“Yes, I can see compassion and intelligence in her eyes.”
“If Nathaniel thinks I’m like her in some way, I must endeavor to live up to her.”
“Darling girl.” Dora put her arm around Laura’s shoulders and gave her a hug. “You already have.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
After the fresh, clear skies of Cornwall, London had lost a good deal of its charm for Laura. The dirty streets were crowded with coal smoke and yellow fog fouling the air.
She had chosen to stay with Dora rather than come under her mother’s scrutiny again, but that proved a mistake. Dora’s small townhouse was inundated with visitors. They crowded into her rooms and talked about nothing other than literature and art. Normally, Laura would have been delighted, and she wondered what had gotten into her. It was not like her to seek the peace of her bedroom when stimulating conversation was on offer. Her patience had worn thin as she waited for word from Nathaniel. She was tired and still not fully recovered from the chill. She yearned to go home to where she could hear the birds and see straight to the horizon with the smell of the briny sea on the wind. She decided not to wait much longer. If she hadn’t heard from him, she would leave within a few days.
When the last of a group of enthusiasts left, Laura suggested she and her aunt take the air. There’d been a thunderstorm earlier, but the rain had since stopped. They left the house intent on visiting the British Museum. Gray clouds still hovered low over the rooftops when they emerged from Tottenham Court Road Tube Station and hurried down Great Russell Street. When it began to rain again, they stopped to put up their umbrellas. An omnibus raced by, sending a wave of water onto the pavement and drowning Laura’s boots. Annoyed, she lowered her umbrella and bent down to inspect them.
“I say, do be careful with that thing.”
From beneath the ruffled fringe of her umbrella, Laura saw a pair of male legs dressed in brown tweed.
“I am sorry,” she said, raising her umbrella over her head.
“Laura?” Behind his glasses, Howard Farmer, her friend from university, stood before her. His hazel eyes crinkled at the corners. He removed his hat, and she noted how prosperous he’d become, his clothes good quality, his muttonchops trimmed. “How good to see you again, Laura. Lady Lanyon,” he said with a bow. “I beg your pardon.”
“It’s Laura, please. It is good to see you again.”
He eyed her carefully. “How are you?”
“In good health, thank you. Do you still attend women’s suffrage meetings?”
“But of course.”
“I would love to hear of the latest developments.”
Howard was a pacifist, who believed in the rights of men and women to vote. He’d taken part in a rally alongside her and the other women from the university.
“You remember meeting the suffragist, Millicent Fawcett? She has cut ties with the Pankhurst sisters, as she believes their militant behavior will set women’s right to vote back for years. Millicent plans to sail to South Africa with other women to inspect the horrendous concentration camps where the Boer soldiers have been interned. She sees that as giving women responsibility in wartime and a revival of interest in women’s suffrage.”
“I’m inclined to agree with her.” Laura remembered their heated arguments about the war. “And I’m glad to see you haven’t joined the army. I confess to having lost some of my imperialistic zeal.”
He shook his head. “I had a change of heart and tried to enlist but was rejected on medical grounds.”
“I hope it’s nothing serious?”
He smiled, pushing back the spectacles on his nose with a finger. “Poor eyesight.”
“How brave of you to try.” She was pleased he was doing well.
A noisy humph drew Laura’s attention to her neglected relative. In her desire for knowledge, she’d quite forgotten her. “Oh, how remiss of me. You must meet my aunt, Miss Lawley. Dora, I’d like to introduce Professor Farmer.”
“Delighted.” Howard shook Dora’s hand, as Laura explained how they knew one another.
“Howard is now a lecturer at the London University,” Laura added.
“What do you teach, Professor Farmer?” Dora asked.
“The Classics.”
Laura sighed inwardly as Dora’s eyes brightened. “You must come to my Thursday soirée. I promise you will meet some interesting people, Professor.”
Howard raised a sandy eyebrow and met Laura’s gaze. He was waiting for her to sanction it. “Yes, please do come,” she said. She could hardly say otherwise.
