In The Dark With You Book 2 Walking Towards the Light Alexandra Marell
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In The Dark With You Book 2 Walking Towards the Light Alexandra Marell
Copyright © 2007 Alexandra Marell All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior written consent of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. The right of Alexandra Marell to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. First posted online as a Buffy Spike fanfiction under the name Moxie And as an original fiction story on Fiction Press This edition Alinar Publishing 2007
All characters in this publication are purely fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Edited by Anne Mcraw Proofread by Jane Belfield Cover by Maria Morpeth
In The Dark With You, Book 2 – Alexandra Marell
Author’s note. This story was my first attempt at novel writing and was first posted online as a serial – hence the length. The story begins in In the Dark With You, Book 1, available as a free read on the Alinar Yahoo Forums, and continues here in book 2. I decided to split the story into two books for ease of download. If you’d like to find out what happened after Alicia left the Lucius mansion, then read on… Chapter 26 “Wendy?” “Dana! What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in Bath.” Wendy extended her arms, frowning slightly at the way Dana hobbled towards her. “And what on Earth have you done to yourself?” “Oh, it's a long story, Wendy. Are you here for a reason? Has Lissa returned?” “No, she hasn’t. I'm so sorry, Dana.” Wendy embraced her younger cousin warmly, then helped her to a chair. “I'm here visiting your mama.” “And how is she?” Dana regarded her anxiously, hoping against hope that her mother would be in better spirits.
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“No better, I'm afraid. She keeps asking me to fetch Alicia from her room, and she's still embroidering pillow slips for the wedding. I've just seen her up to bed.” Dana's heart sank. There would be no hope of returning to Bath with Aunt Joan now. Her father would probably make her stay to look after her mother – a task she did not relish one bit. “Aunt Joan thinks she may have news.” At this, Wendy's face lit up. “Really? I've missed Alicia so much. It was bad enough that she went to America for four years, and now to disappear again so soon. Where is Aunt Joan? I must talk to her.” “I’m here, my dear.” Aunt Joan folded Wendy in a hug. “How are you?” she asked, a sympathetic smile on her lips. “Not planning on gallivanting off too, are you?” “Of course not. That is more your style, Aunt. And Alicia's too, it would seem. Do you have news for us?” Aunt Joan chuckled. “Unfortunately, it appears that at least one Stanton girl has taken after me, if not both of them.” She stripped off her travelling gloves and gave them to the waiting servant. “Dana was in no fit state to travel, but there would be no peace until we were back in Devon. So here we are. And yes, Wendy, I have a feeling that I know where your cousin is. I need to talk with my brother and then I will be going on to Shell Bay House.” She raised a hand as both Dana and Wendy opened their mouths to speak. “No more now, it has been a long, tiring journey, and we both need to rest. Visit me soon, Wendy, and I will let you know what I've found out. Goodnight, my dear.” 2
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Wendy kissed her aunt goodbye, then stooped to kiss Dana. “Don't worry, Dana. If anyone can find Alicia, it will be Aunt Joan. And they say Crosbie is quite recovered from his unfortunate accident. Poor Alicia, that must have been such a shock for her. I wonder if perhaps she thought she would be blamed in some way?” “Perhaps.” Dana thought about it for a moment. “But it doesn't make any sense. I thought she really wanted to marry him, she was so excited a the prospect.” “She was, at first. But then… I don't know how to explain this to you.” Wendy hesitated. “She discovered Crosbie wasn't the man she thought him to be and asked me to help her run away.” “Oh Wendy, you didn’t, did you?” Dana's eyes were wide with shock now. “So you know where she went?” Wendy shook her head sadly. “I would have helped her, but I didn't get the chance. All I know is that she talked about going to Plymouth.” Dana's heart sank even farther. “Plymouth? Isn't Plymouth full of sailors? Do you think something might have happened to her? It's been such a long time.” “I hope not. We must put our faith in Aunt Joan, but I have to say that, even if she does find her, I fear that Alicia will not want to return. She really doesn't want to marry Crosbie and I hear that he still wants her back. It’s rather…complicated.”
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“Oh dear. You must tell me, Wendy. Why didn't she want to marry him?” “I can't say any more. Aunt Joan will not make Alicia return if she doesn't want to.” She glanced at the clock on the mantel and picked up her shawl from the chair. “I must be going now…” Before she could finish, the drawing room door opened slowly, and the very last person they expected to see walked in and stood silently in front of them. Dana let out a small scream and Wendy just stood, glued to the spot as they both surveyed the weary figure of Alicia Stanton drop into an armchair in front of them and cover her face with her hands. **** She'd looked so sad when she'd left the bedroom. He wanted to go to her, comfort her, but the way she'd turned her back on him warned him away. So Damien lay on the bed, staring at nothing and thinking. The lovemaking had been sweet and sadly silent. He'd found his release, but didn't feel at all relaxed; only more tense and wound up. The immediate danger of Evan was gone but Lissa still wasn't sharing. Neither her experience in the barn, nor the contents of the letter, the envelope of which was in his trouser pocket. What he needed was the anger back. Anger at least spurred him on. This despair was like a lead weight, holding him in place. It seemed to have settled like a smothering blanket over the house. Although the mansion had always been a spooky place, now he was feeling it like never before. The oppressive darkness was back. Lissa’s smiles had brought sunshine into the house 4
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and Damien knew now that he could no longer live here. Even if she didn't want to go with him, he’d decided to go north. To the house in Rossendale, and a new life. His mind drifted back to the night they met. To the way he'd swept her up and just taken her away, making the decision for her. That's what he should do now. March into her bedroom and tell her she was going with him. Eventually he dragged himself from the bed and slipped back into his clothes. Pouring himself a large brandy, he drank it down in one gulp. Evan's body would need burying, and goodness knows what state Alex and Flora would be in when they woke up. He tossed off another glass, welcoming the fiery heat burning his throat. Evan was dead. It still seemed unreal. One minute he was there, walking, talking, and then suddenly he wasn't. This morning he'd been warm, living flesh and now he was lying cold and lifeless on the floor of the barn. It had all happened so fast, almost too fast for Damien to take in that he was now finally free. The man who'd made his and Alex's life such a misery could no longer touch them. He closed his eyes for a moment and waited for the brandy to take effect. With a shaking hand, he poured another. So much blood. The smell of charred flesh. Damien shuddered. It was a sight he never wanted to see again. Just a few moments, he thought, groping for the chair behind him. Just to make sense of it all, calm himself down, and another drink for courage. Bury Evan first, then go and talk to Lissa. She was going to Rossendale if he had to drag her there, he decided. A good plan – although, when he tried to stand, his legs refused to hold him. Damien looked towards the window at the rapidly fading light, and a chill rippled down his 5
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spine as he thought about the grisly scene in the barn. He'd have to drag the body to the woods in the dark and dig a hole while it lay there. Had Flora closed Evan's eyes? He couldn't remember. Despite his promise to her, he didn't want to do it. He couldn't face Evan’s shocked, lifeless face. If there'd ever been ghosts in the house, they were all around him now, reminding him of things best forgotten. His mother crying. His father, Evan and other strange faces, laughing and roaring as they staggered through the house. Hands everywhere as they groped and petted him, pushing him from one to the other. Calling him a pretty little boy. Someone dangling him from the window. Soft hands and a soothing voice telling him something he didn't yet understand. He hadn't really known his parents. All he had of them were vague memories and flashes of pictures and sounds. But sometimes it felt as if they were right here with him, dragging him back. Past. It was all in the past. And they were just ghosts. They couldn't hurt him, not any more. He wasn’t going to let them. Damien rose from the chair, swayed and steadied himself on the edge of his desk. Find Lissa, hold on to her and never let her go. That's all that was important right now. If he could do that, everything else would fall into place. She wasn't in her room. As he looked around, wondering where she might be, his gaze fell upon the envelope lying propped against her pillow. He didn't have to read it. Without a second thought he was running down the 6
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stairs, taking them two at a time, flinging wide the front door and calling her name into the darkness. He ran, and kept on running until he reached the large, ornate gate that marked the entrance to the estate. With his hands on the bars he stared into the night and knew that she’d gone. No, he thought. No, I am not letting this happen. She is not going back to him. And there it was. Not exactly anger, he thought, bending over to catch his breath, but at least he was feeling now. Enough that he could get up and do something positive. Kill Crosbie himself if he had to; Lissa certainly wasn't marrying him. Not if he had anything to do with it. They'd come too far for him to simply give up. He made his way back to the house, a little light-headed from the run and the effects of the brandy. The unfamiliar façade of the house came into view as he trudged back along the drive, the soft night air restoring him a little. A view he'd rarely seen, the whole house outlined against the darkened sky. Bathed in moonlight, it looked enormous, and it was all his. He was a wealthy man, and wealth carried with it power. He could use that power to get the things he wanted in life. That's how it normally worked. Use it to set Lissa free from Crosbie. He hoped she would choose to go north with him, but if not? He’d need to be strong and let her walk whatever path she chose. The house had always been a very quiet place, but tonight there seemed to be an extra stillness in the air. As if the living, and perhaps even the dead, were all holding their breath and waiting. Damien let himself back in and locked the door. He made his way to the kitchen, where he found himself something to eat and 7
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drink, because he hadn't had anything all day. The letter was still upstairs, on Lissa’s bed, and now he could read it with a clearer head. Whatever it said, it made no difference. He'd already decided what needed to be done. **** “Leave her alone, Harold. Can you not see how distressed she is?” Aunt Joan fended off Lissa's father as he continued with his incessant questioning. He'd done nothing but shout at his daughter since she’d come back, and now she was so weary she could hardly make out what he was saying. Her aunt stood between them, trying vainly to calm her agitated brother. Lissa could see that Aunt Joan was fighting a losing battle. All Mr Stanton’s frustration and rage had come pouring out in one long tirade that had started from the moment he’d realised that his errant daughter had returned, and was looking as if it would never end. Wendy and Dana had been ordered out, but her aunt had refused to leave, and for that Alicia was grateful. She closed her eyes in the hope that if she didn't have to look at her father’s florid face then it wouldn't sound quite so bad. Everything was so loud here, so many people talking all at once. And, it seemed, all to her. Asking questions, demanding to know where she'd been, how she was. Patting her and stroking her. Insisting she drink a cup of hot tea. Didn't they know that all she wanted was to be left alone? Dana and Wendy had nearly hugged her to death. Her father looked as if he wanted to beat her to death. And 8
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her mother had appeared, calmly asked her what kind of flowers she would be choosing for the wedding bouquet, then left, saying she would pick them now. Only Aunt Joan seemed to realise that what she needed most was peace and quiet. This transition back to the outside world had been a nightmare. As her father droned on at her, Alicia's mind drifted back to her first morning at the Lucius mansion, remembering how quiet it had seemed and how accustomed she'd become to the calm of the place. She opened her eyes to find him still there, and Aunt Joan now tugging at her hand. “That is it. I am taking her to Shell Bay House with me. Come along, Alicia, you may stay with me until we find a solution to this.” Alicia rose and let herself be taken over by her aunt, who always seemed to know what to do. To go through with this marriage to Crosbie she needed to get herself to a place where she could at least accept it. That would never happen if her father continued with these accusations and threats. “If you carry on like this you will only frighten her into running away again. Will you please be quiet!” It was Aunt Joan's I will not be disobeyed voice and Alicia was aware of her father backing down a little. At least he'd stopped shouting. “You always were an interfering old biddy, he said resentfully. “You have no right to take her, Joan; anyone would think that she was your daughter.”
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“Stop snivelling, Harold. I've never liked that habit. Alicia is coming with me, and when we are all calm we will sit down and talk about this rationally, and without shouting. I can't abide men who shout.” Alicia felt her aunt's arm around her and she was gently ushered towards the door. Her father was still talking, taking on the petulant, whining tone he always did when engaged in an argument with his sister. “What am I to tell Crosbie? He is bound to hear of this.” Aunt Joan opened her mouth to reply but Alicia stepped in first. She only managed a small voice. Words needed saying. It was why she'd come back, after all. “Tell him I received his message, and I understand perfectly. He has only to set the date.” Her father was so surprised that he took three steps backwards and bumped into a side table. Her aunt kept her composure well, although Alicia saw the look of mild shock flicker across her face. Aunt Joan glared at her brother one last time. “Remember, I can call in that loan at any time, Harold. Alicia will not be forced to do anything she does not wish to do voluntarily.” Alicia could see that her father’s mind had already jumped to the logical conclusion of what she'd just told him. He straightened his jacket, rubbed his hands together and patted her on the shoulder. “I think you should visit with your aunt for a while. I need to get in touch with your fiancé and tell him the 10
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good news. He has been most anxious about you, Alicia.” And then, as if to add to the surreal nature of the evening, her mother swept in, clad only in her nightgown and carrying the embroidered pillow slips she’d been working on. “So,” she declared, holding up the embroidery ring. “Would you prefer roses or marigolds on these? It really doesn't matter to me; I have enough thread. But I think roses are so pretty.” Mrs Stanton raised an expectant face to her daughter, who stood in front of her thinking that everything was as if she'd never left, and her weeks at the Lucius mansion, and Damien, Flora, Alex and Evan, had been nothing but a dream. **** It was the first time Damien could ever remember the range being cold. Strangely symbolic. A sign that it really was time to leave this place. Damien yawned and looked around, realising that he must have fallen asleep at the kitchen table after he'd eaten. Stretching out the stiffness in his limbs, he rose and thought he ought to go and look for the deeds to his properties in the north of England. They should still be in his father's study, if Evan hadn't taken them. And they needed to do something about Evan's body. The law was unlikely to catch up with them here, but there was no sense in taking any chances. No one would ever understand why Alex had acted the way he did.
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Alex was in the hall, still covered in splashes of blood and looking tired and dishevelled. “Is she gone?” Damien nodded, wondering how Alex knew about that. “She's gone back to' im, 'asn't she.” “I don't know. Has she?” When Alex turned for the kitchen, Damien followed him, trying desperately to swallow down the anger that his foster brother’s comment had stirred in him. Store it up for Crosbie, he thought. Alex doesn't need this now. “You knew she was going? “Why didn't you stop her? Or even better, tell me?” Alex threw himself into Flora's rocking chair and tipped back his head. Closing his eyes. he let out a small groan. “God's blood, that laudanum is 'orrible stuff, my 'ead is splitting in two.” He opened his eyes again and looked levelly at Damien. “She told me after she gave me the laudanum. She's not stupid. And 'ow could I 'ave stopped 'er anyway? Lissa does what she wants, you know that.” Damien folded his arms, his jaw clenched. That much was true, but they were helping her anyway. Whether she wanted them to or not. “What was in the letter Evan gave her?”
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“Crosbie said ‘e was marrying 'er sister unless she went back to him. 'Ave you buried 'im?” “My God.” Damien's first reaction to Alex’ s news was, strangely, one of pride. Just like Lissa to give everything up for the ones she loved. She'd put herself in danger protecting him from Evan, and now this for Dana. The feeling was quickly replaced by annoyance that Alex knew this before him. Again, he controlled it, his hatred of Crosbie growing by the moment. “No, I haven't buried him.” “Then I'll do it.” Alex rose from the chair and moved over to the sink, where he worked at the pump to splash his face and hair with water. “I killed 'im, I'll bury 'im. Better do it before Mother gets up. 'Ow was she?” Damien shrugged his shoulders. “I don't know. Shocked, hysterical. I think she loved him.” The distraught expression returned to Alex's face momentarily. He shook it off. “Don't suppose she'll ever speak to me again.” “Give her time, Alex. Everyone's in shock right now.” “Aye.” Alex finished slicking back his hair, then walked towards the kitchen door. As he swung it open Damien could see him breathing hard, steeling himself for the task. Regardless of how much he didn’t want to help with the grisly task, it didn't seem fair to leave it all to Alex. He'd killed Evan for all of them. “Hold on, I'll help you.” 13
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“Don't be daft, Damien. What about the sun?” “I'll cover up.” Damien snatched the old gardening coat hanging on the row of pegs near the door and draped it over his head. “We'll do it in the woods, in the shade. Let me help you.” Alex looked at him for a few seconds, then a ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “All right, come on. But you look mighty silly.” Damien followed him down the steps, aware that Flora had just come into the kitchen and glad not to have to face her just now. “Do you know, Alex, I really don't care. This isn't about us any more, it's about Lissa. And Dana,” he added. “I'll get the guns ready, then.” “We'll do what we have to do.” They both slowed as they approached the barn. “What if 'e’s not there?” “Stop it, Alex. Of course he'll be there.” “Reckon 'e 'ad the Devil coming for 'im. Like you father did. Did you know who 'e was? Evan, I mean.” “I've guessed he was part of the family. Am I right?” Damien dropped the coat and cautiously followed Alex into the barn, relieved to see Evan's body outlined at the far end. Alex could spin a very bizarre tale when he wanted to. He thought back to the night Alex had 14
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mistaken Lissa for a vampire. It reminded him why they were doing this. “Your father's half-brother. Bastard, of course.” “So that makes you one of us.” “S'pose so. Don't know as I like that.” “You can't choose your family, Alex. Come on, let's do this.” **** “Ahh, Jonathan. Prepare the small carriage, I need to make a call this afternoon.” “As you wish, ma'am. May I be enquiring as to the destination?” “You may, Jonathan.” Aunt Joan turned to her coachman, a mischievous gleam in her eye. “How strong are your nerves?” “My nerves, ma'am?” “Yes Jonathan, your nerves.” She opened the drawer of her desk and drew out a supply of her Devon calling cards. “I really must get some new cards; these are so old fashioned,” she muttered. Then she rose and made her way to the window, pulling back the curtain. Alicia was seated on a bench in the rose garden, her expression much the same as it had been since they’d arrived at Shell Bay House. Sadness mixed with resignation. Her niece still wouldn't say why she was so adamant to go through with a wedding that she so obviously didn't want. 15
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Aunt Joan let the curtain drop. “The Lucius mansion. What do you know of it?” She turned back to her coachman, noticing that his face had blanched considerably. “Strange tales, ma'am. Don't know as they're true. Everyone's heard the stories.” “Of the Devil and vampires?” “Yes, ma'am. You don't mean to…” She watched his discomfort with considerable amusement as it dawned on him just who they were visiting. “Yes, Jonathan, it seems that we are finally going to find out if those legends are true. How do you think I should dress to visit a vampire?” Jonathan's eyes became impossibly wide as he hastily mumbled his excuses, and fled to the coach house. Aunt Joan laughed after him, her expression turning serious. She'd never really taken the Lucius legend lightly, and just the mention of the house was enough to inspire fear in the stoutest of hearts. But, if her theory were correct, that was where Alicia had been hiding these past few weeks. And the only way to test that theory was to go there herself and ask. **** “You got ‘is key, then?”
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Damien felt in his pocket. “Blast, it's in the coat.I'll go and get it.” Before he could turn there was a loud thud and the sharp crack of splintering wood. “No need.”Alex kicked again at his father’s bedroom door. This time the lock gave and it flew open. “Shall we?” “I could have fetched the key.” “More fun this way. Where do you think 'e keeps it?” “The money?” Damien said, stepping into the room. “The wardrobe, perhaps? Look in there. I'll go through the desk.” “What if there isn't any?” “There has to be. I found property deeds in my father's desk. I own a house and four cotton mills in the north of England, Alex, and they must be making a profit. I've never seen any of it, so it's got to be somewhere. Keep looking.” “Right.” Alex disappeared into the vast wardrobe and started throwing out the clothes. “You going to pay Crosbie off, then?” “I don't know.” Papers fluttered to the floor as Damien sorted through the desk drawers, frowning at the bills and official-looking notes. Some covered with stamps and seals looked important. He set them carefully aside. “It might not be that simple.” 17
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“Told you. We get the guns and just go and fetch 'er.” “And how far do you think you'd get with that plan? Damn, there's nothing here. Could the money be in a bank, perhaps? What does it even look like?” “Be fun, though, to see Crosbie’s face.” Alex re-appeared from the depths of the wardrobe. “Nothing 'ere, either.” “There has to be. I can't believe Evan didn't keep some of it here. Look again, under the bed, everywhere. We'll take this room to pieces if we must.” Something caught his eye on the floor near to the bed. “What's that?” “What?” Alex joined him. “Loose floorboard?” “Just there, under the bed.” They both dropped to their knees, Damien hooked his fingers under the loose board and pulled at it. It came away easily, and the sight that met his eyes caused him to sit back on his heels and let out a long breath. “Goodness!” “Think we've found it.” Alex let out an explosive laugh. “I think we have. Some of it, anyway. I've never seen anything like this.” Damien reached out and picked up a handful of the gold coins filling the void under the floorboard. Weighing them in his hand, he held them aloft and let them drop through his fingers, remembering the games they'd 18
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played as children. Pirate's treasure – only where that had been pure imagination, this was real. He could feel the power in the heavy, shiny metal as he buried his hand into the considerable pile. Crosbie could have it all; Damien didn't care, as long as the man gave up his claim to Lissa and Dana. Dana would have to go with them too, he decided. Lissa's father was a greedy man. He'd be easily bought. Lissa would always be vulnerable if they left Dana behind. “We're going to win this one, Alex. This is our ticket away from this place.” He replaced the floorboard and straightened up. “We'll find the girls and go to Rossendale. I need to get a lawyer to sort through all these papers, find out what they all mean.” Alex pulled himself up too, screwing his heel down onto the floorboard to push it firmly back into place. “Girls?” “We'll have to take Dana too. Crosbie will always have her to hold over Lissa if we leave her behind.” “What if she don't want to come?” “Lissa will have to persuade her.” “I'll get the guns.” Damien looked down at his blood-smeared shirt and his stomach lurched as he remembered how they'd carried Evan into the woods and buried him. “We can't just march in and shoot Crosbie.”
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“Why not?” Alex said, following him to the stairs. “I'd do it.” “No, you wouldn't. You're not a murderer.” “What am I, then?” “It was a crime of passion. You acted under great provocation and you did it for all of us. That's entirely different from killing someone in cold blood. Do you understand what I'm saying?” Alex shook his head and gave a small laugh. “You've got some fancy talk on you sometimes. Killing is killing.” “And you're not as stupid as you make out. What you did, it will change you, just as it changed Lissa. Did you know she thought she'd killed someone?” “Yes.” “Christ, was there anything she didn't tell you?” They reached the grand staircase and began to descend. “No need to bite me 'ead off. Not my fault if she wanted to tell me things, 'cos God-knows you never talk to me. Nobody ever talks to me unless they're shouting orders or insulting me.” “I don't talk to you because you never talk to me.” “I'm talking to you now, ain't? I?” “This isn't talking. This is arguing.” “No, it's not.” 20
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“Yes, it is, Alex. You wouldn't know how to start a sensible conversation.” “I bloody well would.” “Go on then, open up a topic of conversation and I'll discuss it with you. See how far we get.” They were at the bottom of the stairs now, turning into the corridor for the kitchen. “All right, then. What's it like?” “What's what like?” “You know, being in bed with a woman. What's it like?” “I am not telling you about that.” “See, you won't talk to me.” “A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell, Alex. My God, what was that?” The two of them nearly jumped clean out of their skins as they stood for a moment, taking in the sound. Turning slowly towards the front door, they both stared at it, dumbstruck by the sound of the great doorknocker banging against it. Another great boom as the sound echoed around the great hallway and Flora came running out of the kitchen, wiping her face with her apron. A visitor. He'd never had a visitor before. Who the hell would want to call on him? 21
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Damien's mind raced through the possibilities, dismissing Lissa as soon as he'd thought of her. She wouldn't knock, or use the front door. The law? It couldn't be. When he looked at Alex he could see that he'd had the same thought. He caught hold of Alex's shirt as he turned for the kitchen. “It can't be, Alex. Nobody knows what happened. Lissa would never have told anyone. We mustn't panic.” Alex took several deep breaths in an effort to control himself. “I know, I know. I'll be back 'ere if you need me.” He shrank against the corridor wall, watching Damien stare dubiously at the door. “You going to answer it?” The knocking sounded again, then a man's voice was calling hello. This day couldn't get any stranger. Damien walked reluctantly towards the door and slid back the bolts, wondering all the while who he would find on the other side. Then the bizarre thought that it might be Evan risen from the dead popped into his mind and he hesitated. Don't be stupid, he chastised himself. Evan was in his grave, and there he would stay, but who the hell was this? He opened the door very slowly, peering round it, to be met by the sight of a very short man wearing an over-large coachman's coat. Relief flooded through him when he saw that it was a flesh-and-blood living person who, for some reason, wanted to visit this place. Maybe someone was lost and needed directions, he thought, 22
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opening the door wide so the man could see Alex and Flora, who'd both crept up behind him now, as well as himself. He was just thinking of a suitable greeting when the man looked from him to Alex, then gave a shriek of terror and turned around to run for all he was worth towards the carriage that Damien now saw was parked on the drive. He could only make out one word as the man showed him a clean pair of heels and started to climb back into the driver's seat. “Vampires!” **** Emptiness. It felt as if every emotion had physically drained from her body, leaving her numb. When she saw him approach, limping down the gravel path, leaning on his cane, she couldn't even summon up the energy to feel the revulsion that she should surely have. She watched him wave away his serving man and continue towards her. Neither of them smiled. “Alicia.” “Crosbie.” “You're looking tired.” “I am.” He sat himself carefully beside her, putting down his cane and stripping off his gloves. 23
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“So you're back.” “Did you leave me a choice?” He contemplated her for a moment. “Where have you been, Alicia? I've had the best detectives looking for you.” “He didn't tell you, then?” “Evan. No, he kept it very close. More money, you see.” “It is most improper having you visit while my aunt is away.” “Would you have refused me, knowing your baby sister is at home? Such a pretty girl, too.” “Stop it, Crosbie.” She found it then. Some feeling at last. At least she could feel for Dana, if not for herself. “There is no need of this. I will marry you if you will promise to leave Dana alone. You have my word.” She raised her chin and gazed at him calmly, realising she didn't fear him any more. This she was doing out of strength, not weakness. Leaving Damien was the hardest thing she'd ever had to do, so nothing else in her life could ever be as bad. It was a small consolation. “Do I have yours?” “My word? Would you believe it if I gave it?” Alicia dropped her gaze so she wouldn't have to see the self-satisfied look of a man who was enjoying his victory just a little too much. Picking at the fabric of her dress, she thought how different it was to the beautiful Regency gowns she'd become accustomed to wearing. A few spots of rain dropped lightly onto the material and 24
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she watched them spread and join up as it started to rain in earnest. “You must promise me, Crosbie. And know this. I am not the same girl who ran away from you; I've changed in more ways than you can imagine. And if I catch you anywhere near Dana, I will finish the job this time. Make no mistake of it.” “Interesting. I look forward to finding out just how you've changed, my dear. Now fetch me my stick, we must go indoors or we will catch a chill in this rain.” “Fetch it yourself.” Alicia tried to get up. Crosbie grabbed at her dress, stopping her. “Come now, where's my dutiful fiancée? Fetch me my stick, my love.” She glared at him for a moment, then picked up the stick and jammed it into his hand. “I can’t understand why you should still want to marry me. We're not going to make each other happy. This is just perverse.” As she stood before him Alicia wondered if she should just kill him, as she’d threatened. There were guns in the house. All she had to do was what Alex had done to Evan. It was almost worth hanging for. Crosbie hauled himself up and she noticed for the first time how his face had altered after his injury; one side drooped slightly now. He caught her looking and his expression darkened.
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“You need to be punished, Alicia, and as my wife the law will allow me to do that. See what you did to me. I am not so much the catch any more.” All she could do was run, but this time there wasn't anywhere to go. From now on, everywhere she went, he'd be there. Crosbie called after her as she ran for the house. “You can't escape me.” She kept on running until she was in her bedroom, slamming the door in the surprised servant's face. She would get through this. She would. All she had to do was endure, and remember her time with Damien. Memories that would keep her going and see her through. Memories of happy times, Crosbie couldn't take those away from her. But when she pictured Damien's face, all it did was make her cry. **** Damien watched the coach execute a sharp turn on the gravel drive. He caught a glimpse of the woman inside, a look of considerable surprise on her face, then one of the horses shied and reared up, causing the carriage to tilt dangerously. There was a shower of gravel as the coachman fought for control and Damien didn’t think twice before running towards the carriage, closely followed by Alex. “Mind their feet,” Alex cautioned him, lunging for the bridle of the frightened horse and hanging on for grim death. 26
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Damien went for the other and did the same while the coachman brought them to a halt, his face still carrying a terrified expression. When Damien was sure the animals were under control he ducked back into the cover of the porch. The door of the carriage swung open before the coachman could get down, and an attractive, middleaged woman peered around it. Alex continued to calm the horses and the coachman scrabbled down to help her, opening an umbrella to shade her from the light drizzle. Damien found himself face-to-face with an older and considerably plumper version of Lissa. He smoothed down his shirt and raked a finger through his hair, only now remembering that both he and Alex were covered in blood. That coupled with the legend - little wonder the man had thought them to be vampires. It was fittingly ironic that the only proper visitor he'd ever had should arrive today, of all days. And this could only be Aunt Joan. He'd heard a lot about her from Lissa, and as she made her way towards him his heart raced in anticipation of the news she may have brought with her. He prayed that it would be good news. He didn't know what to do. Bow, shake her hand? Flora was behind him, mumbling something, but he couldn't make it out so he extended his hand, thinking that Aunt Joan looked like a hand-shaking sort of person. “Well, that was terribly exciting.” The woman winked at him, which took him aback somewhat, until he reminded himself that she was a Stanton, and that the Stanton women quite possibly didn't represent the female 27
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population as a whole with their behaviour. She extended her own hand and shook his with a surprisingly robust grip. “And who do I have the pleasure of?” She kept hold of his hand while he scrabbled frantically to remember his own name, which at that moment escaped him entirely. “Damien.” It came to him at last. “It's Damien, madam. And you are?” Was that rude? He didn't know what the correct form was. Did one ask a lady who she was? She didn't seem to mind. In fact she seemed to be finding the whole incident extremely amusing. Shouldn't she be having a fit of the vapours or something after her adventure with the carriage? “Lady Joan Carlington.” She pulled him a little closer. “And you're supposed to bow to a woman and shake hands with a man. But I'll take it as a compliment.” She regarded him, not unkindly, as he blushed hotly at his faux pas. “Lord Rossendale?” “Where?” He'd looked round before he remembered he was Lord Rossendale. He managed a nod. “That's me. I mean, I am. Please, you must think us terribly rude, would you like to come in out of the rain?” Flora went into a frenzy of curtseying as Lady Carlington swept into the house, looking around the grand hall.
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“My, what a spooky old place.” She stopped so abruptly Damien nearly fell over her. “And this is?” “Alex, my cousin.” Damien gave Alex a push and made a small bowing movement. Alex frowned back at him, not catching his meaning. And Lady Carlington appeared to be enjoying herself immensely, not thrown one jot by being presented to two men with no social skills whatsoever, and both covered in blood. She scrutinised them once more, looking them up and down. “Well, I can see why Alicia didn't want to come home. I certainly wouldn't have. Perhaps we could have some tea?” “Of course, er.” Damien waved in the direction of the drawing room. “Please...” They all went, Flora and Alex too, following Lady Carlington to the drawing room. She settled herself down on the sofa and made a big show of smoothing down her skirts. Flora suddenly remembered she was supposed to be providing tea, and scurried away after another curtsey. “So, My Lord,” Lady Carlington began. “I have a very important question to ask you, and I demand an honest answer. I will have my curiosity satisfied.” Damien clasped his hands behind his back, hoping she wasn't going to ask what he suspected she might be about to. If she asked him to reveal the extent of his 29
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relationship with Lissa he was going to die of embarrassment right in front of her. “Don't look so worried,” she continued. “It's a simple question. I'm dying to know. Are you a vampire, or aren't you?”
