The Secret Kiss of Darkness

by Christina Courtenay

  ‘Yes, of course. I shouldn’t even be here really, so please don’t mind me.’

  ‘It’s not a problem. As you may have noticed, this is quite a large house and one more person under its roof won’t make much difference.’

  Wes tried not to stare at her, but it was difficult because she was even prettier up close. And she smelled divine – some sort of flowery perfume that made him think of making love in a garden on a soft carpet of grass and surrounded by honeysuckle and roses. He took a deep breath and brought his unruly thoughts under control. What was wrong with him? He’d only just met the woman and here he was fantasising about love-making. This wouldn’t do.

  He gestured for her to follow him and led the way to the back of the hall and into a smaller room. ‘This is the breakfast room where we usually eat,’ he explained. ‘It’s not as formal as the dining room, which we only use for entertaining on a big scale. It’s been years since the last time. Must have been before my mother passed away.’

  He went on chatting about this and that, but afterwards he could never remember exactly what he’d said, as he was too busy admiring his guest. She was lovely, to put it mildly, and he wondered what on earth had brought her to his house.

  He couldn’t wait to find out.

  Sir Wesley seated her courteously, pulling out the chair for her, and Kayla again felt as if she had stumbled into a Regency novel by mistake. The impression was reinforced when Annie came into the room carrying a huge tray with two covered silver dishes, although at least the woman wasn’t wearing a maid’s uniform. Kayla almost giggled out loud. Maddie would have a field day when she told her about having dinner with a ‘Sir’ in a huge mansion, waited on by a servant.

  ‘Thank you, Annie,’ Sir Wesley said politely, and Kayla nodded her thanks as well.

  ‘Bone appetite,’ Annie replied cheerfully in mangled French, which made Kayla smile into her napkin.

  Thankfully dinner didn’t consist of umpteen different dishes as it would have done in Regency times; there was only a main course and dessert, and Kayla did justice to both. Now that she had relaxed a bit she found she was starving, and Annie seemed very pleased her efforts were appreciated.

  Kayla tried to make small talk at first. ‘So do you just run this estate then, with the help of your secretary?’ she asked.

  ‘Part of the time, but I’m also a corporate lawyer. I work freelance, specialising in helping companies with complicated contracts,’ Sir Wesley told Kayla. ‘I work mostly from home, but travel from time to time.’

  ‘That sounds interesting.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose it is.’ He shrugged, as if he hadn’t really thought about it.

  ‘You have a beautiful home. Has it been in your family for generations?’ Kayla already knew the answer, of course, but thought it might be a subject he’d be likely to want to talk about.

  He wasn’t very forthcoming, however, and appeared rather distracted, so after a short while Kayla concentrated on her food in silence. Sir Wesley ate with the scowl still in place, for the most part staring at his plate as if he would find the answer to his problems there, although from time to time she caught him gazing at her with a strange expression on his face. She judged it safer not to irritate him further by idle chatter. He didn’t seem to notice until near the end of the meal, when he suddenly looked up.

  ‘So what was it you wanted to see me about, Miss Sinclair?’

  Kayla swallowed hard. He was putting her on the spot and it was time to test her acting abilities. She gathered her strength and rattled off the tale she had made up a few days earlier.

  ‘I, uhm, understand that you own some paintings by Thomas Gainsborough and as I’m doing a paper on him for a course, I was wondering if you would let me have a look at them. Perhaps take a photograph or two, if you wouldn’t mind?’ Kayla felt very bad about lying to him, especially after he had so kindly invited her to stay and thereby saved her from getting lost in the storm. But her promise to Jago helped her to carry it off. ‘I did tell your secretary,’ she added defensively.

  ‘Yes, I’m sure you did, although as I told you, that wasn’t much use.’ He smiled at last and Kayla drew in a sharp breath, nearly choking on her last spoonful of dessert. For a stunned moment it was as though she was looking at Jago. It was the same devil-may-care piratical grin which had so affected her in London, and come to think of it, there were other similarities, too. The straight dark hair – although Sir Wesley’s wasn’t black, but dark brown, and much shorter of course – the rough-hewn features, the mouth, the laughter lines running just so. Kayla dropped her gaze as she remembered thinking how big Jago was and that she’d had the same thought about Sir Wesley earlier.

