And he had known then that he’d never stopped loving her, even while he’d hated her.
Surely she regretted her actions on that night so long ago, he had thought standing there watching her.
Surely she wouldn’t smile at him so and lean closer to him and emanate such happiness in his company if she didn’t regret that fateful night, if she didn’t want to be with him as much as he wanted to be with her.
He wanted her so much, all logic and sense was lost to him.
He grasped her arms and pulled her to him, consumed by her and by the feelings she awoke in him.
But as soon as his lips touched hers, she stiffened and pulled away.
“Lucas, don’t,” she whispered, sounding as tortured as he suddenly felt.
She gazed up at him, her eyes filled with a torment that seared his heart.
“I’m married,” she said, sending a dart of pain through him.
“He’s a bastard, Anna,” Lucas answered, his anger at her, himself, the animal she’d married, suddenly swirling through him.
“He’s my husband,” she argued stubbornly.
Lucas stared at her, desperately trying to understand this woman who had taken hold of his heart years ago and never released it.
“You cannot tell me that you love him.”
“Of course I don’t bloody love him,” she’d scoffed, and he would have smiled at her language, so odd coming from such a lady, but there was nothing worth smiling about in this situation. “But he’s taken enough from me, Lucas. I only have my pride left. I won’t become a woman who cuckolds her husband, no matter what sort of man he is. If I lose that small amount of integrity now, I shall be left with nothing.”
He understood. That was the kicker. And because he understood, he was not able to be angry with her.
Not about that.
But about everything else? He had no issue feeling rage for that. Long buried but never forgotten anger now swirled to the surface.
“Ah,” he sneered.
Her eyes had widened in shock at his tone. And he remembered ruthlessly pushing away any concern or regret.
“So, once again, the mighty Anna Spencer is toying with me as a cat would a mouse.”
“Lucas! No, I—”
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Grant. It’s as much my fault, for believing you had an ounce of feeling within you.”
She flinched as though he’d struck her, and his feelings of guilt valiantly tried to surface.
But they were no match for his remembered hurt and humiliation.
“You are as cruel and unfeeling as you have ever been.”
“And what of you?” she demanded, fire spitting in her molten eyes. “If I am unfeeling, it is you who has made me thus.”
Lucas was so hopping mad at that point that he barely registered her words.
All he managed was a disdainful look and a parting shot that would have his mother turning in her grave.
Schooling his features into a mask of indifference, he curled his lips and put the final nail in the coffin of their would-be relationship, forever.
“Forgive me, Mrs. Grant,” he drawled, brushing an imaginary piece of lint from his jacket. “These country events bore me so. I thought a quick tumble with a willing woman would make the time pass more pleasurably. But if you’re not willing, I am sure I can find another.”
He walked away, ignoring her gasp of shock, her look of hurt.
What did he care anyway?
It had only been later, whilst thoroughly in his cups and very much womanless, he had railed against her to a silent study, and her audacity to blame him for anything to do with their history.
She, who had sent her father to threaten him, beat him, force him to leave their village, the country even.
How dared she?
Of course, at that point it was too late to do anything about it. So he’d had to be content with cursing her to perdition and finishing the bottle of whiskey who had listened to his droning on all night.
A knock on the door shook Lucas from his miserable reverie.
“Enter,” he called.
The door opened, and to his surprise, Evelyn Carlyle, Countess of Downsbury waltzed in.
“My lady.” Lucas stood and bowed. “Shouldn’t you be at the wedding?”
“Shouldn’t you?” she retorted with a raised brow, and he couldn’t help but smile.
Evelyn Carlyle was unlike any Peer he’d ever met. But then, her beginnings hadn’t been very different from his own, really.
Yes, she’d been born to wealth, but she’d had that wealth stolen by Anna’s father and had really be raised as nothing more than a poor relation by that man and his awful wife.
She was only a countess because she’d fallen in love with Jonathan Spencer’s former partner in his work for the Crown, the Earl of Downsbury, who was as overprotective of his wife as one could get.
So why was she here alone?
“I am surprised Downsbury has let you come to such a place alone, my lady.” He spoke as he gestured to a seat in front of his desk.
“Let me?” the countess repeated. “My lady?”
“My apologies.” Lucas smiled. “Evelyn.”
She nodded her satisfaction then finally took the seat she offered.
“Let me, indeed,” she scoffed as she sat in the velvet-covered seat and smoothed the material of her gown. “As though he could stop me.”
“Of course he couldn’t,” Lucas acknowledged, moving to his own seat. “But I’m surprised he didn’t try.”
Evelyn smiled, far too innocently for Lucas’ liking.
“He doesn’t need to know I’m here, really,” she said sweetly, no doubt trying to charm him into conspiring with her.
And dammit, it was working.
Evelyn Carlyle and Gabrielle Dumas, whose wedding they’d both left rather abruptly, had an uncanny ability to bring out the protector in Lucas.
He saw Gabby as a sister and was becoming just as fond of the lady in front of him.
Which meant that he was embarrassingly easy to wrap around their fingers.
If he’d ever had a sister, he had no doubt she would have manipulated him in much the same way.
