Passionate Retribution

by Kim Lawrence

  Emily made an inarticulate sound in her throat; rage swept through her like a tidal wave and the two came up for air.

  ‘Won’t you introduce us, Luke?’ Blue eyes coldly skimmed Emily’s dishevelled figure. ‘I have to discover by accident—’ the smile touched Luke and widened almost to encompass Emily ‘—that he is in London. I’m Luke’s nearest neighbour in Scotland,’ she explained, her fingers playfully running up and down Luke’s forearm. ‘Once in a while I check his place there hasn’t totally collapsed when it’s empty, and get major damage like gaping holes in the roof repaired. I thought, darling, we were doomed to pass like ships in the night. But you’ve been here all along.’

  Emily smiled in a strained way. ‘Luke must be very grateful,’ she murmured drily.

  ‘Luke can be an angel, can’t he, if he can be bothered? The rest of the time he’s hopeless. Don’t you think?’ The sly, laughing glance was intercepted by a unruffled Luke. A beautifully manicured hand was stretched out to Emily. ‘I’m Beth Urquhart, as Luke has quite forgotten his manners. Call me Beth.’

  Emily somewhat self-consciously accepted the pearly-nailed hand. ‘I’m Emily Stapely.’ She found herself emphasising her surname and casting Luke a half-challenging look from beneath the sweep of her lashes. I’m damned if I’m going to apologise to her, you, or anyone else for my name, the look said, and the flicker in his eyes told her the message had been received. She checked for signs of recognition on the other girl’s face and detected none.

  ‘Well, Emily, are you staying long with Luke, or is it just an afternoon visit?’ The implication of the sordid and trivial nature of their liaison was masterly.

  Luke stared passively at Emily’s red face. ‘Emily is aware of the ultimate privilege. She’s living here.’

  ‘A sort of house-sitter. Where are you off to next, Luke?’

  The woman was either totally dense or wilfully blind, and obviously besotted with Luke. The insults delivered in the exquisitely modulated tone were making Emily want to scream. What sort of woman accepted that a man she was obviously laying claim to took another woman to bed? ‘It’s terribly good of you to clean for Luke,’ Emily said quietly. ’the cottage was in excellent order.’ Two could play that game! With pleasure she saw the older woman stiffen. The steady throb of acid jealousy was making her dizzy.

  ‘I was led to believe he can’t bear distractions while he’s working in Scotland,’ the blonde said, her tone sharp. But when she looked towards Luke there was only blatant adoration. It made Emily feel sick. She felt totally excluded, which had no doubt been the object of the exercise. Beth obviously regarded Luke as her property north of the border. Emily’s presence in the cottage had gone down very badly.

  ‘Emily’s been helping with the typing.’

  ‘That’s me, general girl Friday and all-round good sport,’ she agreed with a brisk and good-natured smile. The look she flashed Luke promised reprisal for this categorising as the hired menial. Never do to upset the girlfriend, would it? The bland smile it was received with made her even white teeth grate and her jaw ache with the effort to maintain her own vacuous grin.

  ‘I could have arranged that for you, Luke.’

  ‘But you do so much for me, sweetheart,’ Luke drawled. He gave a laconic smile and sent Emily a challenging look. ‘I couldn’t impose, darling.’

  That’ll be a first, Emily thought, suppressing the childish interruption that sprang to her lips. The casual endearment was murmured with a smug relish. If they think I’m going to depart tactfully, she thought furiously, reading several chapters between the lines, they can think again. The attraction of the north of Scotland was suddenly a great deal clearer. She cursed herself for a fool for not realising Luke would always have a female at hand wherever he went. ’that’s Luke for you—all sweet consideration and old-world charm. The ultimate Boy Scout.’

  ‘Anything you can’t handle, Miss Stapely?’

  Emily was aware of Luke’s narrow-eyed scrutiny as the challenge was issued. ‘Call me Emily, please, Beth.’ Simpering didn’t come easily but she imagined her present expression came as near as she’d ever get. If Luke thinks I’m going to brawl for his favours he can live with disappointment, she thought, feeling no urge to emulate the other woman’s blatant tactics. ‘Actually, there’s the small matter of a wedding tomorrow; if you’d substitute I’d be eternally grateful.’ And let ‘call me Beth’ make of that what she likes, she thought viciously. This tall, elegant woman symbolised every other predictably gorgeous woman she’d ever seen Luke with, and as such didn’t inspire warmth and friendliness in her breast. I hope he has one hell of a job smoothing this one over, she asserted silently.

