The Temptation of Laura

by Rachel Brimble

  “We can’t do this.”

  She hurried into the living room and climbed onto the bed beside Bette. She gathered her friend—her strength—into her arms and pressed a kiss to Bette’s hair. With her arms wrapped around the familiarity she’d come to rely on, Laura released her held breath and met Adam’s stare as he stood in the doorway.

  She swallowed. “He’s all right. Adam’s all right.”

  Bette patted her leg. “But you’re not. You deserve this, you know.”

  “Deserve what?” Laura frowned, her heart racing. What was Bette saying? Did she suspect what Laura already knew? She was falling head over sense in lust with a star of the stage.

  Adam’s face was in shadow and his shoulders high. A stance of determination. Her stomach twisted with trepidation when he entered the room. With his face lit by candlelight, he glanced from her to Bette and back again. He opened his mouth and then clamped it shut. Laura tensed, thankful for Bette’s silence, although it must have been nearly killing the woman to be keeping her thoughts to herself.

  He circled the room. Once. Twice. He came to a standstill and faced them.

  Laura sucked in a breath. “You should go.”

  “I will once you are ready to come with me.”

  She blanched. “Come with you? What on earth are you suggesting?”

  Bette struggled away from Laura’s embrace and hitched higher against the pillow. She coughed. “You want Laura to go with you?”

  “Of course he doesn’t.” She squeezed Bette’s hand but couldn’t drag her gaze from Adam’s. “You need to leave. Knowing Baxter, he’ll be back here at first light. No doubt with some of his paid cronies to see if you’re still here. If they find you, you’ll be lucky to walk away with your kneecaps intact.” She slid her arms from Bette and left the bed, forcing false conviction into her voice. “Go. Please.”

  He crossed his arms, his jaw tight. “Pack a bag for you and Bette. You are coming with me.”

  Her heart pounded. “Have you lost your mind? I’m not going anywhere.”

  “I am not leaving you here. It is not safe. I want you both to come live with me.”

  Bette’s crack of laughter encapsulated Laura’s state of disbelief perfectly. She shook her head. “You really are living in a world of your own.”

  He glared. “Why stay in a place without heat and light when I have plenty of both. Why stay where Baxter can come and harangue you anytime he sees fit?”

  Unease whispered a warning over the hairs at the nape of her neck. She fisted her hands on her hips. What did he want from her? Was he insane? Dangerous? Yet the thought of accepting his ludicrous proposal inched into her consideration. It was as though the soft touch of his lips and the gentle tone of his words battered through her defenses and blinded her beyond all reason.

  She dug her nails into her palms, struggling to retain a semblance of rationale amid the sexual chaos battling around inside her. “You’re saying you want two whores to pack up and come live with you? Just like that.”

  He looked from her to Bette. “Yes, I know the journey across town will be hard for Bette to endure, but I can arrange for a carriage. Please, just say yes.”

  She gave a wry smile, ignoring the twist of trepidation in her stomach. “And what of your career? Your reputation? Don’t you think inviting us into your home will raise a few eyebrows amongst your society? Or does that not matter to you?”

  “I will deal with that.”

  She huffed out a laugh. “I get the impression nothing matters to you past your career. What is it you really have in mind for us, Mr. Lacey? Because, right now, I’m not buying this offer comes from the goodness of your heart.”

  God knows, I wish it was. . . .

  The ensuing silence spoke volumes and Laura narrowed her eyes against her disappointment. She opened her mouth to tell him to leave again when Bette’s huffing and puffing stole her attention. She turned. Bette was in the midst of untangling the bedclothes from her legs and moving from the bed.

  Laura rushed forward. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Bette halted, her face red with exertion, and exhaustion showing in the dark shadows under her eyes. “The man’s asking us to go live in his house. I’m getting out of this damn bed before he changes his mind.”

  “Are you insane? You carry on like this you’ll make yourself more poorly than ever.”