Both ladies were as far from sweet as he was when the occasion warranted, given that Evelyn had been a highway robber in her day, and Gabrielle a spy. And both were beautiful enough to send a man cross-eyed, so it was even easier for them to have people pander to their whims, none more so than their respective husbands.
And Lucas, apparently.
It was strange, he had to admit, that he could see how beautiful they were, Evelyn with her golden doll-like looks and Gabby with her exotic darkness, and that he could like them as much as he did, and yet not feel so much as a flicker of interest in them.
He supposed that was what having one’s heart stolen then crushed within weeks of each other would do to a man.
“So why are you here?” he asked.
He couldn’t offer tea because he didn’t keep any in the office. He never got female visitors here. Nor did he want any. This office was his sanctuary, even if it was just for a few more days.
“I’m here to see if you are quite well, given that you dashed from the party as though the hounds of hell were chasing you,” Evelyn replied matter-of-factly.
“I had work to do,” Lucas answered.
“Hmm.” Obviously, she didn’t believe him. “Well, I also came to give you a warning.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. Seems that in your haste to do your work, you insulted Anna, and Jonathan isn’t best pleased. In fact, it was only Gabby’s promises of, well, you can imagine…” she chattered outrageously.
Lucas was quite sure he didn’t want to imagine or discuss with Evelyn what it was that Gabby was promising Jonathan.
“Anyway, I imagine he’ll be suitably distracted for quite a while. But you really mustn’t go around insulting the sister of a man who is so fond of shooting things.”
Evelyn w
as smiling, and her tone was nonchalant and friendly. But there was a steeliness there, too.
She was protective of her cousin, just as Jonathan was, just as Gabby and Andrew were.
How could they all be so blinded to Anna’s faults?
“Anna is a grown woman, Evelyn. I’m sure she doesn’t need her entire family doing battle for her.”
Evelyn studied him for a moment before sighing and leaning forward in her chair, suddenly all seriousness.
“You know, when I first met you three years ago, I had no idea who you were, yet I trusted you and trusted that you cared for Anna as much as the rest of us.”
Lucas kept his face impassive.
Cared for Anna as much as the rest of them?
He was sure that, at one time, he had cared for that woman more than anyone else in her life. And if he wasn’t careful, he could make the mistake of caring for her again. And so he clung to his anger until it cooled and solidified into an immovable mass right round his heart.
He didn’t care any longer. He couldn’t afford to.
“But now, well, you seem so hostile, Lucas, as though you hate her.”
Lucas remained steadfastly silent.
“Anna doesn’t deserve to be treated with anything less than kindness,” Evelyn said now, her tone firm and brooking no argument.
And Lucas felt a sudden fury.
“You have no idea what cruelty she’s capable of, Evelyn. And you should not involve yourself in things you do not understand.”
Evelyn blinked in surprise. His tone was certainly sharper than any he’d ever used with her before. But before she’d just been Evelyn, a lady whom he had admired and liked. Now, she was Anna’s cousin, defending the indefensible.
He expected Evelyn to rail against him, demand an apology, or even furiously defend Anna.
But to his surprise, she merely inclined her head and stood up.
“Well, that’s me put in my place,” she said, but her smile took any sting out of her words, and Lucas didn’t think she was offended by what he had said, or by his tone.
“You are right, of course, I should not be interfering. However,” she continued, her tone once again edging toward hard, “I love Anna. She showed kindness to me when nobody else would, apart from Jonathan, and whatever she might have done in her youth to upset you so, believe me, her life has been punishment enough.”
Lucas didn’t quite know what to say, so he stayed quiet. The fact was he didn’t like to imagine Anna’s life with her now-deceased husband. Much as she had hurt him, the thought of her suffering hurt him more.
“She will not tell me what happened between the two of you, and I am sure you will not either,” Evelyn said gently. “But I know from bitter experience, Lucas, that things are not always what you assume them to be. If Anna has wronged you, I am quite certain it wasn’t on purpose and was likely not her doing at all.”
How wrong Evelyn was.
Of course it had been Anna’s doing.
It had been Anna’s father, his pathetic little partner in crime Peter Grant, and his cronies who had come to warn him off. It had been Peter Grant and his cronies who had beaten him to a pulp at her say so. And it had been they who had returned the letters he’d written to Anna, the written promises he’d made, and the declarations of his youthful love.
But he wasn’t willing to discuss his wretched past. Not with Evelyn, not with anyone.
“This really is no place for a lady to be alone, Evelyn. Let me escort you to your carriage.”
Evelyn raised a brow but smiled once again.
“What a polite way to throw me out,” she quipped, but she preceded him out the door nonetheless.
“You know, I’m terribly tenacious,” she said casually. “If I decide not to leave for the estate tomorrow, and instead stay in Town, I could come and visit you every day.”
She stopped and turned to face him, a gimlet look in her eyes. “Every. Single. Day.”
Lucas supressed a grin. The woman was a bloody nuisance. How does Andrew put up with her?
“I’m sure that would be lovely,” he said insincerely. “However, I myself am leaving, and so there would be little point.”
They made their way outside, both of them blinking in the fierce sunshine.