  Jesus, why didn’t I notice all this before? It must have been because Sir Wesley had scowled practically since they’d met, she concluded. Now that his features had relaxed into a smile, he looked completely different.

  Another thought intruded, puzzling her. Why should Sir Wesley look like Jago? Surely that was impossible? Jago had only been Eliza’s lover, so he was no relation to Sir Wesley, although … It was Kayla’s turn to frown. Had Jago planted a cuckoo in Sir John’s nest? What was the baby’s name again? Yes, it was even the same name – Wesley. She looked up and stared into a pair of very blue eyes with the beginnings of crow’s feet at the corners. Jago’s colour! That intense shade of blue had to be rare, especially when combined with such dark hair. Kayla swallowed hard. Yes, the cuckoo theory was a definite possibility, although they did also have a common ancestor in Jago’s father. Kayla made a mental note to look for a portrait of Sir Philip.

  The present day Sir Wesley interrupted her train of thought. ‘That stupid girl wouldn’t know a Gainsborough from the drawing of a six-year-old, so how she knew I owned any is beyond me. Anyway, I’ll show them to you tomorrow. They have to be viewed in daylight to be appreciated properly.’

  ‘Thank you, that would be very kind. I look forward to seeing them.’

  And Eliza – how would she look in daylight?

  Chapter Thirteen

  ‘I can feel him kicking. Can you? He’s a lively one and no mistake.’

  They were lying on Eliza’s bed, the curtains around it half shut to keep out any draughts. Since the secret door route was no longer an option, Jago had found an easier way to get into the house. He’d simply asked Eliza to leave one of the downstairs windows unlocked on the nights when John was from home, and he’d had no trouble entering.

  ‘I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before,’ he’d laughed. ‘Certainly would have made life easier.’

  ‘But someone could still see you.’ Eliza worried that the fierce butler, Armitage, would catch Jago in the act of what he’d see as breaking and entering.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m very careful.’ And so far all had been well.

  He placed his hand on her stomach now, delighting in the butterfly movements of their child. ‘How do you know it’s a he?’ he asked, smiling at her.

  ‘Because he’s never still, just like you.’ Eliza pulled him towards her for a lingering kiss.

  ‘I can be still. Especially if I have you sleeping in my arms.’ He pushed her shift down her shoulder so he could kiss the soft skin without hindrance. ‘After you’ve worn me out, of course.’ He gave her a wicked grin.

  ‘Not for long,’ she laughed. ‘But I like that about you. Your boundless energy, the way you’re always achieving something.’

  He made a face. ‘I haven’t achieved much. I just earn my daily bread like everyone else.’

  ‘That’s not what I hear.’

  ‘Oh? Been listening to gossip, have you, my love?’ He tried to distract her by moving his attentions downwards, since he didn’t like being praised and he had an inkling of what was coming. But Eliza wasn’t to be dissuaded.

  ‘Yes, as a matter of fact, I have. And I hear a lot of good things about you. The poor people around here apparently never starve, thanks to you. Harriet told me that the free-traders of M
arcombe share their gains equally and since I know you’re the leader, that must be your doing.’

  ‘It’s only fair. We all need to eat,’ Jago muttered.

  ‘Maybe, but it’s not how all gangs operate, is it? And as the one in charge, you could take a larger cut.’

  ‘We all risk the same, so we all profit the same. Now can we please talk about something else?’

  She took his face between her soft hands and looked into his eyes, shaking her head at him. ‘You just don’t want to admit you’re a good man, do you. But you can’t fool me.’

  ‘I wouldn’t want to, but neither do I want you to raise me to sainthood. I’m not perfect, Eliza, and never will be.’

  ‘You are to me, and that’s all that counts.’

  Kayla awoke heavy-eyed and with a dull headache throbbing behind her eyelids. Yawning, she looked over towards the window and realised that the wind and rain had finally stopped. All was blessedly quiet, at least outside.

