by Mary Lyons
‘You can say that again!’
‘So It’s obvious that you need a large injection of money, both to maintain the fabric of the house and also to employ a first-rate curator to rearrange and run the museum. Spending a sum on advertising Sir Tristram’s collection would also be a good idea, and certainly bring many more people to the house.’
‘But I—’
‘Hang on a minute—I haven’t finished,’ he told her briskly. ‘I do also have a private, personal reason for being concerned with both you and this house. Unfortunately, I can’t discuss it at the moment. Mainly because I could be wrong, and the fact that I’m still awaiting confirmation from my lawyers in America.
‘However, leaving that aside,’ he continued quickly as she frowned at him in puzzlement, ‘I don’t think you should underestimate the problem of Lady Marshall. I will lay any odds you like that by telling her a few home truths the other night you’ve definitely cooked your goose as far as she’s concerned. Although I enjoyed your spirited defence, of both yourself and Betty, I’m quite sure that she will have been in touch with her lawyers to see if she has any way of evicting you from this house.’
‘Yes.’ Angelica sighed heavily. ‘I expect that you’re right. I don’t think she can actually get rid of me—but that won’t stop her trying, will it?’
Luke shook his dark head. ‘I’m afraid not. Which is why you need a white knight to come galloping to your rescue. One who is not only extremely rich, but also used to the hard, tough infighting of the business scene, and not worried about taking on the Lady Marshalls of this world. And, therefore, while it may be immodest of me to say so, I think I fill the bill admirably!’
There was a long silence, before Angelica slowly rose to her feet and began pacing up and down the lawn in front of the bench.
‘I’m not sure if I’ve got this right,’ she said at last, turning to face him, ‘but it sounds as if you are offering to marry me because you’re fed up with your present way of life, don’t much care for your luxurious apartment, and want to avoid marrying a determined woman—with whom you’re having an affair…’
‘No—you’re wrong,’ he interjected quickly. ‘I haven’t—er—had anything to do with Eleanor for some time. Not since first meeting you, in fact.’
‘Oh, wow! Am I supposed to be flattered by that fact?’ Angelica enquired sweetly through clenched teeth.
He shrugged. ‘I was merely putting the record straight,’ he told her coolly. ‘However, it occurs to me that I should maybe state, at this point in our discussion, that I firmly believe in the sanctity of marriage. Which means that I would expect both of us to be entirely faithful to one another.’
‘Wow—you really are intending to change the habits of a lifetime, aren’t you?’ she retorted sarcastically. ‘So, it appears that in return for rescuing you from a boring apartment, a tedious job and Eleanor—who is clearly a number-crunching, predatory female—you are offering to spend thousands of pounds putting this house and Sir Tristram’s collection in good condition. Right?’
‘Correct. And I’m guaranteeing to get Lady Marshall off your back,’ he reminded her with a sardonic grin, ‘That alone must be worth a fortune!’
‘Yes—If I were interested solely in money. But, while I’ve been listening carefully to all that garbage you’ve been spouting about finance and marriage, I’ve yet to hear why you want to marry me. You could, after all, solve all your problems at one stroke by picking any one of the names from your large address book. And save yourself a fortune at the same time, So why me, of all people?’
‘Because you’re bright, amusing and you’d never be boring,’ he answered promptly. ‘Because I would enjoy being able to look after you, and to ensure that you have a comfortable lifestyle—it might be fun to have a place In the country for weekends, for instance. And, of course, there’s Betty,’ he added with a grin. ‘By marrying you, I can make sure of an endless supply of home-made jam and chocolate cake!’
‘Is that all?’ she demanded stonily.
‘Of course not.’ He gave a low, sensual laugh as he rose to his feet’ and began walking towards her. ‘In fact, my dear Angelica, you know very well that it isn’t!’
‘I…I don’t know anything of the sort,’ she muttered, backing hurriedly away from his advancing figure, her progress interrupted as she bumped into a nearby oak tree.
‘Oh, yes, you do!’ he taunted with a cruel, sardonic smile as he moved slowly, like a leopard stalking his prey, and she found herself trapped with her back hard up against the rough bark of the tree.
