Lucy Lane and the Lieutenant

by Helen Dickson

  Momentarily surprised and curious as to who this visitor could be to call on her at this time of night, Lucy stared at the closed parlour door.

  On the point of leaving, Jack came to stand beside her. ‘I think I’d better stay.’

  Lucy started to speak, but before she could do so, the parlour door was flung open and a man strode out. He was so tall that the top of his head nearly grazed the door frame under which he instinctively ducked. He wore a black military-style coat with brass buttons and a white linen shirt and neckcloth. His narrow hips and muscular thighs were encased in black breeches and his gleaming black boots came to his knees. His unfashionably long hair was drawn back to the nape and secured. It was as black as his coat. His eyes were as cold as Antarctic ice floes, and gave his face with its high planed cheekbones a harsh expression. His mouth was wide and full, the lower lip with that cruel curve she remembered. A thin scar ran down his left cheek in a tanned face harder than iron and a gaze that could only be described as impudent. The scar only served to add a touch of glamour to the nobility of his perfect features.

  Lucy caught her breath in her throat and for a moment the world seemed to stand on its end. Although she had not set eyes on this man for four years, she recognised at once that proud and arrogant form. There could be no mistake.

  It was Nathan Rochefort, the man whom she had almost married four years ago, the man she loved—had loved—with all her heart and soul, and now he was the man she most hated in all the world.

  The blood drained from her face as she stared at him, unable to comprehend that he was here, in her house. Her heart pounded and her knees grew weak. She steadied herself, willed herself to hold the hysterics at bay. She was paralysed, unable to speak for the moment. The reality didn’t frighten her at all. She was shaken, yes, alarmed, too, and she was mad as hell, but she wasn’t at all frightened as she stared at Nathan. She drew air in her lungs and calmed her trembling body, eyeing him surreptitiously.

  There was a health and vitality about him that was almost mesmerising. In all, he was even more handsome than she remembered. It unnerved her, especially when those thoroughly light blue eyes locked on her and slowly raked her. She had forgotten how brilliant and clear they were. In some magical way they seemed capable of stripping the deceit from whatever had passed between them before. It was all she could do to face his unspoken challenge and not order him out of her house.

  In that moment the locked chamber in her mind burst wide open against her will and the memories came flooding back, bringing with them all the pain and anguish she had suffered four years ago. As she looked at him, at his fine strong body, she could almost feel again his hands cupping her breasts and a mouth, hot and sweet, caressing the softness of them, kisses bruising her lips and searing down the length of her throat, strong arms crushing her against a hard body, and the bold thrust of this man between her thighs. She blushed profusely at her own musings and immediately banished the memory, stiffening her spine as she recollected herself.

  After a courtship of considerable length and a date set for their wedding, without warning to anyone, overwhelmed with anger, humiliation and a deep sense of betrayal when she had discovered his affair with her closest friend, Lucy had broken off their engagement and disappeared from his life.

  And now here he was, as large as life, about to insinuate himself into her world once more.

  ‘I would appreciate a moment of your time,’ he said in low, clipped tones.

  ‘Indeed! You have no right to come to my home unannounced,’ Lucy said coldly.

  ‘That is a social nicety I chose to waive. The nature of my visit cannot wait.’ His glance flicked to Jack, who was unable to conceal his astonishment. ‘Please excuse us. What I have to discuss with Miss Lane is of the utmost importance.’ Without more ado he strode to the door which led on to the street and held it open.

  Jack looked at Lucy. ‘What the devil is this about, Lucy,’ he demanded. ‘Who is this fellow? I’m damned if I’ll leave you alone with him.’

  Lucy knew she had to reassure Jack. He clearly feared for her. What did he expect? What did she expect? ‘It’s all right, Jack. Please don’t worry. This gentleman means me no harm.’

  ‘You know this man?’

  ‘Yes. This is...’ She faltered, not knowing how he should be addressed after all this time.

