Desire and Deception

by Nicole Jordan

  "Protection?" Lauren shot him a startled glance. "But your men don't seem disrespectful."

  Kyle's grin was wry. "They wouldn't dare. Not when Jason brought you on board and while I remain by your side. This lot was handpicked, so they're a cut above the normal lot of seamen, but I've seen more than one man lose his head over a beautiful woman, risking position, name, everything in a moment of madness." He paused to study Lauren, his hazel eyes becoming quite serious. "Indeed, for a number of years, I was convinced that was what Jason had done. I must say, you aren't at all what I had imagined. I thought Jase was caught in the coils of some scheming hussy, even if you were worth a fortune."

  "You thought that of me?" Lauren said weakly.

  There was another long pause, before Kyle added, "Jason tried for a long time to find you. He even sent me here to the States a few years ago to look for you. But I never expected . . . I've been to New Orleans once or twice since then, but I suppose you were too well hidden." His serious expression relaxed then, and he regarded her with a rueful smile. "This ship is even named after you. I'm afraid it was my idea to call her the Siren. And it wasn't meant to be flattering. It didn't help to find you in that gaming house, either. But . . . well, I should have known you wouldn't be mixed up in that kind of business. I'm just sorry I, er, propositioned you."

  "It was understandable, Captain," Lauren murmured, discomfited by his apology. She was relieved when Kyle changed the subject.

  Her tour was interrupted a short time later by Jason's reappearance. He was carrying a bundle under one arm and a basket under the other. "Some books for you to read on the shipping industry," he said, indicating the leather-bound volumes. "And Ulysses." With that cryptic remark, he presented the basket to Lauren.

  Hearing a muffled but decidedly mournful howl, Lauren gave Jason a quizzical look, then carefully peeked under the lid. When an angry orange ball of fur tried to leap out, she hastily shut it again. Stunned, Lauren glanced from Jason to the basket and then back again. "My cat," she breathed.

  She looked adorably bewildered, Jason thought, glad that the occupation of his hands kept him from sweeping Lauren into his arms. He cleared his throat, directing his thoughts back to the cat. "I wouldn't let him out till you get home," he advised. "I had the devil of a time coaxing him in there. And as fond as Ulysses is of Kyle, he might not want to leave the ship."

  Lauren knew she should say something, do something, but she was too astonished to speak. She was also unable to tear her gaze away from the tender light in Jason's eyes. She hardly heard Kyle's remark that she was welcome to the damned beast and a reward, too, for taking Ulysses away.

  She hadn't recovered from the first shock when Jason announced that he had sent for the carriage but that he would be unable to drive her home. He apologized to Lauren, explaining that a matter had come up that required his attention and that he would probably be away from the city for a few days.

  Lauren stared at Jason, puzzled, wondering what mysterious mission could possibly take him away from New Orleans, and even though she intercepted the look that passed between him and Kyle, she could read nothing in their silent communication. When Kyle gallantly offered his services as driver, Lauren accepted absently.

  It was after she had been handed into the carriage and the parcels had been stowed away, that Lauren asked Jason what his business was. His answer as he stood looking down at her was evasive. "It doesn't concern you or the Carlin Line directly."

  "Forgive me for prying, then," she said curtly.

  Seeing the stubborn set of her chin, Jason flashed her a grin. "You were the one who wanted to keep our relationship impersonal," he reminded her. "Business partners only, if I recall your warning correctly." When her lips tightened, he cocked his head at her in amusement. "Do I dare hope you will miss me, Cat-eyes?"

  "Dare whatever you wish," she replied haughtily.

  He raised a quizzical brow. "Whatever I wish?"

  At his intimate tone, Lauren felt vivid color stain her cheeks. She managed to return his gaze steadily, though. "I doubt your absence will cause anyone any particular distress, my lord," she said sweetly. "Certainly not me. I am sure to discover something to occupy my time."

  "You have the reading material I gave you. You should find it informative, if a bit dry."

  The sparkling devils in Jason's eyes suddenly made Lauren suspicious of his motives. Her own eyes narrowed. "You've thought of everything, haven't you?"