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Chapter 27 “Not a vampire, eh? Pity, you have the look, you know. Pale and interesting. Of course, I knew it as soon as I set eyes on you. But, my word, you gave Jonathan a fright.” Lady Carlington appeared totally at ease as she sat in front of them, looking every bit like a queen graciously granting an audience to her subjects. “So, Alex, your country seat is where?” “Reckon I'm sitting on it.” Lady Carlington roared with laughter, causing Alex to look at Damien in a mystified manner. “But I am.” “I like you, Alex. You amuse me.” She turned her attention to Flora. “And you, my dear, are?” “Flora, M'Lady. Alex's mother and Damien's nurse.” Damien felt his cheeks heat up again at that. The notion that she should still be describing herself as his nurse was suddenly terribly humiliating. “You've done a wonderful job with them both. You must be very proud.” Flora's face fell a little. Damien saw her flick a quick glance at Alex, who was staring down at his knees and refusing to catch her eye. 31
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And he knew Lady Carlington was missing none of it. Engaging and light-hearted as the conversation was, he could tell she was appraising them all. If only he'd had the chance to change before she'd arrived. “I was at the Battle of Waterloo, you know. The Duchess of Richmond's Ball was the event of the season, but the horror that followed was quite dreadful. Those memories, they never leave you. A man shot at close range is not a pretty sight.” As she spoke, all three of them looked up at once. Lady Carlington's gaze flicked to the bloodstains on their clothes. “Sorry about our appearance,” Damien muttered. “Er, the pig died.” “And we 'ad to chop 'im up,” Alex chipped in helpfully. “How unfortunate.” Aunt Joan picked up her tea and they all followed suit, the silence rather strained while they drank. Alex looked more than once as if he might suddenly bolt out of the room. When they'd finished their tea, Flora took the opportunity to gather up the cups and leave. Lady Carlington sighed. “Now I suppose you would like news of Alicia?” “I would, Lady Carlington.” Damien tried to keep calm, and not sound so desperate, but he couldn't stop the anxiety from showing. “Where is she? Is she well?” “She is at my house, and safe for now, but I have to tell you that she seems quite intent on going through with 32
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the marriage to Crosbie. I cannot understand it, and was rather hoping you could enlighten me.” “He threatened to marry her sister if she didn't go back to him.” “Aha. Just wait until I get my hands on the man. What a scoundrel!” “Is there anything we can do to prevent it? I love her, Lady Carlington. She's going to marry me, not him.” “Unfortunately, my brother can be stubborn as a mule when he wants to be, and he's a terrible snob. I'm afraid he's quite taken with this alliance he's struck with Crosbie. They're a very old family, and Crosbie's invested rather heavily in one of my brother's harebrained schemes.” “But I can give him money.” Damien felt his heart starting to beat a little faster at the prospect of such an easy solution. “And a title. Surely he would prefer his daughter marrying a lord over a reverend?” Lady Carlington looked at him, somewhat surprised. “Normally, yes. But you do know what they say about your family, don't you?” “The vampire legend?” “My brother would never want to be associated with the Lucius name. They say the Devil came for your father.” “Idle gossip, nothing more.” Damien rose from the chair. “She can't marry Crosbie. You don't know what he's like. He's involved in all sorts of perverse activities. His reverend persona is just a façade.” 33
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“Who told you this?” “Alicia. It was the reason she ran away. She'll marry him over my dead body.” “And mine.” Alex lifted his head, spoke, then dropped his gaze back to his knees. Damien waited expectantly while Lady Carlington went very quiet, willing her to come up with a solution for them, and knowing that he couldn't go for much longer without seeing Lissa. “May I visit her?” “Shh, I'm thinking.” Lady Carlington waved him away as if it were her house, not his. He sat obediently, swallowed down his agitation and waited. “I have it.” She flashed them both such a mischievous look that Damien was beginning to see just who Lissa took after in her family. Standing up, she rearranged her skirts and rubbed her hands together. “Now, boys. Who’s up for a little blackmail?” **** “I want you to talk to her, Wendy. You've more chance of getting her to open up. Ask her about Damien.” “Damien? Who's Damien?” “If I'm not mistaken, someone who loves her very much, although my main concern here is Alicia.” Aunt Joan shuffled the papers on her desk and glanced at the top 34
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sheet. “Hmm…very interesting. Tell her I've seen him. Do not force the issue. Let her tell you in her own words.” “What are you planning, Aunt? Have you found a way to stop this wedding?” “I may have, my dear.” Aunt Joan walked around her desk and slipped an arm around her niece. “The success of it depends firmly on Damien. If he truly loves her, he will find the strength to succeed - with more than a little help from me, of course.” She sighed. “There are things even I cannot interfere with. My brother is at liberty to marry his daughters to whom he chooses, and I cannot stop him, unless I take drastic action. I would prefer to remain within the law.” She walked Wendy to the window and they both looked out at Alicia, who was sitting in her usual place on the garden bench. “I could do this myself, Wendy, but I think it's important for both of them that Damien does it. It's something you will learn, my dear. Always let a man think that something clever was his idea.” “And is he clever enough? A hero?” “I have a feeling that young Damien is about to surprise himself. I only hope I'm right, for both their sakes. Now off you go, and tell Jonathan I need him to deliver some papers to Lord Rossendale. I think he's going to find these very interesting.” **** “It's been two weeks since you came back, Alicia. When are you going to come and visit me?” 35
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“Oh, Wendy, don't be offended. I just don't feel like going anywhere. I feel so trapped that I just can't move.” Wendy sat next to her cousin and regarded her anxiously. “You don't look well. Why are you so intent on going through with this wedding?” Alicia turned away, unwilling to lie to Wendy, who was being her usual steadfast, friendly self. “Don't ask me that; I don't want to lie to you. I cannot tell you.” “I think Aunt Joan knows what it is. Alicia, she's seen Damien.” “Has she?” Alicia turned sharply. “How does she know about him?” “She's Aunt Joan, Alicia; she makes it her business to know. “Who is he?” “The man who saved my life.” “Do you love him?” Alicia didn't answer. The very mention of Damien's name caused such an ache in her chest that she could scarcely breathe, let alone talk. “I'll take it that you do.” “Oh, Wendy.” Alicia found her voice at last. One full of despair as she spoke. “It was like finding something I’d only dreamed of having. He rescued me on the night I ran away, and I did grow to love him, very much. He was so kind and gentle, and I've made such a mess of 36
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things. I thought I'd killed Crosbie that night, and now here is my punishment. Did she say how he was?” “No, only that she'd seen him. Why won't you let us help you? There are people here who would gladly share this burden with you. Why won't you let us?” “Because I'm the only one who can do this, Wendy. Don't ask me to explain. I’ve always felt that I had to protect everyone, even as a child.” “But we're not children any more. And you're not alone any more, either. Come, give me a hug and we'll talk about something more cheerful. Did you know that there’s someone in the village who has a dancing dog?” “Really?” “No, not really, but it made you smile a little. Damien wants to visit you. Will you see him?” “I can't, Wendy. If I see him I'll weaken, and I have to do this.” Wendy engulfed her in another hug. and Alicia leaned gratefully against her. Nobody really understood the sacrifice she was making. What she was giving up to save Dana. And poor Damien. Was he missing her as much as she was missing him? They hadn't parted on very good terms, and that made this even worse. What if he did think she'd only been using him? Her head ached from all the questions. Questions she suspected she might be asking herself for the rest of her life. 37
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**** Sometimes you just don't notice that the years have slipped by and the person you once were isn't there any more. One day, when you're not looking, someone else sneaks in and takes their place. Flora paused in front of the ornate mirror in the drawing room, gazing wearily at her reflection. Greying hair, plump figure, lined face. Where had she gone - that pretty young lass who'd come to this place all those years ago, with such hopes and dreams. And who was this tired, old-looking woman staring back at her? Her breath caught when, for a moment she thought she saw Evan standing behind her. But there was no-one there. All she had now were memories. Evan, who’d dazzled her with his dark looks and strength, his sharp wit and his dangerous sexuality. From the moment she'd set eyes on him she'd been obsessed. All she'd wanted was him. There wasn't anything she wouldn't have done for him. She knew he dallied with other women, perhaps even Damien's mother, but it was always her he came back to. She took care of him like no other woman ever had, and he knew that. When she'd become pregnant she'd obeyed him and gone to a woman in the village who'd had made it disappear. Twice she'd done that for him. But the second time, the experience had been so dreadful she thought she would surely die. So when she fell with child a third time she kept it to herself, too frightened to do anything 38
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about it. Even to tell him. When he found out he'd been so furious that she thought he was going to kill her. He didn't need a bastard child to remind him of what he was himself. What use was another bastard in the world? He said it so often that she'd started to believe it, and somewhere along the line she'd made a choice. She couldn't remember doing it, but she had. Evan, or the child? It hadn't been a difficult choice; Alex had been an undemanding child, sullen and withdrawn. As if he knew the world didn't want him so he would have as little to do with it as possible. And besides, she had had more than enough to do with looking after and worrying about Damien. Beside Alex's dark, ragamuffin appearance Damien had looked like a little angel. On the few occasions that Damien's father actually remembered he had a son, he would demand that Damien be brought to the library, where he and his drunken friends would all make sport of him. On more than one occasion they would think it hilariously funny to take the child outside, into the sunshine, to see if anything amusing would happen. And all the while Damien would simply stand and endure it with a bemused smile. Once they’d called for Alex, but the lad had shown his father up so much with his kicking and screaming that Evan had beaten him until he couldn't walk. That's how it had started. The cycle of abuse and denial. Alex was wild, and needed discipline. Flora had convinced herself that Evan was doing it for the boy’s own good. After a while Alex had stopped running to her for comfort that she very obviously wasn’t prepared to give. Then the sport became teasing Alex. It was so much more 39
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amusing to see his rage as they wound him up, than Damien's quiet acceptance. Damien wanted to be loved. Alex didn't. It had been as simple as that in her mind. But what was done was done. Just as she'd never have her youth back, so she could never have those baby days and little boy days back either. She remembered the feeling of Damien's tiny arms hugging her, and how he would plaster her face with wet kisses, laughing all the while. And his soft baby skin against her lips. But she couldn't remember what Alex had felt like to hold as a baby, or when he'd taken his first steps, or said his first word. She couldn't bring to mind a picture of him at five, seven, ten years old. It was as if she'd been handed a baby, had turned away for a few moments and suddenly here he was, a man. It had taken Evan's death to make her realise that this dark-haired stranger who sat on the sofa, frowning at the pages of a book he couldn't read, was the baby she suddenly and desperately wanted back. She knew she didn't deserve his love now, but Evan's death had brought home her own mortality. He’d never reconciled with his son, and it was frightening to think she might die before she had a chance to tell Alex things she should have said a long time ago. She moved quietly to the sofa, sitting herself down beside him. It took a moment for him to acknowledge her. He dropped the book and half stood up. She stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm and pressed him back down. 40
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He sat again, cautiously, a suspicious, guarded expression on his face. Avoiding eye contact as he usually did. She hooked a finger under his chin and raised his face to make him look at her. It wasn't going to happen just like that. There were too many years of neglect for her to expect his respect, but she could see from the bleak look in his eyes that he needed her now as much as he'd ever done. Move forward from now and try to make amends. It was all she could do. He flinched at her hand reaching out to smooth back his hair. She was heartened to feel him lean in slightly when it lingered on his cheek. They'd always be her babies, she realised. No matter how grown-up they became. “How are you feeling, Alex?” The question seemed to startle him. He turned away abruptly, leaving her hand hovering in mid-air. She brought it slowly back to her lap, relieved that he hadn't just got up and left, then she picked up the book he'd been trying to read. “I could help you with this. Would you like that?” He made a non-committal sound, shrugging shoulders that were shaking slightly before turning back to her, his eyes a little brighter and glazed over with tears he was desperately trying not to shed. “You can't just expect me to suddenly start being your son. Just because 'e’s not 'ere any more.” He held himself stiffly away from her and she knew, for the first time, what it had been like for him. What it was like to crave reassurance and comfort and have it denied. 41
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“No, I can't, Alex, but can we try?” Disbelief clouded his eyes, as if he thought she was only dangling this in front of him so she could snatch it away just as he was reaching for it. “'S’pose so.” It was something. She needed to talk to him about Evan, but now wasn't the time. Opening up the book, she thought that this would do for a start and things could only get better from now on. **** It was nearly finished. The portrait he'd promised to paint, and which he was now seriously worried that Lissa would never see. He wasn't very pleased with it; the colours were all wrong and he'd had to improvise the flesh tones because he didn't have enough paint left to get the exact shade, but it had kept him occupied these past two weeks. Working on her picture at least kept her image fresh in his mind. It terrified him that he might forget what she looked like, so he stared at it repeatedly. But now, two weeks after she'd left, the image was starting to look like that of a stranger. Was this really the woman who'd changed his life so much? Like a half-remembered dream, she was fading away and he was starting to think he'd imagined her. She’d refused all his requests to see her. He knew how stubborn she could be, but this determination made him feel such panic. What if they couldn't resolve this in 42
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time, and she did go through with this marriage? Where did that leave him? And would she survive it? Damien picked up a rag and wiped his paint-stained hands. Where the hell was Jonathan? Aunt Joan had collected some interesting information about Crosbie's activities, but still not enough to blackmail the man with, as they'd hoped to do. Damien wasn't at all relishing the alternative Alex talked about incessantly. Sweeping in and snatching young ladies from under the noses of their wicked suitors only happened in novels. They'd never get anywhere near Crosbie, naïve as they were. The result would probably be a grand, romantic gesture that would either get them all killed, or sent to the gallows. At the sound of the knocking he threw down the rag and raced for the front door. It was already open and a very reluctant Jonathan was being practically dragged inside by Flora. Damien had explained to him that there were no vampires or evil undead in the house, but he could see that Jonathan was still terrified of the place, and of him. It should have been flattering, and a few months ago it would have been. Now it was just embarrassing. Poor Jonathan didn't realise that all who lived here were simply a desperately lonely group of very ordinary people. He caught up with them in the kitchen, Jonathan now seated at the table while Flora made him some tea. When Damien entered Jonathan jumped to his feet and bowed. “M'Lord.”
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Damien pulled himself out a chair, and motioned him down. “Please, it's Damien. We don't stand on ceremony here. Do you have anything for me?” “Some papers, M'Lord. Lady Carlington thought you ought to see these urgently.” There was a large envelope and several smaller ones. “She told me to tell you that she's included the name of her lawyer. He already knows to expect a communication from you.” Jonathan dropped the papers on the table and scuttled back to his seat. Damien picked them up, flicking Jonathan an exasperated glance. “For heaven's sake, man, I'm not going to bite you,” he snapped. It wasn't perhaps the best thing he could have said. Jonathan shrank farther into his coat and edged his chair backwards all the while, eyeing him warily. “Will you take me to Plymouth, Jonathan? Some time next week, perhaps. I need to visit this lawyer, I think.” “Lady Carlington has put me at your disposal M’Lord.” “Good.” Damien picked up his tea and indicated that Jonathan do the same. “And Jonathan, there really are no vampires here.” “If you say so, M’Lord.” Damien watched, slightly amused now, as Jonathan drank his tea so fast he must surely have burned his mouth. It was a strange feeling, being called My Lord by someone who really meant it. And being bowed to and 44
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shown deference with no trace of irony or contempt. A very small taste of the power his position would afford him in the real world. But it was one thing having power and quite another to have the experience to be able use it to get the things you wanted. As he drank his tea he looked over the papers, thinking through the implications of what he was reading. It would seem that Crosbie was a member of more than one dubious society. Clubs dedicated to Devil worship and decadence, they were all here, listed by eyewitnesses who'd seen Crosbie there, but who all wanted to remain anonymous. None of this would help unless they could get signed affidavits. And that would mean putting themselves at risk of exposure. If only they could persuade someone to talk openly, then Lissa and Dana would be free. Crosbie wouldn't want a scandal of these proportions. Damien rubbed his eyes and dropped the papers onto the table, nodding to Jonathan, who was bowing now and preparing to leave. Damien stood too, but sat down again because, upon glancing at the discarded sheets, something had caught his eye. '… Very much a last resort', he read picking up the letter from Lady Carlington. The House of Lords. The upper house of the English Parliament, and in which, as a lord, he had a seat. That gave him a say in the legislative process and also, apparently, something else. …..You should also know, Damien, that anything you say within the chamber of the House is immune from prosecution by either the laws of libel or that of slander. This means that you can stand up and denounce Crosbie, cause an enormous scandal, and there will be 45
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no comeback to you. Of course, it may not do your reputation any good, either, but I very much get the impression that you are not so worried about such things. This would be very much a last resort as hopefully just the threat of you doing so should cause Crosbie to relent in his actions….. Take his seat in the House of Lords? He might as well try and fly to the moon. Just the thought of going to Plymouth was causing such a knot of tension in his stomach that he thought he was going to be sick. What chance did he have of getting himself to London then standing up in front of all the other lords and making his claims? If Crosbie called his bluff he'd be forced to do it. And, even if he did have the confidence to carry it through, there was another matter that needed clearing up. What if he wasn't a lord after all? What if his father were still alive somewhere? Damien knew that if someone was missing for a number of years they could be legally declared dead, but had his father ever been? There was only one person left in the house who could answer these questions, and she was bustling around collecting up the teacups and wiping the crumbs from the table. Flora smiled at him and took his cup, then tilted her head and gave him an enquiring look as she caught him staring at her. “What is it, Damien? Does Lady Carlington have news of Lissa?” “No, Flora, it's not about Lissa, I need to talk to you. Will you sit down?”
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Flora moved over to the sink instead and started stacking cups. “I don't think there's anything I can help you with. Goodness, look at all this washing-up.” Damien watched her busy herself for a while. It was almost as if she knew what he wanted to talk about, but even after all this time she wasn't ready to face it. He got up and crossed the kitchen. Standing behind her, he placed his hands on her shoulders. She jumped at his touch, then sighed and put down the cup she was cleaning. “What do you want to know, Damien?” He leaned over her shoulder and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “Do I ever thank you enough for everything you do for us?” “No, you don't, and flattery will get you nowhere, young man.” Flora wiped her hands on her apron and turned around. “I love you very much, Damien; you know that, don't you?” Her hand strayed to his cheek as she spoke, a slightly faraway look in her eye. “I know, Flora, but you've got to talk to me. There are questions only you can answer. Please sit down.” She went, rather reluctantly, to the chair he indicated and sat, regarding him apprehensively as he settled himself opposite her, elbows on his knees. “I don't remember much of my childhood. What was I like?” “You were very sweet, my dear.” Flora fiddled with her apron as she spoke, inspecting the material closely then letting it drop. “No trouble at all.” 47
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“Was that because of the laudanum?” “Partly.” He saw her swallow and purse her lips, then she fished in her apron pocket and brought out a handkerchief. “I did it to keep you safe, Damien. You must realise that.” A very unexpected feeling of anger coursed through him at the thought of all those wasted years. Again he cautioned himself to save it up for Crosbie. Flora did love him, even if that love had been a little misguided at times. “I'm glad you've made it up with Alex. We've lived a strange life here, haven't we? Why did you never tell me who Evan was?” “Because if I had, he'd have killed you. On the laudanum you were no threat to him and his plans.” “Please don't cry,” he said, watching her wipe her eyes. “What's done is done, and we can't change the past.” He waited to see if she was taking in what he'd said, aware that he needed to tread carefully around her. This wasn't about blame and recrimination. “Would it help if I said I forgive you? And if you saved my life, then I thank you. You must understand that I need to know about my past, Flora. I can't have a future unless you tell me.” She nodded into her hanky, reaching across to take his hand. “Don't send me away, Damien. I've nowhere to go.” He was up and out of his chair, his arms around her as she broke down. Mentally chastising himself for upsetting her so. 48
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“Don't be a silly thing. Who's sending you away? Won't I need you to be nurse to my children?” She managed a watery smile at the image that conjured. “When Lissa came, I had such high hopes for the two of you. It wasn't to be, was it?” “Oh yes it was, Flora. We're getting her back if we have to kill Crosbie to do it.” “No.” A look of alarm crossed her face and she grabbed at his arm. “You mustn't. Lissa wouldn't have wanted that.” “Lissa thinks she has to save the world single-handed. I know what she's like, but I'm going to do this, Flora. “You'll get yourself killed.” Tears poured down her cheeks now and she gazed lovingly at him, as she'd always done. “I couldn't bear it.” “Then help me to do it without bloodshed. I need to know what happened to my father. You've never answered that question. Is he dead?” “Yes.” Relief or sadness? What should he feel for someone he didn’t even remember? “How?” “He was on a ship, bound for America. It sank with no survivors.”
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Another moment to take it in. He'd had pictures in his mind about what had happened to his father, but never that one. “I remember the night he left. Flora was silent for a long while, several times opening her mouth to speak then closing it. Damien leaned forward, encouraging her to continue, making eye contact when she tried to avoid him. “What is it? You must tell me.” “I don't know how to say this, Damien.” She gazed tearfully at him, almost choking on the words. “Evan isn't the only one buried in the wood.” A chill silence settled over them as her words sank in, filling him with a terrible sense of dread. “My mother?” “I'm so sorry.” It was her turn to comfort him now, rising from her chair and folding her arms around him. “They were drinking one night and there was a lot of noise and sounds of arguing and shouting. Evan called me upstairs and showed me the body. He asked me to make sure all the servants were out of the way. There were marks on her neck which couldn’t be explained away as an accident. They buried her in the woods and everyone assumed she’d left.” She was dead too? Somehow Damien had always pictured his mother sitting on a terrace somewhere in Italy, drinking wine in the sunshine, happy because she'd managed to escape from her nightmarish life at the mansion. 50
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“Are you all right, my love?” He couldn't answer her, not trusting himself to speak at that moment, so he just let her hold him. His mother was supposed to have run away, just as his father had; that's what he'd always thought. It was horrible to think she'd been murdered, but a strange relief to know she hadn't abandoned him after all, and that she wasn't happy somewhere else, knowing she'd left him behind. It would have been easier not to do this – confronting the past was painful. He let out a long breath. There was some comfort in knowing. Hugging Flora tighter, he cried for the things he’d lost, knowing how awful it must have been for her to have carried the burden of this terrible secret all these years. Then he accepted the handkerchief she pressed on him and wiped his own eyes. So he was Lord Rossendale, and all this did belong to him. Now he had no excuse not to act. There was only one thing left to do, then all his energy was going into saving Lissa. “Thank you for telling me, Flora. I know that wasn't easy for you. There's one thing more you've got to do for me before we close this chapter of our lives and look firmly to a new future.” He stood up and walked over to the kitchen door. “Come on,” he said taking the coat from the peg and draping it over his head. “I need you to show me where my mother is buried.” **** “How are you, my dear?” 51
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“I'm all right, Aunt, please don't worry about me. All this worry has upset my stomach these past few days. But that is all.” “How can I not worry about you? Shall I sit with you for a while?” Alicia nodded to her aunt and made room on the sofa, surreptitiously pinching her cheeks to bring a little colour into them. She knew she looked pale, and the sickness she'd been feeling these last few days had put her in even lower spirits. Her aunt missed none of it. “So, Alicia, you know I've seen your Damien, don't you?” “My Damien?” Alicia's cheeks coloured of their own accord at the mention of his name. “He's not my Damien any more, Aunt.” Aunt Joan raised her eyebrows at that. “I think he is, Alicia. And you've caught yourself a lord too. I'm impressed.” “Please don't be, Aunt. I can't marry him and that's an end to it. Don't ask me why.” “I don't have to, Alicia. He's already told me. I want you to know that none of us who love you is going to stand by and let this marriage happen. You must have hope that we will find a solution.” “But how, Aunt? Father will not hesitate to marry Dana off to Crosbie if I refuse, or run away again. You know how enamoured he is of him. And even though Damien is a lord, Father would never want an alliance with the Lucius family. You know it.” 52
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“I've already told Damien that and he's still determined to rescue you. Don't give up hope, please.” Alicia closed her eyes and leaned back against the cushions. If only a solution were that simple and Damien could come and sweep her off her feet as he had that night on the cliff road. But that wasn't real. That was a fantasy world they'd conjured between them. A world where everything was possible because there was noone to tell them their love was wrong. Where no one cared about Damien's family reputation. She'd found her true self at the mansion but now she was lost again. “He's going to rescue Dana too, he and that Alex. I do like Alex. He's very amusing. I have to say, Alicia, that I approve wholeheartedly of your choice. It's just so like you.” Her aunt gazed at her kindly. “I will ring for tea. It will do you good. Then perhaps you can tell me a little more about Damien. I understand he cannot go out into the sun.” Alicia stayed where she was, lying back against the cushion, having no energy to move. Damien had called her his sunshine. He'd also said he couldn't live without her. She'd said the same about him, yet here they were apart, still living and breathing. You didn't die of a broken heart, she thought, you lived with it. That was the cruellest twist. “His skin burns very easily and it makes him ill. That's why no one's ever seen him. How is he?” “Well, as far as I could tell. Missing you a lot, I think. But it's a strange thing. I very much got the impression that, although you'd given him strength, he didn't need 53
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you for that any more. That with you gone, he's found his own.” Alicia sat up at this, frowning as her aunt handed her a teacup. “Are you saying he doesn't want me any more?” Her voice almost broke. She may have left Damien but it had never crossed her mind that he'd ever stop wanting her, or even worse, find someone to replace her. Somehow she'd always thought he'd sit quietly by and just endure this with her. “I'll speak my mind, as I always do, my dear. Do not look so worried. He does still love you - he told me as much – but I have to say this. Your leaving was probably the best thing that ever happened to him.” “How can you say that? His heart will be broken. I know it will. And I did it in the worst way. His mother and his father left him, and I did too. How do you think that will make him feel?” It was the first time Alicia had thought of that. Of his parents abandoning him, and now her as well. How could that be good for him? “Alicia, young Damien will grow and be a better man because of this; you mark my words. He's going to find a strength he didn't know existed. and when he comes for you he'll be a different person from the one you left behind.” “If he comes for me he's going to get himself killed. I tried to stop that, Aunt.” “Do you not think that is his choice? He will decide how much he wants to risk in this. That decision is his, not yours.”
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Alicia put down her cup as a mild wave of nausea overtook her. How could she let Damien risk everything for love? And how could she stand by and watch him die for her? “You can't understand what I'm going through, Aunt. I love him more than my own life.” “And he loves you more than his. Can you not see that that is the point? It works both ways, Alicia.” “But he doesn't need to prove himself to me. Why does he think that?” “He doesn't, Alicia. He needs to prove it to himself, and you must let him. You'll never be happy together unless you do.” “Crosbie will follow us wherever we go. He'll find us. How could we live, knowing that a madman was out there?” Her aunt patted her arm and pulled her into a hug. “I'm sorry, Alicia. Have I been a little harsh with you? I think these things needed saying. I don't mean to upset you when you are in such a delicate condition. You must know that Damien has no intention of running away and, believe me, if things go according to plan, Crosbie will want to have nothing more to do with you, ever. Now do try and eat something.” Alicia stared at the tray of cakes, feeling a small spark of hope for the first time since she'd come back. Aunt Joan could be so convincing when she was in full flow. If she was helping Damien then they might just succeed. But the thought of him putting himself at risk still tied her up in knots. 55
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“What condition, Aunt? I have a nervous stomach, that's all. I don't mean to worry anyone.” Her aunt let her go and Alicia could see that the corners of her mouth were twitching as if she didn't think it appropriate to smile during so serious a conversation, but she just couldn't help it. “I'm assuming you shared Damien's bed while you were at the mansion?” Alicia pulled away, her hands flying to her rapidly warming cheeks, overcome by a wave of embarrassment. “I thought as much. Look at me child. I do not blame you. I would have done the same.” “Really?” Alicia peeked through her fingers, before slowly lowering her hands to place them in her lap. “You don't think I'm a fallen woman?” “Alicia, this is me you're talking to, not your father. But did you not consider what the consequences might be?” Oh my God, I cant be, she thought. Not with child. There hadn't been enough time - or had there? “You can't marry Crosbie if you're carrying Damien's child.” Her aunt carried on speaking but Alicia wasn't listening any more. Crosbie wouldn't want to marry her if she was pregnant with another man's child, surely? Would that mean he would go on and marry Dana just to spite her. She couldn’t do this alone. The child was Damien’s too. Keeping this from him would break his heart. 56
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She turned back to her aunt. “You must tell him for me.” Her aunt, surprisingly, looked alarmed at the suggestion. “I do not think we should tell Crosbie about this. I fear for what he will do if he finds out.” “Not Crosbie, Damien. He needs to know. I want him to come for us. For Dana and me. Tell him I need him to come for us soon, Aunt. Crosbie is a monster. He will not take this blow to his pride kindly.” Another wave of dizziness overtook her as she thought through the implications of it all. Crosbie wasn't stupid, and she wouldn't be able to keep this from him for long. When he found out? It didn't bear thinking about. But she'd protect this baby to her dying breath, she knew that. And Damien could protect them both. Him, and Alex. It really was time for her to let them show the world what they were made of.
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Chapter 28 Damien spent the next few days ransacking the house for any papers, deeds or documents that might shed light on what exactly he owned and where it might be found. There were papers pertaining to bank accounts and deeds for land, property and business which made him believe he might be a very wealthy man. Lady Carlingtons’s lawyer would unravel it all. He also intended to ask about the property in Rossendale, and find out whether anyone was using it at present. Lady Carlington had suggested he might think about letting the mansion if he intended to move. It was what people of property did, apparently, although he couldn't imagine who would want to voluntarily live here, given the stories that surrounded the place. For the first time, there was something to do other than just indulge himself. This actually felt like a job of work, something important that was going to make a difference. He stood nervously in the hall, waiting for their transport to arrive, a leather bag full of papers slung over his shoulder, and wearing the best clothes they’d been able to find that didn't make him look thirty years out of date. It felt like the night they'd taken the coach out; the night he'd met Lissa, with his heart beating just a little too fast and a million thoughts racing through his mind. Plymouth was a rough, noisy place, according to Flora. She'd been almost hysterical when she'd realised that he and Alex really were going, convincing herself that they would immediately fall prey to press gangs and wake up in the ranks of the British Navy or some merchant ship 58
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bound for the other side of the globe. They'd have Jonathan with them, but he didn't look sturdy enough to fend anyone off. Trust in Lady Carlington, he repeated over and over to himself as Flora and Alex appeared from the kitchen wing. Now that Evan wasn't here to organise things, they'd have to think about ordering supplies and paying for them. Evan had always overseen the housekeeping and accounts and while Damien waited he realised that there was so much he didn't know about how the world worked. So much he needed to learn. He didn't just need Lissa for the physical aspects of their relationship or for companionship. He needed her to teach him all this. Needed someone he could trust not to cheat him, or take him for the fool he must surely appear to everyone. He heard Lady Carlington’s coach clatter to a halt outside the door. “You ready?” Alex asked. Damien took a very deep breath and moved to open the front door. “Ready as I'll ever be, I suppose. Have you been to Plymouth before?” “No, just into the village a few times with Evan.” Alex sidestepped Flora smartly when she went for his collar, tutting to herself and declaring that he looked a mess. “Mother, will you stop fussing? I can do my own collar.”
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“But Alex, my dear, you're supposed to be a gentleman. Now remember to try and speak properly, as Damien taught you. Talk slowly and do not mumble. And do not drink too much. Oh dear, I'm so worried about you both.” “Don't be, Flora,” Damien replied, one eye on the small party of people getting down from the coach. “It looks as if Lady Carlington has brought company.” She had indeed. Two maidservants to stay with Flora so she wouldn't be alone at the mansion, and two men Damien hadn't seen before. Lady Carlington swept in ahead of them in her usual regal style, kissing Damien on the cheek and winking at Alex. “I've brought you some company, Flora my dear. Elizabeth and Agnes are both very sensible and don't believe for a moment all this nonsense about vampires. Perhaps you'd like to show them a place to sleep, and we shall be away. Are you ready, boys?” Damien nodded, swallowing nervously. He wanted to ask about Lissa, but they had quite a crowd about them now. Elizabeth and Agnes curtseyed to him, something he still hadn't got used to, and one of the men gathered up his and Alex’s bags and took them to the waiting coach. “So, are we ready?” Lady Carlington looked them up and down, her expression one of considerable amusement. She turned in a swish of skirts, and swept back towards the coach.
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Alex nearly fell over in his haste to get to the coach. Flora rushed after him in an effort to hug him once more. “I should be coming with you,” she wailed. “No.” They both spoke at once and Damien leaned out and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. He flicked a glance at Alex, who was mouthing the word no at him and shaking his head frantically from the other side of the coach. Lady Carlington’s mouth twitched, but she managed not to laugh. “I promise we'll come back in one piece, Flora. Now go inside and see to Elizabeth and Agnes. I'm glad you won't be alone.” “Damien, put your hand in or you will burn. One piece? Oh dear, what do you mean by that?” It wasn't quite the best expression he might have used. Flora was wiping her eyes now, obviously convinced she was never going to see either of them again. As the coach lurched forward she took a few steps with it, and he jumped up, thinking that she would surely fall under the wheels. To their great relief she decided not to chase the coach to Plymouth, and Alex relaxed at last. “God's blood, I thought she was coming with us. Begging your pardon, Lady Carlington.” “I can quite understand it Alex. You certainly wouldn't want your mother with you at your age.” “That I don't Lady C. Got plans for this weekend, I 'ave.” 61
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Both Damien and Lady Carlington sat up at this, looking at him expectantly. “Well, I'm not telling you,” he said, folding his arms and blushing a little. “Something I got to do, that's all. None of your business.” Damien had a decided sinking feeling at Alex's words. “You're not going to disappear, are you? I promised Flora we'd get home in one piece, and I need you with me.” “No, I'm not going to disappear. Not for long, anyway. Who am I again?” “You're my cousin and your country seat is in Lancashire. In Helmshore. You are Alexander Lucius.” “Still don't like that name,” Alex grumbled, staring out of the window and watching the mansion disappear as the coach made its way down the drive. “Got this far without a second name; don't see why I 'ave to 'ave one now. You think they'll be all right back there by themselves?” “Oh dear,” Lady Carlington said. “I should have left one of the men with them. Shall we go back?” “They'll be all right, Lady Carlington. No-one ever visits the mansion. Will you be staying with us in Plymouth?” “No, Damien, I need to get back to Shell Bay. I will see you settled, but not in Plymouth, for you two are far too innocent to be let loose on the streets of such a town. We are going to an inn in a village a few miles from there, and I will leave Warren and Jake along with Jonathan, to see that you are well protected.” 62
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Alex made a snorting sound at that, looking quite affronted at the implication that he couldn't look after himself. “We're not children, Lady C. Anyway, got this.” He reached into his pocket, frowning when his hand came out empty. “Was ‘ere a minute ago,” he mumbled, a mystified expression on his face. Lady Carlington twisted her foot and kicked something out from under her seat. “Were you looking for this?” Alex looked into his pocket one more time just to make sure his eyes weren't deceiving him. “But it was 'ere. 'Ow did you do that?” Lady Carlington laughed out loud as he bent down and pocketed the small pistol once more, suddenly looking at Lady Carlington with a new-found respect. “I didn't feel you take it. When did you learn to do that, then?” “It's my party trick, Alex. I learned it from a Frenchman - goodness, I was in love with him. They caught me pushing the rowing boat out in an attempt to row to France to join him.” “I bet you would 'ave too.” “Ahh, young love.” She nodded at his pocket. “That was rather amusing, but I was making a serious point to both of you. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?”
