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Authors: Sandra Wilson

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He looked at her for a moment. ‘Well, all I can say is that you’ve placed far more faith in him than I ever would.’

‘No one’s asking you to.’

A faint smile touched his lips. ‘That’s very true,’ he murmured.

She held his gaze for a moment and then sipped her wine.

Lewis watched her. ‘I understand Mrs Mountain of the Saracen’s Head is
to build a new Swan for you.’

She put down her glass. ‘I suppose you’re about to tell me she’s incapable of building a brewer’s dray, let alone a race coach.’

‘On the contrary, I was about to remark that you couldn’t have chosen better.’

‘You mean, I’ve actually managed to do something right?’

‘Right? I suppose so, if anything can be right in this whole silly business.’

‘Ah, that’s more like you, Lewis – build me up with a compliment and then dash me down with a sly backhander.’

‘I had no idea you saw me in such a brutish light.’

‘I see you in a great many disagreeable lights, sir.’

‘All of them quite wrong.’

‘So you keep insisting.’

‘Can’t you put away your imagined grievances for once, Jane?’

‘No, because they aren’t imagined.’

‘I’m flattered that it still matters so much to you.’

‘You delude yourself, sir, if you imagine that I care two figs about you anymore. You can bed Alicia morning, noon, and night, every day of the week for all that it matters to me.’

He feigned amazement. ‘Good God, what do you take me for? Morning, noon,
and
night seven days a week? Virile I may be, but not
that
virile!’

She flushed. ‘I haven’t given your virility much of a thought recently, Lewis,’ she replied, attempting to end the conversation with a crushing retort.

There was a lazy mockery in his gray eyes. ‘No?’ he inquired softly.

‘No.’

‘Well, that being the case, you will no doubt feel perfectly safe when we take a romantic stroll along the beach after dining.’

‘I don’t wish to stroll anywhere with you.’

‘Come now, admit that you’d
adore
a little toddle along the sand.’

‘Maybe I would, but you don’t figure very prominently on my list of
suitable
partners.’

‘Who would then? Charles Moncarm?’

‘He’s much more agreeable than you are.’

‘Does this herald a change of heart? Are you reconsidering his proposal?’

‘If I am, it’s none of your business.’

‘No, it isn’t,’ he agreed, ‘but the truth is that I was merely sympathizing.’

‘With me?’

‘Good heavens, no. With Charles.’

‘If I don’t ask why, you’ll no doubt tell me anyway.’

‘Naturally. I was thinking that he’ll be in a very sorry position – he’ll have a wife he adores, but every time he kisses her she’ll be thinking of someone else.’

There was silence. She looked at him. ‘Meaning, I suppose,’ she said in a voice which quivered with anger, ‘that
you’d
be that someone else?’

‘Yes.’

‘What effrontery,’ she breathed furiously, tossing her napkin onto the table and rising to her feet. ‘How
dare
you presume to speak to me like this!’

‘Effrontery? My dear Jane, I rather thought it was honesty.’

‘I’ve eaten enough, sir. You may finish alone.’ She gathered her skirts and hurried out. She heard his chair scrape as he followed her. He caught up with her at the foot of the staircase, turning her sharply back to face him. ‘Aren’t you forgetting our stroll on the beach?’ he asked coolly.

‘I’d as soon walk with the devil himself!’

Her slightly raised voice attracted the attention of two gentlemen waiting to be attended to by the landlord. Lewis glanced at them and then back at Jane. ‘I’m quite prepared to make a scene, if that’s the way you wish it, but it would be much more agreeable if you simply gave in like a good girl and came along with me.’

‘I would prefer not to,’ she replied stiffly.

‘But I’m insisting,’ he said, taking her cold hand and drawing it through his arm. ‘There, that wasn’t too difficult, was it?’

She said nothing more, but unwillingly allowed him to usher her out into the dark warmth of the summer night, where stars glittered like diamonds against the deep indigo of the sky.

A man selling Sussex gingerbread had a stall by some steps leading down to the beach. He would usually have gone home by this time, but the night was so fine that a number of people were still out, and it was therefore worth his while to stay just a little longer.