  "Probably not," Jason laughed. "But Kyle will be here to watch over you. I trust you won't lead him on any wild chases." Taking her hand, Jason brought it to his lips. Even this simple gesture sent a flood of warmth surging through Lauren, and she nervously withdrew her hand from his grasp.

  Jason released her reluctantly. He didn't want to leave; he felt far more than she the loss of parting. But he didn't intend to jeopardize his goal with a premature action.

  When he spoke, however, he failed to maintain his light tone. "Take care of yourself, Lauren," he murmured, gazing at her intently. "I'll see you as soon as I return."

  Held by the spell of that vivid blue gaze, Lauren was almost glad when Kyle gave the horses the office to start and Jason was left behind.

  For much of the return drive to Bellefleur, Lauren remained silent. Then she bestirred herself to question Kyle about the suddenness of Jason's trip.

  "You know as much about it as I, Miss DeVries," Kyle replied guardedly.

  Lauren's raised eyebrow declared her disbelief. "But you do know where he's going?"

  Kyle arched his neck, as if his collar had suddenly become rather uncomfortable. "You wouldn't expect me to betray a confidence, would you?"

  "I suppose not," Lauren conceded. "Is Jason going to Barataria?" When Kyle gave her a startled glance, she realized she had hit upon the truth. "Don't be alarmed. You didn't actually divulge any secrets."

  Kyle looked at her in amazement. "Was that merely a wild guess, or do you have the same outstanding powers of deduction that Jason has?"

  She smiled. "It was only a guess. A trip to the swamps might take several days, and I couldn't think of anyplace else he might go that he wouldn't want to divulge. Besides, at the bank I saw Monsieur Sauvinet give Jason a note. Everyone knows that Sauvinet has connections with the smugglers. He's said to have handled Jean Lafitte's affairs for years."

  Kyle pulled the horses down to a jog. "Are you acquainted with the pirate?" he asked curiously.

  "Not personally. Jean-Paul is, of course, but I only saw Monsieur Lafitte once when he was walking along the street. And I understand he prefers to be called a privateer, not a pirate."

  "Same thing, to my mind, considering the fate of British merchant ships at his hands. I understand that all his property was confiscated after the war."

  Lauren nodded. "After he earned his pardon by fighting for the Americans. Jean-Paul was outraged at the way he was treated. Now Lafitte has challenged the government in court in order to regain what was taken from him. But does that have anything to do with Jason? He wants something from Lafitte, doesn't he? Else he wouldn't be going to see him."

  Kyle kept his gaze trained on the horses. "I can't tell you, Miss Car— Miss DeVries."

  "You mean you won't tell me. I don't see why it's such a secret. I've been exposed to smugglers all my life. Very well, then," she said when Kyle remained silent. "Will you tell me if what Jason is doing might be dangerous?"

  Kyle sighed. "I don't think it is. Unless Lafitte has nursed a grudge all these years." He glanced at Lauren and noted the question in her eyes. "That was how Jason acquired his first ship. He won a British frigate from the pirate on a throw of the dice."

  "Jason told me he didn't care to associate with Frenchmen. Was he telling the truth?"

  "Most certainly. It's his greatest prejudice. And I doubt if Jason would ever willingly lie to you," Kyle said carefully.

  "You have great faith him," she returned, her tone dry.

  "I should. You might say that Jason c
hanged my life. With the reward money he received for returning the frigate to her owner, plus a little that he had saved, Jason bought the Leucothea, his first vessel. He signed me on to teach him what I knew about seamanship, in exchange for half interest in the ship."

  Remembering her own agreement with Jason, Lauren glanced down her hands. "Was it . . . did you find you had made a good bargain?" she asked after a moment.

  "The best."

  Each of them became lost in their own thoughts then, and they were more than halfway to Bellefleur when something else occurred to Lauren. "Has anyone ever succeeded in outwitting Jason?" she asked suddenly.

  Kyle grinned at her question. "Only you, to my knowledge."

