The Secret Kiss of Darkness

by Christina Courtenay

‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘Great, thank you. I’ll leave you to it then. See you at lunchtime.’

  Just to make doubly sure, Kayla walked around the long gallery and checked each portrait in turn in case the one of Eliza had been overlooked and the Gainsborough signature lost. Most of them had the names of the ladies inscribed on the frame or in a corner, and there were no Elizabeth’s that she could see. Of the ones that were unnamed, not a single one looked anything like the painting Jago had described. In fact, they weren’t very lifelike at all and Kayla didn’t have that eerie feeling of being watched. None of the ladies were particularly beautiful, either, and Kayla remembered distinctly that Jago had said Eliza was lovely. Although, come to think of it, ideals of beauty were quite different in those days compared to those of the present time.

  Jago’s father was easy to spot, however, as the frame around his portrait had a huge brass plaque with ‘Sir Philip Marcombe’ and his dates. Kayla studied him for quite a while, but could see nothing of Jago in him at all apart from the eye colour, as he’d said. She concluded that Jago must resemble his Gypsy mother. Her theory about him planting a cuckoo in the Marcombe nest seemed very likely in the light of this, but she would have to ask him.

  Kayla sat staring at the Gainsborough seascapes for a long time lost in thought. Her life had certainly changed considerably since Jago entered it. Was it really only a few weeks ago? He had turned everything upside down – her job, her marriage plans, even the way she acted. Three weeks ago she would never have considered lying to anyone deliberately, and yet here she was, pretending to be an art student when she couldn’t draw to save her life. She shook her head.

  ‘Oh, Jago, why did you have to pick me of all people? Surely there were other impressionable females at the auction rooms? You could have messed up their lives instead and left mine alone. I was quite happy the way I was.’

  But the irritating little voice inside her head sniped, ‘Were you really? Then how come you never once considered apologising to Mike to make up after your little row? Was it perhaps because you wanted a way out? Had you already regretted your decision to marry him?’

  ‘Oh, shut up,’ she muttered. It was all too much and she was too tired to deal with it right now. One thing at a time.

  Wes tried to concentrate on his work, but somehow just knowing Kayla was somewhere in the house unsettled him. While they were looking at the paintings, he’d had a hard time not staring at her instead, and each time she’d turned those big moss-green eyes on him, he’d been mesmerised.

  ‘This is ridiculous,’ he muttered. ‘She’s a pretty girl, but too young for you.’ An art student, for heaven’s sake – she couldn’t be more than nineteen or twenty and he was almost thirty-six. ‘Get over it.’ But time and again he found himself sitting staring out of the window instead of concentrating.

  When Annie brought him some coffee and biscuits, he jumped a mile.

  ‘Away with the fairies, were you?’ Annie chuckled.

  ‘Yes, didn’t hear you come in,’ Wes admitted.

  ‘Finished showing our guest round then, have you?’

  Wes felt as if Annie’s knowing eyes saw way too much, but he managed to feign nonchalance. ‘Yes, I left her to it. I’m not really into paintings, as you know.’ He suddenly remembered the news he’d had earlier. ‘Oh, by the way, Kayla will be staying at least another night. Ben rang to say the roads are flooded and he doesn’t think her little car would get through. I told her and she didn’t seem to mind too much.’

  ‘And do you?’ Annie asked.

  Wes frowned. ‘Do I what?’

  ‘Mind her staying?’

  There was amusement lurking in Annie’s eyes and Wes wanted to tell the woman to mind her own business. At the same time he was aware that she was a treasure he couldn’t do without, so he tried to answer her calmly. ‘No, of course not. As I said to her, this house is big enough and one more night is neither here nor there.’

  ‘Indeed. Well, I’d best see about some lunch then.’ Annie turned away, but not before Wes had seen her hide a smile.

  Damn it all! Am I that transparent? He hated the thought that he might be and very much hoped his guest wasn’t able to read him as easily as his housekeeper seemed to.

  Chapter Fifteen

  ‘Dear Lord, but he’s as pleased as punch. Ye’d think he was the first man ever to have sired a child, so ye would!’

  ‘Who?’ Jago had been lost in thought, wiping tankards without really paying attention to what he was doing, but the words of Matty, the serving wench, brought him back down to earth.