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“We do, Lady Carlington, and thank you. We couldn't have done any of this without you.” Damien decided he'd better jump into the conversation at this point before Alex got any more familiar with Lady Carlington than he already had. She certainly didn't seem to mind the casual way in which he called her Lady C. instead of her full name, but Damien had a suspicion that it wouldn’t do in polite society. The thought made him smile. No one had anyone ever accused Alex of being polite society. In fact, if he wasn't mistaken, he could have sworn that Lady Carlington was flirting with Alex, and Alex was doing a good job of flirting back. It seemed to be coming naturally to him, which puzzled Damien somewhat. Alex, who had hardly spoken two words in succession to anyone before Lissa had arrived. For some reason Lissa had been able to tell Alex things that she hadn't told him. Now Lady C. seemed to be bringing him out further. While Damien already felt slightly queasy from the movement of the coach, he could see that Alex seemed totally at ease. And while he felt nervous at the prospect of meeting so many people all of a sudden, Alex had the appearance of one looking forward to it. They sat in quiet contemplation as the coach made its way along the coast road, and with a sinking heart Damien suddenly realised what Alex's secret business in Plymouth was going to be. It must have shown on his face. Alex looked back at him, smirked and then turned to look pointedly out of the window again, as if telling him that it really was none of his business. Damien then thought about the trio riding on top of the coach. They had the air of men totally at ease with the 64
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world and how it worked. Without their employer around, they too were probably out to have a good time. He then began to contemplate the real possibility that Alex wouldn’t want to return to the mansion at all. How on Earth could he ever break that news to Flora? **** “Are you sure I can't get you anything else, Alicia?” “No thank you, Wendy. Sit down and talk with me; you haven't stopped fussing since I arrived. The lemonade will do nicely.” “I'm just so excited that you managed to visit me at last. Are you feeling any better?” “Not really, but I haven't come here to talk about myself. Tell me some news, Wendy. What's been happening while I was away?” Wendy sat herself on the garden bench with Alicia and poked Dana with her foot. “You will be covered in grass, Dana. Come, sit with us.” Dana rolled over so that she was lying full-length on the lawn, flinging her arms wide and sighing heavily. “What glorious weather. I wish we could go down to the cove and swim.” “Mama would have a fit, Dana. Do get up. That is a most unladylike pose.” Dana got up, grumbling and brushing grass from her dress. “No-one ever wants me to have any fun. Being ladylike is so boring.” 65
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The others laughed in sympathy. “It is rather restricting, isn't it? Shall we walk down to the cove?” Lissa sighed and leaned back her head. The warm sun made her think of Damien. She'd tried to burn his face into her mind, but just lately it was becoming more difficult - a blur of mixed images of her time at the mansion. “I don't think I have the energy, Wendy.” “Nonsense, it will do you good.” Lissa felt Wendy's hand on hers. Pulling her up. Heard her sending Dana into the house to fetch towels to dry their feet. “All right then, if you insist.” She let herself be pulled up. There was no will to resist, and she knew that a change of scenery would do her good. This visit had already made her feel better than she had done since she’d left the mansion. Wendy called after Dana to meet them at the gate. She linked arms with Alicia. “Does Dana know about Damien?” “Not yet. I'd like it to be our secret for now, Wendy.” “Of course.” Wendy patted Alicia's hand reassuringly. “And it's safe with me. Oh, goodness, I just have to tell someone or I will explode. I want you to be the first to know. I think I'm going to have a baby.” 66
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For a brief moment all Alicia heard was the word baby and she nearly opened her mouth to ask Wendy how she knew, but then she realised that Wendy was talking about herself. Wendy must have caught the shocked expression on her face. She frowned slightly. “I'm happy, Lissa. It's what Oswald and I wanted.” “Wendy, I'm sorry.” Lissa stopped and managed to force a delighted expression onto her face. Of course she was delighted for her cousin, but the news had not only startled her, it had reminded her that she was in the same situation and that there was someone who should know her news too. She grabbed her cousin in a hug, squeezing her tightly and feeling envious that Wendy's baby was something to be excited about. Alicia still didn't know whether hers was going to be a good thing or not. The whole business terrified her. “I am happy for you, really I am. It was just such a shock your saying it like that. Does Oswald know?” “Not yet. You and I always said we'd tell each other first. Do you remember?” “We did, didn't we?” Alicia linked arms with her cousin once more, contemplating whether she ought to tell Wendy her news. Aunt Joan already knew, so it wasn't as if Damien would be the first to know anyway. No, it wasn't so straightforward. Wendy's baby had been conceived in wedlock. Her own hadn't, and Alicia knew that society would have a lot to say about that. 67
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“Wendy, can we meet again? Some time without Dana?” “Of course we can. You know that nothing you say will shock me, don't you? Is that what you are afraid of?” “No, Wendy, you would never judge me. I do know that. I need to talk, about Damien… Visit me tomorrow and I'll tell you everything if you will promise to keep it all a secret for now.” They both turned as they reached the gate and watched Dana loping across the grass, towels flapping behind her. She skidded to a halt in front of them, noticing immediately the fixed smiles they'd both pasted onto their faces, looking from one to the other as if to ask what had been going on. She stood back and folded her arms. “I wish someone would tell me what all this is about. First Lissa disappears. Then she suddenly comes back. Crosbie isn't the man she thought, but all she wants to do is marry him. It’s very confusing. What is going on?” Alicia glanced briefly at Wendy, who was studying her feet intently, as if she knew that she'd been rather indiscreet in telling Dana about Crosbie. She sighed. Perhaps she should take Dana into her confidence. Would it frighten her to know what Crosbie had threatened? Of course it would. They must be careful with the truth, but Dana did need to know what might be in store. If all hell broke loose, as Alicia fully expected it to do, and soon, then Dana needed to be prepared for it too.
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She offered Dana her other arm and linked with her so that they could all walk together, feeling for the first time since she'd returned that she wasn’t alone in this. Aunt Joan had told her so repeatedly, as had Damien and Alex, and now she was allowing herself to believe it. She couldn't do this alone and, more importantly, she didn't have to. Dana looked slightly puzzled, almost as if now that she'd asked she didn't want to know after all. As they strolled along the beach path Alicia knew the others were both waiting for her to speak. But where to begin? Certainly not with Crosbie and his obscene painting. Alicia gave Dana's arm a little squeeze to reassure her, and let her mind drift back. Happiness and tragedy walked so closely at times. During these past months the two elements had woven in and out of each other and become so tangled as to be almost indistinguishable. But happiness there had been, and that was what mattered the most. The little bit that she'd managed with Damien had been costly, but then precious things often were. “Where shall I begin?” “Start with the best part, Alicia.” Wendy opened the gate to the beach and they all passed through, slipping off their shoes, skirts held up, walking a little way until they found a suitable place to sit. Spreading out the towels, they sat down, and, just as it had been on the night she'd got drunk at the mansion, two expectant faces turned to her and waited. Thinking of Damien and Alex reminded Alicia that they were on their way to Plymouth with Aunt Joan, and she 69
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couldn't help worrying about them. She wished she could have been there for Damien’s first trip into town. It would most likely be quite overwhelming for him. Aunt Joan would make sure they were safe, although she hadn't gone into any detail about their business there. Alicia dismissed the thought from her mind. She didn't want to know. All she wanted was for them to come and rescue her and make this all come right. When she looked up from her thoughts Wendy and Dana were still waiting patiently and she knew exactly where to begin. “I will start with the best part,” she said . “I'll tell you about Damien and Alex.” **** “How is she?” Damien sat in the corner of the private booth, his glance flicking between Lady Carlington and Alex, whose eyes were almost falling out of their sockets every time the serving girl appeared with food. The fact that she was extremely pretty and also an outrageous flirt wasn't helping matters. Warren, Jonathan and Jake had disappeared into the main bar and now that they’d eaten, Lady Carlington was preparing to leave. “She's asked to see you, actually. Would you like to visit us at Shell Bay House when you return?” “Has she?” Oh God, now where was Alex off to? Lady Carlington tapped his hand to bring his attention back to her. 70
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“You're not his keeper, Damien, Alex is a grown man, you know.” “I know, Lady Carlington. I'm sorry. If I don't get Alex home safe and sound Flora will never forgive me. Did you say Alicia wanted to see me?” “Well, she hasn't said as much, but I think you two need to talk. Come and be my house guest for a while. Crosbie doesn't know your involvement in this as yet and it will give you a chance to meet him. Know your enemy and all that! What do you say?” “I don't know. I want to see her, but this is all a bit much.” He looked around at the crowded inn, still rather disorientated by it all. “So many people all at once, and all this bowing and scraping. I'm not sure I'll get used to that. Everyone seems to think I should know exactly what to do, and I don't. Couldn't she come to the mansion instead?” “Your position will bring great responsibility, Damien. People will look to you to make decisions and lead them, but it will also bring many privileges. Just remember to enjoy those too. If Alicia visits the mansion, Crosbie will put two and two together at once.” She rose from her seat, nodding approvingly as Damien stood too. “You see, you are learning fast. Come to Shell Bay for a while and we will organise some new clothes for you, and perhaps some dancing lessons. I think both you and Alex need to learn a few social graces. Bring Flora too.” Damien looked down at himself. “Oh dear, is it that bad?” 71
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“It is, I'm afraid. You remind me of my father as a young man. He was very handsome, so take it as a compliment. Now I will send Jonathan back with the coach, and perhaps we will see you soon. Mr Gill will be here tomorrow to see to your affairs. I have high hopes that he will have something interesting to tell you.” What a formidable woman, Damien thought, as he saw her to the door. How many husbands had she had? He'd forgotten if it was three of four, but he could imagine what life with her would have been like, having spent time with Lissa. Despite the comment about his clothes he was more than grateful to have Lady Carlington on his side. With her gone he suddenly felt cast adrift in a sea of strangers and noise. Lady Carlington had already seen to the accounts for their stay, so there was no need to worry about paying for all this food and lodging. When he’d foolishly flashed a bag of gold coins and offered to pay she’d told him in no uncertain terms how quickly he’d be robbed if he did that again. So much to learn, he thought as he made his way across the crowded inn. And where was Alex? He still hadn’t returned, and that couldn’t be good news. Being out in the world was even stranger than he'd imagined it would be. Just the simple task of negotiating a crowd had him bumping into people and mumbling his apologies. They all seemed to be staring at him - at least, that's how it seemed. He wanted nothing more than to escape to his room once he'd found Alex, of course. He made yet another apology as he bumped into a stout gentleman, and then to his relief he saw Alex sitting with Warren and Jake at 72
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a table near the bar. By the time he reached them his heart was hammering and he was starting to feel slightly dizzy. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself and slid carefully along the bench seat, hoping fervently that the panic didn't show on his face. Warren and Jake stopped for a moment, exchanging glances. Warren nodded. “M'Lord,” he said with a barely suppressed smirk. The lack of respect hardly gave Damien pause. When he'd looked in the mirror that morning and seen his nervous expression and outmoded, faded clothes he hadn't seen a lord either. Damien was fast learning that respect had to be earned and wouldn’t automatically be bestowed on him just because of his title. “Please, no formalities,” he said. “Damien will be fine.” His words earned him a hearty slap on the back from Warren. “That’s the spirit,” he declared and pushed a beer mug towards him. Damien looked up to see three faces staring expectantly at him. He also noticed with dismay that Alex's eyes were already taking on the slightly glazed expression he sported when halfway to being drunk. Picking up the mug, he took a sip and placed it back down on the table, thinking that he needed to meet Mr Gill with a clear head in the morning. “No, no, Damien, that's no good. Drink it down, lad.” Damien looked up at their faces and realised that this was some sort of test. Another of those social conventions he knew nothing about. A test of belonging 73
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and acceptance, perhaps even manliness; who knew? It had been bad enough trying to work out what to do around Lissa and then Lady Carlington, but this male bonding was even more alien to him. His position would have allowed him to walk away - he didn’t need Alex’s acceptance, and much less that of Warren and Jake. Strangely enough, though, as he contemplated the frothy ale, he found that he wanted to be part of the gang. Alex leaned back, arms folded, eyebrows raised. He nodded briefly at the beer mug and winked at him. Damien frowned and then realised what he was trying to tell him. Picking up the mug, he swung it cheerily into the air and downed the contents in one. Drinking was something he could do. At least they looked impressed, he thought, nearly choking as Warren gave him another slap on the back. And thank God for it. “Good for you, Damien. Let me get you another.” “No, thank you.” Damien raised his hand politely. “I really need to stay sober tonight.” “What kind of talk is that, laddie? Out on the town and you’re wanting to stay sober?” Damien removed Warren’s hand, which was now squeezing his shoulder and slid along the seat. “Leave 'im alone, Warren. You'll break 'im if you carry on like that.” It was Jake. Not a man of many words, Damien had already noted. He left his seat and moved closer, effectively sandwiching Damien between himself 74
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and Warren. His arm slid around Damien's shoulders as Warren and Alex dissolved into noisy laughter. For a split second, as he sat there letting them make fun of him, Damien was flashed back to himself as a small child enduring the laughter and taunting of his father and his friends. I put up with it then and I can put up with it now, he thought, feeling more than a little selfconscious with Jake's arm around him. Yet another male bonding ritual? He risked a tenuous smile and wondered what excuse he could give to leave. They all drained their glasses and a new round was called for as yet another pretty serving girl approached the table. Warren grabbed her nimbly around the waist and plonked her onto his lap, his hand planted firmly over one breast. Damien was almost half-standing to go to her defence before he realised that she didn't need his help at all. Just as nimbly she wriggled free and out of reach, telling Warren in no uncertain terms that the goods needed paying for and that nobody was giving it away free, least of all her. She flounced off to fetch their drinks as Jake chose to make another of his rare speeches. “So are you a vampire, then? 'Cos that's what they say, ain't it?” Jake now had Damien in a headlock - the man was surprisingly strong and didn't seem to be in any hurry to let go. Unable to extract himself without making a scene, Damien resigned himself to it and tried to relax. Lissa wanted to see him – concentrate on that, and on what he was going to say to Mr. Gill tomorrow. Alex gave a 75
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loud snort of laughter at Jake's comment and Damien felt his cheeks warming. He shook his head vigorously. “Nothing but idle gossip. You know, big spooky-looking house. There are bound to be tales. No, I'm flesh and blood just like everyone else.” Jake gave his arm a squeeze as if testing for himself that it was true. “That you are. Pity, though. I would 'ave like to 'ave told everyone I knew a vampire.” “Sorry to disappoint. Have you worked for Lady Carlington long?” “Few years.” Warren answered the question, lunging for the serving girl again as she put their drinks on the table. This time she was wise to him and skipped out of his way. “Told you, I want to see your money first, else you can just keep your 'ands to yourself,” she said, swinging her hips and pouting. Warren laughed good-naturedly and turned back to his companions. “Cheeky wench,” he said raising his beer mug once more. “Come on, Alex, you've stopped drinking. Want me to call her back?” “Who?” Alex, who had been in bit of a daydream since the waitress had appeared, suddenly snapped out of it and grabbed his drink, his cheeks colouring a little.
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“No, don't do that,” he mumbled, trying to talk and drink at the same time, spilling beer over the front of his shirt. “I'm fine, I'm fine.” Warren didn't miss his reaction and Damien groaned inwardly. These two were supposed to be looking after him and Alex, not leading them astray. He thought that perhaps he ought to bring the evening to a close and go to his room. He didn't need to be hung-over tomorrow, and all the noise was starting to give him a headache. If this was Lady Carlington's idea of a quiet country inn then goodness knows what Plymouth would have been like. He yawned theatrically when Jake at last removed his arm and declared that he was going for a piss. Damien didn't miss the conspiratorial look the man exchanged with Warren. Yes, a quiet evening in his room with a good book was starting to sound like a very good idea. “I think I'll retire,” he announced, standing up and waiting for them to comment or protest. Alex continued staring into his beer and Warren remained where he was, lounging comfortably back into his seat. After a few moments Warren suddenly appeared to remember what he was there for. “Will you be needing anything, M'Lord? Lady Carlington said we have to make sure you're well looked-after.” “No, Warren, I'll be fine.” Damien turned to go, wanting to make his escape before Jake came back. What they did after he left was none of his business. Lady Carlington was right, Alex was a grown man, although he wasn't as capable of making his own decisions as she seemed to think. Particularly where women were 77
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concerned. The thought made Damien stop and turn back. “Don't drink too much.” Warren gave a loud snigger. Damien distinctly heard him mutter yes Mum under his breath. Alex glared back at him and took another big swig of his beer. “Bugger off to bed, Damien. I'll see you in the morning.” So Damien went, knowing that he'd probably just embarrassed Alex dreadfully. No, he wasn't his keeper. He found the staircase after going through a few wrong doors and getting himself lost, and climbed up. Fumbling in his pocket for the room key, he yawned and thought about bed. He hadn't been sleeping at all well since Lissa left, and the beer had relaxed him somewhat. He was so intent on finding his room that he almost knocked over the young woman standing at the top of the stairs. He caught her by the elbows to stop her falling down, and she giggled pleasantly, raised her face and batted her eyelashes at him. “I… I'm dreadfully sorry. Was that your foot?” Damien let go of her and backed away, the thought flashing through his mind that this was only the second time he'd touched a young lady and that she was a very pretty one at that. “I'm so clumsy,” he said. “I'll just go now. Would you mind…er, I need to get to my room…” “Do you now,” she said, and winked at him. “Are you Damien?” 78
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“Yes, I am. Does someone want me?” “That depends, doesn't it?” She was coming towards him, her hips undulating in the same way that the serving girl’s had. How do women do that? he thought, feeling the solid wall behind him. There was nowhere to go. A pickpocket, he thought in alarm and twisted as her hand moved towards him. To his surprise it came to rest not on his pocket, but on the side of his face. The feel of her fingers trailing slowly down his cheek was not an unpleasant one. When they moved to the front of his shirt he let out a shuddering breath. “Warren says I 'ave to be nice to you,” she said, her voice dropping as she moved in closer. “Shall we go to your room?” “Er, what?” Damien had to physically shake himself out of the haze that was rapidly engulfing him, glancing with alarm at the growing bulge in his trousers. The young woman couldn’t fail to see what was happening as her hand continued its downward journey. “No,” he managed, just before she found out exactly what effect she was having on him. He caught hold of her hand, and manoeuvred himself away from the wall, turning her around. She looked slightly puzzled and made to follow him. He caught hold of her other hand and held her away. “I don’t wish to give offence, but there's been a mistake, I… I don't do this sort of thing. I’m not this way 79
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inclined.” He smiled at her as kindly as he could, not wanting to hurt her feelings. The woman pushed his hands away and glared at him incredulously. “I knew it. The bastards. You're one of them, aren't you? I saw you with that man in the bar.” “I beg your pardon?” Damien ran a hand through his hair, wondering what she was ranting about. To his horror he realised just what she was implying. He'd read about them often enough in his father's books. “You think I'm a…? Someone who likes…” “Saw you, didn't I? All lovey-dovey with God’s-gift down there. You’re disgusting.” Her hands were back on her hips now as she faced him, so he did the only thing he could to salvage his pride. Grabbing her by the upper arms, he pulled her close and planted a hard kiss on her lips, then he pushed her firmly away. “There, did that feel as if I prefer men?” She took two steps back, her hand going to her mouth. He heard her murmur something that sounded like oh My Lord, then he turned and walked away as fast as he could, his breath hitching in his throat from the shock of what he'd just done. And why the hell had he done it? He so needed to see Lissa. 80
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He was almost running by the time he got to his door, terrified that someone might have seen him and Lissa would find out. Wishing she were here now so he could tell her himself. His lips tingled and his body was still more than responding to the girl's nearness. A cold bath was what he needed, or a very boring book. Perhaps Lissa need never know; after all, it hadn't meant anything. He'd only been making a perfectly valid point. He dropped his keys while fumbling for the lock, and when he bent down to pick them up he was aware of a shape stepping out of the shadows. Looking up, he saw Jake coming towards him and his heart sank. He really, really needed to see Lissa. **** Well, this is all very nice, Alex thought. He unbuttoned his trousers and relieved himself against the wall of the stable, feeling pleasantly drunk and quite possibly the happiest he'd ever felt. Evan and the horrible events of the past few weeks were beginning to feel like a distant dream. This was what living was about he mused, tucking himself away and starting on the buttons. Manly things like visiting taverns and making eyes at saucy wenches. Well, he hadn't actually made any eyes at anyone yet. But that would come. As soon as he managed to control the terrible panic he'd felt every time one of them had so much as looked at him. Damn, but he'd thought it was going to be easier than this. The tavern girls were all but throwing themselves at him and still he was turning into a nervous wreck every time they came within a yard. Still, he'd enjoyed looking 81
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at them, completely entranced at the fact that the world seemed to hold so many pretty girls. He finished his buttons and took a deep breath, steeling himself to go inside and ask for what he really wanted. The gold coin he'd taken from Evan's stash was safely in his pocket. It would be more than enough to pay for a good night. If only he had the nerve to ask. A noise made him jump and his hand was halfway to the gun in his pocket as he whirled round. “Are you Alex?” All he could do was open his mouth and stare. He tried to answer but, even though his mouth was moving, no sound seemed to be coming out. “I've come to wish you 'appy birthday.” “You've what?” Alex found his voice at last, and the girl moved towards him, her half-closed eyes fixed firmly on his face, blonde ringlets bobbing around her head. He tried to move, but he couldn't do that either. Not even when she came nearer, rose up on tiptoe and pressed herself against the length of him. “I've come to wish you 'appy birthday.” Her lips were so close now that he could feel her breath against his face. Her fingertips were slowly sliding up his arms, capturing him and holding him in place. This couldn't really be happening. Not to him. 82
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“It's not my birthday,” he managed to choke out, backing up against the stable door. She followed, her heavy perfume making his nostrils twitch as it engulfed him. Her hands slid down his arms again and he nearly jumped out of his skin as she swept one hand across the front of his trousers to the source of his now considerable discomfort. “Well, we'll just 'ave to pretend it is then, won't we?” she said, squeezing him lightly. He gave a strangled moan, praying that he wouldn’t embarrass himself and come in her hand. An alcoholinduced hallucination. It must be, he thought frantically. Coming towards him was another one. Completely identical and with exactly the same expression on her face. She latched herself on to his side and moved her hand to his shirt. With practised ease she slowly flicked open a button while he watched with startled fascination. Shuddering at the intensely pleasurable sensation of her fingers fluttering over his bare skin. It felt too damned good to be a dream. It was. What other explanation could there be? God, but that beer must have been stronger than he'd thought. He looked from one to the other. Two pretty faces gazed seductively back at him. He closed his eyes briefly to see if they'd disappear. When he reopened them they were still there, and still doing those things with their hands. “Who are you?” he said, still not believing his eyes. 83
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Another small moan escaped him as a pair of soft lips latched on to the side of his neck. The lips kissed their way to his ear and he felt a gentle nibbling. Warm and insistent, the tongue swept around the shell and his legs turned to water. A whispered voice made shivers race up his spine. “Relax, Alex, we're your present.”
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Chapter 29 Damien tossed and turned for most of the night. The lumpy bed and hard pillows combined with thoughts of meeting Mr Gill the next morning all conspired to keep him wide awake. Would the lawyer have the news they'd been waiting for? Something they could use to exert pressure on Crosbie? He fervently hoped they could find a sane solution to this problem. If they simply ran away there was always the chance that Crosbie would find them, and their life would never be their own. Damien tried not to think that far ahead as his mind turned to the events of earlier. What on earth had possessed him to kiss that girl? And need he tell Lissa? Now he understood why she'd kept all those secrets from him at the mansion. But then he remembered how much, despite her best intentions, her dishonesty had hurt him. If he told why he’d done it, surely she would forgive him? He held his breath as footsteps sounded outside his door, hoping that it wouldn’t be Jake. The man had proved almost impossible to get rid of, insisting on performing his valet duties despite Damien's protests that he could undress himself. He’d promised to return in the morning to arrange a bath. Damien had locked the door firmly after him wishing that he had more experience of the world. At this rate he was going to be taken for a fool by everyone he bumped into. 85
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He rearranged his pillows yet again. Unable to get comfortable, he gave up. Rising from the bed he slipped into his clothes and moved to the window. The courtyard behind the inn was bathed in the pale dawn light and a few birds had started their morning chorus. He sat on the window seat, leaned his cheek against the glass and listened to the unusual sound. Birds never seemed to sing at the mansion, at least he’d never noticed them if they did. There was so much he didn't know. So much he hadn't seen and now he wanted desperately to see it all. Every corner of this beautiful land. Then Europe, perhaps, on the grand tour. Aunt Joan had already promised that she could spirit them all away to America if their plans failed. She had contacts in various States who would help them start a new life. Damien prayed it wouldn’t come to that. He was done with hiding. Mr Gill must have something for them today, he must. Damien looked out through the leaded pane at the brightening sky. He needed to go out more, he decided. Find out just how bad this affliction of his really was. Properly covered, he might even be able to live a somewhat normal life. Shame weighed him down when he remembered the young man who would sit angrily in the sun daring it to burn him, while Flora cried hysterically for him to go inside. Lissa had brought balance to his life, so much that his old self seemed like someone else entirely. They'd all been so lost. He leaned away from the gathering light and pulled his jacket around him against the chill of the morning, turning his thoughts to the woman who'd changed his 86
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life. Would she still be the Lissa he’d fallen in love with, or had she reverted to Miss Alicia Stanton now she was back in the world? He'd called her Alicia the night he'd been so angry with her and Alicia was a stranger, he realised. It hurt to think that he'd been so cruel to her when she'd begged for his understanding. He vowed to spend the rest of his life making it up to her. They would have to start again, only this time they wouldn't have the freedom they'd had at the mansion. They'd have to play by society's rules, which meant he'd have to marry her as soon as possible. He couldn’t imagine being near her and not wanting to bed her. That thought reminded him of Alex and the business he'd planned in Plymouth. Thank goodness they'd come here instead. At least here Alex was safe from disreputable ladies of the night. **** Disreputable ones, yes – as, fortunately for Alex , Warren and Jake had at least taken the trouble to find him a woman who wasn't going to give him the pox or come chasing after him, saying he was the father of her child. She'd rather surprisingly taken care of that aspect for him, all the while giving him a night he'd remember for the rest of his life. Alex struggled upright, scratched his head and wondered where his clothes were. Waking up in a hayloft wasn't that unusual; he'd done it often enough at the mansion when he was hiding from Evan. But this? He felt twenty feet tall and had started grinning the moment he'd opened his eyes and remembered.
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A real man at last, he thought, shaking the straw out of his shirt. In truth he had been a little too drunk to appreciate it fully, and the woman had rather overwhelmed him with her knowledge and skill. She seemed to have been everywhere at once with her hands and mouth all over his body. Doing all those things he’d only ever seen in the lewd books at the mansion, and in his wildest dreams. All he’d been required to do was lie there and enjoy it. He found his trousers and pulled them on. The most important thing was that now he could look Damien in the eye as an equal and stop being so envious of him. He’d woken up smiling, so it must have been good. He looked around for his boots, remembering how warm and soft the woman had felt in his arms. Sweet lips and hands that knew just where and how to touch. A voice that had made his insides melt. It would have been nice, though, to wake up with her and perhaps do it all over again. Much as he’d enjoyed it, he couldn't help thinking, as he dressed, that there seemed to be something missing. Finger-combing his hair, he tried to make himself presentable before going down to find Damien. What Mr. Gill said today was important. Everyone's future depended on what happened in the next few weeks and he wanted to be part of that. As he climbed down the ladder the slightly hollow feeling, that had started to displace the euphoria he'd felt on first waking, increased. It wasn't regret; he was glad to have grown up at last. More that he'd always imagined something like Damien had with Lissa. Always thought this would be part of a great love affair. He laughed to himself as he pushed open the door to the bar. How strangely in keeping with his life so far. Hadn't 88
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women always abandoned him? His mother had been cold and distant. He’d failed to persuade Lissa to stay. Why should this be any different? Loving was a complicated business. I must be more careful, he thought as he spotted Damien sitting in the booth they’d occupied the previous evening. It seemed so easy break your heart over a woman. He slid along the bench seat, understanding for the first time how much Lissa's leaving might have hurt his cousin. They needed to get her back. Then at least one of them could be happy. **** Alicia ushered her cousin into the sun-room overlooking the rose garden. “Was that Dana I saw coming in with you?” I was hoping you'd come alone so we could talk.” Wendy dropped into one of the wicker sofas and propped her feet onto a stool. “Yes, it was. I'm sorry. I called at your house this morning to return some books Oswald borrowed from your library and she absolutely insisted on coming to Shell Bay House with me. She intends to ask Aunt Joan if she can stay here for a while. Apparently your papa has been making noises about marrying her off too.” “Dana is far too young to be married.” Alicia sat opposite Wendy and mirrored her position, comfortably sprawled out and feet propped up. She sighed and shook her head. “My father becomes more outrageous by the day. I won't be sorry to leave here for good. We must take Dana with us, although I cannot imagine what a fuss that will cause.” 89
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“Do you truly think it will happen, cousin? Damien will really come for you?” “I have no doubt of it, Wendy. He will come. It's the manner of our leaving that worries me.” “Dana talked of nothing else but the heroic rescue she's expecting will happen any day now.” “Ahh, so that's why Dana wants to be here. I sincerely hope there won’t be anything of the sort. It worries me to death that Damien and Alex will do something foolish and get themselves hurt, or worse.” “But you must get away, Alicia. From what you've told me, life with Crosbie would be quite unbearable. I'm sad to think you must go, though. I would have liked you to have been here for the birth of the baby.” Wendy lifted her head, her eyes sparkling. “Oh Alicia, you should have seen Oswald's face when I told him the news. He was so happy, then he immediately made me lie down on the couch. I am under strict instructions to put my feet up whenever I can.” “Aunt Joan said the same to me. You deserve your happiness, Wendy. I hope you will be able to visit us, wherever we end up.” “I hope so too. What did you just say, Alicia?” “That I hope you will be able to visit us wherever we end up.” Wendy sat up, a puzzled expression on her face. “No, before that.”
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“Oh.” Alicia suddenly realised what she'd let slip, quite spontaneously. She pulled herself up too. “Have I shocked you?” Alicia thought she might have – her cousin took a long moment to answer. Eventually Wendy leaned over and took her hand. “No, no, you haven't. But this does make it more imperative that you get away from Crosbie. I'm just sad that we won't be able to go through this together. Here, let me hug you.” Wendy rose from her chair and folded Alicia in a hug. “Are you pleased? If you are, then I am too. So this is why you've been so sick. Do you know when it's due? Alicia let out the breath she'd been holding, grateful for her cousin's support. “Thank you, Wendy. I knew you'd understand. Don't tell Dana yet; you know how she is with secrets. Aunt Joan thinks it may be due late next spring. I am pleased because of the connection to Damien but it is a little frightening, is it not? I have no idea how these things work. Do you?” “I've never attended a birth. It should all come quite naturally, I think.” Alicia settled back in her chair, contemplating the ceiling. Wendy did the same. For a few moments they sat in silence. “I heard a woman giving birth in America. It sounded very painful.” 91
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“From what I've heard, I think it may be, Alicia. Babies are nothing short of a miracle, are they not?” It was a few moments before Alicia answered her cousin. What she hadn't told her was that the woman in America had died soon after the birth, and the baby had followed her an hour later. All of Damien's brothers and sisters had died in infancy and her own mother had lost two babies before they'd even had a chance to be born. Childbirth was a risky business, although it seemed a woman's lot to have to endure it. There was nothing she could do about that. “It will be. I wish it were men who had the babies.” “Can you imagine what a fuss they would make?” They both laughed again as Dana entered the sunroom at her usual breakneck speed. “Aunt Joan says I can stay. Oh, Alicia, Papa was talking of finding me a husband. You are going to take me with you when you go, aren't you? Otherwise I shall run away like you did. I shall. I don't want to marry anyone Papa chooses, and I’m far too young. In fact I don't want to marry anyone at all...” She stopped to draw breath, looking from one to the other as they lay back in their chairs. “What is it?” she said, folding her arms. “Have I missed something?” “No Dana; we were just relaxing, that's all.” Alicia motioned her down, hoping that Wendy wouldn't say anything about her baby as she didn't want Dana to 92
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make any connections to herself. Dana could be quite astute and it was virtually impossible to keep secrets from her. “Do sit down. Watching you rush about is quite exhausting.” Dana flopped into a chair, lay still for a few seconds, then sat upright. “Tell me about Damien and Alex again. When are we going to meet them?” “I don't know, Dana. I really have told you everything. Will Papa mind you staying here?” “I don't care if he does. Aunt Joan must tell him I'm too young to marry. Come on. I know you didn't tell us everything about Damien and Alex. Describe them again, please.” “Oh, Dana, you'll give us no rest. All right, what do you want to know?” “Are they alike?” “Not really, Damien is very fair-haired and his eyes are blue. He has fine features. In some ways he is very shy, and in others not.” Wendy, who had had her eyes closed, opened them and joined in the conversation. “I do believe she wants to hear about Alex. Am I right, Dana? I saw how your face lit up when we were talking about him yesterday.” Dana blushed furiously at Wendy's words, shook her head and opened her mouth to speak. Alicia got in first.
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“Dana, you are not to be getting romantic ideas about Alex. The poor boy has been through a traumatic time, and he is very innocent of the world and everything in it, as is Damien. Don’t scare him when you meet him. He is also much older than you. Why, you said yourself that you are too young to marry.” “I do not want to marry Alex. I did not say that.” Dana grabbed a cushion and covered her blushing face. “It was an innocent question,” she said, her voice muffled. “I’m curious, that's all. And why is it always all right for you to have fun, but not me?” “Calm yourself, Dana. I can see how your mind is working. Just remember that Alex has been through a very hard time. There are yet things that you know nothing about.” “What things?” “I can't tell you everything, Dana. Content yourself with what you know for now and give the poor lad some space to breathe.” “You didn't give Damien breathing space, as you call it.” “That was different.” “It always is with you, Lissa.” “Dana…” Dana put down her cushion and recomposed herself, breaking out into a grin; she never could stay cross for long.
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“So Alex has dark hair, has he not? And dark eyes? I do so love a man with dark hair and dark eyes.” Alicia looked despairingly at Wendy They both burst into laughter. “Resign yourself to it, Alicia.” Wendy swung herself into an upright position as a maid came in to see if they needed anything. “He doesn't stand a chance.” **** There was a private room just off the main bar where Damien and Alex were to speak with Mr Gill, but for now they sat in the public room, eating their breakfast, both of them awaiting his arrival somewhat anxiously. “So what happened after I retired last night? Anything exciting?” Damien filled his mouth with food as he spoke, mumbling the last part around the most delicious bacon he'd ever tasted. All this wonderful food was something else he was discovering about the outside world. Alex shook his head and started on his own breakfast. Damien swallowed and continued. “Because you look as if you've been dragged through a hedge backwards. Your buttons are all wrong.” Alex looked down at his strangely-buttoned shirt and shrugged. “Got a bit drunk, that's all. When's 'e coming?”
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“At nine o'clock. You really need to make yourself presentable if you want to be there, Alex. We want to be taken seriously.” Alex dropped his fork and fingered the buttons, looking a little surprised that he'd made such a mess of it. “Well, you don't look any better,” he said, re-buttoning as he spoke. “Couldn't you find a better jacket than that?” Damien looked down at his jacket in dismay. It was one thing for Lady Carlington to notice such things, for she would know the height of fashion, but for Alex to comment - then it must be bad. And it only added to the lack of confidence he was feeling over this meeting. He felt in his pocket for the list of things he needed to discuss and hoped he'd remembered everything. As he ate the rest of his breakfast, he thought about the most important thing of all. That of obtaining a Special Licence so that he and Lissa could be married at a time to suit themselves. It was considerably more costly than the usual route, but Lady Carlington had assured him that it was quite the done thing. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone coughing. Looking up, he saw a smartly-dressed gentleman with a pair of spectacles perched on his nose, and clutching a sheaf of papers. Alex stared at him, all the while chewing vigorously, while Damien nearly overturned his chair standing up to greet him. “Mr Gill?” Damien extended his hand. “I am his clerk.” The man took off his glasses and folded them into his pocket. “Tell Lord Rossendale that Mr. Gill will see him now.”