Not a word had passed between Lewis and Jane since they’d left the White Lion, indeed her manner was so stiff and angry that it didn’t
encourage
conversation of any kind. It wasn’t only her anger with him which made her so quiet, it was her unease at being out without the protection of a veil. There were so many people about, and at any moment they might come face to face with someone they knew.

She was so intent upon inspecting each approaching figure, that she hardly glanced at the gingerbread stall, but Lewis halted very deliberately by it, looking closely at the array of sticky shapes displayed so carefully on a clean white cloth. Gingerbread was a local delicacy and was made in a
variety
of traditional patterns, from cats, grandfather clocks, and birds, to the royal arms and figures on horseback, the Duke of Wellington being a
particular
favorite.

Lewis picked up one of the latter, glancing at Jane with feigned
hesitation
. ‘The Iron Duke, eh?’ he murmured. ‘Well, perhaps under the
circumstances
that’s not entirely appropriate. Maybe this is more fitting.’ He replaced the gingerbread and picked up another piece, this time a bird, a swan. He gave the man a coin and then presented the gingerbread to Jane. ‘You rushed off from your dinner without a dessert, my lady, so please accept this instead.’

Giving him a dark look, she reluctantly accepted the offered piece.

He raised an eyebrow. ‘Do you always do things with such bad grace?’

‘Only when they’re forced upon me,’ she replied, glancing toward a small boy who had been watching everything with longing eyes. She smiled at him and held out the gingerbread. ‘Here, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it far more than I would.’

The boy came hesitantly forward, his eyes warily on Lewis. Then he almost snatched the gingerbread and ran away down the steps and across the beach, scattering the shingle with his bare feet.

Wiping her sticky fingers on her handkerchief, Jane then proceeded down the steps as well, lifting her muslin skirts above her ankles as she picked her way between the row of bathing huts, which stood to silent attention gazing out to sea. Further along the beach there were fishing boats, drawn safely above high water level, their rigging absolutely still in the quiet air. The smell of salt was very strong and fresh even though the lack of breeze meant that the waves only whispered against the shore, lapping almost timidly as if anxious not to disturb the peace of Brighton. The town glittered with lights, and from time to time Jane caught drifts of music from the Castle inn on the Steyne, but apart from that the night was quiet.

Still anxious to avoid encountering someone she knew, she walked away from the lights, making her way toward a deserted part of the beach. She was very aware of Lewis as he caught her up at last and firmly took her hand, drawing it through his arm. They were on sand now, hard, smooth sand only recently deserted by the tide.

He halted at last. ‘I think we’ve walked far enough, don’t you?’

‘I didn’t want to walk in the first place,’ she reminded him.

‘Can’t we set aside our personal differences for a moment? I want to talk about your venture into coaching.’

‘What is there to talk about? You hoped that by making me travel on the Nonpareil you’d change my mind. It hasn’t worked.’

‘Please reconsider.’

She looked at him in surprise. ‘Was that actually a polite request?’

‘It was an earnest one. What you intend to do is dangerous and
ill-advised
, and will cause a great deal of unwelcome and unnecessary talk.’

‘I endured unwelcome talk before, Lewis, when you chose to make a fool of me with Alicia. I survived that; no doubt I’ll survive this as well.’

This exasperated him. ‘Don’t be so damned tedious, Jane. This is far too
important. Can’t you see that the only way to achieve anything worthwhile is to actually win the race? And to be perfectly honest with you, I don’t think the Swan stands a cat in hell’s chance.’

She met his gaze. ‘I’m going to win,’ she said quietly.

‘You haven’t even got suitable cattle,’ he replied.

‘I’ll find them.’

‘Thirty bang-up horses in so short a time?’

‘Yes.’ But this was said with more bravado than real conviction. The horses were the real problem, and she was no nearer solving it now than she had been at the outset. Her mind was a blank, for if she approached any of her aristocratic friends, then the story would soon filter back to Henry.

‘So, you’ll find them and you’ll win the race.’ He gave a satirical laugh. ‘Well, I admire your spirit, Jane, but
spirit
isn’t going to slip that race into your pocket. Didn’t the journey today teach you anything?’