  Bette glared. “We’re going. I want out of this damn alley and away from Baxter. For both of us.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. I’ve made up my mind.” She gripped the bedpost. “Let’s do this. Right now. I want you safe and happy. There’s more chance of that happening at Mr. Lacey’s home than here.”

  “You’re ill. Have you forgotten that?”

  “How could I with you reminding me every damn minute? I won’t lie in this bed when we have the chance to get out of this godforsaken place. Don’t even think about trying to stop me.”

  Laura stared. Words failed her. Never in a month of Sundays would she have thought Bette would agree to such an outrageous suggestion—further proof of just how ill she truly was. Laura started when Adam touched her elbow.

  “Laura, look at me.”

  She turned but didn’t really see him. “This is madness.” She shook her head. “Less than a week ago, I left this house to go to the market. That was it. Go to the market and come home again with food for my dearest friend. I went to bed and prayed to God, asking Him to do something, anything to make Bette well again. Now tonight, you’re suggesting it’s perfectly sane for us to pack up and move in with you.”

  “Maybe your prayers have been answered in a way you cannot see or accept.”

  She glared. “Don’t mock me.”

  “I’m not. I am begging you. If you do this, it will mean I can work with you night and day on the play while Bette rests in warmth and comfort.”

  “Work with me? But—”

  He grasped her hands. “I want you in my play.”

  Irritation soared into her blood and hurt into her heart. None of this was about her or Bette. It was all about his stupid damn play. “Go. I want you to leave. It’s nearing midnight. Just leave and I’ll see you tomorrow at the theater.”

  She turned her back to him and faced Bette. “Get back into that bed. We’re not going anywhere. I’ve lived my life my way for a long time. I don’t need this from another man who thinks of nothing more than what use I can be to him.” She whirled around. “If you think for one second you can waltz into our life and turn it upside down, you are sorely mistaken.”

  Bette tugged on her arm and Laura turned. “What?”

  Bette pinned her with a glare. “And what about me?”

  Aware of Adam watching them, Laura silently pleaded with her friend not to fight her on this. “I’m doing this for you. Can’t you see he wants something from us?”

  “How much longer do you think I’m going to last?”

  Laura’s stomach knotted with fear to see such coldness in Bette’s eyes. They had barely shared a cross word in all the years they’d known, worked, and lived with each other. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m sick and I’m dying.” Bette’s voice cracked and her eyes turned glassy with unshed tears. “The blood is still coming up when I cough. My chest hurts and my lungs are clogged. So if Mr. Lacey wants you, damn well let him have you. For me. Let me die in a home instead of a damn hovel.”

  Bette put her bare feet on the floor. Laura said nothing when Adam came from behind her and clasped Bette’s elbows, helping her stand. The lack of control tasted bitter. There was no other option than to grant Bette anything she asked. Deep in her heart, she couldn’t deny Bette grew frailer every day. Odd bouts of attitude showed her determination to fight, but the lapses when she didn’t move or talk lasted longer and longer.

  Blinking against the cruel sting of tears, Laura touched Adam’s back and he straightened. She stared into his handsome face. “Leave us to get ready. Get a ca
rriage, a horse, whatever you think it is that will get us from here across town. We’ll be ready as soon as we can.”

  He smiled and blew out a breath. “You won’t regret this. It will be a lot of work, but we’re going to make it happen.”

  “If by it you mean your play, I think you’ve lost all grasp on reality. I’m agreeing to come home with you for one reason and one reason only. Bette. My friend. The only person I’ve been able to rely on my entire life.” Tears clogged her throat. “I don’t trust you. I don’t believe in fairy tales or heroes on horseback. This is the real world. Sooner or later, you’ll show who you are and rest assured, I’ll see you clearly the very first time that happens.”

  He stared, his gaze intense with determination. “I’ve already shown you who I am. More times than I’ve ever shown anyone.” He turned to Bette. “I’ll see you soon.”

  She gave a curt nod. “That you will.”

  Laura stared at a spot on the wall as he swept past her. Once the front door opened and slammed shut behind him, she faced Bette. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

  Bette grasped her hand tightly. “This is the right thing to do. Come hell or high water, I swear to God that man is going to change your life.”