“You are?” she asked, as the waiting footman scrambled to open the carriage door and lower the steps.
“Indeed,” Lucas answered easily.
There was little point in making a secret of it now, he thought. Everyone in the ton would know about it by week’s end.
“Since I am no longer a member of His Majesty’s Navy, I am off to pastures new,” Lucas continued lightly.
Of course, the decision had been a difficult one, and it certainly wasn’t something he was taking lightly, but his tone would continue to be unconcerned and casual. Nobody needed to know about the anxiety clawing at him, or the worry that he was making a huge mistake.
And it was too late to do anything about it now, in any case.
Lucas watched in some amusement as Evelyn’s jaw dropped open.
“You—I—you— What?” she spluttered, sounding much less the Society lady now.
Lucas merely smiled.
“How?” she demanded. “Why? What will you do? Does Gabby know?”
Lucas allowed himself a soft chuckle.
He didn’t think he’d enjoy telling people quite so much, but this was rather amusing.
“How?” he repeated. “I retired. Why? Because as much as I have enjoyed serving my country, it is time to move on to bigger and more selfish things. What will I do? Sail, of course. But for my own benefit. Does Gabby know?” Here he allowed himself a grin. “No, but I am sure she will as soon as you return home.”
Evelyn had the grace to blush. “I shan’t tell if you do not wish me to,” she muttered.
“I do not mind, Evelyn. Everyone will know soon enough.”
“But how soon? This is all so sudden.”
Lucas frowned at Evelyn’s distress. He was fond of her, and, obviously, she him, but he wasn’t expecting such a level of disappointment.
“Though I am flattered, I admit I am surprised at how badly you are taking the news,” he confessed.
The footman looked as though he were growing restless waiting for his mistress to move into the carriage.
“Well, it’s just that Andrew and I are leaving tomorrow, and Gabby and Jonathan will be going on their honeymoon tour, and I had hoped—”
Just as quickly as his mood had improved, it plummeted once more.
Anna.
“You hoped what?” he asked grimly.
Evelyn had the grace to look embarrassed, which was something he supposed.
“Well, Anna is quite alone nowadays, and she has declined the offer to come with us and so…”
She allowed her voice to trail off, but he knew what she was getting at.
He wasn’t about to play nursemaid to Anna Grant.
Before he could tell her so, however, she spoke again.
“Will you join Andrew and me for dinner tomorrow evening, Lucas? I should like to hear more of your plans, and we can call it a sort of bon voyage party.”
Lucas frowned, immediately suspicious.
“Nothing grand, I promise,” she quickly assured him. “Just a small, intimate dinner.”
“You are leaving tomorrow,” he reminded her. “As are Jonathan and Gabby.”
Evelyn snorted in a most unladylike fashion. But then, this was the woman who had held up her own uncle’s carriage, so ladylike wasn’t terribly high on her list of priorities.
“That can be delayed,” she said, waving a hand in dismissal of his objections.
“Don’t Jonathan and Gabrielle have passage on a ship?”
“Yes, but nothing that cannot be rearranged,” she insisted. “Besides, do you really think Gabrielle will go anywhere without interrogating you when she finds out your plans?”
Lucas groaned in frustration, only half-jokingly. He
had known that once word got out, the floodgates would open. But he didn’t have to look forward to it.
“All right,” he agreed unenthusiastically, though he had to admit to himself, it was nice to know that people cared enough about him to do such a thing.
Oh, he had been welcomed into the ton with open arms once the glory and money had come flooding in.
But he wasn’t foolish enough to think there was any sincerity in it. The ton was as fickle as it was unforgiving. The same people who threw invitations to balls and soirées at him, considering it quite a coup when he accepted, the same people who threw their daughters at him in the hopes that he’d marry one, were the very ones who would turn him out into the cold should they know who his father had been, a penniless merchant.
The only reason they didn’t know is that they didn’t care enough about him to ask.
But Evelyn cared, as did Gabby. Even Jonathan seemed to be warming to him.
It seemed that the only one of the younger Spencers who was as cold and unfeeling as her peers was the one whom he would have paid any price to have given a damn.
“Excellent.” Evelyn’s smile was victorious. “I shall send round the details later. Now, I really must be going before Andrew tracks me down.”
“I thought you didn’t care,” Lucas teased.
“I don’t,” Evelyn sniffed, “but pretending to is so tiresome.”
Lucas couldn’t help but laugh as the footman helped Evelyn climb into the vehicle and shut the door.
How nice it would have been to belong to such a family, he caught himself thinking, before he ruthlessly pushed the thought aside.
It was no good wishing for what you couldn’t have. If loving Anna Spencer had taught him anything, it was that.
CHAPTER THREE
ANNA’S FINGERS SHOOK uncontrollably as she passed pins to her abigail who was currently dressing her hair.
For heaven’s sake, Anna, she scolded herself, you must get a hold of yourself.
When Evelyn had burst into her home yesterday almost bouncing with excitement, Anna had been first alarmed then suspicious.
She knew enough of the real Evelyn now, the one her cousin had kept hidden from them all for years playing at being a mouse, to know that level of excitement would either be wonderful or dangerous.
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