The rain grew heavier. Dora gave him her address, and they said hasty goodbyes. Howard strode off in the opposite direction, while Laura and her aunt approached the steps leading to the museum.
Laura shook her umbrella in the foyer. The last time she’d seen Howard was the day he’d come to her home to play tennis. She’d been embarrassed when her parents made their disapproval of him evident. “I would prefer him not to come.”
“I don’t see why. He’s an interesting man. You must have a lot in common.”
“We did, once.”
Laura had to admit she would like to learn more about his new position. As long as he didn’t ask too many questions about her.
On Thursday, guests packed into Dora’s rooms for her soirée. The parlor was filled with the mingled odors of wet woolens, human sweat, coal fire and pipe smoke.
Conversation became a dull roar in Laura’s ears and her head spun. “Heavens.” She put a hand to her forehead. “Whatever is the matter with me?”
The maid opened the door to yet another visitor. As Howard Farmer walked into the room, his gaze settled on Laura. He nodded to her with a smile and made his way over to greet Dora.
Moments later, looking concerned, he came to where Laura stood, her hand on the back of a chair. “You look very pale. Are you well, Laura?”
Laura smiled wanly. “It’s a bit airless in here.” Black spots danced before her eyes. “I’m afraid…” she murmured, as darkness closed over her.
When she opened her eyes, she was in Howard’s arms, the rough wool of his coat against her cheek.
Dora tutted behind them as he carried her into the front hall. “You need fresh air.”
“Please put me down.”
Howard set her on her feet but still held her, his arm around her waist to support her as she tried to gain her balance.
The maid rushed to answer the doorbell. On the doorstep, Nathaniel looked up from removing his gloves. Within the confines of Howard’s arms, Laura gazed into her husband’s eyes, which were as cold as the granite walls of Wolfram.
***
Laura moved her head restlessly on the pillow. Across from her, too far away for comfort, Nathaniel sprawled in a chair. His eyes were no longer like stone; they now held a dangerous light. “Dora told me you’ve been ill.”
She smiled, her pulse beating fast at the sight of him. “I was faint earlier, but I’m much recovered. Just a slight headache.”
“Then you can tell me who that man is who so thoughtfully assisted you.”
“Dora invited How…Professor Farmer.” She rubbed her brow. “We ran into him on the way to the museum—”
“He is an acquaintance of yours?” Nathaniel’s voice was icily polite.
“We met at Cambridge. He wasn’t a professor then.”
He gave her a dark look. “You’ve met him socially since?”
Laura chewed her lip. “Only once. We played tennis at my home. Before I met you.”
His dark eyebrows rose. “That is all?”
Although never alone, she and Howard had spent a lot of time together at Cambridge. She wasn’t about to add fuel to a smoldering fire and held out her arms. “I don’t believe you’ve kissed me.”
Nathaniel still frowned but rubbed a finger over his bottom lip. Did she detect a slight lessening of his resistance?
“Has this man ever kissed you?”
“What a question.” Laura rememb
ered Howard’s defiant goodbye kiss in the breakfast room at Grisewood Hall before he left to catch the train. To admit it now would be disastrous. “Don’t you trust me?”
Thankfully, Nathaniel didn’t pursue the question of a kiss. “You’ve not seen him again until now?”
“Only the time he climbed into my window at Wolfram and ravished me. Really, Nathaniel.” Laura twitched a fold of her skirt to cover her legs. The sight of him always made her breath catch. Her gaze wandered over him, admiring the way the light from the window shone on his thick, coal-black hair. “Please, darling, you’re making my headache worse.” Not feeling up to a dramatic scene, relief threaded through her when he rose and came to the bed. He held himself away from her, longing in his eyes.
“I’ve missed you.” His voice sounded strained.
Laura understood that was a huge concession for him to make. She was reminded of the young boy who had suffered the loss of his mother at a tender age. Visualizing him, long legs like a young colt, his mother dead and his father vengeful and grief-stricken, filled her with love and compassion and a need to have his arms around her.