  Lauren shook her head. "Oh, no. If I had, I wouldn't be here with you." Seeing Kyle grimace, she smiled ruefully. "I didn't mean quite mean it that way. It's just that again Jason managed to get me to do precisely what he wished. I meant to pay a visit to Veronique, but I was so surprised when Jason said he was leaving that I forgot. I suppose you wouldn't consider taking me back to town?"

  Kyle hesitated. "Jason wouldn't thank me. The casino isn't exactly a proper place for a lady."

  "So I've been told," Lauren said wryly. But she accepted his answer as a refusal and withdrew a roll of bills from her reticule, holding it out to him. "Then will you give Veronique this when you next see her? It's the money she loaned me the other day."

  Kyle whistled. "She must be rich. Do you suppose I've found myself an heiress?" he asked with a laugh as he pocketed the wad.

  "Veronique understands the necessity for being frugal," Lauren replied stiffly. "She is saving for what she calls her lean years."

  "I'll wager they'll be a long time in coming."

  "Would you?"

  Subjected to Lauren's cool stare, Kyle looked as if he might like to squirm. "Have I said something I to offend you, Miss DeVries?"

  Hearing his contrite tone, Lauren lowered her gaze. "No, I'm sorry. I just don't care for jests about heiresses."

  "Poor taste, was it? How about honor among thieves, virtue among— No, that's worse. Perhaps I'd better keep my mouth shut. You and Veronique are close, are you not?"

  "Very close. She's one of the few people I know who doesn't try to wrap me in swaddling as if I were a child."

  "Is that a hint, ma'am? All right, then. I can't share Jason's reasons for leaving town, but I don't see why I can't tell you how it first started."

  As Kyle proceeded to relate what he knew of Jason's past, Lauren listened attentively.

  "Jason's the younger son of the sixth Marquess of Effing—an interfering old autocrat if there ever was one. Jason attended Oxford because his father wanted him to, but found it easier to keep his independence by refusing the income Lord Effing offered. Which means that while other young gents frequented gaming hells for sport, Jason did it from necessity.

  "Lord Effing got on his high ropes when Jason used his gambling winnings to purchase a commission in the Royal Navy. The marquess considered a naval career an unfit occupation for someone of Stuart lineage, you see, and he used his connections in the government to make Jason's position extremely uncomfortable. So Jason gave in gracefully and resigned, then removed himself from Lord Effing's sphere of power by going to America."

  "That's when he became a trapper?" Lauren asked.

  Kyle nodded. "And that was the same year he acquired the Leucothea as the result of a wager. I met him shortly afterward, and we made the bargain that proved profitable to us both. In all, Jason was here for nearly two years. After he returned to England, his father tried again to bring him in line, insisting that he marry and settle down. Jason refused—until the marquess made that arrangement with your guardian.

  "I probably shouldn't be telling you this," Kyle admitted with a frown. "Whatever is—or will be—between you and Jason is for you two to work out. I promised not to get involved. But Jase is dearer to me than a brother, and I care what happens to him. I've never seen a man change so . . . Well, he was just different after you left England." Kyle paused, noting Lauren's bent head. "But the Carlin Line has been good for him. Gave him something to think about. He's treated those ships as if they were his own children, Miss DeVries. And made you a lot of money in the process. Of course, he set London on its ear. A marquess in trade is next to sedition in England. But Jase has never been one to sit back and let others work. He nigh gave his father an apoplexy every time he started some new venture."

  Disturbed by the turn their conversation had taken, Lauren nevertheless tried to keep her tone casual. "I presume Jason inherited the title from his father? He neglected to mention anything about it."

  "Well, I suppose he considers it unimportant here. Americans don't put much stock in titles. But Jason is Lord Effing now. He never expected to inherit, but two years ago his older brother and nephews were killed in a fire, a tragic accident. Jase never thought much of his brother, but I think he would give quite a lot to have him back. Of course, now he has to marry, carry on the line. The old lord would have wanted it. Jason rarely was what you could call a dutiful son, but I think he feels obligated to respect his father's wishes."

  Lauren kept her gaze carefully averted. "But surely he could have found a wife before now."

  "Oh, I don't doubt that at all," Kyle said mildly. "In England, the ladies were standing in line."

  "Then why did he not?"