‘Yes, it taught me that men who resort to such foul and odious methods should not be allowed to get away scot free. They think they’ve got it all sewn up, don’t they? Between them, they’ve frightened all the other coaches out of the race, so that it’s just a battle of giants. Well, they
haven’t
got it all to themselves, as I’m going to prove. What I witnessed today was absolutely appalling, and although I know that Chapman was behind most of it, I cannot be absolutely certain that Henry didn’t arrange that incident with the ox-wagon. If he did, I shall never forgive him for stooping to such
despicable
depths; if he didn’t, I shall be very glad, but I still will not forgive him for behaving as he has done toward Blanche. He’s been very shabby, Lewis, and he has to realize what’s he’s become. I must turn the tables on him somehow; it’s the only way to make any impression. He’ll lose her if he doesn’t change, and without Blanche, he’ll be desperately unhappy. He’s taking her for granted, and he can’t afford to do that, not with the Duke of Dursley paying her such clever attention. She’s unhappy and vulnerable. I love my brother, and I don’t want to see him heartbroken. His coaches aren’t worth it. He has to grow up.’ She paused to draw a deep breath, surprised at herself for such a long outburst.

He looked at her for a long moment. ‘So, your plan goes ahead?’

‘Yes. Are you going to split on me?’

‘I should do, for your own sake.’

‘Yes, but will you?’

For a long moment he didn’t reply; then he ran his fingers through his hair, giving a slightly incredulous laugh. ‘No, I won’t split on you.’

It was the answer she wanted, but it still took her slightly aback. ‘You – you won’t?’

He shook his head. ‘No, Jane, your secret’s safe with me,’ he said softly. ‘In fact, I’ll even go so far as to offer you my assistance.’

She stared at him. ‘Assistance? What do you mean?’

‘You’ll be astonished to learn that your eloquent little speech has made an
ally of me, Jane. I’ll help you all I can to win the race. Your motives are admirable and I ask you to forgive me for ever having treated them lightly.’

She was still staring. ‘I must indeed have been eloquent.’

‘You always were, when something really mattered to you. Very well, I shall grant you your wish, I’ll horse the coach for you. I’ll provide the
bang-up
cattle – something slap, as the coaching parlance goes.’

She was absolutely nonplussed, taken completely off-guard by his dramatic turnabout; indeed, her astonishment was so great that she
couldn’t
believe he meant it. ‘Lewis, if this is your notion of a jest….’

‘No jest, Jane. I mean it. Maywood’s stables are at the Swan’s disposal. Mind you, this is not to say that I approve of your intention to be on the coach on the day, for I most certainly do not and I’ll do all I can to dissuade you between now and Midsummer Day. Sitting on that box in front of the whole of society will do your reputation no good at all, as even you must eventually see. Surely it’s enough that Henry should know you’re behind it? Does he really have to
see
you as well?’

‘Yes.’

‘You’re a stubborn woman, Jane Derwent.’

She searched his face in the darkness. ‘You – you do mean it about the horses, don’t you?’

‘Don’t you trust my word?’

She lowered her eyes then. ‘Since you are a gentleman, sir, then I must accept that your word is your bond.’

‘It is indeed, as it was six months ago when I told you that I was innocent of deceiving you with another.’

She drew back slightly. ‘Please don’t say any more, Lewis.’

‘But I must. If you can accept my word where the horses are concerned, why can’t you accept it about what happened six months ago?’

‘I’d rather not discuss it,’ she said stiffly.

‘Well, I’m afraid that I intend to discuss it, since there will not be many occasions when I have you alone. I didn’t do anything wrong six months ago, Jane. I neither betrayed you nor cast a roving eye in anyone else’s
direction
.’

The bitter anger and resentment welled up uncontrollably in-side her then, and she could no longer stay silent. ‘Stop it, Lewis! Don’t say anything more, because I cannot bear your lies!’

He caught her wrist, his fingers like a vice and his gray eyes like flint in the darkness. ‘I’m not lying,’ he breathed.

‘Yes you are!’ she cried, trying to wrench herself free. ‘Alicia herself came to tell me all about your unfaithfulness!’

He was very still, not releasing her as he looked intently into her angry eyes. ‘She came to see you? When?’

‘The day before I gave you back your ring.’

Slowly, he released her. ‘And what did she say?’

‘That all the rumors were true and she was your mistress, and that you only proposed to me in order to please your father on his death bed.’