“I have missed you too, darling. Every minute.”
She coiled her arms around his neck and drew his lips down to hers, delighting in his closeness, his familiar smell, his masculine strength. “Have you come to take me home?” she asked breathlessly when he drew away.
“Yes.” He held her chin in his hand, his concerned gaze roaming her face, a slight frown on his brow. “You look tired, Laura. What has made you faint?”
“I caught a chill at Gateley Park, but I’m fine now. I can’t wait to go back to Cornwall.”
A warmer light sparked in his eyes. “You have missed Wolfram?”
“Most dreadfully. It’s my home. But not as much as I’ve missed you.”
He bent and kissed her again, a scorching kiss that made her body hot with yearning.
Nathaniel lay down beside her and pulled her against him, his hand sliding down over her bottom.
“Nathaniel!” Laura flicked an anxious glance at the door. “Dora’s bedroom is next door. The house is full of guests; anyone might come in.”
He rolled her over on top of him and murmured into the hollow of her shoulder. “Dora has too much sense. Just let me hold you.” He kissed the tender spot on her throat below her ear. “I want you so much.”
“I want you too,” she whispered, filled with a burning need for him. It had been a torturously long time without him. But voices erupted out in the hall, and there was no key in the lock. Nathaniel’s hand slipped under her skirt and stroked her leg. She’d almost reached the point where she would throw caution to the wind. Her skin tingled at his touch. She gasped when she felt him hard against her thigh.
He took her mouth again, deepening the kiss until they both gasped. She pulled away with an eye on the door. “Nathaniel—”
“Hush. Or someone may well come in.”
Laura giggled. “We can’t—”
Nathaniel reached under her dress and eased down her bloomers. With another quick glance at the door, she slipped out of them.
Tucking her underwear beneath the pillow, he rolled off the bed and held out his hand to her. “Come here.”
Laura stood. “Where on earth…?”
He led her to an upholstered chair set in an alcove. Sitting down, he gathered up her skirts and pulled her onto his lap. In the long mirror hanging on the opposite wall, from the waist up they looked like a marriage portrait of a well-dressed couple. She held her breath as he guided himself inside her.
“Oh, yes, darling, yes…” She put her hand to her mouth to quiet herself as his hands cradled her bottom beneath her gown and moved her against him. He groaned softly, his lips against her neck as he thrust into her. Their panting breaths filled the room.
“You don’t want that Farmer chap, do you?” he demanded fiercely.
“No! I chose you,” Laura gasped, as her body clenched, and heat radiated to her aching nipples. She teetered on the edge of glorious oblivion. “Because I love you, Nathaniel. I think I did from the day I met you.”
“Is that true?” He sounded incredulous.
She moaned softly. “Why would you doubt it?”
Laura was lost as his hands on her brought her to climax. Nathaniel held her tight against him and groaned.
As their breathing slowed, she turned within his arms to look into his face. His dark eyelashes masked his expression. Would the wall come down between them again?
Dora’s voice sounded on the staircase. Laura jumped off his lap. “I want to know what’s been happening while I’ve been away. Everything!”
Nathaniel rose too. He smoothed back his hair and straightened his clothes. “I will tell you. But later, sweetheart. Order the maid to pack your things. I’ll wait downstairs.”
As Nathaniel closed the door behind him, Laura touched her burning face and marveled at his audacity, as she hurried to retrieve her bloomers. He was such an exciting, unpredictable man. She peered into the mirror at her flushed face. Her headache had gone. He had not said he loved her, but he had missed her. And when he looked at her as if nothing in the world could satisfy him but her, she knew she must do as Dora’s Tarot had suggested and be patient.
When she came downstairs, Howard sprang up from a chair by the door. “Laura! I was concerned. Are you all right?”
Aware that Nathaniel must be talking to Dora, Laura took Howard’s outstretched hand in her gloved one. “I am, and I apologize for such dramatics, Howard. Thank you for assisting me.”
Howard searched her face. “You are happy in your new life?”