  A floorboard creaked and Kayla turned in the direction of the door. The room was still in semi-darkness and her bleary eyes couldn’t make out any movement. She groped around on the night table for her watch. It was barely seven in the morning. She yawned again and stretched before rolling into a tight ball under the thick duvet. A further snooze was definitely called for.

  She had gone to bed quite early since Sir Wesley needed to continue with his work, but despite her tiredness, she’d been unable to sleep. The thought that someone might have died in this very bed recently made her uneasy, and she jumped at every little sound. As the house was old, it was never quiet and there seemed to be constant movement in the joists and floorboards, which made little grating noises and creaks. These kept Kayla awake, even though she knew what they were. It must have been well past midnight by the time she finally fell asleep, only to dream of ghostly apparitions popping out of huge silver-covered dishes carried by a grinning Annie. She sighed.

  ‘So you’re finally awake.’

  Kayla sat bolt upright with a gasp, clutching the covers to her chest, convinced the former owner of the bed had returned to reclaim it. However, she soon saw that the voice had come from a small face which was now peering at her from around the bed hangings. It belonged to a skinny little girl with dark hair who looked to be about seven or eight years old.

  ‘God, you scared the life out of me! Who are you?’ Kayla’s heart settled into its normal rhythm and her breathing became slightly more even.

  ‘I’m Eleanor, but everyone calls me Nell.’ The smile which accompanied this statement was disarming and Kayla didn’t have the heart to scold the little girl. She obviously hadn’t meant any harm. ‘I’m glad you’re awake. I’ve been waiting for ages and ages and Annie said I wasn’t allowed to wake you up, so I tried to be really quiet.’

  Kayla smiled. ‘Yes, well, I’m definitely awake now.’ And not likely to go back to sleep with you around, she could have added. She patted the bed next to her invitingly and said, ‘Why don’t you come and sit here and tell me why you wanted to see me?’

  Nell hopped onto the bed, bouncing up and down a few extra times for good measure. ‘I told you, I was waiting for you ’cause I wanted to talk to you.’

  ‘Oh, why? Did someone ask you to?’

  ‘No, I was just curious. Annie told me Daddy had a guest and I wanted to see what you looked like. I wasn’t here when you came yesterday.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I was at a sleepover at my friend Olivia’s, but I didn’t like it so her mummy called Daddy in the middle of the night and he came and fetched me.’ Nell made a face. ‘Olivia was being horrid.’

  ‘Oh dear. How nice of your dad to come and get you so late. And in torrential rain too! Good thing he has a Land Rover.’

  ‘Yes, he’s the best.’ Nell peered at Kayla again. ‘We don’t have many guests. Are you going to stay? And what’s your name?’

  ‘My name is Kayla and I’m not going to stay for very long. I’ve just come to look at some of your dad’s paintings. I take it Sir Wesley is your dad?’ She remembered the entry in Debrett’s now which had said Sir Wesley had ‘issue’, a daughter. It had slipped her mind the night before.

  ‘Yes. I look like him, don’t you think? I have dark hair and blue eyes just like him Annie says.’ Nell fluffed up her hair in imitation of a grown-up woman and opened her eyes wide for inspection.

  Kayla laughed. ‘I’m sure you do. It’s just that the light in here isn’t very good, so it was hard for me to see you properly.’

  ‘Oh, I can fix that.’ Nell jumped off the bed and before Kayla could protest the girl had pulled the heavy drapes open to let in the bright morning light. Kayla winced and blinked, trying to accustom herself to the glare. ‘There, is that better?’ the little girl asked cheerfully.

  ‘Yes, er, thank you, just wonderful. So, tell me, how old are you, Nell?’

  ‘I’m going to be eight in the summer. Daddy says that’s very old and he can’t believe it. I’ve already asked for a new bicycle for my birthday and maybe a Barbie house and a PlayStation, but I’m going to write a list soon so Daddy doesn’t forget.’