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Alex stopped in mid-chew. Damien opened his mouth. Before he could speak the clerk continued. “Don't just stand there like a buffoon. Go and fetch your master.” “I am Lord Rossendale.” Damien managed to blurt out at last. The clerk narrowed his eyes. Damien stood to his full height, hands behind his back, attempting to appear more confident that he felt. The clerk was unnaturally tall, and was now scrutinising his clothing with a look that almost amounted to disgust. “I'm very eccentric. And I don't like modern clothes. Do we, Alex? We're both…very eccentric.” Alex added weight to his argument by mumbling something totally incomprehensible and spitting his mouthful all over the front of his shirt. Fortunately, Mr. Gill himself chose that moment to make his appearance, and, to Damien's relief, he seemed to know exactly who they were. “Lord Rossendale,” he said, smiling and holding out his hand. “Lady Carlington has told me all about you. And you must be Alex Lucius. So very pleased to meet you both. Have you finished breakfasting?” “Yes, we have.” Damien glanced at Alex, who was scrubbing self-consciously at the front of his shirt. The clerk sniffed. “Thank you, Johnson, you may go to breakfast now. I'll deal with this now. Splendid,” Mr Gill declared and indicated for them to follow him. When they reached the 97
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private room he opened the door and ushered them inside. “I hope you don't mind me having breakfast while we talk, I didn't have time earlier, and I may have some good news for you. Do go in, I won't be a moment. Ahh, Rosie, could you bring me something to eat, my dear, and perhaps some fresh coffee for us all. Would that be acceptable, gentlemen?” “It would be, Mr. Gill, and thank you for seeing us,” Damien replied, wondering why the waitress was waving at him as she turned to go, and why Alex’s face had suddenly turned so red. Then he realised that she wasn't waving at him, but at Alex, whose eyes were now the size of saucers. “Shall we begin?” Mr Gill arranged the three of them around the table and opened his leather case. He passed a sheet of paper across to Damien and then took one out for Alex. “You'll be very interested in these. We've been following the Reverend Crosbie's activities very closely in the past few weeks.” Damien glanced over the paper,reading through the eyewitness accounts of Crosbie's various secret engagements. The documents didn't look very official. Shouldn't there be signatures and stamps? Alex continued to stare at the door, his own paper hanging loosely in his hand. When the door opened he immediately dropped his gaze and stared at the paper in earnest. The waitress entered and placed a tray of food on the table. She was followed by a second waitress, 98
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who brought some more of the wonderful coffee that Damien had had earlier. Damien had never seen twins before. He'd heard of them, of course, but these two girls were so identical that they could be the same person. He couldn't help staring at them as Alex was now doing. Mr Gill gave a small laugh. “Almost impossible to tell them apart, isn't it? Thank you, Rosie. Thank you, Betsy,” he said, slipping them a coin each. “Now, where were we?” “This list,” Damien pointed to the names. “I see you have a lot of information, but how official is it? Can we use it to exert pressure on Crosbie?” “Not yet, unfortunately. But don't lose heart,” Mr. Gill added. “Several of the witnesses have indicated that they only need a little more incentive to gain their cooperation. Shall I pour the coffee?” Damien accepted the cup and placed it down in front of him. “Do you mean money, Mr Gill? Because I have money. Tell them I can pay in gold coins. Who are these people?” Mr Gill handed Alex a cup, then took off his glasses and polished them. “They are a mixture. Servants and such who witness these things and hear gossip. We've also been lucky enough to track down several people who bear Crosbie quite a grudge. It seems Alicia is not the first woman he's managed to intimidate.” “That doesn't surprise me,” Damien replied, his face hardening as it always did when Crosbie and Alicia were mentioned in the same breath. “How much will it take?” 99
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“The servants won't be too costly, although their word won't carry too much weight, as they are notorious gossips by profession and Crosbie will use that to deny everything. The family of this particular girl are another matter. They want their revenge, but it would also involve them in a considerable scandal if it were all to come out. You can see their predicament?” “It won't come out. Surely just the threat of it will see Crosbie off? He'll want it kept as quiet as they do.” Mr Gill started on his breakfast, waving his fork in the air for emphasis. “In theory, yes, but what if Crosbie calls your bluff? Then you'll have to expose him publicly, and the girl's family wouldn't stand for it. She was rather a willing participant in their liaison…at first. So I believe, anyway.” “Let me visit her. I'll plead with her, do anything. Surely when she hears what has happened she will want to help us?” Damien stood up, then sat down again, at a loss for what to do next. This was all most frustrating. So near, and yet so far. Mr Gill took a few more papers from his bag and pushed them across the table. “These will please you. Your holdings in Rossendale and Manchester. We've also managed to track down several other properties held in your father's name and that of one Evan Lucius, your father's half-brother. You have three copper mines in Cornwall, and a villa in Tuscany. Did you know about that? You are a very wealthy man indeed. The rents from your tenanted holdings alone are worth a considerable amount, and the cotton mills are making enormous profits. They don't call Manchester 100
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King Cotton for nothing. Then there are the stocks and bonds. I believe you have some things to show me?” For a moment, all Damien could do was stare at the lawyer, who was now tucking into his breakfast with relish. It was too much to take in at once. “Evan lives at the mansion. Is that correct?” Damien glanced at Alex who returned a look of considerable alarm. “He did, but we haven't seen him for a long time; have we, Alex?” Alex shook his head, still looking terrified. Damien mentally willed him to keep a steady nerve. There was nothing to connect them to Evan's disappearance, and he needed it left that way. He wanted to ask Mr Gill how much Evan had stolen from him over the years, but that would probably prompt more questions about Evan's whereabouts so he kept quiet. “And does Evan have any heirs?” “Me.” Damien groaned inwardly when Alex chose to speak up. Mr Gill looked at him with interest. “He was your father?” “Yes, but we didn't get on. Never saw 'im much.” “Alex's mother and father weren't married. Does that still make him Evan's heir?” 101
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“If there were no legitimate offspring. Have you reason to believe he's dead?” “No, not at all.” Time to change the subject, Damien thought. The less said about Evan, the better. He indicated the papers he'd brought with him from the mansion. “Can you sort all these out for me? My father left his affairs in rather a muddle, I fear, and I have no idea what they all mean.” “Of course, of course. More coffee, anyone?” Mr Gill held up the pot, smiling at them. It seemed that the question of Evan was closed for the moment. Then Damien had a sudden thought. “Mr Gill, do you think it would be proper for Alicia to visit the young lady? Perhaps as one woman to another she may be willing to help?” Mr Gill thought about it for a moment, took a sip of his coffee and placed the cup down. “It's an idea worth considering. Do you think she would?” “I'm sure of it. Could you make the arrangements? And once this is all settled we'll be getting married. How do I go about obtaining a special licence?” Damien had to take a couple of steadying breaths at this point, as his heart still hadn't slowed down from the shock of Mr Gill asking about Evan. If anyone could persuade this girl to make a statement, it would be Lissa. Thankfully, Mr. Gill started gathering up his papers, almost as if he realised that Damien had taken in as 102
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much as he could at present. Damien was greatly relieved. “Why don't we stop here and let me take everything on to the next stage? I'll make the arrangements for the licence,” he said finishing up his coffee and rising from his chair. “It's been a pleasure meeting you both. I wish you well, Damien, Alex. Can I contact you at Shell Bay House?” “You can, Mr Gill, and thank you.” Damien shook hands and watched Alex do the same. Alex had the shadow of the noose hanging over his head as much as Lissa had thought she did. Damien remembered what a burden that had been for her to bear. As they left the room he put his hand on Alex's shoulder and gave it a squeeze in what he hoped would be interpreted as a gesture of solidarity. It earned him a strange look, but he felt better for having done it. They all needed to look out for each other. Just as he'd vowed to protect Lissa, he knew that he'd do the same for Alex if needed. His cousin seemed in an odd mood this morning. Even more so than usual. He had a melancholy air about him that he hadn't had last night when he'd been happily getting drunk with Warren and Jake. Perhaps it’s just the strangeness of being away from the mansion? Damien was feeling it too. He didn't particularly like the place but it was the only home he'd know and he couldn't help feeling attached to it. It was only natural, he supposed, as they made their way across the bar to where Warren, Jake and now Jonathan were waiting for them. If Jonathan was back they may as well return home. Their business here was done for the time being. The sooner they arrived home, the sooner they could arrange a visit to Shell Bay House. 103
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The chance of coming face to face with Crosbie was a risk he'd have to take. Worth it if it meant he could see Lissa again. As they traversed the room, Alex stopped suddenly and stared at the twins, who were busy clearing tables. He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. “Bloody ‘ell, they're twins.” “Of course they are, Alex. We've already established that.” Damien stopped too, and stared appreciatively across the room at the pretty young women. It didn't hurt to look, did it? He flicked a glance at the three men at the bar who were watching their progress, Warren and Jake both with huge grins on their faces. “Am I missing something here?” He turned his attention back to Alex, who was now looking dreadfully puzzled and rather uncomfortable. “What is it?” “Those two girls are twins.” “And very pretty ones, too. Come on, Alex, enough of this. We need to get home.” Damien continued across the bar while Alex stayed where he was, still staring at the girls. Warren and Jake were laughing out loud now. The three men all turned back to the bar when they saw him looking, and he wondered if it was perhaps his and Alex’s old-fashioned clothes that were causing such jollity. Lady Carlington had mentioned new clothes, and also dancing lessons, as he remembered. The clothes he was looking forward to. The dancing was another matter. He couldn't ever imagine himself dancing in front of anyone, and felt foolish just thinking about it. 104
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**** “He's seen them. Oh, my God, look at his face.” “Will you be quiet, Warren. They'll hear you. What've you two been up to while I've been gone?” “Keep your hair on, Jonathan, t'was only a bit of fun.” Warren looked across the room. He turned back to the bar when he saw Damien watching him. “Got the poor boy laid, that's all.” His comment was met by another round of sniggering. Jonathan looked at his companions, horrified. “You two will get us all dismissed. What will Lady Carlington say?” “She 'aint going to 'ear about it,” Jake replied. “Pretty lad, 'aint 'e?” “Who, Alex?” Warren sneaked another glance at Alex, who was still staring, dumbstruck, at the twins. “Not your type, surely?” “Not ‘im. Damien. Thought you said 'e’d be up for it. Nearly bit me 'ead off last night.” Warren could barely contain his laughter at this point. “You were supposed…” he said in between guffaws, “…to find him in bed with Margaret. She says he wasn't interested.” At that point Jake gave him a shove that knocked him clean off his stool. Warren looked up at him from the floor, still laughing. 105
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“Will you be quiet! He's coming over.” Jonathan grabbed Warren's arm and pulled him upright. “Show a little respect. I do not want to lose my job.” “Calm down, shorty. I'll be respectful. Bloody strange, though. Never known a young man of his class to refuse a woman before – unless he’s your way inclined. He winked at Jake. Procuring women was part of my job with my last employer.” They all stood hastily as Damien finally reached them. Jonathan shot a warning look to his two companions and stepped forward. “Lady Carlington asks if you'd both like to go straight to Shell Bay House on your return, M'Lord. I could fetch Flora and the ladies tomorrow, and she can bring any other things you might need for your stay. Would that be acceptable to you?” **** Damien didn't notice that Warren was still grinning belligerently as he stood before him. Neither did he see Jake blatantly looking him up and down. Or Jonathan glaring at his two companions. All he could see was Lissa - of course he wanted to go straight to Shell Bay House. His hands started shaking as he realised he'd be seeing her again in just a few hours. He had shoved them into his pockets so the three men in front of him wouldn't see the effect this was having on him. The one thing he'd dreamed about over and over during the past few weeks. Why then did it suddenly fill him with fear? He mumbled his approval for the plan and left to pack his bag, refusing Jake's offer of help. Alex seemed at 106
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least to understand the importance of what was happening. When Damien told him where they were going, he snapped out of his daze and fell in step with him. Neither of them spoke as they climbed the stairs, each of them contemplating what was to come. The final stage of this strange journey that had started with a chance encounter on a moonlit road. The night that had changed all of their lives. A story that had a beginning and a middle, but as yet no ending. Outside their rooms Alex made the same gesture that Damien had made to him earlier, gripping his shoulder and looking him straight in the eye. Damien nodded briefly and they went their separate ways to pack their things. Although the end was in sight, the destination was, as yet, unclear. The future still shrouded in uncertainty. They can have it all, Damien thought, as he threw his few things into the bag. The house, the money, the title. None of it mattered. All he wanted was Lissa. He’d do whatever it took. Picking picked up the bag, he breathed deeply and opened the door. There was only one acceptable end to this story. They'd be together - he knew that much. How and where he didn't know. But he was, it seemed, about to find out. **** Alicia lay drowsily against the comforter, listening to the birdsong as she awoke. She'd dreamed about her first morning at the mansion and how she'd woken up to find Damien sleeping in Flora's rocking chair. Such a brief time in her life - it had lasted barely a matter of months - yet all her dreams seemed to be centred on Damien and Alex, Flora and Evan. And, of course, Crosbie. 107
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Sometimes when she woke up she thought she was still there, and it was always the birdsong that first told her she wasn't. Birds never seemed to sing outside the window at the mansion. She'd hear them before she opened her eyes and could see for herself that all her happy dreams were now past memories. The thought of those happy times at the mansion invoked such a longing to have them back that she always awoke to tears, as reality chased away the fragments she tried so desperately to hang on to. She rolled her head sideways as the tears fell unchecked, and saw him sitting in a chair beside the bed. The tears blurring her focus. For a moment she thought she must still be dreaming, but his hair was all wrong, much shorter than that first morning, and his clothes different. Was this a new dream? Perhaps the longing had become so strong that she was now conjuring up ghosts? “Damien?” She said it softly, as if he might disappear if she spoke too loudly. “Lissa.” He replied equally as softly. Yes, his voice, but even when she'd heard it, she still couldn't believe he was really there. She held out her arms to him, and sighed when he moved into them. Warm and solid, he felt real enough as his arm moved around her back and he shifted up beside her. One hand went to her hair, stroking and soothing as she rested her head on his chest, pressing herself against him so she could listen to his heartbeat. “I've missed you.” 108
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She heard the break in his voice, not daring to look at him again. Not yet. She just needed to hold on to him at that moment. To absorb some of his warmth and strength and make herself truly believe he'd come for her at last. As she lay in his arms the mists that had clouded their future began to shift and thin, and for the first time she really believed it might happen. That they would beat Crosbie and live happily ever after. “Oh, Lissa. Lissa…I...I’m sorry… And I have some news. I've seen Mr Gill.” She looked at him then. The man she loved, whose child she was carrying. Reaching up, she pulled him down for a lingering kiss. When they finally broke apart she saw that he was about to continue with what he was saying. With her fingers on his lips, she stopped him. “I have some news too, Damien. May I go first?”
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Chapter 30 “So, Alex, what do you think?” “It's a beauty, Lady C. I’ve never seen such a gun collection.” Alex lifted the gun and sighted. “Bet she fires like a good 'un.” “She does, Alex. We'll organise a shoot, tomorrow perhaps. How did it go with Mr Gill?” Alex put down the gun and picked up another. “Think 'e said 'e’s found some girl Crosbie got involved with. Damien wants Lissa to talk to 'er.” “Hmm, that's a good idea.” Lady Carlington stopped and thought for a moment. “I think I shall host a ball. Would you like to go to a ball, Alex?” “Don't know. Never been to one,” Alex replied, opening the gun and inspecting the inside. “What, with dancing and stuff?” “Yes, Alex.” Lady Carlington folded her arms. “And many pretty girls.” The mention of pretty girls brought a distinct blush to his face, so he snapped the gun closed, pointed it out of the window and changed the subject. “When do we meet this Crosbie person, then?”
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He saw Lady Carlington smile. Thankfully, she didn't ask him the question he'd been dreading. That of the secret business that he'd had planned in Plymouth. “I've tried to discourage any visits of his here, but I will invite him to the ball. Then you and Damien can get the measure of him. Don't underestimate him. He's sly, and clever, and has my brother in his pocket.” She walked over to Alex and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Enjoy your stay here, Alex, but be on your guard. None of the servants must suspect your connection to Alicia. If Crosbie were to find out he might bring the wedding forward, or something worse.” “Right you are, Lady C. Want me to talk to Damien?” “Please. I'll talk to him too. He's with her now. They must be careful to act as if they've just met. What we do in the next few weeks will be very important. I will see you all safe in this.” “Damien don't want to go to America. Know that for a fact.” “He may not have a choice, Alex. Rest assured, I'll shoot Crosbie myself before he marries Alicia. He will not win this one.” “And I'll be right there beside you, Lady C.” Alex sighted again and fired off an imaginary shot. “Right between the eyes.” As he put down the gun he realised that it was the first time he'd seen Lady Carlington with something other than her usual amused expression. To see her so serious was rather unnerving. 111
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“Leave it to me, Lady C. Got nothing to lose. I'll sort it if I 'ave to.” She looked back at him, rather wearily shaking her head. “No, Alex, it was just a figure of speech. We'll stay within the law and hope that Mr. Gill will come up trumps for us. You must promise me you'll not do anything rash.” Alex walked back over to the gun cabinet and took out a pistol. “Is there somewhere I can 'ave a go with this?” “Of course. I'll talk to the gamekeeper. He'll show you where you can safely shoot. Oh, and I've a tailor coming tomorrow to measure you up for those new clothes I talked about. Are you listening, Alex?” “I did 'ear you, Lady C. Won't be shooting anyone.” She nodded and left the room, muttering about balls and arrangements thereof. Alex held up the pistol and cocked the hammer. “Don't worry. Won't be shooting anyone. Unless they deserve it, that is.” He said it softly, under his breath. Gently squeezing the trigger, he tried to conjure up an image of Crosbie. Would he be able to shoot anyone in cold blood? Evan’s death seemed somehow different. This could well lead to the gallows. Lost in thought, he was vaguely aware of someone appearing in the doorway. He blinked and found himself face-to-ace with a young lady with long brown hair and a rather startled expression. He heard a small shriek, saw her eyes drop to the gun which he was pointing straight 112
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at her, then she disappeared just as abruptly as she'd appeared. For a few seconds he stared at the now-empty doorway, wondering if he'd imagined her. He definitely remembered her making a noise. And she'd looked scared to death. He cursed under his breath, berating himself for pointing the gun as he had in the house, and moved quickly to the door. It was his turn to jump when he almost bumped into her. For a while they simply stared at each other. He hastily hid the gun behind his back, not wanting to scare her further, and desperately racked his brain for something coherent to say to this vaguely familiar, and very attractive, young girl who seemed to be recovering her composure far quicker than he was. “Are you Alex?” “Was last time I looked.” He cringed inwardly as the words came tumbling out. She seemed to find his reply amusing, however, and stepped away from the wall. “You made me jump.” “Sorry…didn't mean to scare you.” He realised that he was still peering round the door, so he straightened up and stepped out into the hall. The girl now had a decided twinkle in her eye, as if she were thoroughly enjoying having him at such a disadvantage. “I'm Dana.” She bobbed him a little curtsey. Alex couldn't remember what Lady Carlington had said you were supposed to do 113
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on meeting a young lady, so he slipped the gun into his pocket and extended his hand, as he'd seen Damien do. “I've 'eard about you.” She shook hands with him, looking slightly bemused at the gesture, as if no-one had ever shaken her hand before. “And I've heard a lot about you,” she said, eyeing the pocket containing the gun. “Will you teach me to shoot? Lissa says you're an expert shot and you taught her. So will you teach me, please? It's not fair, you know. Aunt Joan never lets me use a gun. She says I'm not old enough. You think I look old enough, don't you? And you didn't scare me just now, you merely made me jump. There's quite a difference, you know. I don't scare that easily.” She paused to draw breath at last, cocked her head and raised her eyebrows, indicating that she required an answer. She was Dana? That's why she looked so familiar. She was a little like a taller, brown-haired version of Lissa, he thought, knowing that he ought to answer her, but not being able to remember a single thing she'd just said. He pushed back his hair, wishing he'd combed it, and wondering what kind of fool he must look standing there and gawking at her as he was. Her smile was starting to waver a little as she waited for his reply. He couldn't for the life of him think of anything sensible to say in return. She looked down then, as if realising she’d thoroughly overstepped the mark with her outburst, appearing, he thought, utterly charming as self-consciousness overtook her. 114
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“Aren't you going to speak to me?” she said, inspecting her feet closely. Alex closed his eyes briefly, thinking that it was up to him to rescue her from this predicament, and to his relief, a few words formed themselves into a coherent sentence. To his surprise, he actually managed to articulate them too. “Er, what was that first bit again?” **** “You are pleased, Damien?” “Of course I am, my love.” He snuggled her closer, not daring to tell her just how overwhelming the news had been. In the last few weeks life seemed to have been hitting him hard from every direction, each blow changing him a little more until he hardly recognised himself. Shy, reclusive Damien was disappearing fast as the burdens and responsibilities of the real world intruded on his formerly eventless life. And now he was to be a father. Lissa lay very still against him, almost as if she were afraid of what he was going to say next. He knew he should say something, but at that moment he couldn't seem to find the words to express what this meant to him. He needed to try, though. She was waiting for reassurance. Waiting for him to tell her that everything was going to be all right. How could he say that with any certainty? 115
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“Because you've been very quiet since I told you.” “I know, and I'm sorry. It's just hard finding the words to tell you how I feel about it.” “Oh.” He felt her fingers tighten on the lapel of his jacket as if she were clinging to him for dear life. He covered her hand with his and gave it a squeeze. “It's almost like a sign, isn't it? That this was all meant to be. God, or whoever is in charge of all this wouldn't have sent us a child if we weren't meant to be together. Would they?” “That's a nice way of looking at it.” Lissa pulled herself up so that she was sitting beside him, and turned his face to hers, framing it with her hands. “I love you, Damien. This child is a gift, yes?” “It is, Lissa. Hell, I'm not handling this very well, am I?” He took her hands in his and looked into her eyes. Eyes that were still clouded with anxiety and reflecting exactly what he was feeling at that moment. “Listen to me, Lissa. I won't pretend that this hasn't been a shock. It would have been in ordinary circumstances, let alone those we find ourselves in. But this baby is the greatest expression of our love. It's something we made between us and it belongs only to us. Do you know how happy that makes me? After being invisible for so long it makes me realise that I do exist after all.” He gave a little laugh then, and leaned over to kiss her.
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“Do you know, in all the time we were sharing a bed, it hardly crossed my mind that this would happen now.” “Flora mentioned children, but I always thought they'd be in the future. It's still rather hard to believe, isn't it?” He cocked his head and looked at her. “You don't look very different. A little thinner, perhaps. How do you feel?” She settled back against him, her body feeling a little more relaxed than before. Her hand slipping inside his jacket, fingers moving over his shirt, making the muscles beneath twitch in anticipation. He sighed and relaxed too as his body responded to her touch. “The sickness is rather unpleasant - it is mainly in the morning. And I feel very tired. In time I will become unpleasantly fat and you will find me terribly unattractive.” “How could I ever do that? I will always want you.” Sitting up, he shrugged off his jacket and let it drop to the floor. He lay down and pulled her back into his arms, completely forgetting his promise to Lady Carlington that he wouldn't stay long in case someone saw or heard him. “Come here, Lissa, let me show you how much I want you, and how much I've missed you.” Rolling her gently onto her back, he propped himself on one elbow so he could look at her properly. “Your hair is always such a mad tangle when you wake up,” he said, fingers combing it away from her face. I'm sorry I shouted at you the night I tried to burn my journal. I didn't want you to see that side of me.” 117
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“And, I'm sorry I left you the way I did. I really thought there was no other way. Let's forgive each other and put it behind us, shall we?” Her face moved against his caressing hand as she spoke, her eyes turning dreamy with desire. A faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips. There they were. All those things about her that drove him to the edge of reason. Making him forget there was a big bad world out there waiting to crush them if they made so much as a false step. Her lush breasts straining at the fastenings of her nightgown. The way her breath caught as he pulled at the ribbons and pushed the thin cotton aside. Her breasts were larger than he remembered, due to the pregnancy, he supposed. He covered one with a trembling hand and kissed his way gently across the other. Moving over her, his mouth tasted her sweetness and her fingers twisted open the buttons of his trousers, releasing him into her hand. As they moved together, he remembered everything she'd ever meant to him. And he forgot, just for a short time, that their future was so much in the balance. Doing this filled his whole world, and there was no room for anything else. She stopped him then, pressing her hands against his chest, the anxious look returning. “You didn't burn it, did you?” “My journal? No, it wouldn't catch. So all my inane wittering has been preserved for posterity.” She settled again, pulling him over her once more. “I'm glad,” she whispered against his cheek. “Shall we hide it 118
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for someone to find in the future? So they'll know how much we loved each other?” “If you wish. Oh Lissa, I've missed making love with you. It won't hurt the baby, will it?” She didn't answer, instead cutting off his question with a kiss that told him exactly how urgent their situation was. She seemed to catch fire beneath him, demanding that he respond in kind, opening herself to him. It was a sweet kind of agony to lose himself in the warmth of her body, and go with her to that special place only the two of them knew. It was hard to come back. Hard to leave the comfort of her soft embrace and watch her expression sadden while he tucked his shirt back into his trousers and made himself presentable again. For one mad moment he'd wanted to leave there and then. Go anywhere. Get as far away as possible. Go back to the mansion, grab the money and take the first ship to America, South America, anywhere as long as it was away from Crosbie. She'd talked him out of such reckless action. And the rather stunned reaction he'd felt on hearing about the baby was being fast replaced by a kind of strength he'd never experienced before. He re-buttoned his trousers, feeling it surging through him and filling him. A continuation of the feeling he'd had when he was packing his bag only that morning. It made his movements more decisive, his step more determined, and when he leaned over to kiss her goodbye she seemed to know it. Her smile told him that she had every faith in him and that she knew he'd keep her and the baby safe. For that he was grateful. Her confidence in him was the one thing 119
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he really needed to get through this. Then he remembered that this meeting had started with him trying to tell her what Mr Gill had found out. “I've got to go, Lissa. Lady Carlington doesn't want anyone suspecting we know each other. I wanted to tell you that Mr. Gill has found a witness. A young lady who hates Crosbie as much as you do. She won't talk, but perhaps if one of us visits her, tries to persuade her to make a statement?” “I'll do it,” Lissa replied without hesitation. “How can she not want to help us when she hears our story?” “If anyone can do it, you can. I must go. Lady Carlington will be wondering what's keeping me.” Lissa slid from the bed and held out her arms for one last embrace. “She'll know exactly what's keeping you. It's going to be so hard having you here and not being able to do this all the time. Can you visit me tonight, after everyone is in bed?” He gave her one last kiss and turned to unlock the door. “I'll try, but Lady Carlington is right. We can't risk anything at this stage. Let's hope that Mr Gill can persuade this girl to see you. I'm sure Crosbie sees himself as a bishop in the future. He'll never gain that ambition if this becomes public.” “Crosbie, a bishop? Oh, Damien, it doesn't bear thinking about. He'll be even more powerful than he is now. Who knows how many more young women's lives he'll be able to ruin?” 120
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“You can't save them all, Lissa, even though I know you'd try, given the chance.” He gazed one last time into her sad, earnest face then carefully checked the corridor to make sure no one would see him leave her room. “Have courage and let me make this right for you.” He left thinking that she'd never know how important that little nod of agreement she'd just given, was to him. He walked down the stairs, wondering if the baby would be a boy or a girl. Whether it would look like him or her. Whether it would be like him in other ways and inherit his condition. He'd never wanted children for that very reason, but now that it was beyond his control he found himself wanting this one with an intensity that grew by the moment. As was the worry of that other thing he'd always been worried about. The risks of childbirth. He hadn't come this far to lose Lissa to that, surely? An unaccustomed urge to pray overcame him. Fate could be cruel and fickle. He'd read enough stories about it. Prizes dangled tantalisingly in front of you only to be snatched away as you reached for them. A muchdesired goal achieved at the expense of something dear. Motherless children - so many stories about those. He checked himself before his mind ran on any further. Lissa was strong and healthy. Nothing was going to happen to her. They had a long, happy life ahead of them. The thought calmed him as he paused to get his bearings. If success was measured in part by the determination to achieve it, then he would win. Nobody wanted anything more than he wanted this. 121
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**** “Has it been very hard for you this past week, Alicia?” “Having Damien and Alex here and having to pretend I don't know them? Yes, it has been difficult.” Alicia gave her aunt a small smile. “Thank you for putting him in the room next to mine.” “I thought you might appreciate that. As I appreciate the discretion you've both exercised in public. It shows a great degree of maturity.” Alicia moved along the sofa to allow her aunt to sit next to her, mentally willing away the mild waves of nausea that overtook her periodically. Her aunt gave her a sympathetic look. “I'm very pleased with you both. You are going to be very happy together. Damien has passion which is tempered by good sense. And you did not tell me what a fine musician he was. Did you say he is self-taught?” “He is, and plays mostly his own compositions. There wasn't much else to do at the mansion. When will Flora join us?” “She’s refusing to leave the mansion, even though I've sent some trusted retainers to take care of things. Perhaps they will persuade her to change her mind?” “Perhaps.” Alicia thought back to the harsh words she'd exchanged with Flora before Evan's death. “I must make things up with her. She was very good to me when I needed help. Has Mr. Gill contacted you yet?”
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“He has, Alicia. It's not good news, I'm afraid. The girl's family don't want to get involved.” “Oh.” Alicia turned away, not wanting her aunt to see her disappointment. The girl had been their best hope, and now it looked as if America was to be their only option. One she knew Damien wanted desperately to avoid. “Don't lose heart, my dear. Look at me now. Was I ever one to give up?” “You weren't, Aunt. Oh dear, what can we do if she won't co-operate?” Alicia turned back and sighed. “Shall we just leave and take our chances? It would be better for everyone, would it not?” Her aunt gave a little chuckle and patted her hand. “Noone is running away. You didn't let me finish. I said the girl's family didn't want to get involved. The girl herself may be another matter. I'm wondering if it would be possible to go to her direct. Perhaps if she hears it from you she may be able to persuade her family to let her help you? Now, how shall we go about this?” “A visit?” Alicia felt a small surge of hope. “I have it. A small gathering here. Perhaps a luncheon, just for us ladies. What do you think?” “And I could offer to show her the garden, and talk to her?” “I like the way your mind works, my dear. And while you are doing that I shall have a quiet word with her mother. I'll organise it immediately.” 123
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Alicia had a sudden thought. “Surely they won't want to come here knowing my involvement with Crosbie?” “Ahh, that's the beauty, my dear. They don't know. Mr Gill has been most discrete in his enquiries and surprise is always a good tactic. Does this make you feel a little happier?” “It does, Aunt, I just hope she hates Crosbie enough to want to help us. I never want him to be able to do this again.” “Neither do I. Now let us talk about something amusing. Have you seen the way Dana follows Alex everywhere?” “I have, Aunt. The poor lad. It must be very trying to be bothered by a silly young girl all the time.” Aunt Joan arched her eyebrows at that. “Alicia, have you looked at Dana lately? I do not think that Alex sees a silly young girl when he looks at her. And he does look at her.” Alicia frowned. “I can see how she would form an infatuation for him - it's only natural. But she doesn't know the things I do about him. He's had a very sad life and needs someone who...” “You can't have them both, Alicia. Now, don't look at me like that. I do not know what happened at the mansion, although I can understand that you all grew very close. Your protectiveness of him is laudable. Don't you think he deserves the kind of happiness you've found with Damien?”
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“Dana's head is full of such nonsense and Alex is so innocent. He will take it all very seriously and she will leave him broken-hearted.” “I think you underestimate them both. Come here.” Alicia followed her aunt to the window, knowing that she was right. Alex did deserve happiness, and Dana, in the short time since she'd met him, already seemed devoted to him. But she was young, and who knew what might take her fancy in a weeks time? Flora had already broken Alex's heart. Alicia didn't want it happening again. “He's a good man, Alicia. Honest, steadfast and loyal. And perhaps Dana is a little infatuated. He is, after all, very handsome. Look at them - do you not think they would be happy together?” Alicia looked out to the source of the shrieking that had punctuated their conversation. Dana on the swing, Alex pushing her enthusiastically. Every time the swing jolted Dana gave a scream and Alex laughed long and loud. “I should like to see you and Damien laugh like that, my dear.” “Perhaps we will one day. They do look happy, I suppose,” Alicia conceded. “And so will you be. I just know it. Come now, help me to write some invitations for the luncheon, and then you can help me sort out the menu for the ball. So much to do.” Alicia took one last look at Alex and Dana before following her aunt. Playing outside in the sun 125
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something she would never be able to do with Damien. It wasn't Damien's fault, and she'd long ago accepted it would be like this. She couldn’t help the feeling of sadness, though. Seeing him here, in the outside world with all it had to offer, made her realise just what he'd be missing. We must take from life what we can and not fret over the rest. Better to spend precious time counting the blessings, she thought, catching up with her aunt. A man who adored her. A child. And a future together. It was more than enough. “We will remember to be happy, Aunt. Thank you for everything. We'd never had got this far without your help.” “Happy to give it, my dear. Will you be married in Bath? I would love to host the wedding for you.” “Damien has ordered a Special Licence, but he hasn't spoken of where he wants the ceremony to be. I can't imagine he'll want a huge crowd watching him.” “Wherever it is, I want to be there, my dear. Don't go running off in secret like I did.” “Of course we won't. You will be guest of honour. We just need to get there,” Alicia replied, turning serious again. “You will, my dear. The end is in sight. Now, what shall we serve to these ladies? We need to impress, but not overwhelm. This needs to be done just right.” **** 126
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“Thought I'd find you 'ere.” Alex peered round the entrance to the gazebo. He stepped inside. “’Ow's it going, then?” Damien put down his book and nodded at the gun slung over Alex’s shoulder. “All right, I suppose. You've been out shooting again?” “You should see Lady C's gun collection. Best of everything.” Alex slipped the ammunition bag from his shoulder and put down the gun. He sat himself opposite Damien. “What's up? You look glum.” “Nothing…everything. You know how it is?” Alex narrowed his eyes. Damien hadn't looked happy since they'd arrived. He felt a sudden pang of guilt at enjoying himself so much when perhaps he should have been paying more attention to their immediate problem. There didn't seem to be anything useful that any of them could do right now. “You 'eard from Mr. Gill?” “The girl's family won't help so Lissa's going to try and talk to her. Lady Carlington has invited them here tomorrow and Lissa will try to persuade the girl to make a statement for us.” Leaning his head against the window frame as he spoke, he looked with longing at the sunny garden. “I wish I could go outside. I've never felt it this bad before.” Alex shrugged. There wasn't anything he could do about that, and offering sympathy wouldn't do any good either. 127
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He picked up the gun and bag, and stood up, taking a last look at Damien who was still staring determinedly out of the window. They'd never had much to say to each other, particularly when it came to personal matters. Couple of moody buggers, Evan had called them. Where Alex had always been a master at hiding things, Damien never had been able to mask his feelings. It hadn’t made for a happy life. “You said it yourself. If anyone can persuade 'er, Lissa can.” “She's going to have a baby.” “The girl?” “No, Lissa.” “Oh.” Alex sat down again and there was another long silence. Damien still wasn't looking at him, although he seemed to want to talk, so Alex stayed where he was. “Is that good or bad?” “I don't know, Alex. I want it, but it's so bloody dangerous.” “Don't know much about it.” “Women die in childbirth all the time.” “Oh.” He didn't know anything about it. Hadn't had the benefit of Damien's book-learning to find out about these things. He really had no idea what to say. “Bloody ‘ell, a baby, eh? She's 'ealthy enough. Sure she'll be all right.” 128
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Damien nodded, rubbed his eyes and sighed. “It's a complication we didn't need. If something doesn't happen soon, I'm taking her away.” “I'm with you there. Look, let's just go see this Crosbie. Take this with us.” He held up the gun. “This'll persuade 'im.” “I wish we could. The more I learn about the outside world, the more I know that's not an option. Shh, here comes Dana.” Alex looked around as Dana appeared in the entrance. “Lissa's coming so I thought I'd better be here so you're not alone together. Oh hello, Alex.” “Dana.” She gave him a coy smile and sat on the bench with him. “I like your new clothes.” The compliment caused him to blush as he usually did when anyone paid him any attention. He hadn't quite managed to control the stammer that overtook him when he was in the company of pretty young ladies, but at least he was getting to the stage where he could have something approaching a normal conversation with this one. It didn't help that he had nothing interesting to talk about, apart from guns. He knew Dana didn't find them very interesting, even though she pretended to. “You too, Damien. What a handsome pair you make. I'm having a new gown for the ball. Will you be my escort, Alex? Do say you will.”