“What business is it of yours whether my wife is happy or not?” Nathaniel stood at the sitting room door, eyes narrowed. “Release her hand.” He took a step forward.
Nathaniel looked like a dangerous animal ready to spring. Alarmed, Laura pulled her hand from Howard’s.
“I beg your pardon, my lord,” Howard said stiffly. “But Lady Lanyon and I have been good friends for some years.”
“I will answer the question,” Laura said in a calm tone. “I am very happy, Howard, and I apologize for alarming you.”
The look of fury on her husband’s face was unreasonable. She would have been angry had she not understood what caused his irrational jealousy. How many years would it take before he could trust her completely?
Howard took his hat and coat from the maid. He nodded to Laura and ignored Nathaniel. “I trust that is so.”
“It was good to see you again, Howard,” Laura said. “Congratulations on your new appointment.”
“Thank you, Laura. Good day to you both.”
After the door closed behind Howard, Laura placed a hand on Nathaniel’s chest. His heart pounded beneath her palm. “You must learn to trust me. If you don’t, our life together will suffer.”
He raised her chin to look deep into her eyes. “Then don’t throw suitors like Howard Farmer in my way.”
“I didn’t plan to. I told you, Aunt Dora invited him.”
“Very well, let that be the end of it.” He nodded, but his seeming indifference didn’t fool her.
“As mine and Howard’s paths are unlikely to cross again, it will be.”
Laura waved from the carriage window at Dora, who saw them off after promising to visit them soon. On the way to Wimbledon, Laura turned to him, unable to suppress the impatience in her voice. “Now tell me what has happened while I’ve been away.”
“We had a violent storm. Raged for days. Cut the phone lines, so I didn’t get your telegram for some days. It was necessary to rescue the crew of a ship that foundered on the rocks. A three-masted vessel—”
“I’ve seen that ship,” Laura interrupted. “It sailed around the point on the day I rode to the cove. Theo Mallory was there.”
Nathaniel stared at her. “You didn’t tell me you met Mallory on that day.”
Laura had purposely not told him, knowing he would gaze at her in the way he di
d now. “I thought Hugh would have told you. He had followed me.” She raised her eyebrows. “On your orders, I believe?”
Nathaniel’s mouth firmed. “Tell me exactly what happened.”
Laura described how Mallory had emerged from behind a rocky outcrop.
“Did he make advances to you?”
“Don’t you think I would have told you if he had?”
Nathaniel’s eyes narrowed. “Go on.”
Laura sighed. “He’d left when I saw the ship. It came from the same direction as he did, sailing quite close to shore. Do you think Mallory might have been—?”
“What did you talk about?”
“Nothing of note.” She was not about to repeat Mallory’s nasty accusation, and sought to distract him. “We spoke for a moment and then he left, and I rode back to Wolfram with Hugh. After I watched a seal…I haven’t told you about the seal! But that is for later. I want to hear more about the ship.”
He smiled. Our fishing boat reached the ship as it began to break up on the rocks.”
“You went out in the storm?” Laura cried, horrified.
“Hush. We found the crew loading boxes into a rowing boat. The rest of the cargo floated on the waves, some of which washed up on shore. We were lucky to get the men safely on board the boat with few casualties. When we later examined their cargo, it matched that we found stored in an empty cottage. With a bit of persuasion, the men talked. The under groom from Wolfram, Throsby, and two men who helped bring the contraband in from across the Channel have been jailed.”
“Is the ship still on the rocks?”
Nathaniel shook his head. “It sank to the bottom minutes afterward.”
She eyed him. He was not telling her the entire story. She shivered and held his hand to her cheek. Unnerved, she remembered Dora’s Tarot reading. “I’m glad I didn’t know about it.”
“I told you, sweetheart,” Nathaniel laughed. “I know those waters.”
She shook her head. “The poets put it perfectly: man is weak against the might of nature.”
He kissed her cheek. “Perhaps your mother is right about you reading too much. It was a storm. And as you see, I’m here to tell the tale.”
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