  ‘Is that all?’ It seemed like quite an expensive list to Kayla and she wondered if Sir Wesley was really that indulgent a father, but she decided not to comment. It was none of her business, after all. ‘So you’re going to be eight, are you? Then, don’t you have to get ready for school soon?’

  Nell giggled. ‘No, silly, it’s the Easter holidays. I don’t have to go back till next week.’

  ‘Oh, I see,’ Kayla managed faintly. ‘Well, perhaps it’s time I got up then and had a shower. Shall I see you later for breakfast?’

  ‘Of course, but don’t you want to come swimming first? Daddy says you should always swim before breakfast. It’s good for you and makes you strong.’

  Nell was now jumping up and down on one leg, unable to contain her energy it seemed. She followed the flowery pattern around the edge of the large carpet, hopping from bloom to bloom, switching legs occasionally.

  ‘Swimming? In this weather? Surely the sea is still a bit too cold?’

  Nell laughed uproariously and clutched her small tummy. ‘No, no, not in the sea,’ she gasped. ‘I like you, you’re funny, Kayla. I meant go swimming in the pool, of course, silly.’

  Kayla reflected that ‘silly’ was obviously the word of the day. And she did feel rather silly, truth be told. She should have guessed a house this size would have facilities like that. She shook her head. ‘Oh, of course. No, I’m afraid I can’t, I didn’t bring a swimsuit. I wasn’t planning on staying anywhere where there was a pool. You go on though, I’ll see you later.’

  Nell didn’t give up easily though. ‘I’ll get you one, you can borrow Mummy’s old one.’ And without waiting for an answer she sprinted to the door and left at a run, slamming it shut behind her. Kayla sank back under the cover. Good Lord, what a way to start the day.

  Less than five minutes later Nell clattered into the room, triumphantly swinging a neon pink one-piece bathing suit in a circle over her head. ‘See, I told you. Isn’t this pretty? I’m going to buy one this colour next time. I love pink.’

  Kayla, who had by this time resigned herself to her fate, regarded the brash colour with raised brows, but managed to lie convincingly. ‘Yes, lovely.’

  Wearing the bathing costume, which fit surprisingly well, and swathed in a thick white towelling robe with a towel tied round her waist for good measure, Kayla followed her tiny hostess down the back stairs to the basement level. Here they found double glass doors leading into a large structure that was partly under the ground floor of the house and partly sticking out into the garden in the form of a conservatory. Kayla gathered the house must have been built on a slope so that the front of the building was higher up the hill than the back.

  Inside, there was a long, narrow pool with shallow steps at one end, and the room was much warmer than the rest of the house. Dotted around the perimeter of the pool were huge tropica
l plants in blue and white china pots, and at the bottom there was a mosaic in the shape of an indigo-coloured dolphin.

  ‘I’m just going to put on my cozzie,’ Nell announced and dashed off again into a small changing cubicle to the right. Kayla took off the bathrobe and towel and dangled her feet in the water. It was lovely and warm.

  A huge splash made her shriek as she was drenched from head to toe, but she laughed and then jumped in quickly to catch the culprit. ‘I’ll get you for that, you little minx, just you wait.’

  Nell screamed in delight as Kayla chased her, failing on purpose to catch the girl at the last minute. They both ended up on the shallow steps laughing and gasping for air.

  ‘You’re a very good swimmer, Nell.’

  ‘I know. My daddy taught me when I was a baby. He just threw me in and I could swim already, he said.’

  ‘Really? I’ve heard of that. It was very brave of him, though, I don’t know if I could have done that with any baby of mine. What if you had sunk?’

  Nell giggled. ‘Then he would have rescued me, of course. Now it’s my turn to chase you, okay?’

  ‘All right, but I don’t think you can catch me, I’m too fast.’

  More laughter followed as Kayla let herself be caught time and again. She was just beginning to wonder if the little girl would ever tire of the game, when there was an even bigger splash next to them and they were joined by Sir Wesley.

  ‘What on earth is all this noise down here?’ He laughed and threw Nell high into the air. He caught her just before she landed in the water again and swung her around. ‘I thought the house was falling down.’

  ‘No, Daddy, Kayla and I were just playing.’