‘Get lost!’ she gasped. ‘If you think that I’m for sale, or that I can be taken over like…like some of those companies you now control, you’re dead wrong!’
‘Ah—but I’m dead right about this…!’ he said huskily, putting his hands firmly about her waist and pulling her closely to him. ‘You may be a totally maddening girl, who regularly drives me up the wall, but… but when you’re in my arms there’s an undeniable spark of magic between us.’
‘No!’ she gasped helplessly as he raised a hand to tuck a stray lock of her long, pale blonde hair behind her ear gently, the soft touch of his warm fingers sending shivers tumbling down her spine. A pulse throbbed feverishly in her throat as his hand moved slowly down her neck, continuing on over her firm breast, whose tip hardened beneath his touch. Heat scorched through her trembling body, and she couldn’t prevent herself from giving a quick gasp of pleasure at his intimate caress.
‘Oh, yes…!’ he breathed, his arms closing about her as, almost faint with dizziness, she swayed against the firm support of his hard figure. ‘You want me, Angelica, every bit as much as I want you. It’s useless to deny it,’ he whispered, lowering his dark head until his lips were poised only a fraction above her own, before softly and delicately tracing the outline of her mouth.
Angelica tried to steel herself, but she could feel all her remaining resistance draining away beneath the soft pressure of his lips. She was unable to tell when the gentle, beguiling caress slowly changed to a kiss of scorching, intense possession. Once again, it seemed that from the moment his mouth touched hers he was able effortlessly to tear down all her carefully erected barriers, urgently compelling her to surrender to the passionate response he was demanding.
Reality seemed light-years away. She was only conscious of the hard pressure of the thighs pressed tightly to her own, her breasts crushed against his muscular chest, and a driving force deep inside her, clamouring for release, an overwhelming need to respond to the powerfully seductive, deepening kiss that feverishly tormented her senses.
Helplessly trapped like a moth by the flames of her own need and desire, she could only respond to the burning lips demanding her total submission, His kiss deepened until she was hardly able to breathe, before he began slowly to release the pressure.
As a shaft of late afternoon sunlight filtered through the leaves of the tree, its deep glow dazzled her eyes as they fluttered slowly open, her vision filled by Luke’s face only inches away from her own. His hooded grey eyes were glittering with aroused desire, a faint flush on the skin stretched tightly over his high cheekbones and formidable jawline; she saw the cruel sensuality of his lips as he stared intently down at her for a moment.
‘You don’t need me to answer your question, do you?’ he whispered huskily. ‘Because we both know, only too well, what other reason I might have for wanting to marry you, hmm?’
Angelica’s face burned, a deep tide of scarlet flooding over her pale cheeks at the recollection of just how she’d betrayed herself—yet again! As had happened so often in the past, she’d weakly allowed herself to fall under this man’s spell—a man who was well aware of the power he had over her emotions.
But now it was a deadly, ultimately fatal power. Because, with all the shocking force of a thunderbolt, she suddenly realised that she’d been fooling herself for some time. She now knew that she was deeply and irrevocably in love with this man. A man who was only
interested in her sexually, who she was very sure had no conception of the verb ‘to love’, and who appeared to believe that she was somehow up for sale to the highest bidder.
‘L-lust may be a reason to get married, but it… it’s not enough!’ she cried, tearing herself from his arms and leaning helplessly against the wide trunk of the oak tree, desperately trying to come to terms with the shattering truth of her longsuppressed feelings.
He shrugged and gave a harsh, sardonic laugh. ‘As far as I’m concerned, it will certainly do to be going on with!’
‘But I could never…I couldn’t possibly ever marry someone who wasn’t truly and deeply in love with me!’
‘Grow up, Angelica!’ he rasped, gesturing with his hand towards the wall, the buzz of traffic along the Embankment clearly audible in the quiet garden. ‘It’s a hard, tough old world out there and lust—however much you may regret it—is a fact of life.’
‘Yes, I know, but…’ ‘Lust exists. It’s real. God knows, it’s certainly tangible!’ he continued relentlessly. ‘But as for this “love” you speak about, you can’t see, hear or touch it, can you? As far as I’m concerned, love is nothing but pure moonshine! It has about as much to do with real life as those fairy-stories my mother used to read to me when I was a small child.’