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“Can't dance.” A sudden panic raced through him at that thought. Dancing was possibly the most alien concept he could bring to mind; the last thing he ever thought he'd find himself doing. “I'll go as long as I don't 'ave to dance.” “I'll teach you. It's not that hard. Well, actually it is, but I'll teach you some simple steps. Can you dance, Damien?” “No, I can't. Did you say Lissa was coming?” “She said she was bringing lemonade. Are you two all right?” They both nodded at the same time. Dana didn't look convinced. “Why do conversations always stop when I arrive? You are still taking me with you when you go, aren't you? You're not going to leave me here, are you? Alex?” She appeared so young and innocent when she looked at him like that. It seemed to touch something deep inside him, although he couldn’t quite work out what. He'd felt it a little with Lissa, although Lissa had never looked at him the way Dana did. She wasn't a helpless female by any means; none of the Stanton women were. Dana was an appealing mixture of woman and child, one minute dazzling him with her wit and knowledge and the next turning her heart-melting, brown-eyed gaze on him and making him want to fight the whole world for her. He wasn't so naïve that he didn't know that part of the reason she seemed so attracted to him was simply because he was there. It was the same for him. She was 130
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pretty and charming. It would have been difficult not to have been attracted to her. He was so thoroughly confused by it all. Perhaps, as Lissa had initially done with Damien, Dana just saw him as a way out of her present life. Was that what all this flattery was about? He gave her a small, lopsided grin in response. Damien nodded. “Of course you must come with us, Dana. Will that cause a big problem with your father?” “Oh, I'm sure he'll make a huge fuss, but I don't care. Are we going to sneak away during the night? I could knot some bed-sheets together. I read about it once, in a story.” “I don't think that will be necessary. When we leave it will be with our heads held high. I'm not sneaking away with my tail between my legs.” She looked disappointed at that, the little girl coming to the fore once more. Alex couldn't help smiling at her. “We must make a dramatic statement, then,” she continued. “White horses. We'll have them waiting at the door and we can all gallop away into the night.” She turned her excited face from one to the other as she elaborated on her plan, then looked rather crestfallen when the two men both started laughing at her. Alex immediately felt contrite. “Don't look sad. We didn't mean to laugh, did we, Damien?” 131
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“We didn't, Dana. I can't ride a horse, and neither can Alex. So you see we wouldn't get far that way, would we?” “I suppose not. We do need a plan, though. You must agree with that?” “I suppose so.” “Amelia and Constance will be at the ball. They’re terrible snobs and I so wanted to do something to make them jealous. The Lucius coach, then. It is the stuff of legends, is it not?” Damien held up his hands. “No, I don't think so, Dana. I want to distance myself as much as possible from those old stories. It's time they were put to rest.” All three of them lapsed into silence. Damien leaned back against the window-frame, looking out for Lissa. Alex sneaked another look at Dana, who was deep in thought, her legs swinging back and forth beneath her long skirts. He wondered what was going on in that mind of hers. Sometimes her thoughts moved so fast, and so randomly, he had difficulty keeping up with her. Perhaps it was no coincidence that all the women he'd met to date were the type who liked to be in charge. He'd already accepted that he would probably spend the rest of his life sitting quietly in the background. When he’d been alone with Dana she'd always done the talking which suited him fine since he had nothing to say. In fact it had been perfect. They'd spent many an hour together, with her prattling on about everything and anything, and to his relief she never pressured him to respond or offer an opinion. 132
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He couldn't remember half of what she talked about. His task was to look as if he were listening. Sometimes he simply looked at her and let the words flow over him while he contemplated the way her nose tilted just at the very tip, or the way she had of flicking her hair over her shoulder to add emphasis to what she was saying. Endearing little traits he was finding quite fascinating. It was like a puzzle, he decided. Every time he thought about it another piece fell in place. But what if he were wrong about all this? Damien had been devastated when Lissa left him, and he didn't want that happening to himself. Dana made him jump when she suddenly snapped out of her contemplation, and called his name. “I have it, Alex! We must wait until Amelia and Constance are watching, then you must sweep me off my feet and carry me out in front of everyone. They will be green with envy. What do you think?” Damien put his hand over his mouth. Alex could see that he was trying to stop himself laughing again. Dana could see it too. She didn't play fair though. Her gaze dropped for a moment, and when she raised her eyes again it was to treat them both to the full force of the damsel in distress look the Stanton women did so well. “I've just said something silly again, haven't I?” “I'm sorry, Dana. I wasn't laughing at you,” Damien said by way of apology. “It's just the thought of Alex making such a gesture. Well, you have to admit, it's amusing.” 133
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They both turned and looked at Alex expectantly, and he found himself bristling a little at Damien's words. It had been all right for him to carry Lissa about that night they'd rescued her, and poor Dana was starting to look very embarrassed about what she'd just said. He wanted to tell her that he'd do it. Sweep her up and carry her out in front of everyone. Like some handsome prince rescuing the beautiful princess in the games they'd played as children. Only Damien had never let him play the hero, and there was his problem. He just didn't see himself as the heroic type. No-one else ever had, either. So that must mean he wasn't. “It would be a very grand gesture,” she said, folding her hands in her lap as she sat demurely beside him, flicking him a small glances while he desperately thought of a way out of this predicament. If he said no, she'd be disappointed. She would be anyway – how would he ever pluck up the courage to do such a thing? And Damien was still smirking at him, eyebrows raised as if challenging him to say yes. “Umm…Dana, I don't…I mean maybe…” Dammit, if only she'd stop looking at him like that, he might have a chance. He'd stood up to Evan, yet this slip of a girl could reduce him to a nervous wreck with just a look. How did women do that? “Oh, thank you Alex.” She was bouncing up and down in her seat now, clapping her hands together and, before he knew it, she slid herself very close and took hold of his arm. “It's going to be so much fun.” 134
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He opened his mouth to try to explain to her that it probably would cause a monumental scandal if they did such a thing. As usual, the words wouldn't come. She wasn't listening anyway. Her mind had already run on and she was now gleefully describing just exactly what shade of green Amelia and Constance were going to turn when she swept by them in his arms. He closed his eyes and let her babble on. Damien had had trouble keeping up with Lissa, and he was a lot brighter and more learned that Alex had ever considered himself to be. Dana was, if anything, more outgoing than Lissa, so what chance did he stand? He opened his eyes and found her gazing at him with a look of such adoration and hero-worship that it quite took him aback. How was he supposed to resist this? He had no experience of the world and precious little of women, and he remembered full well how he’d felt after his dalliance with the twins. It would always be a risk, he realised. Love was a complicated matter, but if you didn't take those risks then you would never know what rewards it might bring. He lifted his hand and tentatively patted Dana’s as it rested on his arm. For all her bravado and chatter she still had a charming air of vulnerability about her, probably because of her youth. She possibly wasn't half as confident as she made out. It was obvious she expected something from him, though. Perhaps he should take that risk? Her head was on his shoulder now, and he held himself very still, not knowing what to do next. Damien stood as Lissa approached, and Dana wriggled herself comfortable, sighing contentedly. And that was how 135
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Lissa found them when she stepped into the gazebo with her lemonade. **** Dana stayed where she was, resting her head against Alex's arm. She'd felt him stiffen as she'd taken hold of him, and knew she was being very forward in doing so. He was so shy that she knew he'd never have initiated such a gesture himself. He'd walked out with her, pushed her on the swing and listened patiently as she'd told him all about herself. She'd even managed to get a few answers out of him when she'd asked him about life at the mansion. But in the past week it hadn't gone anywhere beyond that. All he seemed to see so far was a friend, and she didn't want to be just that. She thought about him all the time. Lay in bed at night and dreamed about him. Her stomach was full of butterflies when he looked at her, so there must be something to all this. She knew she'd been expecting to like him. Wendy hadn't been wrong when she'd teased her about that, and it had been agony waiting to see if he was actually going to be the man she'd pictured him to be. She snuggled a little closer, feeling him jump, and smiled to herself. He simply needed a helping hand that was all. Lissa had given them both a mildly scandalised look when she'd entered the gazebo. Dana realised that had probably made Alex feel uncomfortable. He was close to Lissa and wouldn't want to upset her. She can't have both Damien and him, she thought. It just wasn't fair. She watched Damien take Lissa's hand and sit her down beside him, slipping his arm around her back and pulling her close. It was all very spontaneous, and they did 136
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seem to love each other very much. The small gestures told her how comfortable they were with each other. The way he placed small kisses on the top of her head, her fingers making patterns on his thigh as she rested against him. The way they seemed to be in a world of their own now that they were together. Suddenly she felt like an intruder. She stood and slipped her hand into Alex's, pulling him out of his seat and gesturing to the entrance with a tilt of her head. His initial confusion turned to understanding when she motioned towards the lovebirds at the other side of the gazebo. He nodded, looking back at the gun. When she shook her head he left the gun where it was and followed her out into the sunshine. There they stood together, still holding hands, neither of them speaking. She'd already decided to leave the next move up to him, and waited. After a few minutes of standing in silence she was, as usual, the first one to speak. “They look very happy together, don't they?” “They do.” “So that must mean they are happy?” “Reckon so. I should fetch the gun.” “Damien will take it back. Are you happy, Alex?” He frowned, which was not the response she'd been expecting. “What kind of question is that?” “A perfectly simple one. Are you happy?” 137
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“S'pose so. Are you?” “I am, Alex; I'm very happy. Do you know why?” “No.” He favoured her with one of his puzzled looks, as if he had no idea what she was talking about. She dropped his hand and turned to him. “Do I have to spell this out to you?” “You want me to spell something? I told you, I can't read.” “Goodness, Alex. You can't be this dim. You just can't.” She turned her back on him to hide the frustration that probably showed all too plainly on her face. How could he be this blind to what was happening between them? When she turned back to him he'd stuffed his hands in his pockets and had a wary look on his face. The way he might look at someone who'd gone a little mad. Well, she thought, making up her mind. It’s now or never. She'd never been very patient and Alex struck her as the type who might, quite happily, sit and wait a whole lifetime for something if he had to. Drastic action was needed, or this would-be relationship was going nowhere. “Listen carefully, Alex,” she said, turning around slowly, trying to look determined but not too overbearing. “I am going to run away now, and hide somewhere in the grounds.” She batted her eyelashes a few times because she'd read that men liked women to do that. With her hands behind her back, she let her hips swing just a 138
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little. “If you want me, Alex, you're going to have to come and find me.” With those words she lifted her skirts and took off across the lawn, leaving Alex standing there, hands still in his pockets, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. She didn't look around until she reached the small copse of trees on the far side, and when she did sneak a look at him he still hadn't moved a muscle. All she could do was keep running. Whatever happened next was definitely up to him.
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Chapter 31 “What were Dana and Alex doing?” Damien lifted his head, pausing for a moment from the very enjoyable task of kissing Alicia's neck. “Tactfully leaving us alone, I think. Now where was I? I think I missed a bit just here.” He pushed back her hair and leaned over to continue, sighing dramatically when he realised that Alicia wasn't about to keep still. “She was all over him, and he looked very uncomfortable. I think I shall have a word with her. That kind of behaviour is most unbecoming for a young lady. Do you not think so?” Damien leaned back against the wall of the gazebo, taking her with him and abandoning his attempts to get her to relax. Since he was getting no response to his kisses, he contented himself with just holding her instead. “She's safe with Alex, if that's what you're worried about. Poor thing, I think he was hoping for some success in that quarter when we went to Plymouth. No, don’t worry, nothing happened.” “Whatever do you mean, Damien? Surely he wasn't going to…?
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Damien giggled, nodding his head. “I think he was. Instead all he did was sit and get drunk and blush like a girl every time a woman looked at him.” “Then I'm glad Aunt Joan took you to a reputable establishment, with no such women. I don't want that for Alex.” “Oh, they were there, all right. That wasn't the problem. Alex was.” “You mean there were” – she whispered the next word in a scandalised tone – “Those kind of women at the inn?” “It was hard to avoid them.” “Was it now?” She seemed to cheer up a little as she turned to him, smiling wickedly. “And how would you know about that?” Damien felt himself reddening, and remembered that he had a confession to make. How on earth was he going to make it sound right after this conversation? “Ahh, I, well it was like this…” Alicia lifted her hand and covered his mouth before he could finish. “Damien, I'm teasing you. Of course I wouldn’t suspect you of anything. You know I trust you, don't you? Come, what do we do about Dana and Alex?” To his relief the moment for confessions seemed to have passed. He would tell her eventually about the girl he'd kissed at the inn, but not yet. Life was complicated enough just now.
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“Why don't we just let them be? They look happy enough together. Do you not think they would be?” “That's just what Aunt Joan said,” Alicia replied, standing up to pour them both a glass of lemonade.” I worry about him, that's all. Dana was so convinced he was going to be some kind of knight in shining armour. I think love should be spontaneous, not forced. She seems so determined to like him. Just because Fate has thrown them together it doesn't follow that they must fall in love.” He took the glass from her, set it on the window ledge and pulled her down again, settling her on his lap. “Do you remember that night I carried you into the coach?” “How could I ever forget?” she said, sliding her arms around his neck and leaning her head on his chest. “I sat like this and pretended to be in a faint so that you would take me with you.” “And I was terrified that you were going to wake up and jump out of the coach when you realised what I looked like. So you were just pretending?” She nodded against his chest. “Mostly. I was quite determined you would take me - I was so terrified by what I thought I'd done. And then when I saw the coach I really believed it was your father coming to take me to Hell.” “I was quite determined too, that you should come with me. Fate threw us together that night, but it was up to us to make something happen from it. Dana is just doing what we did. They seem to like each other and that's a good start. Believe me, Lissa, Alex is so dim, she's going 142
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to have to dance naked in front of him to get him to notice her. He can be very hard work.” “Dance…naked? Oh, Damien, she wouldn't?” He back-pedalled hastily, unable to suppress the grin that the image conjured. “Bad example. I've been reading too many of my father's books. You know what I mean, don't you? The poor girl will have to make all the effort in that relationship, and perhaps, develop a morbid fascination for guns. He doesn't have any other conversation.” Alicia looked over at the gun Alex had left on the bench. “It's not like him to leave them lying about. He's usually so careful about that sort of thing. Do you think he likes her?” “As much as I can tell. He's not one for letting his feeling show. What can I say? Love makes us do foolish things, Lissa. And sometimes very wise ones.” He kissed her cheek. “You're forgetting that Dana is a Stanton. You Stanton women don't appear to have a reputation for holding back when you want something.” He watched her thinking about what he'd said, loving the way she crinkled up her nose when she concentrated. He traced the line of it with a finger, causing her to tilt her head and look at him from under her lashes. A look that made him want to sweep her up and carry her straight to bed. Although life at the mansion may have had its disadvantages, they were more than made up for by the freedom they'd had there. Here, in the world, there were so many rules and conventions to live by. It was almost as if people went out of their way to restrict their lives as much as they possibly could. And, of course, their present circumstances made it all even worse. 143
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“It would be nice to keep the family together, I suppose. I hope he realises how young she is. She's too young to marry him yet.” “You know more about these things than I do, and I think it's rather premature talking of marriage and those two as yet. Lissa, is there somewhere we can sneak off to? I need to make love to you right now. Enough talk of Dana and Alex.” To back up his words he let his hand start a slow sweep from her shoulder, trailing his fingers down the front of her gown. Before he got to her breasts she stopped him yet again. “They might come back,” she said, putting his hand firmly back onto his lap. “Or the gardener might come in. We have to be careful, you know that.” He gazed forlornly at her, shook his head and thought that he would possibly die of frustration before this affair was over. “Alicia Stanton, you need to marry me as soon as is humanly possible. I'm in agony.” With that he took her hand and showed her just how much of a problem he had just then. She let the hand linger for a moment, lightly caressing him, which made him realise what a mistake that had been. Now he felt even worse than before. Sliding from his lap, Lissa made a big show of tidying up the lemonade and glasses. “Shall I leave them some? I think I shall. Do drink up, Damien. It's delicious.” She almost dropped the glass she was holding when he jumped out of his seat, grabbed her from behind and spun her around. His kiss had her clinging to him and 144
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kissing him back with such abandon that he had difficulty keeping up. “I want to paint you naked,” he whispered, when they finally broke apart. “Lying on silk sheets. Would you like that?” “Such scandalous talk,” she replied, eyes wide, trying to affect an innocent look. She always looked ravishing when she'd just been kissed, and, despite the sickness, being with child seemed to have given her an extra glow which he found quite irresistible. “I like it when you flirt with me. I've never seen a pregnant woman before. Where will the baby grow, exactly?” He smoothed his hands over her stomach, wondering how on earth a baby would fit in there and, even more so, how it would come out. “Just there, I think. I was not flirting with you.” “Yes you were, madam.” He leaned his chin on the top of her head and pulled her back into his arms, content to just hold her once more. Talking about the baby dampened his ardour a little, reminding him that she was in a very delicate condition and would become more so as the baby grew. It was up to him to look after her. “I want to be there when it's born. Will it be very painful?” “I heard a woman giving birth once and, yes, it did sound painful. I'd like you to be there.” She was putting on a very brave face despite the edge of panic in her voice. As he reassured her that everything was going to be all right, he realised that they didn't just 145
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need to get married for themselves, they needed to do it for the baby's sake as well. And before the baby began to show. “I hope everything goes well tomorrow. Do you think this girl will help us?” “I've no idea. We can only pray she will. Oh, I forgot to tell you that Flora is coming to the lunch. She's finally been persuaded that the mansion won't fall down if she's absent for a couple of days.” “There are some valuable pieces there. She's always been protective of the place. We must go back before we leave, and choose some things to take to the house in Rossendale. Some paintings, perhaps, and some of the better furniture. I've no idea what will be waiting for us when we go north.” “This is nice, isn't it, Damien? Planning things together. Mundane things like furniture and such. It’s always been so serious and intense between us. Aunt Joan says we should laugh more.” Lissa’s fingers moved over his jacket, smoothing back the lapels. “I like your new clothes. They suit you.” She stepped back then, letting her hands slide down his arms until she'd taken both of his hands in hers. “Look at you. You're joined the modern world at last. What a long way you've come, in so short a time.” “I fear I still have a long way to go, Lissa, and with you beside me who knows how far we'll travel?” He looked at her hands and wondered if she'd want her ring back. He'd found it in Evan's coat-pocket. “Even though we can’t see the end of the path right now, when I'm with 146
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you, like this, I feel as if I could do anything and go anywhere. Just as long as you're with me.” “Then I’ll never leave you again, Damien. I'll always be with you.” He closed his eyes and held her. The words brought a lump to his throat. They made him so happy that he sometimes had difficulty accepting this good fortune. He kept thinking he should have done something to deserve this but he couldn't, for the life of him, think what it was. All he knew was that they had both worked very hard to get to this stage, and he could only mutter a prayer of thanks and hold on to her as tightly as he could. She was real, and there with him. Just then, that was all that mattered. **** Shell Bay House was an early Georgian building originally built by the family of Aunt Joan’s third husband. It wasn't the largest of her residences, but it was her favourite. She'd added a large conservatory at the back so they could sit and admire the rolling lawns that swept down to a line of trees marking the edge of the cliff. After that it was a sheer drop down to the beach below, which was reached only by a narrow cliff path that zig-zagged its way down to the shore. The small cove was very picturesque, with several strangelyshaped rocks that all seemed to have names and stories associated with them. One was shaped like a horse and another was said to be the petrified body of a highwayman who’d foolishly tried to evade the law by jumping from the cliff. Every large house seemed to have stories and legends associated with them, and Shell Bay House was no exception. 147
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They'd been down to the cove, even Damien had, after sunset. All except for Alex, who'd always declined the invitations to accompany them. He'd managed to make what he hoped were believable excuses so he didn’t have to explain the real reason. He was, and had always been, quite terrified of heights. He'd never used the cliff path at the mansion, always preferring to go through the meadow path, which didn't involve negotiating any steep drops. And he'd never had to explain it to anyone, because no-one had ever noticed. At the mansion he'd done as he pleased, and as long as he'd completed his chores his time had been his own, to spend as he liked. No-one ever asked his opinion, or cared about what he wanted. His appearance was of no interest to anyone and, as long as he'd avoided Evan as much as possible, life had been relatively carefree. Since he'd left the mansion it had been one thing after another coming at him so fast it made him quite dizzy. A few days alone, with just his gun for company, was starting to sound very appealing. When Dana had taken off across the lawn he knew where she was heading. She'd probably be halfway down the cliff by now and, although she'd be waiting for him, he couldn’t possibly follow her. Just watching anyone on the path made his stomach churn. I need to talk to her, he thought. For the first time in his life he felt the need to explain himself. He wasn't anything like the person Dana seemed to think he was, and she needed to know that. He stood as near to the cliff-edge as he dared and peered cautiously over. The world spun around a little 148
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and he grabbed hold of a tree trunk to steady himself. She wasn't on the path. He was just steeling himself to have another look when he heard his name. “I'm up here, Alex!” “Dana?” She called him again. He spotted her perched on the branch of a large tree growing very close to the edge, totally unconcerned that the branch projected right out over the cliff with nothing but a steep drop to the beach below. “Climb up, Alex. The view is wonderful.” She beckoned to him, swaying as she dipped down to speak to him, her skirts lifting in the light breeze. His stomach lurched when she grabbed hold of the branch above to steady herself. “Come on. I'm sorry I ran off. Say you forgive me?” “Of course I do, Dana. I think you should come down. Don't look very safe.” With a giggle she leaned over to look at the beach below. “I've been climbing this tree since I was a little girl. I haven't fallen off yet.” “There's always a first time.” His heart started to race uncomfortably as he watched her, not daring to take his eyes away. “Come down and I'll talk to you. That's what you want, isn't it?” “No, you must come up here. I said you had to find me.” 149
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“And I have. Come down, for God's sake, you're making me nervous.” “Are you scared, Alex?” “No.” He stuck his hand in his pockets and tried to look nonchalant. Difficult with her dangling only inches away from death. “Scaredy-cat.” She folded her arms and when he saw that she wasn't holding on to anything he shouted at her much louder than he'd intended to. “Come down, right now!” She stuck out her lip and swung her legs. “I've already told you. If you want me, you'll have to come and get me,” she replied in a sing- song voice. “I'm not coming down until you do.” He took his hands from his pockets and shaded his eyes against the glare of the sun. They were all mad, these Stanton women. How could he could leave her up there by herself? She seemed to have no idea how precarious her situation was. Taking a deep breath, he took hold of the lowest branch and swung himself up. That bit was relatively easy. It wasn't something he'd done very often, but he had climbed a tree before. Just never one hanging over the edge of a cliff. He moved up to the next branch. Dana nodded encouragement at him as he inched his way across. Then he made the mistake of looking down.
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The beach made a violent lurch towards him, his stomach turned over and everything froze. His arms and legs suddenly stopped working and he was left clinging, in a very un-manly fashion, to the branch above, unable to go either backwards or forwards. Dana patted the branch beside her and shuffled along, making a space for him. All he could do was stare at her. “Come on, Alex. You've got to let go if you want to sit with me.” “I don't…” he said holding on even tighter. The world kept making very sudden movements around him, and his head was starting to spin most disconcertingly. “…want to, let go… I'm fine, just here.” “What's wrong?” She peered at him, a slight frown on her face. “You've gone a funny colour.” “I 'ave?” “Yes. Hold on, I'm coming over.” She shuffled herself along towards him, and then he felt her arm around his waist. “I've got you, Alex. You can let go now.” “If I let go we'll both fall. Bloody 'ell, I can't move.” He'd never felt so foolish, and that, coming from him, was saying something. “I don't like 'igh places.” “Then why did you climb up here, silly?” She was smiling at his predicament, but not in an unkind way. “Because you asked me to. Can we go down now?” 151
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“You climbed up here for me? Even though you're obviously quite scared to death of heights?” “Always been a stupid bugger.” He found himself relaxing a little as she held him, glad that she wasn't making more of this. Evan would have made great capital of it, and the old Flora would have probably given him one of her disappointed looks before grudgingly helping him down. They'd only ever seemed to have noticed him when he was doing something daft. No-one had ever noticed the things he was good at. Thank goodness Damien or Lady Carlington weren't here to see this. It wasn't very manly. “No, Alex, it's not stupid at all. I think you're very brave.” He had to laugh at that. “I'm not the man you think I am, Dana. Only thing I'm good at is shooting.” He closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them she was still looking closely at him, her expression softer. There was a sympathy there - a look he'd rarely seen directed at him. For a moment he found himself becoming even more flustered. She was looking right through him at that moment, and the panic he was feeling no longer had anything to do with being scared of heights. “I can't even read.” For some reason her sympathy was hard to bear. Never having been shown affection made it hard to suddenly start accepting it. He hadn't known how to react when his mother had reached out to him, and now Dana was doing the same, bringing out feelings he didn't know what to do with. 152
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She'd spent the last week running after him in her typically hysterical fashion. Making him laugh, teasing him, trying to impress him. It had been both flattering and amusing. She'd very obviously had great expectations about what he was going to be like, as he'd had of her. It had all started to run a little out of control. But this calm, more grown-up, Dana was a side of her he hadn't yet seen. “Would you like to learn?” “Suddenly everyone wants to teach me to read.” “Only because we care about you.” She was still holding him, making him forget that they were perched on the edge of a very high cliff. He lowered his hand from the branch, and, to his surprise, nothing happened. He no longer felt as if he would fall. “Ain’t nobody cared about me before.” “Lissa said you've had a very sad life.” He closed his eyes again. Now tears were threatening; and he'd thought he couldn't make a bigger fool of himself than he'd already done. “Don't you go feeling sorry for me. Don't think I could stand it.” He just about got the words out. She very wisely didn't press him any further, and continued to sit beside him offering quiet understanding. That he could cope with. “Dana,” he began, after a few moments of silence. “I'm not the romantic hero you thought I'd be, am I?” 153
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“No.” “Oh.” He hadn't expected her to say that, although he wasn't surprised she had. “Sorry if I'm a disappointment.” “I didn't say that.” Her fingers were playing lightly over the palm of his hand. He kept his gaze firmly on them while he waited for her to finish. “You're not what I expected, but that doesn't mean I don't like you.” “What if you only think you like me because you’d convinced yourself you would?” She nodded, smiling. “I was quite prepared not to like you, you know. Am I pretty?” She shook back her hair and turned her full gaze on him. He didn't have to look at her to answer that. “’Course you are.” “No, you must look at me, Alex. Don't say anything. Just answer the question in your mind.” So he looked at her and she kept very still as he took in her large brown eyes and hair of the same colour, the breeze gently lifting it about her face. Her teeth gnawing at her bottom lip as she waited, a little anxiously, for him to complete his scrutiny. She had beautiful skin, but there was nothing of the porcelain doll about her. Her strength and determination shone through it all, and that, he realised, was her most attractive feature. Despite being flighty and impulsive, she attacked life 154
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with such passion. What on Earth could he have to offer her? He was glad she hadn't asked him to say it out loud. “What do you see when you look at me, then?” “Someone who's handsome, and kind, and thoughtful. Someone who listens patiently to my silly prattling. Someone who doesn't treat me like a little girl.” “Sounds boring.” “It sounds perfect.” “I just can't go that fast, Dana. You're still young. You'll 'ave loads of men after you...” “I won't always be just seventeen. If I run too fast, you can slow me down. You can be my anchor, and I will stop you falling out of trees.” “You don't give up, do you?” His fingers closed over hers and she rewarded him with a dazzling smile. One that warmed him and allowed a small spark of hope to build deep inside him. Trusting someone was hard and risky; he'd already decided that. But what did he do? Sit in this tree for the rest of his life and be too scared to move, or let her help him down and take what was being offered. She might disappear with the next man who took her fancy, or she might be the best thing that ever happened to him. He'd never know unless he took the risk of finding out. He sat quietly next to her as she leaned against him. There didn't seem to be much else to say, so he just 155
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listened to the rustling of the leaves and the crashing of the waves onto the beach below. Then out of the blue he suddenly heard Evan's mocking voice in his head and remembered that his father was lying cold and lifeless in an unmarked grave because he'd killed him. The feeling of contentment that had been slowly washing over him now vanished in the blink of an eye. He'd been right in thinking this was all too good to be true. Dana needed to know what he'd done. Only then could she truly know whether she wanted to be with him or not. She must know sooner rather than later - it just didn't seem fair to lead her on and make her believe he was someone he wasn't. How could he say it so she'd understand? Just how did you tell someone you were a murderer? **** Flora arrived early the next morning. Alicia was already dressed, having spent a bad night, feeling terribly sick. Only the servants were up and about, so Alicia ordered some tea, and she and Flora took breakfast together in the conservatory. “Oh, Flora, it's so good to see you. How are you?” They'd hugged and exchanged formalities. With the servants hovering about them there hadn't been a chance for more intimate conversation. “I'm well, my dear,” Flora said settling herself into one of the wicker chairs. “The two ladies that Lady Carlington sent were very good company, and Agnes's husband has joined her to look after the mansion while I'm away. I 156
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didn't want to come until I knew I could trust them. I have missed you all. How are the boys?” “They survived their visit to the inn, and they've seen Mr Gill the lawyer. I'll tell you all about it. You won't recognise them in their new clothes.” “I can't wait to see them. And you, Lissa? You were sorely missed, you know.” “I'm well, Flora. Would you like tea?” “Thank you. Let me do it. Are you sure you're well? You do look a little pale.” “I was wondering when you were going to notice that.” Alicia sighed, thinking that this baby was turning out to be the worst-kept secret in history. “Have you guessed why?” Flora stopped what she was doing and stared at her for a moment. “Oh, Lissa, you're not?” “I am, Flora. We're going to have need of your nursing skills, for I have no idea what to do.” Flora seemed to have a remarkable ability to take startling news in her stride, and this was no exception. She handed Alicia a cup and sat back down again. “That's wonderful news. When are you to be married?” “As soon as this business with Crosbie is sorted. Have you forgiven Alex for what he did?”
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“I've tried, Lissa. I'm just not sure he wants it. Oh, he's been polite enough, but I'll never get those wasted years back. What did Damien say about the baby?” “He's pleased, I think. Also a little worried. What's it like, Flora. Having a baby?” “Drink your tea, my dear, and I'll tell you that nearer the time. You've enough to worry about just now. Lady Carlington has a lovely home.” “It's hard to be impressed after living at the mansion, isn't it? It is nice here. I wonder what the house in Rossendale will be like.” Flora sighed. “I shall miss Devon. I've been here all my life.” “You are coming with us?” “Of course I am, especially now, with the baby. Oh, who is this?” Alicia looked up to see Dana entering the conservatory. “This is Flora, Dana. Flora, this is my sister, Dana.” Flora pulled herself out of her chair as Alicia made the introductions, giving Dana a genial smile. Alicia noticed that Dana wasn't half as forthcoming. She stared at Flora with something approaching disdain, only giving her a small nod of the head before throwing herself into a chair. Flora sat back down and they all sat in silence for a few moments. Then suddenly Dana spoke. “What baby?” 158
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Flora glanced at Alicia, then quickly gulped down her tea and stood again, muttering that she ought to go and see if the boys were up yet. She squeezed Alicia's hand briefly before leaving the two sisters together. Alicia watched, horrified, when Dana stuck her tongue out at Flora's retreating figure, She quickly rose from the chair and closed the door. “Dana, why were you so rude to Flora?” “Because she was horrible to Alex. You said so yourself. I'm not going to be nice to her. She doesn't deserve it.” “Dana.” Alicia composed herself, folding her hands in her lap and trying to look like a sensible, older sister about to give sage advice. “It's much more complicated than I made out. You have no idea what went on at the mansion.” “Then tell me. No-one ever tells me anything. I'm seventeen, Lissa. You'd already gone to America by the time you were my age. I've only ever been to Bath and back. And who's having a baby? Why does everyone always think I'm too young to understand things?” As she watched her sister leaning forward, eyes shining after her passionate speech, Alicia tried to remember what she herself had been like at that age, and how frustrating it was to feel like a woman, only to be treated like a child. It was the year she'd let that boy kiss her, and, although she remembered how revolting it was, she realised now that he been young and inexperienced, too. She had been going to give Dana a lecture for her rudeness then tackle her about Alex. Instead she took a moment to look at her sister properly, and was startled 159
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by what she saw. Aunt Joan was right, as she usually was. She tilted her head as Dana waited expectantly. “I was going to give you a lecture.” Dana huffed, folded her arms and flung herself back into the chair. “You're always giving me lectures.” “Let me finish, Dana. I was going to give you a lecture. Instead I’ll give you some advice.” “This still sounds like a lecture. You're jealous because Alex likes me. You don't want him, but you don't want anyone else to, either. How is that fair?” Alicia looked at her pointedly. “Are you going to let me get a word in?” Dana affected an air of nonchalance, raising her eyes heavenwards and inspecting her nails. “Go on, then. Only I don't want you telling me you don't approve of me and Alex. We like each other and that’s enough for now. I've spoken with him and we've agreed to do this all properly. He's taking me out for a walk this morning and he's going to be my escort to the ball. We're not going to rush headlong into things like you did with Damien. He's not like that. So you see, I can be sensible when I want to be.” Alicia still had her mouth open, as she'd been ready to speak before Dana had begun her speech. She blinked several times and tried to take in the unlikely fact that her sister had just said something that actually made good sense.