  ‘Why, his lordship, of course. Who else?’

  Jago frowned. ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘My aunt told me. Works in the kitchens up at the hall, she does, and always brings uz the gossip of an evenin’.’ Matty smirked. ‘I hear a thing or two, I can tell ye.’

  ‘So Lady Marcombe is expecting then?’ Jago deemed it safest to pretend ignorance. It was women’s matters after all. No one would expect him to have any interest in such things.

  ‘Mr Kerswell, have ye not been listenin’ to a word I’ve said these past weeks?’

  ‘Not really, no.’ He gave her a rueful smile. ‘You do chatter a lot you know, so I don’t pay much attention.’

  ‘Well, honestly.’ She put her hands on her hips, which only made her look like a belligerent bullfinch, since she was as short as she was round. ‘But yes, her ladyship’s gettin’ big with child and Sir John is walkin’ around preenin’ ’eself, as if it were all thanks to him.’

  ‘Isn’t it?’ Jago teased.

  Matty sent him a scowling look. ‘Ye know as well as I do, Mr Kerswell, there’d be no babes wi’out uz women.’

  He chuckled. ‘I know, I know. But you couldn’t do it without us either.’ When Matty’s fierce look deepened, he held up his hands in surrender. ‘Either way, I wish the man well and hope her ladyship has a safe delivery.’

  Of my child. But he didn’t add that out loud.

  And if Sir John was so pleased with the pregnancy, he could only pray the man never found out the truth. Jago was worried enough about Eliza without adding that to the equation.

  His dark thoughts were interrupted by the entrance into the inn of a pale man in a threadbare coat. Jago smiled a greeting. ‘Reuben, how are you? Feeling better? It’s good to see you on your feet again.’

  ‘Aye, but I’m still as weak as a kitten. It’s makin’ it hard fer me to find work.’ Reuben coughed, his expression bleak as he battled to regain his breathing.

  Jago nodded. ‘Yes, that’s understandable.’ Reuben had been laid low with a chest infection and since he had a wife and five children to feed, going without income for any length of time was a potential disaster. ‘But don’t fret, I have your share of our latest “venture”. Just hold on a moment.’

  ‘But Mr Kerswell, sir …’

  Jago pretended not to hear Reuben, and soon after he was back with a leather pouch hidden in his closed fist. He made sure the inn was still empty of customers, then passed the pouch to Reuben. ‘There you are. Hopefully that should tide you all over.’

  Reuben looked troubled and shook his head. ‘It’s not right, Mr Kerswell. I wasn’t able to come on the … er, venture, so I’m not due any payment. If you could see your way to lendin’ it to me though? I’ll do my best to pay it back next time.’

  ‘Nonsense. You’re part of the gang and we look after our own. I know you’ll do your share when you can. Just take it. You’ve earned it.’ Jago tried to sound firm so Reuben wouldn’t argue with him. He didn’t want the man feeling he was being given charity, even though he was as Jago was in fact giving him his own share. He’d rather Reuben didn’t find that out though, nor anyone else. It wouldn’t do to be seen as soft or others might take advantage of him.

  The man hesitated for a moment, then nodded, sense obviously winning out over pride. ‘Thank ye. Ye’re a good man an’ I won’t forget.’

  When the door had
shut behind him, Jago heard a sniffle behind him and turned to find Matty wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. ‘What’s the matter with you?’ He frowned at her, but she just shook her head at him and gave him a watery smile.

  ‘Reuben’s right. Ye are a good man and the good Lord’ll reward ye.’

  Jago wasn’t at all sure about that, but then Matty didn’t know the half of it.

  In the event, Kayla didn’t encounter Wes until the evening meal. Instead she spent the afternoon trying to play a game with Nell on an old-fashioned Nintendo console. It was some sort of race where they each had a hand-held device to control the actions of a little figure who was driving a car on the screen. It proved surprisingly difficult, at least for Kayla who had never tried this particular game before.

  During dinner, the little girl wasted no time in informing her father of their guest’s lack of skill. ‘Honestly, Daddy, Kayla came off the track every single time. Didn’t you, Kayla?’

  ‘Yes, I’m afraid that’s true,’ Kayla admitted. ‘But you’ve had a lot more practice than me, you know. Just you wait until I get better at it, then I’ll beat you for sure.’