  Laura sniffed. “I agree. The question is, am I going to end up worse off than I would have if I hadn’t walked into that theater? Maybe there was good reason why I never dared stepped inside there before.”

  Bette’s hand slipped from hers and she hobbled away, holding on to the furniture as she lurched to the door. “I see good things in your future, missy. All the good you’ve done is going to come back and sweep you right off your feet.”

  Bette left the room and Laura looked toward the window and the pitch-black night beyond. “Maybe he already has.”

  Adam stood at his dining room table and fiddled with the Michaelmas daisies he’d put in a vase and placed in the center. Why wouldn’t that damn bloom stand straight? His hands shook and he swiped his arm over his perspiring forehead. Since when did he fuss over flowers or get nervous in his own home? What in God’s name had he done?

  The dining-room door swung open and he snatched his hand from the vase, plastering on a wide smile.

  “Ladies, good morning.” He gestured to the table. “Are you hungry?”

  Laura led Bette carefully by the arm into the room. Her friend’s inner strength and fortitude were still as strong as they had been when they’d left their house the evening before. Arguing with Bette’s determination to come downstairs had been equally as futile as Laura’s protestations about them coming to Adam’s home, so she’d given up.

  She nodded toward the table. “Did you do all this?”

  He glanced toward what he considered a minimal breakfast, but judging by the expression on Laura’s face, it was far too much. “Do you not like toast and eggs? I can find some meats? Or cheese?”

  Her smile was tentative, but when she met his gaze, a quiet joy shone in her eyes. His heart twisted. God, she was beautiful.

  She laughed. “You are full of surprises, Adam Lacey.”

  He released his held breath and grinned. “Long may it last. I have to do something to keep you on your toes, as you do me. Come. Sit down and make yourselves comfortable.”

  Laura glanced at Bette, a tinge of red darkening her cheeks. “Bette insisted on getting out of bed, but I wonder if she could take a tray on her lap at the settee? She’s as stubborn as a mule . . .” She narrowed her eyes. “And mules should not be seated at a breakfast table.”

  Bette huffed. “But they should at a settee?” She shook her head and winked at Adam. “The girl needs her head looked at if she thinks I’m going to sit in that bedroom rather than breakfast with you down here. I’ll leave it for you to decide where I sit, Mr. Lacey.”

  Adam stepped forward and took Bette’s arm. “It’s Adam from now on, and I think a tray at the settee is perfect. Especially for what I have planned after we’ve eaten.”

  Steadfastly avoiding their study, Adam led Bette to the settee. Once she was seated, he hurried from the room and into the kitchen. After grabbing a tray from the dresser closet, he rushed back into the dining room, part of him fearing they’d be gone when he returned.

  He exhaled. “Here we go. Now, then, tea or coffee?” He glanced at Laura. Her expression had changed. She now looked at him as though he were an interloper rather than the host. No doubt the two women had exchanged words in his absence. “Won’t you sit?”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Don’t you want me to serve Bette?”

  Adam frowned, his smile faltering. “Why would I want that?”

  Her blush was the prettiest thing on her yet. It was the softest pink, as opposed to the angry red he’d caused time and again. Or even the scarlet flush of desire after they kissed . . . the pink revealed her embarrassment, her insecurity. Adam’s heart lurched. “Laura?”

  She shook her head and waved a hand. “I’m being silly. I just didn’t expect someone like you to serve, that’s all.”

  Amused, he turned to the table and picked up a fork, spearing some bacon. “Someone like me?”

  A beat of silence passed before she cleared her throat. “Someone famous. After all, you and Monica Danes are well-known around here. Or are you going to be so modest as to not admit that?”

  He placed some scrambled eggs and toast next to the bacon and turned. “The day I can’t serve myself or my guests, and instead rely on someone else to do it for me, is the day I give up acting and start scrubbing pots and pans to bring my feet firmly back to the ground.”