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“Do you really like each other? This is not just infatuation?” “We think so. We just need time to find out. That's why we're going to do this slowly. He knows I'm young Lissa, and I know I've acted rather foolishly this week. We've sorted it all out, we really have.” “This is scary, Dana.” “No it's not, Lissa. It's the most wonderful thing that's ever happened to me.” Alicia smiled at her sister. “No, not that. The fact that you are talking sense. Does this mean you are becoming a young lady at last?” Dana blushed at the compliment. Alicia found herself engulfed in an enthusiastic hug. “I suppose it does. Thank you, Lissa. So you approve?” Alicia hugged her back. “Don’t break his heart. Evan and Flora did a good enough job of that between them.” Dana sank to the floor and sat back on her heels “Evan? Who's he?” “He was Alex's father. Has he told you anything about him?” Dana looked puzzled. “He's never mentioned him. Will he be coming here too?” “He's dead, Dana. And Flora has made it up with Alex. If you’re going to have a relationship with him you really should cultivate one with his mother. She's coming to Rossendale with us.” 161
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“Oh dear, I didn't think of that. Do you think I should apologise for my rudeness?” “I do, Dana. And if there's anything you need to ask me about affairs of the heart then feel free to.” “Because you're such an expert?” Dana arched an eyebrow. Alicia shook her head. “You’ll never know how much. I seem to have experienced every emotion there is in the past few months. I've been to Heaven and to Hell without leaving this Earth. So yes, it makes me something of an expert.” Dana must have seen the sadness in her eyes. She rose and hugged her again. “It's all going to come out right, isn't it? I can see that Damien adores you and would do anything for you, and…oh my goodness…” Dana stood back and Alicia saw the realisation drop into place. “It's you? You're going to have the baby?” “I am.” Alicia smoothed out her skirt, suddenly feeling rather self-conscious. “Now you can be scandalised.” “No, Lissa. No. It's wonderful. I'm going to be an aunt. That makes me feel really grown-up. Now I've got to hug you again. Is this why you've been so ill?” “It is. Damien's already told Alex and Wendy; Flora and Aunt Joan know. It isn't much of a secret any more, is it? Don't tell anyone else, please.”
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Dana sat back down and Alicia was amused to see her sitting rather more demurely than her usual sprawledout position. As if she really was making an effort to be grown-up. “It's safe with me. Surely you should tell Crosbie you can't marry him now?” “Don't press me on this, Dana. He must think everything is as normal. Surprise is our best tactic right now, trust me. He must not know we are planning anything.” “Then let's hope you are successful. The ball is next week. I know Crosbie will be there. Will you have what you need by then?” “I hope so. Now you must excuse me. I need to get ready to see a very important visitor. **** “It's Anna, isn't it?” Alicia already felt a little sorry for the girl who was sitting nervously on the garden bench. Hadn't Anna already said she didn't want to co-operate? It didn't seem right to pressurise her like this. But when she thought about the alternative Alicia knew she must. “I'm Alicia. Would you like to come for a walk around the grounds before lunch? Lady Carlington is showing the other ladies her roses.” The girl stood. “She told me to wait for you. Do you really have a private beach here?” “Would you like to see it?”
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Anna nodded and they fell in step. Alicia found she quite liked the girl, and by the time they got to the gate that led to the cliff path they were chatting like old friends. “The path is very steep.” Anna peered over the edge. “Good, I like a challenge. Shall we?” By the time they reached the bottom they were both out of breath and laughing. Despite being sick in the morning Alicia found that by lunchtime her symptoms had lessened somewhat. She leaned over, holding her side. “I don't think we should have run quite so fast. Let's sit and catch our breath.” They sat down on the rocks that marked the edge of the bay, and Alicia tossed a few pebbles in the water. Having found that she liked this Anna, she now felt even more guilty at what she was about to do. “Anna, may I ask you something?” Anna turned to her, smoothing her hair out of her eyes where it was being blown by the wind. “Of course you can. I wish we could be friends, Alicia. Do you live here with your aunt?” “For now, but I'll be leaving soon. And I need your help.” “My help? I don't understand.” “I know about your involvement with Crosbie.”
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Anna stared at her, wide-eyed,for a moment. She was surprisingly calm when she replied. “Ahh, so that's what this is all about? Poor Mama. She was so flattered to have been asked to one of Lady Carlington's lunches.” Anna stood and shook the sand out of her skirt. “I wish I could help you. Please don’t press me. I can't. I've nearly caused one scandal. My parents would never forgive me if it all started up again.” “Crosbie's reputation is still intact. What happened, Anna?” Anna looked at her long and hard, then she sighed and sat down again. “I fell in love with him,” she said picking up a shell and inspecting it closely. “Did you?” “I thought I had. Then I found out what kind of man he was. If he's played you false, Anna, this is your chance for vengeance.” Anna gave a small laugh looking at her sideways. “I like that word. That and I wish. I wish for vengeance. I wish things could have been different. I wish he'd loved me back.” “You're not still in love with him, are you?” “Perhaps a little. He has something about him that is so attractive. I was just so dazzled by it all. You know how powerful he is. That's why I can't help you.” “He's threatening me, Anna.” Alicia had to fight to control herself. Her case needed stating plainly and without any hysteria. It was hard 165
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when she was talking about the man she hated more than anything in the world. “We've got to counter-attack, and you're our only hope. I promise this won't become public. We just need to scare him into backing off. I promise you, he won't want a scandal either. I think he means to rise in the church and he wants that more than he wants me. We only need to scare him a little.” Anna thought about it for a moment. She shook her head. “I'm really sorry, Alicia. I'd help you if I could. My parents would never let me. They've made that plain enough. But I wish you well. Shall we go back?” Alicia could only watch as Anna left her and strode purposefully back to the cliff path. **** “Lady Carlington, it's so good of you to invite us here. You have a lovely home.” “Glad you could come, my dear. Why don't you step into the drawing room? I'd like to show you something.” Lady Carlington ushered Anna's mother into the drawing room and closed the door, noticing the look of mild anxiety that crossed the woman’s face. She'd obviously been quite overwhelmed by her invitation and was clearly out of her depth socially. “Sit down. The others will be fine without us.”
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Anna's mother did as she was told, hovering over the chair until Lady Carlington was seated. They sat and smiled at each other for a few moments. “I'm going to cut straight to the chase, my dear. I brought you in here for a reason. Now don't panic. A friendship with me can be very advantageous. You would like to be my friend, wouldn't you?” The woman could only nod and look confused. At one point she looked as if she were going to stand up. Lady Carlington motioned her back down. “You've been approached about helping a young girl in a matter regarding a certain Reverend Crosbie. Is that correct?” The woman couldn't have looked more startled. She opened her mouth. No sound came out, so she just nodded instead. “I also need to tell you that I know about the baby.” “You do?” The woman found her voice at last. “Oh, Lady Carlington, please don't tell anyone.” “Calm down,my dear. Your secret is quite safe. Anna had a child with Crosbie and he pays someone to look after it. Is that correct?” “He does, Lady Carlington. Not out of love for the child, you understand? He doesn't acknowledge it as his own, although he does provide money for its upkeep. It would be such a scandal if this all came out. Poor Anna had to go away to have the child. He arranged it all, of course. She's such a silly girl.” 167
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Lady Carlington took out a handkerchief and handed it to the woman. Like the answer to a prayer, the news about the child had come through that morning. She spared a moment of pity that she had to inflict this on the poor unsuspecting woman before refocusing on the task in hand. “We need Anna to state legally that Crosbie is the father of this child, and that he is the member of several dubious societies. I am right in thinking that she was seen at several of these places with him?” Anna’s mother mopped at her eyes and turned her face to Lady Carlington. “He said he would stop paying for the baby if we ever told anyone. This scandal will break us.” “There isn't going to be a scandal, so stop worrying.” Lady Carlington moved to the sofa and sat down beside Anna’s mother. “I will foot the child's future expenses. It's the least I can do, and, with the threat of exposure hanging over him, Crosbie will have to back down. I just need him to know that we are stronger than he is. I would be most grateful for your co-operation in this matter. As I said, you would find it most advantageous socially to be considered my friend. We could do this without you now that we have this information, but making it legal would add considerable weight to our argument. Will you help us?” The woman sniffed loudly and made an attempt to pull herself together. “It seems that you leave us no choice,” she said, still looking rather stunned at Lady Carlington's words. “What has Crosbie done to this girl - that you need to take such drastic action?” 168
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Lady Carlington patted her hand and looked at her sympathetically. “I'm sorry if I scared you, my dear. I am truly grateful for your help. Crosbie has made the mistake of threatening those I love. And nobody does that while I'm here to stop it.”
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Chapter 32 Alicia thought she'd known what she wanted from life. It had always been so clear in her mind. The handsome husband. The house. The glittering lifestyle. She'd thought about it so much that it had almost become reality. Then in the blink of an eye her life had taken one of those startling leaps forward and the road in front of her had changed. The things she'd craved so desperately were fading away and things she'd barely been aware of were coming quietly into focus. She was learning to look deeper, in places she'd never dreamed of, and was amazed at what she was seeing. Things that had value beyond her wildest dreams. This quiet contentment and the feeling of completeness she'd found with Damien was truly a gift. One she'd always be grateful for. She'd been looking for grand romantic gestures and noisy declarations of love. Instead there was happiness in the little things. The way Damien looked at her. The feel of his arms around her. The sound of his voice. His warmth and his kindness. The steady beat of his heart, soothing her when he held her in the night. As long as he had breath in his body she knew he'd always be there for her. What more could she ask for? What more did she need? **** From the moment he'd set eyes on Alicia he'd wanted her, and thought of her as his. Fate had thrown them 170
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together, then stepped back for a while to see what they made of things. They'd got this far, but Damien had a strong feeling it hadn't finished with them yet. Life seemed to be gathering momentum once more after this period of relative calm, and soon they would find out where it would all ultimately lead. Unfortunately, this next step seemed to require that he learn to dance. Despite his excuses to the contrary, Lady Carlington had declared that it would look very odd for a man of his social standing to be lacking this particular skill, so here he was making as big a fool of himself as he'd ever done. And to make matters worse, Alex seemed to have a totally unexpected talent for it, after all his protestations that he wouldn't be seen dead doing any such thing, and had taken to it like a duck to water. Damien apologised to Alicia as he trod on her toes for what seemed the twentieth time while Alex and Dana whirled past them, Alex grinning broadly, Dana giggling and out of breath. Aunt Joan played the final notes of the music and, thankfully, they were able to stop. He remembered to bow and thank Alicia for the dance. “That was awful,” he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Why can't I do it? I feel so foolish.” Alicia gave him a sympathetic look, unable to do more as a servant had just entered the room and declared that Lady Carlington had a visitor waiting for her in the hall. “It's Mr. Gill, ma'am. Will you be requiring refreshments?” “Coffee, please.” Lady Carlington rose from the piano stool, stopping for a moment at the ornate mirror 171
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hanging on one wall to pat her hair and lick a finger to smooth back her eyebrows. “Damien, Alex, would you like to accompany me and see what he has to say?” she asked. “This may be the news we've all been waiting for.” Damien's heart was already racing in anticipation. Just the mention of Mr. Gill's arrival had sent it into a frenzy. Surely the lawyer wouldn't have come all this way himself if he didn't have anything of significance to say? “We want to be there. Don't we, Alex?” Alex was already well ahead of him, opening the door for Lady Carlington as they left. “Reckon we do. After you, Lady C.” Damien had to wonder at the change in his cousin this past week. It seemed that a little of Dana's good breeding was rubbing off on to him after all. Dana, however, was as giddy as ever, despite her constant protestations that she was becoming a proper young lady at last. He followed Lady Carlington and Alex to the hall where they collected Mr. Gill. When they were seated in the study they all looked at Mr. Gill expectantly. After a few moments of rifling through the rather large and important-looking bag he'd brought with him, he finally brought out a sheaf of papers, took off his glasses and proceeded to give the lenses a good polishing with his handkerchief. It was almost too much to bear. The papers looked official enough; the top one had a large embossed seal at the bottom and what looked like a signature. Damien craned his neck in an effort to read what it said. 172
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“Oh, for heavens sake, Constantine, do get on with it,” Lady Carlington ordered, flapping her hand to hurry him up. “You will wear those lenses out if you polish them any more.” A very small giggle escaped Alex when he heard Mr. Gill's first name. He managed successfully to turn it into a cough. Damien shook his head discreetly. Now was not the time for frivolities. “Of course, of course.” Mr. Gill replaced his spectacles, then shuffled the papers, peered at the top sheet, and looked up. “Well, as expected, it's good news.” He passed the sheet over to Lady Carlington, smiling all the while. “I believe you made the girl’s family an offer they found hard to refuse.” “Goodness, Constantine, you make me sound like a lowlife.” Lady Carlington quickly scanned the sheet, not looking the slightest bit offended by Mr Gill's comment. As Damien waited, his hands clasped together to stop them shaking, he noticed that Lady Carlington and Mr Gill seemed to have a very easy relationship. Mr. Gill had kissed her hand on arrival, and the banter between them was friendly and not at all as formal as it should be between a lawyer and a client. Perhaps this level of friendship had accounted for the speed with which these statements had been procured? Damien took the sheet Lady Carlington offered him, her expression now one of considerable satisfaction. “There it is, Damien. What we've all been waiting for.” 173
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She sat politely, exchanging glances with Mr. Gill while Damien read through it. Alex looked anxiously over his shoulder. “What does it say, Damien? Say something.” Alex gave him a push by way of encouragement. Damien found he could hardly get the words out. “It says…that Crosbie has an illegitimate child with this girl. It's hidden somewhere and he pays for its upkeep.” He read quickly through the rest of the details, feeling a little light-headed now as the implication sank in. “Imagine what a wonderful scandal this would cause?” “The dirty bugger.” Alex turned to Mr. Gill. “It is enough?” “My feeling is yes, but how you play this is very important. We merely need to scare Crosbie into backing off. Better, I think, that we leave him space to exit this affair with his pride intact - in his mind, anyway. Try to avoid making him feel he has to take you on. Otherwise we may have to rethink this whole matter.” “I don't want to go through the House of Lords, if that's what you're saying. I could never stand up and be convincing enough.” “Let's hope it doesn't come to that, Damien. Would you like me to serve him with these papers?” “No, I'll do it.” Damien glanced at the paper again. “I want to do this.”
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“Of course you must.” There was a knock on the door. Lady Carlington called in the maid. “Bring the coffee over and just leave it, will you.” The maid set down the tray and scurried away as Lady Carlington busied herself arranging cups. Damien watched her, thinking that she was one hell of a woman and he was quite possibly seeing a glimpse of a future Lissa or Dana. Lady Carlington was never happier than when she was at the helm of things, steering the boat. He didn't know if it was the confidence that money and social standing brought or whether she’d been born this way. Possibly both, he decided. His mind ran on to the next generation and he wondered if he'd have any daughters, and whether they'd be like this too. Pictures of rebellious teenage daughters stamping their feet popped into his mind and he decided that he needed to organise himself a study somewhere in a quiet corner of the house where he could escape from it all. He had no idea what kind of parent he would make, but his children would have a better upbringing than he had – of that he was certain. They'd be wanted, and loved. Lady Carlington asking him if he wanted coffee pulled him out of his reverie. This fantasy future was still just that, since it all still rested on him and Crosbie. If Crosbie wanted Lissa as much as he himself wanted her, then they were in trouble. He didn't really want a drink just then. What he wanted to do was find Lissa and tell her the good news. It seemed rude, however, to rush off after all Lady Carlington had done for them, so he said yes and accepted a cup. Then he remembered that Mr Gill might have something else for him. 175
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“Did you manage to organise the marriage licence, Mr. Gill?” Mr. Gill put down his cup and seemed about to start polishing his spectacles again. He inspected them and put them back on. “Ahh, I wanted to talk to you about that. Shall we leave it until after this has been sorted? We don't want Crosbie getting wind of it before you spring our little surprise on him.” Damien’s shoulders slumped a little. Simply to hold the thing in his hand - even that would be something. Mr Gill was probably right, though. Who knew what connections Crosbie had? “Yes,” he replied. “I understand. But don't delay once this is all over. We have a consecrated chapel at the mansion. We could be married there.” “Oh,” said Lady Carlington. “Don't do it without me, will you? I do so want to be present.” “Of course we won't,” Damien replied, standing up, unable to contain himself any longer. “Would you mind if I showed this to Alicia? She'll be waiting to see it.” “Of course you must. Then put it somewhere very safe.” “I will, Lady Carlington. And thank you so much.” “You are more than welcome, my boy.” They all stood up and for a moment there seemed nothing more to say. Lady Carlington had the air of one 176
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greatly satisfied with her day’s work and Damien was left staring at the paper, well-aware of the weight of responsibility it put on his shoulders. “Come here. my boy.” Suddenly Lady Carlington's arms were around him and holding him very tightly. “You're doing very well, Damien. I have every faith that you'll do the right thing. Believe in yourself and everyone else will.” He nodded, hugging her back and thinking how fortunate he was to have these strong women in his life. Everything he'd ever read about women had made them out to be weak both physically and in mind. He hadn't appreciated, until now, how hard Flora had had to fight for him. Then there was Lissa and now Lady Carlington. Phenomenal, all of them. He squared his shoulders. It was his turn to be strong. **** “Did you see her, Lissa? She was preening.” “What on Earth makes you say that? Honestly Dana, your head is full of such nonsense.” “How could you miss it? The mere mention of Mr. Gill and she went all giddy.” “Aunt Joan? Giddy? I don't think so.” Alicia turned from looking out of the window, wondering when Damien would be returning, and whether he'd have what they wanted. The ball was in three days time and she'd received a note from Crosbie asking if he might call on her. She'd managed to delay him by pleading illness, yet again. He would, though, expect to see her at the ball. 177
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“I think you're making something out of nothing there, Dana. Aunt Joan will never marry again, not at her age.” “Marry? Oh, wouldn't that be wonderful, and so like Aunt Joan!” “Calm yourself, Dana. Did you know that Mama and Papa are visiting this afternoon?” “I'm not going back, if that's what they think. Papa will not marry me to anyone I do not choose willingly. You must tell them I have a headache and can't see them.” “I do feel sorry for Mama. It seems mean to leave her.” Lissa sighed and wondered if she was being selfish in all this. She'd already inflicted one scandal on her family, and was about to do the same again. “You saw her, Lissa. She hardly seems to know who we are any more. I think she's happy, in her own way. Oh, here's Damien.” Alicia's first thought was that he looked a little glum for someone who'd received good news. Happily, he didn't keep a straight face for long. He was holding something behind his back and she rushed over and reached around him. “Show me, Damien. What have you got?” He broke out into a huge grin, producing the paper with a flourish. “Here it is.” “Let me see, let me see.” Alicia took it from him and read through it frantically, silently thanking Anna and 178
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her family. And Aunt Joan and Mr. Gill, and Flora and Alex. And, most of all, Damien. Without his courage and determination they'd never have got this far. At that moment she truly considered herself the most fortunate woman alive. “It's wonderful news.” She reached up on tiptoe and pulled him down to her for a slow, lingering, kiss, the paper still dangling from her fingers. She spoke, whispering thank you against his lips. She tried to show him too; they were getting good at this. Good at communicating in ways that left no room for misunderstanding. When they did this it was just the two of them, with no space between them, united and in perfect harmony. It filled her and warmed her. Made her feel loved and safe. Made her feel as if, together, they could take on the whole world. She was aware of Dana tiptoeing out and closing the door as they lost themselves in each other. “I’m going upstairs to pack my things.” “Do you think you should?” Damien replied. “What if that’s tempting Fate?” “No, Damien, it won't be. I have every confidence that, as of this coming Saturday, I will no longer be engaged to the Reverend Crosbie. You can do this.” She knew he could, but did he? Even though they were all behind him, she'd detected the note of worry in his voice and the slight frown on his face when she'd mentioned Saturday, the day of the ball. She moved away from him. Crosbie could well have a spy or two in 179
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the house, to report back on her activities, and it wouldn't do to give him the advantage now. “I am going to pack, and you should do the same. When the time comes I think I'd like to get back to the mansion as soon as possible. We're going to be busy, and, strangely enough, I do miss the place.” “So do I. We will come back to Devon, Lissa.” Damien took both of her hands and stared at the backs of them. “One day. I just feel right now that I want to put as much distance between us and Crosbie as is possible.” “And so we will, my love.” She reached up to kiss him again. “So we will.” **** “Never mind the coffee. This calls for a proper celebration.” Lady Carlington moved over to the cabinet at the far end of her study, opened the door and produced a bottle of brandy. “Will you join me in one of these, Constantine?” Mr. Gill took out his pocket watch and inspected it closely. “I fear it's a little early for me, Joan.” “Oh, go on with you, you old fuddy-duddy. Here, take this glass, and come and sit on the sofa with me. Have you given any thought to our other plan?” Mr. Gill dutifully did as he was told, taking the glass of brandy and leaning one arm across the back of the sofa. “You mean the carrot as opposed to the stick?”
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Lady Carlington sat beside him and sighed heavily. “I know we can get Crosbie made up to Bishop in return for leaving Alicia alone. It just doesn't seem right to reward him for what he's done.” “You have enough influence for that, but I must say I agree with you.” Mr. Gill took a sip of the brandy, closing his eyes to savour it as it went down. “The best. As usual. You do have confidence in them, don't you?” “The children? I do, Constantine. It's Crosbie I'm worried about. He's not been himself since his injury and is rather unpredictable, or so I hear.” “You have spies in his household?” “Of course I do, as he has here, I’m sure. I just pay mine more.” Mr. Gill laughed and shook his head. “You are absolutely in your element with all this, aren't you?” “It's a long time since I did any spying.” Her eyes took on a faraway look as if she were remembering times gone by. “Life is just so dull and routine lately. How I long for those days when I was in France. It was all so exciting.” Mr. Gill arched an eyebrow. “You mean nearly getting yourself shot? You never should have left me, Joan.” “Perhaps.”
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She looked a little sad, as she remembered. He wondered if there were perhaps a little regret mingled in there too. “You never told me what you did to secure your release.” “And I never will. A woman has to have her secrets, you know. Otherwise, where's the mystery?” “Was it worth it?” “I don't know. How will we ever know, Constantine? We make decisions - that one seemed so right back then and we have to live with them. You can only live one life at a time. Besides, when I came back to England you were married.” “And so were you.” “Until he ran off and spent all my money. Really, you were so stuffy, Constantine. All you ever talked about was going up to Oxford to study law.” He drained his glass and set it down on a side table. She must be in her forties by now, he thought. A little plumper, but still the woman who'd broken his heart all those years ago. “You've done better than I have. Managed to bag yourself a lord along the way. Did you marry him for his money?” “He was eighty-three. What do you think?”
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There was the cheeky grin that used to promise so much yet always left him wanting. Then her expression turned serious once more. “And yet here we are, after all these years. Alone. You a widower, me three times a widow.” “Fate plays strange tricks on us, doesn't it?” He reached across and placed his hand on hers. “Joan, it may not be too late to find happiness.” She covered his hand with her own, the smile returning. Mr. gill felt a frenzy of spectacle polishing coming on. Unable to do that and hold her hand, he stayed where he was. “Do you think there might yet be a chance for us?” “Perhaps, Constantine.” Her gaze softened as she looked at him. “Perhaps.” **** “Lissa?” “Alex.” Alicia shifted along the bench and patted the seat beside her. “Sit down. I haven’t seen enough of you since you arrived.” Alex threw his jacket over the arm of the bench and sat next to her, looking her up and down as he did so. “So, 'ow are you feeling? Er…you don’t ’ave to tell me,” he added, wondering if it was done to talk about such things. 183
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“Of course I don’t mind telling you. Quite horribly sick, I'm afraid. And very tired. Although it gets a little better as the day goes on. Are you enjoying being here?” He thought about it for a moment and nodded. “Think I am. Reckon I'm going to need some time alone soon, though. You know what I'm like.” She nodded in sympathy. “Dana can be a little overwhelming. Where is she, by the way?” “Lady C dragged her off to make some charity visit. Your parents are coming this afternoon.” “I know, but it won't be long until we're free of all this. Thank you for staying with us Alex. Damien would never have had the courage to go this far without you beside him.” “I ain't done anything.” “Yes you have, Alex. You freed us from Evan. Do you ever think about him?” “Sometimes. Not the kind of thing you forget.” He stared off into the distance. He hadn't thought about Evan all week before talking to Dana in the tree and now his father’s ghost wouldn't leave him alone. It even invaded his dreams at night. There was only one thing he could do about it. “Going back to the mansion tomorrow. Going to re-bury 'im so deep that no-one'll ever find 'im. Don't tell Mother.” “Is Damien going with you?” 184
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“No, he needn't come. Something I've got to do.” Her hand was on his arm, her eyes wide with the shock of what he'd just said. “I'll come with you. You shouldn't go alone.” “You can't go back there. Not yet, anyway.” She has a really kind face, he thought, always so full of concern for others. “But thanks for offering. I'll make sure Lady's C's people don't see what I'm doing. Do you ever see 'im?” “Evan? Sometimes I think I do, right on the edge of my vision, you know? And when I look round there's nothing there.” “Keep thinking 'e's going to come and 'aunt me. Do you think I'll go to 'ell for this?” “You were desperate, Alex. How could God punish you for wanting to make all our lives better?” He gave a humourless laugh and shrugged his shoulders. “I'll just ‘ave to wait and see. Lissa, 'ow did you tell Damien you thought you'd killed Crosbie?” She didn't answer immediately. He guessed she might be reliving it in her mind. “It was the night we all got drunk together. Do you remember how sick I was?” “You made us wear those coats. God, but I was very drunk too that night.” They both lapsed into silence again. So many memories. So many things happening at once after a lifetime of 185
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nothing at all. Things that needed talking about so they could make some sense of them. So they could become part of who they all were. Neither of them had properly talked about Evan’s death. He couldn’t speak for Lissa, but he needed to unburden. “Sometimes it feels like it was someone else that did it. Know what I mean?” he said. “I do. I suppose it's a thing so far outside our normal experience that we have trouble associating ourselves with it.” “S’pose so.” He thought he knew what she meant and he certainly didn't see himself as a killer. Even though he was one. “I'll 'ave to tell Dana. Will she understand?” “I think Dana would do anything for you, Alex.” “But she don't know I'm a murderer. That's serious and it's going to be a shock for 'er. 'Ow do I say it?” “All you can do is tell her the truth. It's the right thing to do, Alex. You can't have a relationship based on lies. I've learnt that much from this affair. How do you feel about her?” “She's nice.” “She's also young.” “I 'ave noticed.” “You'd have to be willing to wait for her.” 186
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She was trying to look serious, but he could see she couldn't stop herself smiling at the implication of what she'd just said. She was possibly the only woman in the world with whom he'd be able to have this conversation without becoming horribly embarrassed. “You don't 'ave to worry about 'er, you know.” “I do know, Alex and I didn't mean that. You're a man, and…well, it would mean not…” “I know what you're trying to say. If I want to be with Dana then it means no, you know, no…ummm…” He raked his fingers through his hair, grinning at the way they were tying themselves in knots. “It's not like I 'ave women throwing themselves at me.” “Not yet, Alex. Wait until the ball. I think you're going to be surprised.” “Who the 'ell’s going to notice me?” “Alex, you don't have a clue, do you?” She ticked the points off on her fingers as she spoke. “First of all, you are cousin to a lord. That makes you a good catch since they will presume you to be wealthy. You have the bonus of being handsome, although that is not a prerequisite. And, most importantly, you are under forty, single, and have the required number of limbs. Are you getting a picture?” He was. A very scary one. “It sounds like a market.” “It is, Alex. It most certainly is. The girls will be bad enough, but watch out for their mothers, for when they are trying to marry off their daughters they are truly 187
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frightening. And that's not counting the women who will want you just because you are a desirable man. Oh, I know they're not supposed to exist. Believe me, they do.” His eyes were very large by now. “You're saying I'll be tempted?” “You certainly will. As I said, you are a man, and…” He held up his hands then, acutely aware of what she was trying to say. And that was without her knowing about his experience with the twins. She was assuming him to be as innocent as Dana, and, to tell the truth, he hadn't really thought about this aspect of things at all. Now she’d mentioned it he did see the kind of dilemma it might put him in. Damien had had a little more freedom in the matter, but he hadn't wasted much time in bedding Lissa. He checked his thoughts right there, wondering if it would be impolite to think that in front of Lissa. She was right, a decision had to be made at some time regarding this, even though he'd known Dana for so short a time. They'd talked about it and decided to see how things went between them, and he was still expecting that it would be Dana who would grow fed up with him. Despite what Lissa was saying, he still couldn't see himself as that desirable man she kept talking about. “You feeling well enough to come shooting with me? I've set up a target, far end of the paddock. Made sure it's safe and all.” To his relief she nodded and the subject seemed closed for now. He picked up his jacket, slung it over his 188
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shoulder, and told her to wait for him while he fetched the guns. Guns were nice and simple and women so complicated. However, while guns were fun they were, at the end of the day, just cold lumps of metal and wood. Women were soft and warm. They made him feel things. Very pleasant things. He was getting hot just thinking about it. If he decided to wait for Dana, then it was going to be a very uncomfortable year, or two. Just how long would he be expected to wait? Perhaps he should stick to guns after all? As he'd thought, they were simple and women were most definitely not. **** Damien amused himself for an hour or so after lunch, playing Lady Carlington's new grand piano. There was more than one piano in the house and he couldn't decide whether he preferred the Broadwood or the German Ibach. The piano at the mansion had been one of the very first produced and was very rudimentary compared to these. Dana entered the room at some point. He was so lost in the music that he didn't really notice her until she suddenly piped up, right in the middle of a complicated set of triplets and made him miss the notes. “My parents have just arrived. I think Papa means to drag me back home. You will stop them, won't you, Damien?” He rose and walked across to where she was seated, thinking how much like Lady Carlington she was in 189
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appearance and temperament. Dana seemed ten times more determined than any of the Stanton women. She was going to run rings around Alex, he could see that. He perched himself on the arm of the chair and she sat gazing at him. It struck him that she probably already thought of him as the head of the family – which he was, he supposed. He ought to get used to people looking to him to sort out their problems for them. “I can't do anything yet, Dana,” he said as kindly as he could. “You mustn't worry. Neither I nor Alex will let anything happen to you.” “You don't know my father, Damien. All he’s concerned with is raising funds for his stupid schemes. He's nearly ruined us once. I'm not going back with him. I'll run away first.” Her panic was understandable; it had nearly led Lissa to commit murder. “Be patient, Dana. I can’t talk about it. Just know that things are in hand.” She didn’t appear very reassured. Suddenly, she leaped up. “That will be him. Don't tell him you've seen me. Say I've gone to visit Wendy.” With that she ran out of the room, leaving Damien still sitting on the arm of the chair. He stood as the older man entered the room, unsure of how to greet him. Did one bow to another man? Mr. Stanton stared at him for a moment, obviously flustered. “And you are?” “Lord Rossendale. I'm a houseguest of Lady Carlington.” Damien offered his hand, noting full well how Mr. Stanton' expression had changed at the mention of his 190
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title. Flattery was obviously one of the ways to this man's heart, so he continued. “Who do I have the very great pleasure of addressing?” Mr. Stanton warmed up even more. “Mr. Harold Stanton.” He shook hands vigorously, grabbing hold of Damien's elbow for greater effect, then stood back with his hands laced behind him. “The pleasure is all mine. If you are a guest here then you must have met my daughters?” “Miss Stanton and Miss Dana? he replied, managing to remember the correct form of address for young ladies. They are indeed very charming. Shall we?” Damien indicated that they should sit, since Mr. Stanton seemed to be waiting for him to lead. He had to bite his lip when Lissa's father nearly fell over in his efforts to fawn on him even further. “Of course, of course.” Mr. Stanton sat down and clapped his hands together. “So, how long will you be staying with Lady Carlington, my sister?” “Just for a few more days. Then my party will be travelling to the north of England.” “Ahh. You and your lady wife?” “I don't have a wife.” The expression on Mr. Stanton' face was priceless at this piece of news. Damien would have laughed out loud there and then had he not been gripped with a sudden wave of anger at the arrogance and foolishness of the man. He knew exactly what was coming next.