  ‘You’re supposed to let guests win, Nell. Didn’t I teach you that?’ Wes winked at his daughter.

  ‘Yes, but it was impossible. Even when I tried to lose, Kayla crashed before I had hardly got started.’

  ‘Like I said, just you wait,’ Kayla narrowed her eyes at Nell in mock fierceness. ‘I’ll practise while you’re asleep and I’ll become an expert in no time, see if I don’t.’

  Nell just laughed. ‘No way.’

  ‘You have a lovely daughter,’ Kayla told Wes after Nell, yawning hugely, had been led to her bed by Annie.

  ‘Thank you. I think she’s wonderful, but then I suppose most parents do.’ Wes sipped his glass of wine and gazed into the distance. ‘I take it Annie told you about my ex-wife, Caroline?’

  ‘Only that you were divorced and Nell lives here with you.’ Kayla squirmed slightly in her seat, feeling uncomfortable with this topic of conversation. She didn’t want him to think she’d been gossiping about him, especially since she’d only been here a day.

  ‘Yes, it was a shame, but these things happen. Caro had … some problems. Depression, that sort of thing. She became addicted to some of her medication, which makes her unpredictable and restless. She travels a lot in search of … well, I’m not sure what, to be honest. Whatever it is she wants out of life? She didn’t find it here in any case and the judge thought it would be better for Nell to stay in her normal environment, that’s why he awarded me custody. Although, of course, Caro can see her any time she wants.’

  ‘That sounds sensible. Nell seems very happy and I can see that she adores you.’

  He smiled. ‘It’s mutual. But I’m told little girls often like their fathers best because they can wrap us round their little fingers. I’m pretty sure things will be different when she reaches her teenage years.’ He sighed. ‘I do try to make up for her not having a mother, but it’s not easy. Annie helps too, of course. She’s great with her.’

  ‘Maybe you’ll remarry before Nell hits her teens,’ Kayla suggested, and was surprised to see a bleak look cross Wes’s features.

  ‘Not on your life. I’m afraid my one experience of the married state was enough to last me for a lifetime.’ Kayla stared at him, surprised by his vehemence, but he didn’t give her a chance to comment. Instead he changed the subject. ‘But tell me, which firm do you work for in London? Perhaps I’ve heard of them? Before I started to work freelance I used to do a bit of everything.’

  ‘It’s called Martin, Bicknell and Taylor.’ Kayla was on safer ground here, and the rest of the evening passed uneventfully.

  The floorboards creaked and Kayla opened a sleepy eye, expecting to find Nell sneaking around again. Did the kid get up at the crack of dawn every day, she wondered?

  The room was in complete darkness this time, however, and Kayla couldn’t distinguish anything. She raised herself up on her elbows to peer into the gloom.

  ‘Who’s there?’ Nothing moved, but Kayla thought she heard a noise as if someone had drawn in a sharp breath. She sat up properly, heart thumping faster now, and leaned over to turn on the bedside light. Before her hand could reach it, someone rushed past her bed at great speed and disappeared towards the far corner of the room. There was a scraping noise and Kayla gave a little shriek of fright and almost overbalanced. Her hand knocked over an old-fashioned alarm clock, which crashed to the floor, making an awful racket. Finally she managed to catch the light switch and the room was flooded with soft light.

  Racing out of bed, Kayla stopped in the middle of the room and swivelled round, looking into every nook and cranny, but there was nobody there.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ she whispered. Had it been a ghost? Was she to be plagued with them for the rest of her life?

  ‘I don’t believe in ghosts,’ Kayla mumbled to herself, then laughed somewhat hysterically. She hadn’t believed in talking paintings either, but she did now. She groaned and put her head in her hands. Perhaps once you’d seen one ghost or spirit it opened some sort of floodgate for others to pester you. It was a scary thought, but a possibility she had to acknowledge.

  There was loud knocking and someone called out her name. Kayla said, ‘Come in,’ without thinking and looked towards the door, but to her surprise it was a piece of the panelling of the wall which opened instead to admit Wes. ‘Good grief,’ she muttered. They had interconnecting bedrooms? She hadn’t realised his room was so close.