  He set the plate on the tray and poured some tea into a cup. “My parents are the snobs in the Lacey family, not me. I’ve seen enough of that superior nonsense to last a lifetime.”

  Her ensuing silence left Adam wondering what his words meant to her. He approached Bette, where she’d gotten comfortable on the settee, and placed the tray on her knees.

  “There you go. That should put some color back into those gorgeous cheeks of yours.”

  Bette laughed, the rasp hoarse against her weak chest. “Lord, now I see why you’ve got Laura all of a dither. You surely are the most cocksure charmer to ever grace God’s earth.”

  Laughing, Adam turned. He’d gotten Laura all of a dither. Thank God, because that put it mildly for what she was doing to him.

  She’d taken a seat at the table. The bronze tendrils brushing her cheeks had fallen forward, obscuring her face. Adam smiled. Judging by the way her shoulders were hunched barely an inch beneath her earlobes, she’d only too clearly heard what Bette had said.

  Was it egotistical to appreciate the knot of satisfaction that curled in his stomach?

  He approached the table, purposely sitting beside her rather than opposite her. Not only did he want to be as close to her as possible, they had a better view of Bette should she need anything, tire, or take a turn for the worse. Guilt he might have compounded her illness rather than helped it during the chilly journey across town lingered in his conscience.

  “Adam?” Laura’s voice broke through his reverie and she touched his hand lying on the table. “Thank you.”

  Her violet eyes were wide with happiness. The sight of her in his home, sitting at his table, took his breath away. All he could think was how right it felt to have her there, to see her looking at him that way, a smile at her mouth and her body at ease.

  He smiled and stared at those damn clever lips of hers. “You’re welcome.”

  Breakfast passed in amicable conversation. Adam laughed as he hadn’t in months over Bette’s stories and Laura’s protestations. They were a comedic double act one minute and sisters-in-arms the next. The love, respect, and care they held for each other came from them in waves. He’d never seen such commitment for one another from two people in his entire life.

  He’d never wanted it or sought it before, but now that he’d witnessed the beauty in Laura’s relationship with Bette, it made him yearn for the same level of intimacy with someone.<
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  He struggled to drag his gaze from Laura’s profile. What would happen to her if Bette died? What would happen to this woman who emanated such goodness, such determination and tenacity? Would she wither inside and lose the integral piece of her that made her shine from the inside out? Would her spirit be crushed, never to return?

  A sudden clatter of cutlery broke into his thoughts and he blinked. Bette was struggling to put her tray on the table in front of her. He and Laura simultaneously leaped to their feet and left the table.

  “Whoa there, Bette. I’ve got it.” Adam reached her first and just managed to take the tray before it tumbled from her hands.

  A raw and violent coughing ensued. Whilst Bette struggled to catch her breath, he and Laura did their best to comfort her. When Bette had calmed, Laura grabbed cushions from the surrounding armchairs and plumped them behind her dear friend.

  “Right, lean back.” Laura’s voice cracked. “Adam knows we’re grateful for him opening his home to us, but enough trying to act as though you’re fit and well. You’re not.” She swiped her trembling hand over her face. “Once you’ve got your breath back, I’m helping you upstairs to bed and you’ll stay there.”

  Adam stood back. Laura shook from head to toe, her fear for Bette clear in her shaky gestures and quivering voice. Did she already know what Adam had only guessed? He swallowed the fear that Bette had only days to live and clapped his hands.

  “Right, well, seeing as Bette is under orders, I’m going to take advantage of having her commandeered to the settee.”

  Laura faced him and her pretty brow creased. “What do you mean?”

  He forced a smile to his lips and enthusiasm into his voice. “I want to prove to you that you are capable of being an actress. A great actress.”

  She looked from him to Bette. “What’s he talking about?”

  Bette smiled and collapsed against the cushions. “How should I know? The man has two whores living in his house as though it’s the natural order of things. He’s a mystery to himself, I shouldn’t wonder.”

  Grinning, Adam moved to the center of the room and held out his arms. “This, Laura Robinson, is your stage. Today is your first acting lesson.”