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“My daughter Dana cannot wait to be married. It's all she talks about.” “I would have thought the elder daughter should be married first. Isn't that how it usually works?” It was too easy. Even with his limited social skills Damien had no trouble leading Mr. Stanton exactly where he wanted him to go. “Alicia is already spoken for, I'm afraid. Pity, that. But, as I said, Dana is determined to be married. I must say I am inclined to agree with her. And a man needs a wife to provide him with heirs. What is your opinion on the matter, Lord Rossendale?” “Oh, I couldn't agree more.” “And where is your country seat, Lord Rossendale? Is it in the north of England?” “Actually, my main residence is quite near here.” Damien leaned forward as if sharing a great confidence, lowering his voice for greater effect. “The Lucius mansion, on the cliff.” Mr. Stanton's expression cycled from shock to disappointment through to disbelief and finally came to rest at something Damien could only guess was contempt. When his face had finally finished its contortions, he took out his pocket watch and made a big show of inspecting it. “You must excuse me. I have to find my errant daughter and then we will be leaving. Good-day, My Lord.” Damien stood and nodded politely as the man swept out of the room. When Mr. Stanton’s footsteps had faded 192
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away, he fell back into the armchair and laughed until he cried. **** “Flora, may I speak with you?” “Of course you may, Dana. Shall we walk in the grounds? Your aunt has such a lovely home.” Dana nodded and they fell in step. Flora couldn't fail to notice how nervous she was. Neither had she failed to notice how smitten she seemed with Alex. Dana kept flicking her little glances and opening her mouth as if she were about to say something. Eventually Flora gave her a helping hand. “Did you want to talk about Alex?” Dana blushed a little at the mention of his name, managing a small “Yes, partly,” before blurting out, “Flora, I'm sorry if I was rude to you the other day. I do so want to be friends with you.” “And so you shall be, my dear,” Flora reassured her. “You seem quite fond of Alex? Am I right?” “Oh, Flora,” Dana's eyes were shining now. “I think he's wonderful. Do you mind?” “Why on Earth should I mind? But you are rather young, my dear. Do you think it might not merely be an infatuation?” They stopped at the cliff edge, and Flora turned back. “I'm sorry, but I have rather a fear of heights. Can we walk this way instead?” 193
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“Oh, Alex has too. Isn't it strange that you should both share it?” “Does he?” It was rather disconcerting for Dana to know things about Alex that she didn't. But then again she'd never taken the trouble to find out. “And what else do you know about my son?” Dana skipped beside her, obviously pleased that the conversation was proving easier than she'd anticipated. Flora had already decided not to be cross for her previous rudeness. This happy young girl walking beside her suddenly opened possibilities of a future she'd never envisioned for herself and her son. Flora had always imagined that Alex would become fed up with his life at the mansion and simply disappear one day, never to be heard of again. He certainly wouldn't have tolerated Evan's treatment of him for much longer. She was, in these past few weeks, coming round to an understanding of why he should have taken such extreme action against his father. Given Lissa's involvement, running away hadn't been an option for him any more. He'd killed Evan for Lissa as much as he had for himself. Looking back from the privileged position of hindsight, Flora realised that she should have made a different decision a long time ago. There'd always been a possibility that it could have worked out the other way around. Evan's tempers were certainly vicious enough for him to have one day killed Alex. Had he done so, she'd never have been able to forgive herself for not defending her son. “How much do you know of our life at the mansion?” 194
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“Oh, lots and lots. Lissa has spoken of it and so has Alex.” Dana stopped to snap off a rose stem which she presented to Flora. “These are Aunt Joan's pride and joy. Do smell the fragrance. It's absolutely wonderful.” Flora took the rose, thinking that Dana was quite charming and Alex could do worse than her as a prospective bride. She stopped and busied herself with task of smelling the rose. Too soon to be thinking in those terms. “It is wonderful, Dana. So you know about Evan?” “I do. That makes you a widow, does it not?” “Of sorts.” Flora looked at Dana anxiously. “Alex did what he thought best, Dana. Tell me - my relationship with him has never been close - but I do need to know. Has it been troubling him at all this week? He spends a lot of time with you. Is he still very upset by what he did? You must understand that Evan was very cruel to him, and he was defending Lissa at the time. He is normally a very gentle boy.” By the time she'd finished speaking Dana was looking thoroughly mystified. “I knew his father was dead. Are you saying that Alex had something to do with it?” “Oh…goodness.” There was a very long silence during which neither of them moved nor spoke until Flora regained use of her voice once more. “You don't know, do you?” Flora covered her mouth with a hand then she took Dana's arm and bustled her across the lawn. “Forget I said anything. Isn't your aunt's house wonderful? Will you be visiting us at the mansion sometime? You'd be very welcome.” 195
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“Flora, what are you talking about?” Dana stopped walking and shook herself free. “Is there something I should know about Alex?” “Oh dear.” Flora's heart sank as she realised what she'd said. “Excuse me, Dana, I think I need to talk to my son.” With that she left the surprised girl standing in the middle of the lawn and scurried away to find Alex. She found Damien in the music room, who told her he hadn't seen him, but she might try the gun room as it was Alex's favourite place. To her relief he was there, sitting at the table, shirtsleeves rolled back and busily oiling one of the guns. “Hello, Alex.” She sat carefully down on the other side of the table and waited for him to reply. “Mother.” He didn't look up as he worked diligently away. She was used to that, so she waited a few moments and continued. “I've just been speaking with Dana. She's very nice.” “She is.” Another long silence. Alex continued his cleaning and started to put the gun back together. “S'pose you've come to tell me she's too young for me.” He held the gun up to eye-level and inspected it. “She's safe with me. You should know that.” “Alex, stop that. I need to tell you something.” Flora couldn't hide the slight tremor in her voice. Alex noticed it immediately. 196
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He looked up and narrowed his eyes. “What?” “Oh dear, I don't quite know how to say this. Have you told Dana what happened to Evan?” “No yet, Mother. You didn't say anything?” “Not in so many words.” She was wringing her hands together now, fearing that any trust she'd managed to build between herself and Alex would be well and truly destroyed by this. “I didn't mean to. My tongue just runs away with me sometimes.” Alex stood up so abruptly that he nearly overturned his chair. “Bloody ‘ell, Mother. What did Dana say?” “She didn't say anything. You must forgive me, Alex. Where are you going?” She could see he wasn't listening any more. Instead, he grabbed a clean cloth and wiped his hands. She bit her lip as he rushed out of the door, muttering that he needed to find Dana. When he’d gone she sat in the now-quiet room and wondered what she'd done. And if he’d ever forgive her for it. **** Alex found Dana still in the garden, sitting on one of the benches, absently picking the petals from a rose. She looked up as he arrived and shook her head. “What's wrong with Flora? She was talking with me one minute then she rushed off to find you.” He sat beside her, dropping the oily rag to the ground and turning to her. 197
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“Your hands are oily. Have you been shooting?” “Earlier. I was just cleaning the guns. Dana, I need to tell you something.” “Is it to do with your father's death?” “I don't know 'ow to say it.” “Flora said you did something. She didn't say what.” “It's going to be a big shock. Do you understand?” “What, did you kill him or something?” She gave a little laugh then continued with her plucking. “He loves me, he loves me not.” She chanted it every time a petal came off. Alex swallowed hard and put his hand out. “Stop that a moment, and look at me.” She did as she was told, all of a sudden looking very young indeed, and he felt cruel for inflicting this on her. How would she ever understand? He said it as gently as he could, holding her hand and looking into her face. She looked straight back at him, never wavering until a few tears escaped and made their way down her cheeks. “I'll go, Dana. I'm so sorry.” When he tried to get up her hand tightened in his, keeping him in place even though he wanted to run away and hide. Evan had managed to ruin his childhood and his life and he was still doing it, even from beyond the grave. 198
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“She said he was cruel to you.” He nodded miserably. “And ’e was threatening Lissa.” “Then you had to do it?” “Just sort of happened. Don't know as I'd do it again, given a second chance.” “Don't run away, Alex. I wasn't there but I'm sure you did the right thing.” She was still crying silently so he reached around her and pulled her close. She lay against his chest, sniffling every now and then. He held her until she calmed down. “Sorry if I scared you.” “I've already told you. I don't scare that easily. I'm not crying because of that, I'm crying because I feel so sorry for you. You have to live with what you've done. Is it a very big burden?” “Not easy to live with. I told you, girl. Don't you go feeling sorry for me.” She wriggled free from him and wiped at her eyes. “I'll feel sorry for you if I want to. It's about time someone did. Why can't you just accept it?” “'Cause I ain't used to it, that's why. Don't know what to do with it.” “Then you'd better get used to it, Alex Lucius.” As her expression softened, he felt something inside of him melting. It was a strange and unfamiliar feeling and not 199
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entirely comfortable. As if she were looking right through him to something he'd never known existed. “I could show you what to do with it. Would you like that?” He was standing on the edge of something; he wasn't entirely sure what. Bit by bit something was coming together, and, whatever Fate had in store for him, this woman sitting beside him seemed determined to be a part of it. All he had to do was say yes to it.
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Chapter 33 The three days before the ball passed in a blur. When they looked back and tried to recall them, none of them could remember exactly what they'd done during that time. And if they did, they didn't speak of it. Time seemed to alternately speed up, slow down and stand still. Damien felt the inevitable confrontation with Crosbie speeding towards him, still unsure whether he was ready for it. Alicia spent the mornings feeling sick and the afternoons sitting anxiously, willing away the time. Her aunt gave up her attempts to interest her niece in the preparations for the ball so she was, thankfully, left alone. A few stolen moments with Damien were all Alicia managed. With so much activity in the house it was impossible to be alone and unobserved. Dana managed to avoid being dragged home by her father through the intervention of Aunt Joan, who declared that she couldn't possibly organise the ball all by herself and needed her niece to help her. Dana spent the time frantically looking out for Alex, who had disappeared without trace since their talk in the garden. He returned on the night before the ball, looking tired and unshaven but a little calmer. Evan's name wasn't mentioned again for many years. As she and Dana dressed and sat patiently while the maids arranged their hair, Alicia received a single red 201
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rose from Crosbie, together with a note stating that he would be making an announcement that evening regarding the date of their wedding. She threw it in the waste paper basket without so much as a second glance. **** “Don't see why we 'ave to wear these.” Alex threw down the white gloves onto Damien's bed. “Damned stupid things.” Damien picked them up for the third time and patiently handed them back. “It's what they do. Just wear them, will you? And aren't you going to shave? You're looking a bit rough at the moment.” Alex grinned wickedly, taking the gloves and glaring at them suspiciously. “That's the idea. Want Crosbie to know what 'e’s up against.” “No rough stuff, Alex. You heard what Mr. Gill said. Where've you been, anyway?” Alex shrugged and squeezed his hands into the gloves. He gave them another disgusted look and promptly took them off again. “Been back to the mansion. Something I needed to do.” “Are you going to tell me what?” Damien inspected himself in the mirror as he spoke, licking his finger and flattening his hair. It was shorter than he'd ever worn it and was showing a tendency to stick up haphazardly in strange spikes now that it didn't have the weight to hold it down. “Stupid barber. Look what he's done to my hair. I told him not to cut it too short.” “No, I'm not. What time do we go down?” 202
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“Eight o' clock.” Damien gave up trying to flatten his hair and took out his pocket watch. “That gives us an hour. All right, I won't ask again. Damn, I want this over with.” “Me too. You got everything packed?” “I have. And the girls are ready. Lady Carlington is lending us the carriage to get back to the mansion. We only need to get out in one piece.” “We will.” Alex picked up a pack of playing cards from the side table and took them out, shuffling them deftly. “Come on, I'll give you a couple of games to pass the time - only you're not to cheat.” Damien sat down on one side of the bed. Alex sat on the other. “I don't cheat.” “You bloody well do.” “Not as much as you do.” “I do not cheat.” “Yes you do.” “God, I want this over.” “Me too.” **** “Oh, Aunt Joan, it's gorgeous. Thank you.”
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Alicia sat still while her aunt fastened the diamond necklace around her neck. It looked, and probably was, fabulously valuable. The gift overwhelmed her. “It's a wedding present, my dear. I shall miss you.” Alicia turned and hugged her aunt, wiping a few stray tears from her eyes. “We're travelling on to Bath after we've packed some things from the mansion. Once our belongings are safely on their way north we will visit you, I promise. We still don't know what we’ll find in Rossendale, so we may be in need of a place to stay until the house is ready.” “Then you must spend Christmas with me.” “Oh, Aunt Joan, would you mind terribly if we celebrated Christmas at the new house? It's called Forest Park after the Great Forest of Rossendale, and I can't wait to see it. Why don't you come to us?” “No, you're right, my dear. You should spend your first Christmas as mistress in your own home. Then you will be getting ready for the baby. I will see you for that, I promise. Now come here, Dana, I haven't forgotten you.” Aunt Joan picked up a small velvet box from the dressing table, opened it and gave it to Dana. “This is for you.” Dana's eyes grew very wide when she saw the brooch. “Oh goodness, you can't mean to give this to me.” “Of course I do, my dear. Didn't I always say you would have it when you were grown-up?” 204
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“Look, Lissa.” Dana showed her the brooch, her eyes glowing as she took it from the box. “I've always loved this brooch. Will you put it on me, Aunt?” Aunt Joan pinned the brooch onto Dana's dress, chuckling as she did so. “I'm glad he's going to a good home. This little cat has always brought me luck. I hope it does the same for you.” The last few words came out rather muffled as Dana grabbed her in a hug. Then she stepped back. “Aunt, did Alex ask if he might be my escort to the ball?” “He did, Dana. It's not really my place to give him permission - that's your father's job, but I said yes anyway. I like him, Dana. Be sure you look after him.” “I will, Aunt, and thank you again. What time is it? I can't wait to go down.” She twirled a few times and ended on a little curtsey. “I want him to see this beautiful dress.” They didn't often see Aunt Joan cry. She always seemed to be either laughing or resolute, so it was a shock when she suddenly groped for her handkerchief and wiped frantically at her eyes. Both Dana and Alicia rushed to her side and put their arms around her while she sniffed and composed herself. “Now look what you've made me do! I am going to miss you both so much. Rossendale is so far away.” “Then you must visit us often. You will be most welcome,” Alicia said, wiping at her own eyes again. “This story would have had such a different ending had it not been for your help.” 205
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“Only doing what I do best, my dears. Goodness, is that the time? The guests will soon be starting to arrive. I can't let them see me like this.” She rose and kissed each of her nieces in turn, then stood back and inspected them. “I wish you both every happiness. You've fought hard to get this far and you deserve it. I couldn't be more pleased for you.” “We're not quite there yet, Aunt.” Alicia was grateful for her aunt's words, although, spoken at this stage, they seemed so much like tempting Fate that it sent a chill through her. Her aunt leaned forward and whispered in her ear. “I read the cards for you tonight. The signs are very good. Stop worrying.” That didn't really make Alicia feel much better. She'd never liked fortune-telling in any shape or form; it always felt like meddling in things they should not. She nodded politely and managed a small smile as her aunt left the room. She turned to Dana. “Have you packed your things?” “I have, Lissa. What's the mansion like?” “A little spooky, but very grand. Aunt Joan has managed to let it for Damien. A bunch of mad poets, I believe. Very fitting, don't you think? She's organising a group of trusted servants who will look after the place.” Dana slipped a hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. “It's going to be all right. If Aunt Joan says so, then it will be. She's never wrong.”
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Alicia sighed. “There's always a first time, Dana. Always a first time for everything.” **** “Smile, my sweet people are looking.” Alicia kept her gaze firmly fixed on the dance floor where everything was getting rather frantic. The dances had been a mixture of the old and the new as the country dance formations gave way to the more intimate, and rather scandalous, waltzes. As more wine and punch was consumed inhibitions loosened, and there was much laughter and galloping across the room with the younger men showing off to the ladies. The candles burned down and wax dripped from the chandeliers onto the dancers below. Glasses clinked, the noise level rose, and the playing of the orchestra seemed to grow more frantic. Aunt Joan's affairs always ended up like this. There was nothing restrained about them. People came from miles around when they heard she was hosting a ball. A good time was always guaranteed. There was food set out for the partygoers in the dining room and rooms were set aside for the ladies to retire to when they needed a little rest from the frenzy. Maids were on hand to help repair their hair, make-up, or even their dresses which often sustained damage due to the vigorous dancing. There had already been tears when someone had stood on a young lady's dress and ripped the hem. Aunt Joan had sorted it out with her usual tact and the damage had been duly repaired. On the other side of the dance floor stood Damien, a glass in hand, glaring across at Crosbie. Alicia hadn't spoken to him all evening, having been very careful not to make too much eye contact. Crosbie was watching 207
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her very closely, and, whereas she didn't need to pretend that she liked Crosbie, she did need to keep up the pretence that the wedding would go on as planned. She hoped Damien wasn't drinking too much. He would need all his wits about him for this to succeed. Poor thing. As she'd suspected. he'd spent all evening politely making small talk with a whole host of mothers and daughters. At one point he'd all but disappeared, with a crowd of them around him, and it was hard not to be able to go to his rescue. In truth he seemed to be doing more listening than talking. Alicia could see that he was desperately trying to both appear sociable, and watch her and Crosbie at the same time. “Lord Rossendale has been a houseguest at Lady Carlington's these past few weeks, has he not?” “She has many guests, Crosbie.” Alicia tried to keep as calm as possible. Her heart raced at the unexpectedness of the question. “How does she know him, my dear?” “She met him on the Continent, I believe. He's been out of the country.” “If you ever cheat on me, Alicia, you will have cause to regret it.” “I hate you, Crosbie.” She stated it plainly and simply, with a smile on her face, and from the outside they looked just like a couple having a pleasant chat about the weather or something as inconsequential. A few people, who had got wind of some of the details of the affair surrounding her disappearance, gave them pointed 208
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looks as they passed. Generally, though, the scandal seemed to have blown over. Alicia stiffened when Crosbie's hand cover hers. He chuckled and squeezed even harder, causing her to bite her lip. “Perhaps I shall release you from the engagement? Would you like me to do that?” He turned to her, his face unreadable, and her heart flipped over. Even as she realised he was just playing with her she couldn't help the brief expression of hope that flitted across her face. Her reaction seemed to satisfy him. He nodded and continued. “Perhaps I shall marry Dana instead. I do declare that you have become very dour since you returned, Alicia, and she looks so young and fresh. Look at her, dancing with that buffoon. He is Lord Rossendale's cousin, is he not? I hear she is quite sweet on him.” “Have you been spying on me, Crosbie?” Alicia watched Dana and Alex dancing. His lack of practice didn't stand out too much amongst all the drunken revelry. “Of course I have, my love. It must have been quite tempting for you - sharing a house with two rich and handsome men. Have you been a good girl, Alicia?” She shook her hand free and took a deep breath to calm herself. She had no idea how much he knew of her involvement with Damien. Was he simply playing them at their own game? Perhaps they had underestimated Crosbie after all? 209
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When she was sufficiently calm she turned to him. “You've been spying on me, so why don't you answer that question?” He laughed and patted her knee. “Anyone else would have been tempted. But you are such a prude, Alicia, I am so going to enjoy being married to you.” He leaned very close and whispered in her ear. “I have such a lot to teach you.” Thankfully, at that moment Aunt Joan chose to intervene, holding out a hand to Alicia. Crosbie looked up at her, obviously annoyed at the interruption. “I am going to freshen up. Come with me, my dear. You look in need of it.” Crosbie straightened again. “Make sure you bring her back quickly. I find it a great comfort to have Alicia here beside me.” Alicia rose and Aunt Joan looked Crosbie coolly in the eye. “I've never liked you, Crosbie, and I'm not going to pretend to start now,” she said tartly. “You are invited here only because of Alicia and my brother.” “Charming, as always, Lady Carlington. Just bring her back.” From across the other side of the room Damien made his excuses to the group of ladies surrounding him. He signalled to Alex, who stopped dancing, took hold of Dana's hand and led her from the floor. Alicia was aware of them all leaving the room while she followed her aunt. She’d imagined being more nervous than this, but meeting Crosbie again had only served to sharpen her resolve. He wasn't having her - or Dana. She didn't yet 210
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know what lengths they would have to go to in order to stop that happening. The time had come for them to find out. **** Damien had only managed to escape from all the noise for a few moments. when he'd gone out to relieve himself and ducked into an empty room on the way back to catch a few minutes alone. He'd dropped into an armchair and tried to compose himself. He must not get too angry at having to watch Alicia and Crosbie together. She looked terribly unhappy - obviously trying to put on a brave face. Crosbie had been just as he'd expected. Slightly disfigured by his accident, but still the epitome of charm and good breeding. Damien had to wonder how many girls, apart from Alicia and Anna, had fallen for his smooth talk. A group of ladies discovered him and insisted he return to the ballroom. They then proceeded to drop very pointed hints about dance cards, upon which he'd pleaded an injury which stopped him from taking too much exercise. Goodness, but they are persistent, he thought. It felt as if he’d been formally introduced to every single young woman in the county. And when they’d satisfied their curiosity as to his marital status, they turned the subject to Alex. Damien couldn't for the life of him work out why the ladies should be so attracted to the unshaven look Alex was presently sporting. For some reason this slightly wild, rather dangerous look was causing women to swoon all over him. Dana had been alternating between an expression that suggested alarm at their attention, and smugness that it was she who was his partner. 211
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Women want it all, Damien thought, shaking his head and realising that he'd never really understand them. He wondered what a woman's ideal man would be. Some sort of piratical poet, he suspected. Someone who would sweep them off their feet and carry them away, while reciting poetry and presenting them with flowers, and complimenting them on their clothes at the same time. Dana's father had at first approved of Alex as Dana’s escort, until he'd spotted Alex and Damien together and had suddenly realised who Alex was. He'd marched across the room and dragged Dana away. She'd reappeared a few moments later and had since been openly defying her father by continuing to associate with them. Her father had spent the rest of the evening glaring at her, while trying not to create a public scene. She'd very pointedly refused to catch his eye or acknowledge his attempts to speak to her. Damien knew they couldn't now think of leaving her behind. He had been greatly relieved when Lady Carlington separated Alicia from Crosbie as they'd prearranged. Alex stopped his attempts at dancing as soon as he saw Damien's signal, and they were now standing in the hallway, planning their next move. “Dana, fetch Flora and take her to your bedroom. Wait for us there. Whatever happens, one of us will come for you. Are your things ready?” Dana nodded, looking rather nervous and creeping nearer to Alex, who gave her a brief hug. “Don't worry. Going to be fine. Just be ready.”
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Dana straightened and nodded. “Don't forget me, will you?” “’Course we won't. Get Mother. You won't be by yourself.” They watched Dana walk back into the ballroom to search for Flora, all the while nodding politely at a small party who were leaving early. Lady Carlington made her goodbyes, then joined them. “Where did you put the statement, Damien?” “It's in my bedroom, Lady Carlington. Is Alicia in the study?” “She's waiting for you. Alex, why don't you go and join her while Damien fetches the papers? Will you be needing Jonathan to drive you tonight?” “No, I'll do that,” Alex replied. “We just need the carriage ready.” “It is, my boy. Oh dear, here I go again. I don't know what's come over me tonight.” She took out her handkerchief, dabbing at her eyes as she looked them over. “I'll say my goodbyes for now, but do expect a visit from me in the near future. Alicia has said you might travel north via Bath?” “We will, Lady Carlington. There's a lot to organise and we can't just turn up at Forest Park after all this time.” Damien stepped forward and hugged her. He stepped back and allowed Alex do the same. “Goodness, Alex,” Lady Carlington managed after he'd hugged all the breath out of her. “If I was twenty years 213
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younger, you wouldn't stand a chance. I like your new look.” Alex rubbed at his stubbled chin a little self-consciously. “Thanks for everything, Lady C.” “I need to pay you for the clothes and settle the bill for the inn. You've been most generous.” Damien suddenly remembered that they'd been living off her goodwill for the past few weeks. “I don't want to hear another word about that. Now, both of you, get yourselves in place and I will fetch Crosbie.” Damien nodded and turned for the stairs. Alex walked down the corridor to the study. Damien opened his bedroom door, the weight of responsibility heavy on his shoulders. Everything rested on what he did next. Tonight they either returned to the safe familiarity of the mansion, or they could be on the run to who-knewwhere. In the past few months, each of them had changed beyond measure. He was no longer the man Lissa had met on the cliff road that night. Whether she'd given him this confidence, or just brought out something that was already there, he didn't know. What he did know was that he could do this, and he would do this. For Lissa he couldn't let her down. He'd do anything to save her from this, and for the first time since he'd met her, he truly felt confident that she might allow him to. **** Alicia jumped to her feet when Alex entered the study. 214
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“Where are they?” “Damien’s fetching the papers and Lady C's fetching Crosbie. You nervous?” “I am a little, now. Do you think Crosbie will actually come?” “’Ope so, otherwise this ain't going to work too well, is it?” “Not the way we've planned.” Alex seated himself on the sofa. Alicia couldn't rest. Pacing the room, waiting for Damien and Crosbie to arrive, she spotted the drinks cabinet. “Drink with me, Alex.” “Go on then. I'll 'ave one.” Alex got up and stood by her while she poured them two very large brandies She'd drained half of the glass and gone into a fit of coughing before he'd finished talking. His hand, patting her gently on the back as she recovered, reminded her again of the night they'd got drunk at the mansion. It had been the brandy that had made her so sick, and she'd thought that never again could she stand the smell of it. Yet here she was, gulping it down and hoping it might give her a little more courage than she felt right now. The longer she waited for Crosbie to arrive, the more agitated she became. Eventually she felt Alex take the glass from her and set it down. “Think you've 'ad enough. Come and sit with me.”
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He led her back to the sofa and she followed without protest. The brandy was already having an effect; making her lean against him, giggling as they flopped down together. “Are you growing a beard, Alex? It makes you look very devilish.” “Good.” He gave her a wolfish grin and scratched his cheek. “Bloody itchy when it's like this. Reckon I'll shave when we get 'ome.” Alicia sighed and closed her eyes. “We'll be home soon, Alex. What's keeping them?” **** Crosbie found them sitting on the sofa, Alicia in the middle, the two men on either side, and the pieces of the puzzle he’d been going over and over in his mind all fell into place. So that was where she'd been hiding. He wondered that he hadn't pieced it all together before, cursing Alicia silently for the injury that had slowed his wits and given him the appearance of a drooling idiot. Evan. The Lucius Mansion. The Rossendale title. They were staring him in the face. He simply hadn't looked hard enough. Yet, now he knew, his reaction was one of relief. These three youngsters, now standing and facing him, gave him nothing to worry about at all. He stared them out for a few seconds then he laughed long and hard. He was good at this and they were so obviously innocents. Lord Rossendale's hands were shaking, his cousin looked like nothing more than an ignorant thug, and Alicia was as white as a sheet.
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His laughter had unnerved them, he could see that. They’d obviously come prepared for a confrontation. Faced with his contempt, they didn’t seem to know how to proceed. “Do you know,” he began, staring straight at Alicia, “for a moment there, I thought I needed to be concerned. Is this all you have?” “You should be concerned, Crosbie. Tell him, Damien.” Crosbie didn't miss the familiarity between Damien and Alicia. Her hand on his arm, the way he responded to her. She'd known Lord Rossendale for longer than tonight. “Come with me now, Alicia, and I might be prepared to forget this insult. We can still avert another scandal. And you,” he nodded towards Damien. “How much do you want to just leave? Everyone has their price.” **** All eyes were on him. Damien stepped forward and stood squarely in front of the man who'd caused them so much grief. The confidence he was feeling didn't just come from inside him. It came from the people around him too. Alex and Alicia standing at his back, combined with the wonderful feeling that Alicia was charging him alone with this great responsibility, made him feel quite invincible. All he saw when he looked at Crosbie now was a sad, broken-down man who was rather desperately trying to save face. Crosbie spotted the paper Damien had in his hand, and a look of mild panic crossed his face. Pushing Alicia aside, he tried to walk past them, muttering that 217
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Lady Carlington would hear about this insulting behaviour. Alex stepped into his path. “Where the 'ell do you think you're going?” “Get out of my way, you idiot.” Crosbie raised his stick. Alex had it off him easily. He threw it down and stood in front of the door, arms folded, a determined look on his face. “Think we'd like you to stay.” Damien had jumped at Crosbie's sudden movement and even more so at Alex's. Crosbie tried for the door again, rather unsteadily without his cane. Alex only had to give him a small shove to pitch him backwards into an armchair. Damien moved to stand by his cousin, aware that Alicia now had her hand over her mouth. He could see laughter in her eyes, that she was desperately trying to suppress, and he had to avoid her gaze, otherwise he would start laughing too. It wasn't that the situation was amusing. More a feeling of hysteria. Alex and Crosbie were now glaring at each other. Every time Crosbie tried to leave the chair Alex would promptly knock him back in again. Damien managed to compose himself, and coughed theatrically before speaking. “I must apologise for my cousin. He tends to lose control. Terrible temper, you see.” Crosbie's head swivelled round to glare at him. When he opened his mouth to speak, Alex interrupted him. “Let me take 'im outside. I'll sort out your problem for you - if you get my meaning.” 218
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Damien guessed what Alex was doing. He picked up the thread. “That won't be necessary, Alex. I'm sure Crosbie is willing to see reason. Release Alicia from the engagement, Crosbie, and we'll be on our way and trouble you no more.” Damien saw Alicia nodding encouragingly at him, which must mean that he'd sounded convincing even though he was shaking inside. Crosbie's face had turned a strange shade. He took in a deep breath. “In your wildest dreams, perhaps. But not in this lifetime, Lord Rossendale. Now cease this stupidity and let me up.” Damien shook his head. “It would be a great pity if you were to force my hand, Crosbie. I was hoping to avoid unpleasantness.” “Then you should have thought twice before presuming to take me on. I demand that you let me go.” Even as Crosbie cowered from Alex he was shooting murderous looks at Alicia. Damien knew that she could never be left alone with him again. He also realised something else as he saw her expression of shock, contempt and hatred. He'd already got everything he wanted out of this confrontation. All he really needed was Alicia's trust and confidence in him, and she'd given that unreservedly. This wasn’t about showing off his manliness, or being 219
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better than her. The strength she showed in times of trouble was a part of who she was. A part he loved very much. Damien knew exactly what he had to do. “Take this, Alicia. You are the wronged party. This is between you and Crosbie now. Alex and I will be here if you need us.” Alex grinned broadly at this unexpected development and nodded in agreement. Alicia turned a shocked face to Damien. “But I though you wanted to do this?” “I thought that too. But, do you know, all I really wanted was to know that you believed in me.” “Oh I do, Damien. You must understand that by now.” She walked across the room to him and took the paper he was offering. Reaching up, she kissed him on the cheek. He guessed that it was as much a thank-you as a demonstration to Crosbie of where her heart lay. Her hand slipped into his. “Thank you, Damien. I love you very much,” she whispered as she turned to her tormentor. Crosbie raised his eyebrows and nodded at the paper. “What a thoroughly nauseating display. So, you've written me another letter, have you? The answer is the same, my dear.” “No,” Alicia began in a clear voice. “It's not a letter, but something I think you'll find interesting.” She held up the paper and scanned it briefly before raising her eyes once more. “Very interesting indeed.” **** 220
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It was the last thing she'd expected Damien to do; she knew how much confronting Crosbie for her had meant to him. How better could he have shown his love for her? After her lack of trust in him at the mansion he deserved this moment, yet he was giving it to her. As she whispered a thank-you she kept hold of his hand, hoping that he realised they were still really doing this together. “Let me hear it then. I am in need of a laugh.” Crosbie leaned back into the chair and made a show of making himself comfortable, steepling his fingers and resting his chin on them. Alicia could see, however, the way his gaze kept flicking somewhat anxiously to the incriminating paper. Damien gave her hand a squeeze as she began reading. Within moments it was over. Alex allowed Crosbie to stand and they all waited while he straightened his jacket and picked up his cane. “There are many fish in the sea, Alicia. Think on that, will you. You may have her, Lord Rossendale. She's really not worth the bother.” Crosbie moved towards the door. “You'll need to keep her well-satisfied to retain her interest, you know.” He stopped and thought about what he'd said, then he gave a short dry laugh. “Ahh, I have it now. All the sickness and pleading of illness. Yes, I understand. Now we must ask ourselves - which of us fathered it?” “Nice try, Crosbie.” Damien joined in at this point, much to Alicia's relief. “We never want to see or hear from you again. We will forget about you, if you promise to forget about us. It’s simple enough. Oh, and there are to be no 221
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repercussions against Anna or the child she had with you. You must give up all rights to it.” Crosbie said only two words before he walked unsteadily out of their lives. “What child?” **** They all stared at the empty space that, moments earlier, Crosbie had occupied. Even though he'd gone, his energy still seemed to fill the void and for a moment none of them could move. Damien still had hold of Alicia's hand, and slowly he pulled her to him and wrapped his arms about her. She brought her own arms around him and they held each other, almost unable to believe she was free at last, and finally his. He released her so she could go to Alex, who was standing quietly by, and as he watched them embrace Damien was overtaken by an urge to laugh long and loud. It didn't seem right to gloat - probably more of a release of tension than anything. A left-over of the hysteria they'd felt earlier. Whatever it was, he couldn't help it. After all the years of pain and struggle, he finally had a real chance at happiness. Years of heartbreak and aching loneliness that had nearly culminated in death at his own hand because he couldn't stand it any more now they were firmly behind him. It was as if he could finally breathe freely at last. And the future, which he'd always run away from, was now welcoming and beckoning him with promises of companionship and love, 222
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family and laughter, comfort and togetherness. He welcomed it with open arms. Alicia called him over and they all stood together - he and Alex on either side of her - and the smiles turned into grins, the grins into laughter. And the laughter echoed down the years, and filled their lives. In a lifetime of laughter, Damien was to always remember this moment as the one where he'd been the happiest of all.