  Beth went rigid, the classically perfect face white, her eyes seeking Luke, waiting for him to disprove this claim.

  ‘Wait in the bedroom, Emily.’

  Emily had already interpreted the signals the older woman was broadcasting. Fear…She felt a strange empathy. Wasn’t this how she felt too? She suddenly felt ashamed of enjoying the pain she’d inflicted. But at Luke’s terse command she stiffened.

  Silently, head held high, she left them. She stood behind the door, her heart pounding. This was the way it would be. Luke had no intention of altering his lifestyle; he might even bring his women here, as if she didn’t exist. He had actually dismissed her! The door hadn’t closed properly and voices began to make themselves clear above the thunderous roar of her own blood pounding in her ears.

  ‘You’re not taking advantage of this child, are you, Luke?’

  ‘I’m marrying Emily, Beth.’

  ‘I understand, Luke. You’ve been so patient with me.’ The throb of emotion made the cultured voice sound less brittle. Emily held her breath, straining to catch each word.

  ‘Patience doesn’t enter into it, Beth.’

  ‘I’d never have survived without you after Martin died. I was so angry with him for…daring to leave me.’

  ‘Perfectly natural…’

  ‘It took a long time for me to grieve properly.’ Again the throb of emotion, the vulnerability she was allowing Luke to see, made Emily want to cry out in protest.

  ‘You’ve got to look to the future, Beth, and stop feeling guilty for a normal reaction. You have everything to look forward to.’

  ‘I took off the ring, did you notice?’ The woman’s voice was breathless, excited.

  ‘I noticed and I’m happy for you, Beth.’

  ‘For us, Luke. Don’t you see, we can build a life together? I’ve buried Martin at last; I can build a new future. I blame myself that you’ve turned to this child.’

  The silence went on for an eloquent eternity. Emily closed the door carefully with a soft click.

  By the time Luke returned, Emily already had a small bag packed. She felt cold, composed, and just a little dead.

  His eyes swiftly assessed the scene. ‘What the hell is going on?’

  ‘I’m leaving.’ This is what it feels like to have hope extinguished, she realised, taking a denim jacket and sliding her arms into it. The relentless flame of optimism she’d sustained on the meagre substance at her disposal was just a smoky memory. ‘I’m not going to marry you, Luke. I’m sorry if that deprives you of the opportunity to gloat.’ She shrugged and went to pick up the small case.

  Luke beat her to it. He deliberately emptied the hurriedly packed contents on to the floor and ground his heel into the resulting pile. ‘You’re not going anywhere.’ His expression was remote, icy, the danger of eruptive fury in the inhuman control.

  ‘You can keep those,’ she said, ignoring this statement. ‘I’ll leave in what I stand up in.’ All the vitality had drained from her voice, but not her determination. ‘Comfort yourself with the knowledge that Dad will crumble when you tell him your lies. It should keep you warm at nights when Beth isn’t available. I hope you’ll make my apologies to her.’

  ‘Beth has gone,’ he said flatly.

  ‘This juggling of women must get tiresome,’ she sai
d with narrow-eyed sympathy.

  ‘I don’t love Beth, Emmy. Listen…’

  ‘Love!’ she snorted. ‘I never for a moment imagined you did. I doubt if you’re capable, but she loves you.’

  ‘Martin, her husband, was a friend of mine. I was with hun when he was killed in Beirut three years ago.’

  ‘Is that why she feels so guilty? I suppose you were having an affair then. Isn’t it convenient that now she wants to make it official you’re engaged? You like your liaisons to be disposable, don’t you, Luke? Am I to be your excuse to keep her at arm’s length?’

  ‘You’re blindly jealous.’ Anger was licking the edges of control from his voice. ‘It doesn’t pay to listen to half a conversation,’ he said grimly. ’trust me, Emily.’