  Kyle gave her a long, penetrating look. "That's not hard to explain, Miss DeVries. He was waiting for you to return."

  Lauren felt her cheeks grow warm, knowing there was no reply she could make. She was beginning to understand the depth of Jason's determination to marry her, but now more than ever she could see what a misalliance that would be. A marquess was such an exalted position, close to royalty. Lauren mentally shook her head. Renegade nobleman or no, Jason could never marry a bastard. He would face social ostracisim.

  And then there was her involvement with Burroughs's deception. Jason would be swept into a horrendous scandal if she went to prison.

  Deploring this recent tendency of hers to blush, Lauren lapsed into silence once more. Neither she nor Kyle said another word until the plantation was reached.

  Lauren found herself counting the days till Jason's return. It wasn't that she had too little to occupy her time. Kyle called daily and took her for long drives around the countryside, and he even brought Veronique along once. When Veronique told her Felix Duval had been asking about her, Lauren wrote the gambler a long missive, saying that Marguerite regretfully declined his offer of protection and adding that she would no longer be entertaining at the casino since she was leaving the city. She hoped he would accept her explanations at face value.

  The books Jason had given her on the shipping industry also kept her busy. She discovered, to her chagrin, that complete concentration was required if she were to understand one- tenth of what she read, yet she doggedly plowed through the heavy material since it gave her enough background to ask intelligent questions during her discussions with both Kyle and Jean-Paul.

  And of course there was her wardrobe. Lila was ecstatic that Lauren was at last dressing like a lady of quality, and Lauren frequently had to bite her tongue while Lila supervised the final fittings and offered detailed and mostly unneeded advice.

  In all, Lauren was quite, quite busy. During all this activity, though, she was aware of a budding sense of anticipation and excitement. She refused to admit that it was because she was looking forward to Jason's return, and instead attributed it to her plan to rid herself of the Carlin fortune for good, along with Jason's unwelcome attentions. The idea had occurred to her one day when she was talking to Jean-Paul about the new office.

  She had already discovered, much to her surprise, that while Jean-Paul was willing for her to marry the "English lord", he was unwilling to commit himself to the distribution venture. He wanted to hear more about such things as assets and debits and insurance underwriters and profit margins before throwing his weight behin
d the project. He had not become rich, he said, by investing in firms that had no strong guiding hand.

  Since she was unable to respond knowledgeably about the stability of the Carlin Line, Lauren deferred that discussion till Jason returned. But she did argue that Jean-Paul would not be required to make any investment.

  "Ah, but there you are wrong, m'amie," Beauvais countered. "You ask me to stake my reputation, my honor. I have heard of the Carlin ships and their success, but what of their future? Perhaps it is true that your Englishman, as the trustee, has been responsible for this success. But what will happen when he is no longer there to offer you advice? Could you run the company yourself? Would you even wish to do such a thing? For many men it would be difficult. For a woman with no experience, nearly impossible. Let us say, for hypothetical purposes, that I agree to this distribution scheme. I obtain the customers you seek. For a time everyone is satisfied. Then one day your ships fail to deliver what has been promised. Ppff! My reputation is diminished, my integrity is questioned. Non, Laurie, ma belle. It is better for me to avoid such risks altogether. Without some guarantee that my investment is protected, I should have to decline."

  "And I suppose," she said warily, suspecting that she was again being manipulated, "that such a guarantee might come in the form of my marriage to a man who could run the company?"

  "That would be the most convincing argument I could think of, yes. But I understand your feelings. You do not wish to marry. So that is that."

  Lauren focused her cool stare on the Creole. "No, that is blackmail."

  Jean-Paul shook his dark head. "Mais, non! It is smart business." He did, however, have the grace to look the tiniest bit ashamed. "But I do not pressure you to accept this marriage you do not want. It is your choice. To me, your happiness is more important than the fee I might earn. My Lila thinks you would be happy with this Anglais, but it is you who must live with the decision. If you cannot, then you cannot."

  "I cannot," Lauren declared with determination. "But there must be an alternative. What if Jason agreed to remain as the trustee, or perhaps a permanent officer of the company?"