He continued to look at her for a moment, then gave a brief, cold laugh. ‘And you
actually
believed her?’

‘Yes.’

‘Didn’t it occur to you that she had a vested interest in lying about it? Dammit, she
wanted
to be my mistress!’

‘If she was lying, sir, why have you both since gone out of your way to prove the very opposite? She is your mistress now, isn’t she?’

‘What she is now and what she was then are two entirely different things.’

‘I’m afraid that I find that impossible to believe.’

‘Why?’

‘Lewis….’ she began.

‘No, dammit, I want an answer. Why is it impossible to believe?’

She didn’t reply.

He put his fingers to her chin, forcing her to look at him. ‘What a fool you are, Jane Derwent – a prideful creature without the wit to see beyond the end of your pretty little nose. You’ve been gulled, and not by me. As for Alicia gracing my bed, well to be perfectly honest with you, I failed to see why your childish outburst should force the life of a monk on me!’

‘How dare you!’ She was so angry that she raised her hand to strike him, but he caught her wrist.

‘I’m not in the mood to tolerate more of your ridiculous pride, Jane, so don’t even attempt to demonstrate your endless capacity for throwing tantrums!’

‘Tantrums?’
she cried furiously, trying to wrench her hand away. ‘If that’s what you call my refusal to believe your lies…!’

‘I haven’t lied to you – you’ve been lying to yourself. Your pride is the villain in all this, and if you want things to ever be again what they once were, then you’re going to have to set that pride aside once and for all!’ His eyes were cold and glitter-bright as he looked down at her. ‘You want me back, don’t you? Oh yes, I know that you do. I can feel it whenever I’m near you.’

‘I’d rather die than take you back!’ she breathed, still trying to pull free.

‘You can’t fool me, Jane, I know you too well!’

‘Not that well, sirrah!’

He gave a cool smile. ‘Oh yes I do,’ he said softly, ‘well enough to be certain that I can read your every thought. Admit you’ve been wrong all along, Jane, admit it on your knees if necessary, and I might, just might, forgive you.’

‘You arrogant, insufferable…!’

‘Is the prize worth winning?’ he interrupted. ‘Don’t you remember how good things were between us? Well
I
remember, but I’m damned if I’m going
to make it easy for you to put yourself in the right again. It’s going to be uphill from now on, Jane, and I’ll make you struggle every inch of the way. And in case you should still be vain enough to pretend that you don’t want me, perhaps this will go some way toward convincing you.’

Twisting her close, his grip on her wrist as vicelike as steel, he forced her against him. A small cry of pain escaped her before his lips were over hers, bearing down with such a force that it almost stopped her breath. She could feel the hardness of his body through the soft muslin of her gown. His heart was beating close to hers. The kiss offered her no quarter; it was brutal and demanding, sending a dizzying, bewildering weakness flooding through her veins. She wanted to surrender, to succumb to him right there on the dark, secluded beach, but a harsh sanity called to her from beyond the bonds of passion and desire which coiled so irresistibly around her. Reaching into the depths of her being for the strength to withstand the almost overwhelming temptation, she at last managed to wrench herself free.

‘No!’ she cried, her heart thundering in her breast and a bright flush staining her hot cheeks.

He gave a thin smile, not attempting to touch her again. ‘You’ll come to me, Jane,’ he said softly, ‘and you’ll do so on
my
terms.’

‘Never!’

‘You’ve got too much passion in your soul, Jane Derwent, and it’s a passion which only I’ve aroused. Charles Moncarm could never stir your blood as I do, and you know it. I can reach into that soul at any time and rouse that passion, but I’m not going to any more. I’m not even going to try to meet you halfway. You’re going to be treated with all the cool distance you’ve been claiming you want, and I don’t think you’re going to find it at all to your liking.’

‘It will be very much to my liking, sir!’ she replied coldly, but inside her pulse was still racing with treacherous excitement. She was confused and upset, and striving with all her might to hide the fact from him. He spoke of allowing her back on his terms, but he hadn’t once mentioned loving her. Did he really think his skill as a lover would convince her to accept his lies? But, oh, how she wanted to accept them, how she wanted to reach out to him…. Her heart was close to betraying her, and she turned abruptly away toward the sea, where the waves broke gently against the sandy shore.

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