  ‘What’s the matter? There was a noise and I heard you cry out.’ He came striding towards her, a look of concern on his face. Kayla stifled a gasp at the sight of him wearing only tracksuit bottoms, his muscular chest and well-toned stomach in full view. She had been too embarrassed to notice his physique yesterday in the pool, but she could see now that he kept himself in shape. Very good shape. He obviously didn’t spend all day, every day, behind his desk.

  ‘I, er … th-there was s-somebody in here just now,’ she stuttered, feeling her cheeks turn warm as his eyes rested briefly on her own nightdress. It hardly counted as such since it was a very old, worn and somewhat see-through T-shirt. It had once belonged to her younger brother and Kayla belatedly remembered that it proclaimed to the world in faded letters that ‘Golfers did it to a tee’. She quickly crossed her arms in front of her chest.

  ‘In here? You’re sure?’ He came to a halt in front of her and she took a step backwards as an insane desire to reach out and touch him flowed through her. She quenched it and gripped her own arms instead.

  ‘Well, yes, quite sure, but whoever it was seems to have disappeared.’ She felt idiotic now. Perhaps it had just been another stupid dream. Her imagination had certainly been working overtime lately. Damn Jago, it was all his fault.

  ‘Which way did they go?’ Wes began searching through the room methodically, and opened the door to the large wardrobe in the corner.

  ‘To where you are now, I think, but it was dark. I didn’t really see much.’

  ‘Well, there’s no one here now.’ The familiar frown had returned and he flicked through the few items of clothing still hanging inside the armoire. ‘I’ll have someone come and check the security system tomorrow. We can’t have strangers roaming about the house at night. But maybe it was just a dream?’ he added, echoing her own thoughts. Kayla felt her cheeks flame again.

  ‘Yeah, maybe or, uhm, do you have ghosts here? I mean, it’s quite an old house after all and it wouldn’t be surprising if some of your ancestors returned from time to time.’

  Wes smiled and her stomach flipped over unexpectedly. He really had the most amazing smile and it lit up his blue eyes. ‘Nope, sorry, I’m afraid there are no ghosts in this house that I know of. Don’t mean to disappoint you. I know some people find it romantic and all that, but we don’t have any headless spectres or even white ladies roaming the corridors.’

  ‘Oh, no, I don’t find it romantic. I me
an, really, I’m quite happy about that. I don’t particularly care for ghosts.’

  ‘Okay, well good.’ He came back to stand in front of her, his nearness more disturbing than she cared to admit. ‘Would you like to sleep somewhere else tonight, just in case?’ He ran a hand over his chin and she heard the slight rasping noise made by the stubble and shivered. Was there anything sexier than stubble? Trailing your fingernails through it, then the slight friction against your skin when he kissed his way down to your shoulder and …

  ‘Kayla?’

  ‘What? Oh!’ His words registered and Kayla stared at him, blinking with confusion. What was he suggesting?

  He suddenly grinned in that pirate fashion as he caught sight of the look on her face. ‘I only meant that we could swap beds if you like,’ he said, and Kayla felt herself flush an even deeper red than before as she realised her mistake. ‘Or perhaps you would prefer to share? I’d keep you safe from any passing ghost, I promise.’ He was teasing her now, she could see that. His eyes were twinkling and he crossed smoothly muscled arms in front of his chest as he waited for her answer with a look that told her he was enjoying the conversation.

  ‘Thank you, but that won’t be necessary.’ And I’m sounding impossibly prim, argh! Kayla wished she could have been the sort of woman who answered teasing with a flirtatious reply or at least a witticism. Instead she became tongue-tied and flustered. Damn.

  ‘As you wish.’ He was still grinning as he backed out of the room and returned to his own. ‘Goodnight, then. Sweet dreams.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Kayla swished back to her bed in a huff. ‘Fat chance of any sweet dreams now, you bloody pirate,’ she muttered darkly. ‘Well, don’t think you can get round me with those flashing smiles of yours. I’m not falling for them, oh, no.’ But the problem was that he probably could. His offer had been extremely tempting.

  It was a long time before she slept and, to be on the safe side, she left the light on.

  What the hell was that all about?

  Wes put his arms behind his head and stared into the darkness, feeling more alive than he’d done for a long while now. Seeing Kayla in that ridiculous T-shirt, which didn’t leave much to the imagination – more was the pity, or was it? – had left him wide awake. And horny as hell. No point not admitting it to himself. He sighed.