LITMIR.BIZ

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that was in the past. She had given him her heart, her devotion and her love—in short, she had given him what was the sum and substance of Lucy Lane. She had loved no man before him and no man since and he had betrayed her with her closest friend, Katherine Tindall.

      Looking back over the days before she had ended it, she realised it had been in their faces, in their eyes and the way their bodies met, familiar with one another. Katherine, a widow whose military husband had been killed in India, had acted strangely. In her naïvety Lucy had asked her if all was well with her. She recalled Katherine’s evasive disinclination to tell her why she was acting secretive, the way she had laughed nervously and accused her of imagining things—and all the while...

      And Nathan! He, too, had seemed withdrawn, secretive, his thoughts elsewhere. She had asked him what was wrong—with him, with her, with them. She didn’t know. She couldn’t tell. He had told her nothing was amiss, that it was in her imagination. His face, though, had belied his words. Normally they had no secrets from one another and she had known he was hiding something from her.

      And then there had been Mrs West, an older woman, a widow, an actress herself, who had been among their circle of friends. She had taken Lucy aside and told her in low, conspiratorial tones of the rumour that was being whispered about town of Katherine’s closeness to Nathan, that they were often seen together having a tête-à-tête. You’re an intelligent girl, she had said. Surely you must have noticed. Lucy hadn’t and she wildly shook her head to deny it, telling Mrs West with bitterness and pain that she didn’t believe it and hating her for what she had said, that they were nothing but malicious lies. But could this be what was behind their odd behaviour, the changes she had noted in both Katherine and Nathan?

      A shiver passed through Lucy as she remembered the moment she had seen for herself and could no longer ignore the horrible truth. The scene she had witnessed just days before their wedding had become frozen in her memory. Early one morning she had gone to call on Katherine, who was to have been her matron of honour, to discuss some minor details concerning the day itself.

      About to get out of her carriage, she had paused on seeing the door open, shrinking against the squabs when she saw Nathan come out of the house accompanied by Katherine. After embracing her and placing what had looked to her like a lover’s kiss on her cheek, he had walked away. That was when something inside her, no more than a tiny crack, began to form at the foundations of her belief that she and Nathan would be together always.

      Every nerve in her body had stiffened against the onslaught of her bitter anger and the pain of betrayal. She had wanted to hurt him badly, make them both pay. She wept in the dark of the night with the pain until she thought she would die of it. Her spirit was battered and desolate, but when she rose from her bed and put pen to paper, telling Nathan that she had changed her mind, that it would be folly for them to wed, that she had been mistaken in her feelings for him and that he was not the man she wanted for her husband, she was clear-eyed and icy calm.

      When he had called on her she adamantly refused to see him and did not leave the house. Nor did she discuss the matter with anyone, not even her aunt Dora. After two weeks his visits ceased and she later learned that he had been posted to France. Feeling a desperate need to get out of London and to leave the memories and heartache behind, she had joined a travelling theatre company.

      Now, to confuse her totally, he had swept back into her life, just as handsome, just as intriguing, and with him he had brought an offer of money as well as adventure. He knew too well how difficult it would be for her to refuse such an alluring combination, but she must.

      Refusing to let him intimidate her, angrily she tore up the note and threw it into the fire.

      * * *

      Another note was delivered the next day, and when she failed to respond he turned up at the house.

      ‘I’ve given you my decision,’ she told him irately when Polly showed him into the parlour, where she was poring over the housekeeping books, wishing there was more money in the pot to pay the outstanding bills and to spend on a few luxuries. ‘I want no part of it. Now, please don’t pressure me anymore. There have been times in the last four years when I have wondered if I did right in breaking off our engagement. Now I am very glad I did. I was right to do so, for now I see you for what you are. You are a monster. You keep nibbling away at my reserves like a mouse. You will bide your time until the moment is ripe—until I have nowhere else to turn—and then you will pounce.’

      Keeping a firm check on his expression, Nathan stepped closer with a respectful glance. ‘I apologise if I expressed myself badly the other day. Do you need more time to think about it?’ Her angry reaction to his proposal had come as no surprise. He was aware of her stubborn independence and he would have to soothe her ire as much as possible. It was up to him to convince her to work for him.

      ‘No. I’ve given you my decision. There’s too much at stake. I am happy as I am. I enjoy my work, work that is comfortable and familiar to me, work in which I take great pride. I will not leave all this and enter a very different world. I also have my aunt to take care of. Should anything happen to me, who would look after her? She isn’t strong. Who would pay her bills?’

      ‘That would be taken care of.’

      She looked at him incredulously. ‘By whom? You?’

      ‘Yes.’

      With an exasperated sigh she looked at him. ‘Are you simply unable to comprehend the word no?’

      ‘I do have a difficulty with that particular word,’ he conceded, smiling crookedly.

      ‘I’m not surprised,’ she answered. ‘You probably do not hear it very often.’

      ‘Rarely,’ he agreed. ‘I am arrogant, I dare say,’ he went on, ‘and everything else of which you accused me of being. I admit it freely. However, I ask that you overlook my flaws and agree to go with me to Portugal.’

      Lucy held her breath. It was a physical effort not to close the gap between them, to reach out for this man whose body had once been as familiar to her as her own. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her nails digging into the palms of her hands as she fought against an attraction so strong it almost overwhelmed her.

      When she failed to answer he took a step towards her, holding out his hand as if in silent appeal. ‘Lucy—’

      She stepped back, away from him. ‘When it comes to persistence you have it in abundance. But my answer is still no. Now, please go. Nothing can be gained from this.’ He flinched. Her lips tightened. She must not show weakness now.

      She kept her gaze fixed on something beyond him. Her body was rigid, her control as brittle as glass. If he reached out and touched her now those fragile defences would shatter. She prayed that he did not realise the power he still held over her. The memory of his kiss was enough to shatter her defences into a thousand pieces.

      Nathan stared at her, his eyes hard and angry. After what seemed like an age he seemed to come to a decision. He went to the door where he turned and looked back at her. ‘I’m not giving up, Lucy. One way or another I will persuade you. Believe me, this is important. You have no idea how important. Think about it.’ He left quietly.

      * * *

      A bitter taste of disappointment and anger filled Nathan’s mouth as he walked away from Lucy’s house. He was a worried man. It would soon be time for him to leave for Portugal.

      When Lucy had ended their courtship he had thought never to see her again. She’d finished it and he still didn’t know why, but he’d had time to wonder. It wasn’t until the eve of his departure for France, when he’d run into Katherine and she told him that Lucy wouldn’t see her either, that his mind had begun to backtrack.

      He wondered if Lucy had seen something she ought not to see. Might she have stumbled across some stray detail in his closeness at that time to Katherine and formed her own conclusions? But that was impossible. He knew he had grown very comfortable with Katherine, which his friend Lord James Newbold—the second son of the Duke of Londesborough—who was enamoured

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