  She gave a brittle laugh. ’trust you? That’s a contradiction in terms, Luke. Distrust, suspicion and scheming are the activites I instinctively link with your name. I can’t stomach it any more. As for jealous,’ she jeered spitefully, ‘you seem to forget why I’m here to begin with. You hardly think I’d have chosen you as a lover without being blackmailed into it, do you? Your problem is you still think I’m a naive little schoolgirl, and you had me convinced of the same thing too. I’m calling your bluff, Luke…Anything has to be preferable to marriage to you,’ she said fiercely. ‘I made a mistake when I slept with you, but I don’t intend to compound it by staying here…and—’ her voice trembled as she looked at the bed and the evocative evidence of its recent occupation ‘—repeating the same mistake.’ Her eyes remained dry, but her chest heaved with violent emotion.

  ‘If that is the case I don’t think there’s much more to say, is there?’ A light behind his eyes seemed to have been switched off; they were just as blue, but blank… dead. ‘You really don’t think I’m capable of recognising a moral, let alone displaying principles, do you, Emily?’

  Their eyes locked and she shivered convulsively at the icy contempt. ‘I think you save your moral crusades for the television screen. Your personal life seems totally devoted to your crusade for revenge.’

  ‘I’m deeply touched by this display of faith,’ he drawled, his expression one of refined disgust. ‘I have always derived satisfaction when I’ve managed to disturb the synthetically perfect Stapely household, but do you really think I’m insecure enough to give this priority in my life? Besides, all preconceptions, all parameters can be re-drawn for certain women.’ His voice had the texture of raw silk, and she stared at him in fascinated half-comprehension. ’special women, women capable of giving and trusting—an awesome amount of power to place in the hands of an inconsistent female, but then men too have their vulnerabilities.’ The nerve in his right cheek clenched erratically and his eyes burned with zealot-like fervour.

  ‘There’s nothing for me here?’ It was Beth Urquhart he wanted. He was telling her in the cruellest way possible that she, Emily, had only ever been a minor event, like his attempts to redress the injustice his mother had suffered. Beth was the major attraction, the one that could elicit such stark intensity. She willed him to respond; it was pathetic and she knew it, but at that moment anything from him, any sign of contrition, any tenderness, would have been enough to keep her there. She wanted to belong here with him, exclusively.

  His expression remained stony, remote, unyielding. He didn’t want her, exclusively or otherwise. If he did, he’d stop her. She walked out of the door, her heart breaking; she could almost hear the sound…

  CHAPTER NINE

  EMILY smoothed the simple blue silk shift she wore; the antique gold chain around her neck looked faintly sybaritic against the simplicity of the garment, which relied on her slender figure to give it impact. Not for much longer, she thought wryly, surveying the increased curve of her breasts outlined against the fabnc. She allowed Gavin to take her jacket and shook her head to free the loose tendrils of hair that softened the elegant chignon where they had caught in the collar.

  ‘You look tremendous.’

  Emily accepted the compliment with a warm smile. She was glad they were friends again, and Gavin appeared to have accepted that they would never be anything more. She had literally bumped into him in a department store, but his acceptance of the situation had taken the initial strain from their relationship. She had enjoyed the occasional meal they had had together since she’d moved into her own small flat.

  Her best friend Martine had given her the breathing space she’d needed after she’d walked out on Luke. The noise and warmth of the ebullient household with its most recent addition, her six-month-old god-daughter, had made her wistful for all the things she’d missed out on. She had gone through the first few weeks in a numb daze. She didn’t want to recall the terrible bleak time, but now she had the incentive to go back out and meet life head-on. She had their child—her child, because Luke was not to know. About that she was fiercely determined—the child wouldn’t be more ammunition for him. Happiness and fulfilment might be denied her, but they were not prerequisites for a fruitful life; her child was part of Luke that no one could rob her of. When she’d received the confirmation of her pregnancy, one single emotion had risen above the seething mass—joy.

  Her first instinct had been to move as far away as possible, but friendly advice had made her realise the benefit of having her friends close at hand; and, while she had no intention of moving back into Charlcot, she didn’t want to lose contact with her family completely.

