him approaching. He looked impossibly handsome and elegant in a dove gray coat and trousers, but she dragged her gaze away, silently deploring the way her heart leapt at the mere sight of him.
"Well, do
es Beauvais mean to forgive me?" Jason asked when he received a terse "good-morning" in return to his greeting.
Lauren studiously avoided his eyes, keeping hers trained on the ground. "Yes, but I shall not, my lord."
"My lord? What ever happened to Jason?" When Lauren said nothing, Jason eyed her warily. "Poor Lauren, was it so very bad? Did I err in leaving you to face the wolves alone?"
Her head remained bowed, her hands folded primly in her lap.
"Lauren, look at me, please." When she didn't respond, Jason gently grasped her chin, compelling her to meet his gaze. His heart sank at what he saw in her eyes. The glitter in the gold-green depths was cold, hard, brittle.
Those gold-flecked eyes widened innocently. "Why, whatever is the matter, Jason?"
"You tell me," he countered.
"Why, nothing, nothing at all. I enjoy being scolded and harassed and chided and coerced all morning!" Lauren twisted her head, making him release his grasp. Her voice suddenly became accusing. "How could you have told Lila you made love to me?"
Jason casually propped a booted foot up on the bench beside her. "I don't recall being nearly so graphic."
The hint of laughter in his tone made Lauren want to slap him. "It amounts to the same thing! And you knew what she would say, what Jean-Paul would say."
"Which was?" Jason prompted.
"Which was that I should marry you. Don't deny it!"
"Oh, are we engaged now? Is it acceptable for me to kiss my fiancée then?" Before she realized his intent, Jason had taken her hand and raised it to his lips.
Lauren snatched her hand away and glared. "Don't be absurd! Of course we aren't engaged. I will not marry you, now or ever. And as far as I'm concerned, any bargain we made is no longer valid."
"I never imagined you could be so easily flustered."
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