  ‘Lieutenant Colonel Nathan Rochefort,’ he provided sharply.

  His voice had the same rich timbre and Lucy began to wonder if he had any flaw she could touch upon and draw some strength from. ‘Lieutenant Colonel Rochefort and I are acquainted. Don’t worry. Please go, Jack. I’ll speak to you tomorrow at the theatre.’

  ‘Very well.’ His voice sounded mulish. Turning, he strode in the direction of the stern-looking stranger holding the door open with an impatience that he was clearly finding hard to control. Jack paused, looking into a face a foot above his own. ‘If you touch her, I’ll...’

  ‘You’ll what?’ Nathan’s lips curled with mild contempt. ‘Goodnight.’ Without more ado he closed the door almost before Jack had time to pass through.

  ‘You must also leave,’ Lucy said, her tone brisk.

  Nathan’s eyes slid towards her and trapped her in their burning gaze. ‘Not yet. We have to talk—if you please—’

  ‘I do not please,’ Lucy cut him short disdainfully. ‘If you have anything to say to me, you may write to my aunt Dora, who deals with most of my correspondence and engagements. She will tell you if I am able to receive you—if I want to.’

  ‘I haven’t time for that—although I do intend calling on your delightful aunt. She will not turn me away.’

  He was right. Aunt Dora had a soft spot for Nathan Rochefort—always had. He could wind her round his little finger. As handsome as he was, she could imagine that he had grown quite adept at swaying besotted women of all ages to do his bidding. He did seem to have a way about him and she could not fault any woman for falling under his spell, for she found to her amazement that her heart was not so distantly detached as she might have imagined it to be. Even his deep mellow voice seemed like a warm caress stroking over her senses.

  Shaking off the effects of what his presence was doing to her, Lucy took herself mentally in hand and reminded herself of all she had suffered at his hands. Better to remain aloof and save her pride.

  ‘You may be right. Aunt Dora is easily taken in, but my own nature is less trusting.’

  He looked at her hard. ‘Then it’s up to me to make you change your mind. We have to talk.’

  ‘We don’t have to do anything. We have nothing to talk about.’ Considering the turmoil within her, her voice was curiously calm. Her proud, disdainful green eyes met and held his without flinching. For a moment she studied this man, whom she had once loved to distraction. She had believed in him as a god, would have gladly promised to love, honour and obey him had they made it to the altar. So many things had changed after that. As a soldier, when the war with France had broken out, he had left for the Continent. She had got on with her life.

  ‘You cannot be aware of the impropriety of such a visit at this hour, or you would scarcely have ventured to knock on my door. What you have to say must be very grave indeed to justify such behaviour.’

  ‘Hospitality would not seem to be your strong point,’ he stated coldly. ‘However, what I have to say to you will take a little time—besides being a somewhat delicate matter.’

  Striding to her and taking her arm, he led her into the parlour and banged the door shut with his foot on a stupefied Polly, who remained staring at the closed door for several moments before turning away and setting her mind to tidying up after the guests.

  In the parlour, Lucy regained her composure and glared at the intruder, and when she spoke her voice was filled with barely suppressed fury. ‘I really did not think I would see you again. I confess I am as
tonished at your impudence! We have been apart four years and then you suddenly appear and demand to see me as though nothing had occurred.’

  ‘It was you who ended the relationship, not me.’

  As he spoke, Lucy sensed that he was struggling to contain his anger and decided to speak boldly. ‘Yes, I did. It was my decision.’

  ‘And like a fool I awaited your explanation—if you had one to offer—of your astounding conduct. Your explanation and your apology. It would appear that you were suddenly bereft of your senses and of the most elementary notions of respect towards me.’

  Lucy stared at him, astounded that he should turn the blame for ending their relationship on her. ‘Apology?’ she said clearly. ‘I think it is not I who should apologise.’