  The party was a glittering charity event and she was sure she would bump into other members of her family at some point. It was the sort of high-profile occasion that they felt duty bound to grace with their presence. ‘Is Charlotte coming?’ she asked innocently, nodding away a drinks tray.

  ‘I wouldn’t know.’

  She permitted herself a small smile. Despite the recent tiff, she suspected her sister and Gavin would be back together before long. Her eyes skimmed the crowded room, and she was content just to peoplewatch. The diamonds around necks challenged the glitter of the chandeliers, and she wondered what the starving millions the night was intended to aid would make of it all.

  She froze as they traversed the room, and felt the blood drain from her face. Her right hand went out to clutch at Gavin for support. ‘I can’t stay here…did you know? Hell, I’m going to be sick.’

  Her escort’s face bore a hunted expression as he glanced around to see if her extraordinary behaviour was drawing unwanted attention. ‘Are you ill? Should I get a doctor?’

  Seeing the piercing, predatory expression on Luke’s face as he got nearer, Emily thought that that might not be such a bad idea. ‘Luke…’ she muttered in Gavin’s ear by way of explanation. What was he doing here? He never attended this sort of party.

  The moment she had sensed him, before she’d even seen the tall, distinguished figure impeccable in his evening dress across the room, she had known that her recovery was paper-thin. The awful sense of deprivation that impelled her to say his name out loud sometimes, just to remind herself how it sounded, had been controllable; but this violent rush of emotion was not.

  ‘Hello, Luke.’ She felt impelled to be the first to speak, managing to sound at least relatively normal. ‘Beth.’ She found herself hating the woman with such vehemence that it was almost physical. They would be together; that had been no shock. They looked good— both tall, elegant, she divinely fair and he darkly handsome—a natural pairing. She felt like a shaggy, if cute little Shetland pony beside two thoroughbreds. She felt squashed beneath the oppressive weight of all that perfection.

  ‘Why, this is a real family gathering. I believe Charlie is around here somewhere,’ Luke said softly. He’d given Gavin one frankly murderous glare before reserving his attention for Emily. The intense blue of his eyes hit her like a laser. Bland indifference would have been more what she’d expected, and this unbridled aggression threw her even further off balance.

  ‘You and Emily are related?’ Beth sounded surprised. If she was put out by the gaping hole in the smooth surface
of social behaviour that Luke’s unwavering scrutiny had torn, her manner gave no indication. The even white teeth were a great advertisement for advanced dentistry, Emily thought, feeling quite justified in her silent bitchiness.

  ‘We’re cousins.’

  ‘I’m by way of being the black sheep in a very respectable clan, Beth. But Emily exaggerates our blood tie considerably. My mother was Charlie Stapely’s adoptive cousin; none of the sacred blood runs in my veins.’

  ‘You, a black sheep!’ Beth laughed huskily at the thought. ‘I had no idea you were nearly that dangerous, darling. How delicious!’

  Emily felt her teeth ache as they clamped together. Did she practise the sultry smile or was it natural flirtatiousness? Either way, she was sure that she herself could never perfect it.

  ‘Luke may not be a Stapely in name, but he has the family trait of feeling secure in his right to use lesser mortals to further his ambitions.’ She gave her best unblinking, sweetly simple smile which left enough doubt to make the company unsure of whether she intended to be quite as insulting as she sounded.

  The brooding contemplation flared into smouldering anger, and Emily tilted her chin with a defiance she was far from feeling. She tightened her grip on Gavin’s arm.

  ‘Our tune, Emily.’ She barely had time to blink in shock and rejection before Luke had extricated her from her escort and swung her into the middle of the other couples moving slowly to a nostalgic tune.

  ‘How dare you?’ she spat furiously, refusing to look up from his shirt-front. ‘We don’t have a tune,’ she added irrelevantly. It was so hard to think clearly with her body plastered against him, the scent of him awakening sharp memories that made her slither and slide into a sensual morass of endless craving.

  The hand in the small of her back performed an intricate arabesque along her spine before pulling her impossibly closer, the lower half of his body making no secret of the effect she was having on him. ‘A technical detail, sweetheart. We would have, if you hadn’t run out.’