‘Well, I don’t care what you say!’ she cried, wrapping her arms about her slim body, which was shivering uncontrollably with nervous tension. Turn mot prepared to compromise. ‘I’m never accept that lust or sexual attraction is enough to base a relationship on. Never!’
He stared at her, his granite-hard grey eyes beneath their heavy lids boring into hers, so that she felt as if her brain was being probed by an X-ray machine.
‘Don’t make the mistake of underestimating me, Angelica,’ he said at last, his voice heavy with menace. ‘Or of thinking that I am going just to walk away. Believe me—I don’t give up that easily!’
‘I don’t want you—or your money!’ she ground out through clenched teeth. ‘So you can chat up Betty, or keep on knocking on my door, but I’m not going to change my mind.’
‘Oh, yes, you will,’ he told her with a supreme confidence which made her long to hit him. ‘For instance, I don’t think that you’ve thought matters through properly. What are you planning to do with Lady Marshall?’
‘What do you mean? I don’t intend to have anything more to do with the horrid old woman.’
He gave a bark of cruel laughter. ‘I wouldn’t count on it if I were you! In your shoes, I’d fully expect to be deluged by lawyer’s letters any day now.’
‘It won’t work, Luke.’ She lifted her chin scornfully towards him. ‘So you can stop trying to frighten me, OK?’
‘My dear girl, I wouldn’t dream of doing anything of the sort,’ he drawled smoothly, taking out his wallet and removing a visiting card, which he casually tucked into the pocket of her denim shirt. ‘I’m quite prepared to wait for you to come to your senses. So when you change your mind—as I’m quite certain you will!—just give me a ring, hmm?’
‘Go away!’ she shouted furiously as he lowered his head to brush his mouth swiftly across her lips, before turning to walk away towards the garden gate.
‘I… I wouldn’t marry you—not if you were the last man on earth!’ she yelled at his departing figure. ‘I won’t be bought or sold, like…like shares on the Stock Exchange. And if it means having to fight Lady Marshall on my own, that’s just too bad! I don’t need you, or your damn money!’
But the infuriating man merely gave a careless wave of his hand as he opened the garden gate, leaving only the sound of his sardonic laughter behind him as he disappeared from sight.
It seemed that Luke hadn’t exaggerated the problems she would face, Angelica acknowledged with a heavy sigh, placing yet another large bill on the pile waiting for payment.
It was almost three weeks since he’d casually walked out of the garden, after his extraordinary proposal, and she was already almost at her wits’ end, desperately wondering how to cope with her ever-incsreasing problems.
It wasn’t just the lack of money which was so troubling, although it was a major contribution to her sleepless nights, when she would pace the floor desperately trying to decide which accounts to pay if and when she could find the money. A newly married, impecunious friend had once remarked that ‘Happiness is not having to worry about the electricity and telephone bills’, And, although Angelica could remember laughing at the time, she was now able to appreciate fully just what her friend had meant.
However, as Luke had so accurately forecast, It was Lady Marshall who was proving to be her most troublesome adversary. There had been the expected letters from the trust’s lawyers, of course. But, since the law seemed designed for delay, Angelica knew that she could stall matters for some considerable time. Unfortunately, there were many other sudden demands from officialdom which could not be so easily ignored.
Not that Lady Marshall had come out into the open, of course. But the awful old woman was clearly the primary malevolent influence behind the local council’s sudden demand that, since Lonsdale House was open to the public, it must comply with goodness knew how many by-laws—most of which had been drawn up hundreds of years ago. And Angelica also suspected that the sudden arrival of a fire-inspection team could be laid at her door, as well as the detailed letters and stringent enquiries from both the local income tax and VAT offices.
All in all, the past weeks had been a nightmare.
The attitude of her old housekeeper and nanny hadn’t helped either. Betty’s temper seemed to be on a particularly short fuse these days, the ominous sound of crashing pots and pans down in the kitchen being the overture to muttered warnings about her leaving Lonsdale House. Angelica knew that the older woman wouldn’t really put her dire threats into action, but now—when it was far too late—she dearly wished that she hadn’t told Betty off about her underhand behaviour in sneakily letting Luke into the walled garden.