  He looked at her, his eyes alight with anger. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘That if anyone has been insulted, it is I! What I did was for the sake of my own dignity. I thank God that before it was too late my eyes were opened and I saw that it would be folly for us to marry. But enough of this,’ she said, having no intention of humiliating herself by raking over old coals that had long since burnt out. ‘I do not have to explain myself and I have no intention of doing so.’

  ‘I do not ask you to.’

  ‘Then why are you here? To see whether I should recognise you? To see if you were still at all like my memory of you? After four years, how would I know?’ And she didn’t know, for he was changed. Where she had known him as light-hearted with many pleasant sides to his character, she now perceived an air of seriousness about him. He displayed nothing of the easy, fun-loving man she had once known. Perhaps the hardships and tribulations of the war had stripped all humour from him.

  ‘I find you greatly altered, Lucy,’ he remarked in a matter-of-fact way. ‘Not to your advantage.’

  The brutality of his remark, his look of almost elementary politeness, did not impress Lucy in the least. He had long ago lost the power to intimidate her—even assuming he ever had. On the contrary—his rudeness helped to affirm her self-control and she permitted herself a sly smile.

  ‘I doubt you have come here to ask me to do duty for a mirror. These past years have not been easy for me, not even profitable, but I don’t see that my private affairs concern you.’

  ‘I was not referring to your looks, but to what is inside you—and no one asked you to suffer.’

  ‘No, I know that and I am still here, carrying on, doing what I like doing best. Please say what you have to say,’ Lucy said irately. ‘I have no wish to prolong this interview.’

  He smiled crookedly at her under drooping eyelids. ‘No? Surely this is a most affecting moment,’ he stated with heavy irony. ‘Two people once betrothed to each other, together again after such a long absence—especially after believing themselves parted for ever. My dear Lucy, you should be glad to be reunited with the man you loved—for you did love me, my dear. You were quite devoted to me as I recall.’

  Lucy had had enough. ‘That will do,’ she retorted sharply. ‘You are amazingly impertinent.’ She was not going to remind him how he had trampled on that innocent love in the bed of her closest friend. ‘You have the audacity to talk about what was between us as if it were merely another of those delightful escapades you men discuss over your brandy.’

  Nathan shrugged, but his eyes shifted to avoid Lucy’s sparkling gaze. ‘It was you who, for some reason, turned it into a huge tragedy. From what I understand, I was not the only one to be ostracised by you.’

  Lucy’s head came up sharply. ‘Please explain what you mean by that remark? Who are you talking about?’

  ‘Katherine.’

  The name fell on Lucy like a hammer blow. Her eyes flew to his, anger, hot and fierce, in their depths. ‘Please do not mention her name to me. I will not speak of her. If you insist on doing so, then I will order you to leave my house this instant.’

  Nathan held up both his hands, palms outward, a warning bell ringing in his mind telling him not to pursue this. But whatever it was that had gone wrong between Lucy and Katherine was raw. That was clear. Knowing this, there was need for caution.

  ‘I see you haven’t changed, Nathan. Still stuffed with the same arrogance and conceit, which I must confess were two of the attributes I most despised in you.’

  He appeared totally unfazed by her stinging barb, which angered her further. ‘Indeed? You should have told me how you felt when we were together.’

  ‘I doubt it would have made any difference.’

  ‘It might. Speaking of arrogance and conceit, I see you are closely acquainted with Lambert.’

  She glanced at him pointedly. ‘You know Jack? How?’

  He shrugged. ‘I have no interest in Lambert. He’s well connected. Unfortunately he wasn’t thought clever enough for anything except the army. After spending a couple of years in the military where he had a tendency to search out opportunities to benefit himself—where he got too comfortable with the camp-followers—the female kind, I might add,’ he said, raising a well-defined brow, ‘I doubt his habits have changed and he continues to dally here and there at his leisure. I’m sure you know the type.’

  ‘Yes, actually I’m afraid I do,’ Lucy replied, gritting out the words. It nettled her sorely that he should seek to besmirch Jack’s character when his own reputation was far from exemplary.

