Lucy Lane and the Lieutenant. Helen DicksonЧитать онлайн книгу.
draining away. How could she have deluded herself into believing she could sway him from his purpose? Not once since she’d met him had she ever emerged the victor in any conflict with him.
Drawing a ragged breath, she turned from him, passing cool fingertips across her burning eyelids. She was tired, so very tired of trying to find work, tired of being turned away from one theatre after another. She would miss her work and she worried so much about money and how she was going to pay her creditors. She couldn’t even pay her immediate bills. And how was she to care for her aunt?
But she could not do as he asked—could she?
Folding her arms across her chest, she turned and looked at Nathan.
Nathan saw her struggling with indecision. ‘Do say yes, Lucy,’ he said in a quiet voice.
Perhaps it was the use of her name. Perhaps it was the change in his tone. She thought for a moment, then said, ‘I can’t fight you any longer. You should congratulate yourself, Nathan. You have outmanoeuvred me. You have been very clever. It would seem you have left me with no alternative. Very well. I will work for you.’
He looked at her steadily, knowing just how difficult this was for her. ‘I cannot tell you how relieved I am to hear you say that.’
‘I am sure you are. However, there are conditions you must adhere to. Ground rules must be established between us.’
‘Which are?’
‘That whatever there was between us in the past is over and done with. What you have just said will not be repeated. We are two different people. If this new arrangement is to succeed, you will not try to initiate any kind of intimacy. We must be careful to keep the two strands of our lives from becoming tangled. You have to promise me this otherwise I will not go with you. If I do, I will do my best not to let you down. I will be singularly focused and our future relationship must be a working one if I am to succeed in the mission I am to be presented with.’
He looked at her long and hard for a moment, then he said, ‘The past is a part of everyone, Lucy, and I know I will never be entirely free of my own. But you have my word. A working relationship it will be.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Now you have agreed to co-operate we have much to discuss.’
‘I expect we have. How long do I have before we go to Portugal?’
‘Two weeks at the most.’
Her heart flipped over. She had hoped for more time. ‘As little as that?’
‘I’m afraid so. You can ride?’
‘I can, but I haven’t for a while.’
‘Have you ever fired a pistol?’
She shook her head. ‘Will I have to?’
‘Maybe. I will try to teach you the basics before we leave.’
‘And Aunt Dora? She will be against my going. Provision must be made in—in case something happens to me.’
‘I promise that will all be taken care of before we leave.’
‘I would appreciate that. I’ve already decided to give up this house. Polly can go and live with Aunt Dora. One consolation is that Sarah looks after her as attentively as if she were her own mother. I’m sure she will appreciate another pair of hands to help her care for my aunt.’ She looked at Nathan as a more pressing issue occurred to her. ‘Another thing I feel I must mention is the outstanding bills. I would appreciate it if, perhaps, you could see your way to settling that particular problem.’
‘Leave it with me.’ Now he’d accomplished what he’d set out to achieve there was no time to lose. ‘I’ll leave you now,’ he said, striding to the door. ‘I’ll be back in the morning at eight o’clock. Your training will begin immediately. Get a good night’s sleep. You’re going to need it.’
* * *
As it got closer to the time when Nathan was to arrive, Lucy found she was becoming more and more nervous, which was ridiculous, considering she had been running her own affairs for over four years and making her own decisions. What was happening to her life? It seemed to be spiralling out of control. Everything was happening too fast.
More immediate was the problem of what she was going to wear. She rushed upstairs and surveyed her wardrobe. When she was ready she went down to the parlour and sat at her desk to wait, making a list of all the things she had to take care of before she left for Portugal.
Eventually her mind began to wander and she began thinking about Nathan. She knew he had been in Spain and that he had been wounded. There was so much more she would like to know. Was he married? Had he married Katherine? It seemed likely since she, too, had gone to Spain. But Lucy would not ask. The reason she was doing this was because, for some peculiar reason, only she could help him in his mission to do whatever it was—and because he had left her with no choice. But most of all she was doing it for the money.
But, she asked herself, finding it difficult to be honest with herself, to examine her feelings where Nathan was concerned. Was it solely for the money that she had agreed to go to Portugal with him, or was the temptation to be close to him once more just too hard for her to resist?
For so long she had tried not to think about him, burying her head in the pillows at night to muffle her sobs at the memory of those last loving times she’d had with him before he’d become distant, as if he had other, more important things on his mind. Of late these recollections were so real, so vivid. Like a storm they would not be halted, the crucifying memories crept inexorably back, back to that time when they had first met.
It had been a summer’s evening at a party given by a mutual friend. They’d met often after that and courted openly. She remembered the first time they had made love. Having walked into the countryside, they had lingered in a barn full of sweet-smelling hay and it had been so wonderful when he had kissed her, when he had held her in his arms, desiring her as much as she desired him. All their hitherto cautions and restrained behaviour had been swept away in a tide of wanting and she lost her virginity eagerly.
Hearing a knock on the outside door, giving herself a mental shake she set the pen aside and stood up. Adjusting the elbow-length sleeves and smoothing her skirt with the palms of her hands, she smiled. It was a pretty dress, pink and white sprigged with pretty flounces around the hem and with a modestly low bodice. She felt a nervous anticipation as she waited for Polly to show Nathan in.
He strode into the room, carrying a parcel beneath his arm. He was wearing a tan jacket and white-silk neckcloth, buckskin riding breeches and gleaming brown-leather boots. His dark hair was ruffled and fell over the top of the scar that ran beside his left eye to his cheek. It gave him a sardonic, mocking look when his face was in repose. Only laughter or a smile softened the rigour of the scar.
Despite this he was devilishly attractive to look at. Lucy’s pulse raced. She was unsure as to the cause—her handsome riding instructor or her fear of what was in store. He stopped a couple of yards in front of her, gazing at her with a half smile curling on his lips.
‘Are you ready to begin your training?’
‘As ready as I’ll ever be.’
His eyes passed over her. He shook his head. ‘That won’t do. Here,’ he said, handing her the parcel.
Lucy took it and set it down on the table in front of the sofa. ‘What is it?’
‘Open it.’
Totally bewildered, she did as he asked. Dumbfounded, she stared at the contents, holding them up.
‘You would deck me out in these? But—I can’t possibly. Why, they’re indecent and inappropriate.’
He laughed. ‘You don’t know the difficulty I had getting these made for you. Every tailor thought me mad when I described what I wanted and no one believed that I desired to put them on a woman. I had to pay a goodly sum to have them made.’