‘There’s none so blind as those in love,’ Betty had snapped. ‘Just because you’re so damn stubborn and can’t see beyond the end of your nose, there’s no call to be so hoity-toity with me, my girl! If you want to look a gift horse in the mouth, and throw away a real chance of happiness, that’s your look-out. Just don’t come crying to me when he marries someone else, because I’ll only say that it’s all your own silly fault!’
Unfortunately, those few words had led to many more, ending in the worst quarrel they’d ever had, and leaving them both thoroughly upset.
And it had been no use her trying to escape by putting aside her problems for a few hours while acting as a guide for Footsteps in Time. Because— and this had probably been the most upsetting of all her recent trials and tribulations—David Webster had been unable to employ her any more.
‘I’m sorry, Angelica,’ he’d said with an unhappy shrug. ‘But my new partner in the business absolutely Insists that all our guides should hold a blue badge. So I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do at the moment. However, I’m sure that it won’t take you long to get one,’ he’d added bracingly.
But they both knew that to gain a blue badge was very difficult indeed. It involved a tough, six-month training programme, followed by an even tougher exam held by the London Tourist Board. So it wasn’t only a much coveted award, but also a solid guarantee to the public that they were in the safe hands of experts on the history and geography of London.
In fact it was her old schoolfriend, Kim, who’d been a tower of strength during these past weeks. But even she had been ruthlessly blunt when Angelica had visited her apartment at Chelsea Harbour for supper last night.
‘I think you’re mad!’ Kim had said bluntly as she’d lifted the phone to order their meal to be delivered from a nearby Chinese restaurant. An archfeminist to her fingertips, Kim resolutely refused to learn to cook, existing on frozen meals from the supermarket or take-away dishes from the many local restaurants—a fact which shocked Betty to the core.
&n
bsp; ‘Why give yourself all this grief and hassle?’ Kim had added, putting down the phone and pouring them both a glass of cold white wine.’ ‘All you have to do is to phone Luke and tell him that you’ve changed your mind.’
‘Are you insane, or what?’ Angelica screeched, unable to believe that her fiercely independent friend could be giving her such feeble advice. ‘Are you seriously suggesting that I should sell myself for filthy lucre? Because that’s what it amounts to, you know. He appears to have only one thing on his mind, and it’s a three letter word spelled S.E.X.!’
‘So…?’
‘What do you mean?’
Kim laughed. ‘You don’t fool me, kid. You’re just crazy about him, right? And why not? He’s spectacularly good-looking, as rich as Croesus, and a really amusing guy. What more do you want? Frankly, I’d advise you to grab him while the going’s good.’
‘I’m not crazy about him,’ Angelica lied fiercely. ‘Besides, when I marry, I want someone I can trust. And, believe me, Luke Cunningham is supremely untrustworthy.’
‘Oh, come on—that just makes him more interesting,’ Kim laughed. ‘You’ve lived a damned boring life so far. I reckon you need a bit of excitement. And making sure that Mr Moneybags remains faithful and true would certainly keep you on your toes!’
‘Kim! What on earth has come over you? How can you talk such nonsense!’ Angelica wailed, gazing at her friend with disbelief. ‘You’ve been such a good friend these past weeks. I was so sure…so certain that you’d somehow come up with an answer—or at least give me some good advice on how to cope with the situation.’
‘Well, you’re quite right, because I’m doing just that.’ Kim put down her glass. ‘Look here—you and I are as different as chalk from cheese, right? So what suits me would be no good for you, and vice versa. Now it seems that you’ve had the luck to find a man who wants to look after you—to take all the burdens off your shoulders, and smooth your path in life. I have to say,’ she added with a laugh, ‘that sort of set-up would drive me crazy. But you really love your dotty old house, and all those weird and wonderful curios in the museum. You want to continue living there until kingdom come—preferably with a loving husband, a horde of kids, and Betty whipping up calorie-laden culinary masterpieces in that awful old kitchen! Right?’