  ‘What do you want?’ she demanded. ‘What is the reason for this rude intrusion into my home? You have not sought me out to ask about my health or to discuss the weather.’ He seemed solemn, earnest. She stared into the frank light blue eyes and something fluttered inside her. ‘I have had a long day and I am tired and wish to go to bed, so please get on with it. Say what you have to say and make an end. What do you want?’

  He cocked a brow. ‘If I were not a gentleman, I ought to answer you. But however delectable you are, Lucy, that is not why I am here. No. For the present my wants are more practical.’ His lips curved into what could almost be described as a smile, but it did not reach his eyes. He went and sat down in a large tapestry-covered armchair that stood by the fire, stretched out his long booted legs comfortably and looked up at her.

  Lucy stood several feet away from him, her arms crossed over her breasts, visibly struggling against a growing anger which made her eyes gleam like two hard green stones. Even now, after four long years—a lifetime, it seemed—he was still the most handsome man she had ever known. There were lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth that hadn’t been there when they had been affianced and the scar was new, but she was sure he could still turn a woman’s head. Which was what had happened to her, when she had been young, naïve and vulnerable to the point of stupidity.

  ‘The reason I am here, Lucy, is because I wish to enlist your aid in a matter that is of extreme importance.’

  Containing her surprise, Lucy stared at him, raising an eyebrow, hoping it would convey her scepticism. ‘My aid? For what, may I ask? Four years ago you did not need me or my aid. Why now?’

  Getting to his feet and clasping his hands behind his back, he turned and looked back at her, watching her with a disconcerting gaze. ‘The past is behind us. For the present that is where it must remain. There is the serious business of a war going on and it has demanded my complete attention for the past four years.’

  Lucy realised he was serious in his request. He was a tall man, over six feet by several inches, and he seemed at that moment to fill the room. Watching him warily, she didn’t understand where this conversation was leading, although she had a strange tingling in the pit of her stomach, a tingling suggesting she would not be pleased with what he had to say.

  ‘Please continue.’

  For a moment he seemed to lose himself in contemplation. When he next spoke it was in a musing tone. ‘What you don’t know is that from the beginning of the war against France I have been working with a bran
ch of the government which operates completely in secret, a branch which reports only to the Prime Minister. I have been given an assignment in Portugal. It concerns the Duke of Londesborough—who happens to be a very close friend of the Prime Minister.’

  The tingling had become an aching dread. Wishing her mouth were not so dry, Lucy cleared her throat. ‘What are you saying? That you are a spy? What nonsense is this? You’d best explain yourself, and quickly, for I have no time to listen to this.’

  Nathan did not smile, nor had Lucy really expected him to. Becoming thoughtful, he turned his back on her. Turning to face her once more, he moved closer, pinning her with his penetrating gaze. ‘I spent twelve months in Portugal, where I was wounded and sent back to England to recuperate. When I was restored to health I did not intend going back, but on being given this assignment I am left with no choice but to return. The families concerned mean a great deal to me. I consider it my duty to help them.’

  Lucy made an impatient gesture with her hand. ‘I see—although I really don’t see what all this has to do with me. I know absolutely nothing about politics and spying, nor do I wish to.’

  ‘I can understand that. The majority of women find the subject of no interest and if I remember correctly you were one of them. But I do need your help.’

  Lucy had to look away because he was staring at her with such intensity she found it most disturbing. She straightened her skirt as if to straighten her thoughts. The atmosphere in the room was beginning to weigh on her. She was tired and her head was aching.

  ‘My help?’ she repeated. ‘I really do not see how I can be of any help to you.’

  ‘I want you to come to Portugal with me—to work with me. I have done such tasks before when a certain degree of discretion is required—it would appear I am rather good at subterfuge. But this time it is different.’

  ‘How?’ she demanded.

  ‘Because you will be with me.’