Epilogue The Lucius Journals What happened to us after we left Shell Bay House that night? I have encouraged everyone to keep journals and write letters, for it will be comforting to look back on our lives and remember what we have done. We need to remember… Extracts from thoughts, journals and letters 1835 1866 From the journal of Damien Lucius, Lord Rossendale. December 1835 We left the mansion at the beginning of October, having sent a legal representative to Rossendale to claim back Forest Park, which we discovered was being inhabited by 223
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one of my mill managers. He had also been stealing my money on a vast scale and, fearing prison, he left willingly and, unfortunately, with most of the furniture, never to be heard of again. The servants followed suit, all save a few very old retainers who had nowhere to go. This served to delay us in Bath for longer than we'd have liked. Mr. Stanton visited me at the mansion before we left and demanded his daughters back. Alicia and Dana knew about this, but they do not know what I did to get rid of him and perhaps I will never tell them. A large quantity of gold was able to buy him off with a promise that he would never bother us again. I have no doubt he will squander it, but it has bought us some peace of mind. It was with a great sense of relief that I made Alicia my wife in the third week of October. In the event, we posted banns at the local parish church, as this was quicker than obtaining a Special Licence. What God has joined together, no man will ever tear apart. I would have liked to have delayed our journey north, as winter was setting in and I thought Alicia should now wait until after the baby was born before undertaking so arduous a trek. But she was, and always has been, one of the most stubborn people I have ever met. I had no peace until, at the beginning of December and during a spell of exceptionally mild weather, I agreed that we might go. I still had no idea what state we were going to find the house in, but Alicia was adamant that the baby should be born at Forest Park. Aunt Joan, as she insists that I now call her, lent us her best coach and found us a driver who was happy to stay on and work for us at Forest Park. Such a journey is not for the faint-hearted in the winter, as many of the roads 224
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were in poor repair, but the driver was a sensible lad who managed to avoid most of the potholes, and did not seem too fond of speed. We broke our journey in Gloucester because I wanted to see the great Cathedral where Edward the Second was buried after his horrible murder at Berkley Castle. As Bath Abbey had been, it was an impressive place, and we stayed overnight at the New Inn in the town centre that was built to accommodate people who came in medieval times for the old king’s funeral. Dana seemed to thoroughly enjoy the journey, thinking nothing of the cold and the bumpy road. Flora endured it, although I could see that she was worried about Alicia. My poor darling didn't complain once, even though she was still quite horribly sick in the mornings. Once her mind is made up and her path set she stays on it no matter what. As we travelled north the landscape changed from the soft rolling green of Devon to the grim reality that is the industrialised north of England. We took a detour so that we could cross the iron bridge at Coalbrookdale, the first of its kind in the whole world. Manchester was, and still is, the noisiest and most crowded place that I have ever seen. I have yet to visit London, which I hear is even worse. I am amazed that people can live like this, and wonder at the mentality of the mill owners who treat their workers so. Yet the place seemed to have a special energy of its own. Something that I have never felt before. It was both frightening and terribly exciting. A great change is coming over this country, and it seems that I am to be part of it. **** 225
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From the Journal of Alicia Lucius, Lady Rossendale. December 1835 To the north of Manchester the landscape changed yet again. The beginning of high, craggy hills and bleak moorland hemmed us in, reminding us that we were nearing our destination. I was already prepared to love Forest Park, but I was quite shocked at the instant affinity that I felt for the place. It was as if it had been waiting for us, and it embraced us with such an air of welcome that I have felt happy here since the moment we arrived. I'm glad all the furniture was stolen, as it meant we could start again and make our own mark on the place. A light snow started falling as we passed through the village of Holcombe and took the high road that gave us the most magnificent view over the valley below. I had, thankfully, stopped feeling sick for the day, so I was able to appreciate it along with everyone else. Dana was in such a frenzy of excitement about it all. This is the furthest she has ever been from home, yet she shows no trace of nervousness, nor homesickness for Devon. Everything she saw was commented on, and pointed out, and we were all made to look at it. Alex is most patient with her and indulges her every whim. It was turning very cold as we climbed towards Helmshore village, passing two of Damien's mills as we did so. A group of mill workers stopped and watched the coach pass through the village. I was shocked to see how tired and dirty they all looked. So many women and children amongst them. I felt so sorry for their sad and sorry state. As we made our way up the sweeping driveway of Forest Park and caught the first glimpse of our new 226
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home I was already thinking that I would like to do something to help them. **** Christmas day 1835 Flora We have been in the house barely two weeks and things are, quite understandably, still unsettled. Some of the older servants have stayed on, but the former tenant has made off with all of the silverware and any pieces of furniture that were easily transportable. Alex managed to bag us a goose which we roasted and ate around the kitchen table as we had always done at the mansion. There were still some stocks left in the wine cellar so a merry time was had by all. I must confess to becoming quite tipsy myself. I tried to make sure that Dana was limited to one glass only, but I suspect that she may have sneaked some behind my back, as by the end of the evening she was in a very giggly mood. She organised games such as blind man's bluff in the evening, which ended with a group of carollers knocking at the door. Damien invited them in and we all sang carols in the hall before passing around more wine. I have never seen my Damien so relaxed and happy. He seems to be losing that slightly anxious expression he always used to wear, and Lissa is blossoming as the baby grows. Alex is a solid, quiet presence who has worked very hard in the background, making sure there is food on the table and wood for the fires. He has been with Damien to visit the mills that are dotted about the valley and is an invaluable support to him. There is a lot of work to do and they are, between them, determined 227
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to bring the mills up to standard and look after the workers a little better than they have been so far. It is so different here from Devon. I do not know if I will ever get used to it. However, as long as my family is here, then I will be happy. We ended the day gathered around the fire. Damien insisted that I have the only armchair in the drawing room while the others made themselves comfortable on the rug. Lissa with her head in Damien's lap. Dana asleep against Alex. Those two are really very sweet together and I have high hopes for them. I ended the day alone and said a prayer for Evan before I retired. May God have mercy on his soul. Dana Alex never did carry me out of the ball, but he did carry me to bed tonight. He laid me down, leaned over and kissed me very gently, thinking me to be asleep. The wine must have made me bold, for I pulled him down and held him until he kissed me again. There is so much I have to learn. I think Alex must have kissed a woman before, for he seemed to know exactly what to do and I want him to teach me everything. It was a most pleasant feeling which left my heart racing and my skin tingling. Now that he is gone all I want is for him to return and do it again. Does that make me a wanton, or is this normal? I would ask Lissa, but she would probably give me a lecture on it. Alex has been most gentlemanly so far, although I do not want him to be any more. However, if anything is to happen between us I think it is going to have to be up to me. 228
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Alex - random thoughts I think I would like to keep a journal too. Dana is always offering to teach me to read and write and the time has come for me to do so. Up till now I haven't had any memories that I would have liked to keep, but the future is looking good right now. It would be nice to write some things down so that when I am old I can remember it all. **** May 1836 Damien The heir to the Rossendale title was born this morning. We've named him Damien, but he's to be known as Dan to avoid confusion. Lissa had an easy time of it in the event. She hit when me when I said that and told me that I could have the next and then we would see how easy it was. Flora assured me it wasn't a difficult birth. I'll never forget it and managed to stay throughout, even though all the blood made me feel quite queasy. Lissa was so brave and young Dan is such a serious little soul. Flora declares he is me reborn, and that babies never smile when they are newborn. Dan already has the look of a wise old man and I can tell that he is going to be a thinker, and perhaps a worrier like me. I only hope that he can go out into the sunshine. That we will not know for a while. Alicia
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I really do not care for pregnancy and childbirth. The sickness was most wearing, but young Dan is such a delight and being a parent is so different from what I imagined it to be. How is it that you can love someone so instantly and unreservedly the moment you set eyes on them? Dan stares at me so trustingly with those big blue eyes of his and, when I manage to get him all to myself, it is as if we two are sharing a great secret. Flora is completely besotted with him and rarely lets us have him to ourselves. It is nice to have him in bed with us before we put him down for the night and just to watch him sleep. Through him I feel closer to Damien than ever. Our other news is that Aunt Joan came to visit and, quite unexpectedly, brought her new husband, Mr. Gill, with her. So like her. They are going to live part of the year in Italy and we hope to visit them soon. Mr Gill worked very hard while he was here, sorting out Damien's finances. We have managed to buy some new furnishings for the house, as well as set aside a sum for the school that I am determined to found. I should also like to do something specifically for our women workers who have such a bad time of it. Last week a baby was born on the floor of the weaving shed. How can that be right? July 1836 Alex - random thoughts I am slowly learning this reading and writing that everyone says is so important. Perhaps I will start a journal soon when I have mastered a few more words. Dana turned eighteen today, thank God, for I do not think I could have held out much longer. I promised Lissa I would wait, and I have, but Dana would try the 230
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patience of a saint and seems to have taken a particular delight in torturing me these last few months. We are to be married at the end of August. **** November 1838 Flora I have my hands quite full at the moment with a new baby in the nursery. Damien and Lissa now have a daughter named Lizzie who was born in July. She is already an independent little madam, even at four months old. Young Dan adores his new sister and has declared solemnly that he will look after everyone when he is older. He has such an old head on his shoulders, but is proving a very intelligent little lad and already showing a talent for the piano. We are beginning to suspect that he may have an intolerance to the sun, though thankfully it seems to be nowhere near as bad as Damien's, and as long as he is careful he can stay outside for a short while without suffering harm. I know I should not have favourites amongst the children, but I cannot help it. Dan will always be first in my heart, because he reminds me so much of my Damien. I would not wish to be anywhere else on this earth. **** March 1841 Damien Both sadness and happiness to report. Dana and Alex have a son who almost made his appearance during a 231
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carriage ride in the countryside. Poor Alex just about managed to get Dana home in time and Flora had to stand in as midwife. Dana is well, but young Tom is, I suspect, going to be quite a handful. He will not be put down and someone must hold him constantly or he screams the place down. The sad news was that Lissa lost the baby she was carrying. She was born too early to survive, but was baptised before she died and we named her Jenny. Lissa, who has been very brave about it, has told me that she doesn't want to go through this again. It is just too traumatic for her. I would have liked a large family, although the decision is hers. She has said that perhaps we may think about adopting a child when she has recovered as there are so many homeless children in the world who need our help. So typical of her, and we certainly have enough room here. I think I should like to do that. Shortly after Tom's birth Dana suffered an infection and we feared we might lose her. Alex was beside himself and sat with her night and day until the fever broke. The doctors say she will probably have no more children, but we were all very relieved that she was spared. It has taught us not to take all this for granted, for it might so easily be taken away from us in the blink of an eye. I tell Lissa I love her every day, as I would hate for something to happen and not to have said it. I never have been a religious man, but I thank God every day for this wonderful gift he has given me. **** 1842 232
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Dana There was a terrible explosion at one of the mills which killed four of our workers. We have done what we can for the families, although it will never compensate those poor children for the loss of their parents. One little girl, a four-year-old named Bella, was left with no one in the world. Facing the prospect of the poorhouse. She was brought to Forest Park by the family who had taken her in, and we were asked if we could find a place for her as they could not afford another mouth to feed. How could I resist her? She looked so sad and bemused that I knew I had to do something. Alex and I plan to adopt her legally once we have made investigations regarding her family. Lissa and I have often talked of doing this and we have space and love to spare here. Tom is rather jealous of her and has become very clingy, but it will be good for him to have a sister. All we can do is reassure him that we still love him very much. Dan is being his usual sweet self and has made Bella very welcome. Lizzie, too, seems to want to be friends with her. Flora is in her element with all these children to look after and the house is full of love and laughter. **** March 1848 Alicia It took a long time to get over the loss of my daughter. Even though she was so small, and lived only a few hours, I still think of her every day and wonder what she would look like now. I thought about adopting a child as Alex and Dana had, but every time I tried all I saw was my Jenny's face. It seemed somehow as if we were 233
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trying to replace her, and that did not feel right. However, last night I had the strangest dream. It was as if Jenny were talking to me. Telling me that she would not mind if we did have another child, because she is happy where she is and there are children here who need us. I awoke feeling rather sad. Then on my weekly visit to the orphanage the strangest thing happened. A girl of about seven years old, very small and delicate, approached me and curtsied most politely. She then asked if she might come and live with us as she did not care for the orphanage one bit. She was newly arrived and, like so many children, had no-one left to care for her. It is not the first time that Fate has intervened in my life and I suspect it will not be the last. This meeting resulted in Alice becoming part of our family. She is such a charming child, and has settled in with us as if she has always been here. She has the appearance of a porcelain doll, but underneath it all there is a determined streak, such as I have never seen in a child before. I cannot help loving her as my own. She gets on well with the other children – all except Tom, who teases her mercilessly because she likes girlish things, and I think, because she is the youngest. I hope that he will come round in time. **** July 1849 Damien I am sitting in the summer-house watching the children playing on the lawn. They are very understanding of my condition and always remember to come and sit with me or come walking with me in the evening. I wish I could be out there with them now. 234
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I also wish that Jenny could be here with us. She had no chance at life, and I still feel her loss. It seems so cruel to be given a child and know that it is yours, then have it taken away from you. It is a great relief that the other children are robustly healthy. They are a wonderful gift, even though I can't help worrying that something might happen to any one of them. I try to spend as much time with them as I can. Dan tolerates the sun for brief periods and knows himself when he must seek the shade. I do not think that he will let it be a handicap to him. He is the sweetest boy, always looking out for the younger ones. He takes his role as the oldest very seriously, and they all look up to him despite the fact that he is studious and quiet. He will do well in life. I think that Lizzie would have liked to have been a boy. She is out there now, wearing a pair of Dan's old trousers, and poor Flora is quite scandalised by her. She has such a spirit of adventure about her and is definitely Lissa's daughter. I have no doubt that she will achieve everything she sets out to do in life. Alice has made such an effort to be part of the family. We all love her dearly and she repays us tenfold. She likes nothing more than to sit at my feet and have me read to her, and is always trying to help with things. I think sometimes that she feels she has to work harder than the others because she fears that this might all be taken away from her. We do our best to reassure her that we will always love her and that we understand how she feels. She seems to fear being alone, and I, especially, can empathise with this.
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Bella is forthright and confident and is going to be quite a beauty. She likes nothing better than to go shooting with her brother and father and is already an expert shot. Poor Tom never did get over not remaining the centre of his parents’ attention. He is a loveable lad, but very impulsive and hot-tempered. I do not know why he gives Alice such a hard time. Perhaps it is that he finds it impossible to tease Lizzie and Bella because they give as good as they get. Or perhaps it is simply because Alice is the youngest and the smallest. He is not so much a bully, but does not seem to be able to stop himself. I wonder if he secretly admires her and that is what this is all about. **** Christmas 1851 Alice I do declare that Tom is the meanest boy I have ever met. He does nothing but pull my hair and make faces at me. Mama says it is because he likes me and wants my attention, but he has a funny way of showing it. I turn my nose up when he comes near me, for he is so rough and uncouth. He seems to take a particular delight in getting himself as dirty as possible and he will not join in with the entertainment we are planning for the adults this Christmas. All he does is make rude noises and sing silly words to the songs. When I told Uncle Alex, he merely said was that boys will be boys. Tom Alice is such a simpering idiot of a girl. I only have to look at her and she cries. It is no fun teasing her when it is so easy. When I pulled Bella's hair she knocked me 236
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into the lake, but Alice only sat and wailed because I'd pulled her curls loose. They won't let me join in the Christmas entertainment because they say I am too silly. I don't want to be in it, so there. Dan I have written a short play which we will be performing on Christmas Eve. Bella is to take the part of the handsome prince and Alice is to be the princess. Lizzie will play the woodsman and I shall be musical director. Tom was to have been the villain, but he cannot be serious about anything. Bella gave him a bloody nose this morning because he laughed at her singing, and Uncle Alex had to be called to separate them. If Tom will not co-operate then I shall have to play the part myself. I do not like performing. My tutor says that I might try for Oxford or Cambridge in a few years time. I will think on it, though I do not know if I would like to travel so far from home. Dana The children gave us great amusement today with their Christmas play. Bella and Lizzie had us in stitches with their manly striding-about. I do declare that they should both have been boys. Alice was so pretty as the princess, and it is nice to have one girl in the family who appreciates beautiful gowns and such. Dan was his usual serious self as he conducted the singing and Tom was absent for the whole performance. His father found him in the cellar, eventually, in a monumental sulk. It took a whole hour to persuade to come back upstairs. Flora claims that he will be the death of her. I am heartened though that, despite his 237
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boisterous nature, he is the most generous child I have ever met and has a smile that would melt the heart of a stone statue. I love him dearly, although he is so reckless that I sometimes wonder how he will ever reach manhood. And what can I say about my Alex, other than that every expectation that I had of him has been fulfilled? He is loving and hardworking and would do anything for me and the children. They simply adore him. He is the only one who can do anything with Tom when he is in one of his moods. My husband has never ceased to surprise me, and has a strange fascination for haylofts. I swear that one day we will be caught up there by one of the children. Alex Christmas Day, and Tom chose to give us all the fright of our lives by falling out of the apple tree, yet again. From the amount of screaming from Alice we all thought he had killed himself this time. Thankfully, he survived it with only a broken arm. More screaming and swearing from Tom as the doctor set it for him, then the poor lad passed clean out. He is a handful, but I think he will do all right as he has a very kind heart under all the bravado. I love my little family very much. Random letters and journal entries to May 1856 Alicia We have achieved such a great deal since we came here. Three new streets were added to the village this year and all our mill-worker's children are now in school on a daily basis. Lizzie has been helping with the teaching, 238
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and I am wondering whether her extreme enthusiasm in this matter might have anything to do with the new headmaster who has just taken up his post there. Mr. Nicholas Johnson is recently returned from Africa where he led an expedition into the interior. Lizzie seems most taken with his tales and talks of nothing else but going there herself. I have so far managed to talk her out of it. Our good friend Sir Robert Peel, the Prime Minister, died unexpectedly in 1850, and Damien made a large contribution to his memorial in the nearby town of Bury where he was born. I stood in for Damien at the opening of the Peel Tower in 1852, which stands at the top of Holcombe Hill behind Forest Park. Alex, Damien, Dan and I travelled down to London for The Great Exhibition at the Crystal Palace in Hyde Park in 1851. As it was a giant glasshouse, Damien had to attend in the evening. Dan was most taken with it all and wants to be an inventor. Dan did very well at Cambridge University where he studied engineering, although he came home three times during the first term because he was homesick, declaring that he wasn't going back. We managed to persuade him to return and he is now touring Italy with a friend and his family. We will all join him at the Tuscan villa in September, where we will also catch up with Aunt Joan and Constantine. Wendy and her four children visit us every summer and we see them when we go down to Devon. It is such a long way though, and I do miss her. Damien still paints and writes poetry, although he does not have so much time these days as he spends so much time with Alex at the mills. I am so proud of them both, 239
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and of the way that Damien has not let his handicap stop him from achieving what he wants to. My father died in 1853 and we have brought Mother to live with us. Another notable death was that of Crosbie, who was killed in a riding accident early in 1856. My mind had never really been at peace while he was alive. I always imagined he might turn up one day and spoil everything we have here. He never did make any attempt to contact us again. With him truly gone I feel that I can relax fully at last. Some days we still cannot believe how fortunate we are and how far we have come. **** September 1856 Damien Italy is quite beautiful. Dan and I have spent many an interesting hour sitting in the shade, discussing his ideas for improvements to the mills. He is quite the engineer now and has great plans for us. I'm glad that they will be left in good hands. He has also developed quite a passion for Bella, who has blossomed into a stunningly beautiful young lady. She has no shortage of admirers, of course, and poor Dan is so tongue-tied around her that if he does not act soon he will miss his chance. He asked my advice on the matter and I said as much, but every time he goes near her all he talks about is the weather or his other favourite topic, steam engines.
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Lizzie wanted to stay behind and had to be forced to accompany us. I know the reason, and that is why I insisted that she come. I will never stop my children from doing anything that makes them happy, but I'll just say that without a parental eye to keep a check on things, I think the temptation between her and Mr. Johnson might have proved too great. She has spent a great deal of the time sulking and is trying to persuade us to take her climbing in the Alps while we are here. Tom still teases Alice mercilessly. It is my opinion that he is secretly besotted with her and that is why he cannot leave her alone. She is still a dainty little thing; very pretty with masses of blond curls and, at fifteen, too young, in my opinion, to receive the attention of young men. However, Tom is relieving me of my fatherly duty in this respect by standing and glowering at any young man who so much as looks at her. It is very amusing to watch as she rounds on him and tells him that she will never have a beau with him around. He invariable storms off, swearing, and tells her that they are welcome to her. We have had a very relaxing time here, and even Flora, who insisted that she was becoming too old for all this travelling, has managed to enjoy herself. The more love you receive, the more you have in store to give back. My Lissa is still as beautiful as the day I first saw her, and I still want her as much. I used to think that people of my age wouldn't be interested in that sort of thing, but we still find a great deal of pleasure in each other. I don't think we'll ever be too old for it. I think the time has come for us to rebuild our ties with the old Lucius Mansion. The tenants have recently given 241
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notice and, with Crosbie gone, there is no reason why we cannot return for visits. I wasn't always happy there, but I am tied to it by birth and sometimes it just seems to call me back. I wonder if it is something to do with becoming older? The need to reconnect and build some good memories there? I am determined that we shall. Alice Tom is being his usual beastly self. If he does not like me, as he is so fond of telling me, then why does he follow me around so? I have tried so hard to be a part of this family and know that they all love me very much, but he seems intent on spoiling things for me all the time. Sometimes he just stares at me and then walks away when I ask him what is wrong. I have tried to be friends with him but as he grows older he gets worse. I should like to be able to tell him exactly what I think of him. I cannot do that, as I have always been aware of my place here and do not want to do anything to make them think that I am not truly grateful for all they have done for me. I shall just have to put up with it, I suppose, and instead count my many blessings. Bella I despair that Dan will ever notice me and I cannot think what else to do. I have spent the whole of this holiday parading myself in front of him, trying to make conversation with him, all to no avail. All he ever talks about is the weather and engineering. Perhaps he doesn't like me after all. I think desperate measures are called for. Lizzie
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A letter came this morning from Nicholas, asking me to marry, him. I am to keep it a secret until we return, as we want to tell the family together. No doubt everyone will say I am too young. Father still thinks that I am an innocent, and has not realised that I have been sharing Nicholas's bed for the past three months. This was at my insistence,since Nicholas is well aware that he could lose his job if we were caught. I think a modern girl should try these things out before marriage - otherwise, how will we know if we are compatible? We have been very careful so that I do not fall with child, but it has been difficult and frustrating. Once you have done this thing with someone you love, you just want to do it all the time. **** October 1856 Dan Bella quite unexpectedly kissed me this morning and I have yet to recover from the shock. I was telling her about an idea for a new twin-beam steam engine and I thought she seemed quite interested in what I had to say, when all of a sudden she grabbed my face between her hands and kissed me quite soundly on the lips. Before I had time to react, she was gone. I think the next move is up to me and I have no idea how to proceed from here. 1857 Alicia Two weddings this year. Dan and Bella were married in September and live with us here at Forest Park. Lizzie 243
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married Mr. Johnson just before Christmas. In her usual independent way she has insisted they live at the schoolmaster’s cottage even though it is very small. I do not think they will be with us for long as they have been talking about going to Africa to found a school. I have talked with Damien on this matter and he agrees with me that, if they go, we will help them as much as possible. Much as I love my children around me, I admire their spirit of independence and would never want to do anything to stop them. With Crosbie gone, we have been spending some time at the mansion. Damien seems to want to be there more these days, and I am always happy to be where he is. I think he wants to erase those early memories and replace them with good ones, and we will. **** November 1858 Alex Dan and Bella have a baby boy. I'm strangely proud that they called him after me, as I never thought I'd care about such things. So we have another family member with the Lucius looks, as he is dark-haired and darkeyed. Mother never lets him alone and it seems in some way she is trying to reclaim something that she squandered in her youth. Flora God has been very merciful to me. When I should be punished for the way I treated Alex as a baby he has chosen to give me a second chance. Young Alexander is so much like he was and I only hope that I can in some 244
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way make it up to Alex by giving his grandchild the love that I didn't give him. It didn't strike me this hard when Tom was born, and I wonder why I feel like this now. I suspect that as you get older and near to your death then you must necessarily begin to put your life in order. Alex has long forgiven me, but I will never forgive myself for the way I treated him. **** June 1860 Dana Flora passed away quietly in her sleep this morning. She had been failing in health all winter and seems to have made it this far through sheer determination of will. We are at the mansion for a holiday and she so wanted to come with us, even though I thought she wasn't strong enough to make the journey. I offered to stay at Forest Park with her, but she would have none of it. I found her seemingly asleep in one of the garden chairs in the orchard, a favourite spot of hers, and it took me a while to realise that she'd left us. I have rarely seen Alex cry in the whole of the time that I have known him, but he was quite distraught over it, as were the children. All I could do was hold him and tell him that I loved him dearly. She is buried in the family graveyard here. **** August 1860 Damien Flora is much mourned and very greatly missed. May she rest in peace. 245
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I thought it was about time I took my seat in the House of Lords and I believe that my maiden speech was one of the shortest in the history of the House. Still, I am proud to have done it, at last. In late August we said goodbye to Nicholas and Lizzie as they set off for their great adventure to Africa. They have promised not to stay away forever, but say they want to give the world something back in return for the good fortune they have had. The other big drama this year was, not unsurprisingly, caused by Tom and Alice. I do not know exactly what happened. Tom mysteriously disappeared at the beginning of September, and by the time we'd tracked him down we found that he was in the Army, and already on a ship bound for India. Alice disappeared two days after him. We found her at the railway station in Manchester, clutching a train ticket to London. She was persuaded to come home but seems to be wasting away in front of our eyes. She neither eats nor sleeps, it would seem, and I am at a loss as to how to comfort her. I only hope that I can use my position to good effect and find out where Tom is, although, as he signed on as an ordinary recruit, I fear there is little that I can do. Alex The news from India is not good. The Times newspaper had been reporting more unrest and I am starting to fear that I will never see my foolhardy son again. We are all so worried about him. Alice 246
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It's all my fault. Tom unexpectedly told me that he loved me and then he kissed me without asking permission. I was so incensed at his presumption I told him that I hated him and could never love him. I do not know what possessed me to say such a stupid thing, because, since he has been gone, it is as if a part of me has gone with him. I can neither eat nor sleep for worry of him. How is he going to survive without us to stop him from doing stupid things? When I read the letter that he left me it struck me all at once that I love him more than my own life. Now he will die a horrible death because of me, and I will never see him again. If only he'd done things properly for once, this would never have happened. If he is killed I don't know what I will do. **** Tom's journal - Northern Frontier, India 1861 Everything I write here, I dedicate to Alice. Dear Alice, I start another letter that you will probably never see. It is very cold here as they have sent us into the mountains to guard the border crossings. I cannot help but wonder what we are doing in this strange country that is not our own. Soldiers are dying here on a daily basis just so that there can be more of the Great British Empire. I wish more than ever to be home and see your face once more. Did you ever forgive me for what I did? I must say that it was the best moment of my life. If I find anyone travelling back to England I will ask them to take this journal with them so that you can see that I did 247
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truly love you, even if I didn't deserve your love in return. You may say that I had a strange way of showing it, but that is just me. I'm not very good at affairs of the heart, as you know by my bungled attempt to show my feelings to you. Please forgive me for all the teasing and torment I put you through. I think I was just in awe of you, and it scared me. What a fool I am. If you do get this, then give my love to Mother and Father and tell them that I am sorry for any pain I have caused them. I didn't mean to join the Army. I was so drunk that night that I had no idea what I was doing, then it was too late and I was too ashamed to come home. We could be attacked at any time and I may not live through this. I only pray that this will somehow get to you. Forever yours, Tom. Dana In late October Tom was mentioned in despatches in the Times newspaper. The article spoke of great heroism and also of great losses. We do not know at this time whether he is alive or dead. At the end of March 1862, after a terrible wait, Alice received Tom's journal, in which someone had written that he had been badly wounded and was being shipped home via South Africa and given an honourable discharge. This was all dependent on whether he lived or not, as his injuries were very severe. They did not describe exactly the nature of them.
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I still do not know whether this is good news or bad. Alex and Damien have gone to London to see what they can find out. Alice It is right that I should be punished like this. Every day I read Tom's journal so that I can see just what I condemned him to with my harsh words. I refuse to believe that he is dead, however. Surely God will send him back to us and give me a chance to put this right? I think that I have always been in love with him, only I have never known it until now. Alex The news is very confusing. It now seems that there is a good chance Tom was sent to South Africa. I am preparing to leave immediately to search for him and fetch him home. It will be a long journey and I will hate being away from Dana for so long, but if Tom is alive then he will be in need of me. Alice has insisted that she accompany me. I do not think it a good idea, but it seems that she is like all the other females in this family, even though she is not a blood relation. She appeared on the doorstep this morning with a suitcase of clothes asking when we would be leaving. I have consulted with Damien and Lissa and they have agreed that she may come with me. We will overnight in Manchester and be on our way south by tomorrow. Tom - military hospital, South Africa. A nurse is writing this for me.
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Little by little my sight is improving and I can now make out shapes and colours, although there is little substance to them and everything is still somewhat of a blur. I was quite terrified that I will be permanently blind. There is something so lonely about being in the dark like this. It makes you feel so cut off from the world. So unloved. I often wonder if Alice ever got my journal and what she thought of my mad ramblings. I wonder, too, if by now she may be married to someone else. I have begged them to send me home but they say my injuries are, as yet, too bad for me to be moved. Being stuck in bed like this and having to depend on others for everything is pure torture for me. Were it not for the thought of my family waiting for me at home, I would have ended it myself long ago. **** November 1862 Alicia It was eight months before they came home. They found Tom in a military hospital in a very bad way. It seems that he had been suffering from recurring infections due to a bullet lodged near his heart. None of the doctors seemed inclined to operate in case the operation itself killed him and so they had left it, as they put it, up to God. Ironically, Alex found an Indian doctor willing to undertake the operation, on the payment of a large sum of money. It was a very difficult decision for Alex to have to make. Tom agreed that he was willing to take the risk and so it went ahead. Before the operation he and Alice were married, which does not surprise me in the slightest. 250
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She is, after all, carrying on a great family tradition of marrying for love. I'm not surprised that Tom survived the operation. With Alice by his side I think that he would survive anything. Dana The sight of the carriage rounding the bend, and bringing my beloved family home to me once more is one which I shall never forget. Poor Tom is so changed. We hope that with good nursing and much love he will be back to something of his own self with time. His sight may never be back to normal, but I think that a pair of spectacles will make him look very dashing. He is very thin, poor boy. Looking at him, I can see that, in a roundabout way, he has found happiness at last. He has lost the restless edge he has carried all his life, and has the look of one who has truly come home. I did not realise I could miss someone the way that I missed Alex. I am so used to him always being there, like a solid rock at my back, and when he is gone the world is such a strange place. I have told him that he is never to leave me alone again. **** 1866 Alicia Another Christmas and another year together. Lizzie and Nicholas have returned from Africa with their two children and we are all at the mansion in Devon for the festivities this year since Damien particularly wanted to be here. Even though the place is much changed with so much noise and laughter, sometimes, at night when it is 251
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finally quiet, I can hear the echoes of the old days. A place like this, that has seen so much, cannot help but resonate with the memories of everything that has happened here. I love Damien more with each passing day, yet he will never know how much. He says that I am the strong one and he could never live without me, but I have found such a haven in him. I do not think that he will ever realise how brave and strong he is, and how much we all need him. To love and be loved in return is such a simple need, yet sometimes so hard to come by. Those who find true love should count themselves fortunate, for it is the greatest gift of them all. I think I will go and find him and tell him just how much I do love him. And perhaps show him as well. He still likes it when I surprise him in that way. 1866 - The Lucius Mansion, Devon. From the journal of Damien Lucius The family is together once more. The children and grandchildren have gathered here with us at the Lucius Mansion, and the house is full of noise and laughter. This year there will be fifteen of us around the table - such a contrast to the grim silence and loneliness of my early days here. I have taken this opportunity to sit quietly, in my old bedroom, on this Christmas Eve and count the considerable blessings that my life has shown me. Aunt Joan, who now lives in Italy with her husband Constantine, once told Lissa that she deserved her 252
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happiness because she had worked so hard for it. She was right. We all did. Alex, with his years of torment at the hands of Evan. I, in my terrible lonely prison of darkness. And Lissa, with the prospect of marriage to an evil man like Crosbie. Alex will have to carry his father's murder, and the fear of eternal damnation, for the rest of his life. He more than deserves the comfort his family gives him. I would have lived a million lifetimes in the dark if only I had Lissa by my side. And Lissa did, and has always done, what is required to keep those she loves safe. I prayed that God would take pity on us and grant us some happiness, and I have not been disappointed. I count each and every day a blessing. We have been spending more time at the mansion lately. I promised Lissa that one day we would come back and I feel that perhaps the time has come to lay the ghosts of this old house to rest. Despite the trauma of my early life, I am bound to this place and I should like to be buried, one day, in the grounds with all my ancestors. While I was writing this, Lissa found me and crept onto my lap for a cuddle and a kiss. We locked the door and made love there and then. Afterwards, we laughed at something Flora told her a long time ago. She said that Lissa would remember that conversation when she was older, and she did.
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We stood and looked at the moon shining on the snowcovered lawns, and time, as it always seemed to do when we were that close, appeared to play tricks on us. I imagined us back on the cliff road the first time we met. I stood on the brink of something that night and all I had to do was reach out and take it. I'm so glad I found the courage to do so. Then we were on the back steps as I told Lissa about my sad little bag of sixpences. Those I have kept to this day. The night we went fishing came into such sharp focus that I could see us as clearly as if it had been only yesterday, and I remembered that wonderful feeling of breaking free at last. Of finding myself. And, of course, the night we first made love. How could I ever forget that? They are all here, the memories of those early days with my Lissa, and those since. I have managed to fill nine journals, documenting a life that has had, as with most people, its share of highs and lows. We have known the joys of bringing new life into the world, and the sadness of saying goodbye to those dearly loved. A cure still hasn't been found for my disease, and I hold little hope that it will be in my lifetime. I have tried to not let it be too much of a handicap, but I should have liked to have been able to walk in the sunlight with Lissa. I think she would have too, although she has never spoken of it. Lissa never forgot Crosbie, and worried constantly that he would come for revenge. He never did. He was killed in an accident some ten years ago, and the only place he can reach us now is in our memories and dreams. 254
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I once told myself to find Lissa, hold on to her and never let her go, and that is what I have done. She has been my light and my anchor. I try not to dwell on the unhappy memories, although they have taught us all lessons we need to know. That life is precious, and love, once found, is worth hanging on to, and fighting for to your last breath. It could have all ended so differently. I once walked towards the bright light that I truly believed would be my eternal rest, but I did have a job to do after all. I came back to rescue Lissa, and in doing so, she rescued me. I'm glad I wrote it all down. I want people to read it and know how much we loved each other. Lissa always said that my first journal wouldn't burn because it was destined to be found by two special people who would understand what we'd found in each other. It always made me smile. Every couple in love imagines theirs to be the truest and the best, and we were no exception. I know that many have loved before us just as well as we have. And so they will in the future. I have hidden my first journal and left it to chance. Perhaps it will have a message for someone. As I grow older I believe more and more that love never fades. People may pass on into memory, and into history, but the love they make between them lingers for all time. Perhaps that's what ghosts are? Stories, both good and bad, which need to be told, and want to be heard. Emotions so strong that they can be felt long after the people who made them have gone. I'm just an old romantic fool at heart. I always have been, and always will be. One lifetime with Lissa will never be enough. I sometimes wonder if we have known 255
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each other in another life, for there are times when the path feels so familiar, and the way is so clear that we must have walked it before. A fanciful notion, yes, but if it is true, then we will know each other again. A dozen lifetimes will not be enough to tell Lissa how much I love her. If it is at all possible, I will find her again. Every year, on Christmas Eve, I light a candle for each year we have spent together. Tonight there will be thirty-one. I pray that there will be many more. The End Thank you for reading – AM. In The Dark With You Book 1 is available in the free reads folders at both Alinar Yahoo forums. More free reads from Alexandra Marell – available in the Alinar Yahoo Forums. Waiting For Eternity Saving Susie The Heart Wants Alexandra has the following books for sale at Alinar Publishing – Setting Him Free As Quality Control Manager for Exotic Resorts Inc., Danielle Radcliffe’s life is one long round of sun, sea and sand. Unfortunately, it also involves airplanes – and Danielle hates flying with a passion. When her worst fears are realised, and her plane crashes in a tropical rainforest, there are only two survivors. Danielle and the enigmatic man in black who’d held her hand as the plane went down. A man who’d been sitting handcuffed between two armed guards. 256
In The Dark With You, Book 2 – Alexandra Marell Taylor Bradford is a broken man. Tired of running, he’s glad that the end is near. That is until he catches Danielle’s eye on the plane. A moment of instant connection awakens feelings he thought long dead. When the plane goes down, he reaches for her hand. The sole survivors of the crash, Taylor and Danielle find themselves forming a deepening bond which boils over into a night of passion. Danielle knows she needs to let him go before help arrives, even though there’s a chance that she might never see him again. But when the time comes, will she be able to? And, more importantly, will Taylor keep his promise to come back and find her one day? Something Worth Fighting For When an innocent man is released from prison he needs to rebuild his life. For Daniel Denham, that's easier said than done. Until he meets artist Callie Lester in her house by the sea. Callie Lester is horrified when her mother, who was Daniel’s lawyer, announces that he’s coming to stay. He's recently been released from prison for a crime he didn't commit and is looking for work. Callie needs a website to advertise her growing business as a portrait artist and Daniel is good at what he does. But he's a man with problems. Does she really want him around when things are so good? Fate seems to have decreed that she be the one to rescue him. Will she be up to the task? The moment Daniel walks into the house by the sea he knows that this is a place where he can begin to get his life back together. A place where he can heal. But things are never that simple. Rumours to some people are truth and facing the outside world and all its judgements is the hardest thing of all. Daniel comes out of prison a changed man, unsure of who he is and haunted by the things he had to do to survive it. He's surprised to find that he's not the only one who has ghosts from the past that need laying to rest. Callie needs him as much as he needs her and together they discover that love really the best healer of them all. http://alinarpublishing.com Alexandra’s website – http://www.alexandramarell.com/
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