The Art of Love

by Lacey, Lilac

  ‘Are you all right?’ he asked. He was really quite perceptive, she thought, a quality most men lacked, he would be the perfect man with whom to enjoy a flirtation.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Tara said, and cast around for something with which to change the subject. ‘Are those musicians some of the players from Tuesday night?’ she asked. She did not, in truth, recognise any of the players, having barely paid attention to the music let alone the musicians, but it seemed like a reasonable guess.

  ‘Yes, they are,’ Mark said, taking her arm and leading her in their direction. From the back the man sitting on a banquette, next to Caroline looked disturbingly like Leo. Tara felt a hard knot of misery form inside her. Was she destined to see Leo lookalikes everywhere she went for the rest of her life? She did not think she could bear it. She had to distract herself.

  She placed her free hand over Mark’s, where it rested on the crook of her elbow; it was a little intimacy she had practiced a hundred times, and looked up at him. ‘What a wonderful idea to engage them to play this evening! Was it your idea?’

  ‘No, it was Caroline’s,’ an unmistakably familiar voice said in her ear.

  Tara yelped and whirled round. She found herself standing face to face with Leo who had risen from the banquette and now looked at her with unreadable eyes. It really was him! She couldn’t believe it. She wanted to reach out, to touch him to see if he was real and of its own volition her hand seemed to move towards him. Abruptly she snatched it back but saw from the quirk of Leo’s lips that he had noticed her involuntary gesture. ‘I believe you two are acquainted,’ Mark said and Tara felt him shift uncomfortably. Surreptitiously she removed her hand from his and felt him release her arm.

  ‘Yes we are,’ Leo said. His eyes, which glittered dangerously, never left hers. ‘It is a mild night, shall we take a turn around the garden, my dear Lady Tara? You could tell me what brings you to Bournemouth.’ Tara was too stunned by the coincidence seeing Leo here in Mark’s home to answer and then a ghastly thought struck her. Did Leo think she had followed him here? His question implied that he did and if so, what did he think she wanted from him? An illicit liaison? The very idea, despite, or perhaps because of its scandalousness, sent a shiver of anticipation through her body. Leo seemed to take her silence for assent. He offered her his arm and Tara found herself powerless to resist even so proper an invitation. Without a backward glance at their host Leo led her out of a side door and around to the back of the house, to the evening cool and hush of the garden. They were quite alone.

  It was a balmy evening. Tara let Leo escort her along a short avenue of box hedges and down three stone steps to a sunken garden where they were beyond the pools of light thrown from the kitchen windows at the back of the house. Then he spun her to face him, wrapping his arms around her so she couldn’t escape even if she had wanted to. Instinctively Tara placed her hands on his chest, feeling his heart beating through the fabric of his clothing. The beats felt insistent and urgent, making her want to unbutton his shirt and press her cheek against the warmth of his chest.

  ‘As I said,’ Leo rasped, almost in her ear, ‘what brings you to Bournemouth?’

  ‘It wasn’t you,’ the words spilled out before she could stop them. ‘I had no idea you were her, and if I had…’ she stopped, realizing that the assertion that she had been about to make was a lie. She would not have gone somewhere else had she known Leo was here. On the contrary, she would have followed him much sooner. Leo’s grip on her tightened.

  ‘If you had?’ he prompted.

  Tara decided to offer him a compromise between truth and decorum. ‘It would have made no difference,’ she said firmly. ‘We came to the seaside for my mother’s health. Bournemouth was convenient.’

  ‘Convenient!’ Leo echoed. She tried to gauge his expression but he was looking down at her and his eyes did not catch the moonlight. They were unfathomable pools of darkness. ‘Is that what I was?’ he demanded, pulling her closer so that her breasts pressed against him and Tara found she could not suppress a gasp. ‘I was helping you out by overseeing Penge and you thought how convenient it would be for me to become your estate manager.’

  ‘It’s a respectable job!’ Tara said hotly, but Leo ignored her.

  ‘Or was there some other role for which I would have been convenient?’ he continued harshly, bending his head so his lips brushed against her temple as he spoke.

  ‘No,’ Tara said weakly and Leo kissed her cheekbone. ‘That is…’ He kissed her again, this time on the corner of her mouth and Tara lost the thread of what it was she was trying to deny but she made one last effort. ‘I would never - ’

  Leo kissed her full on the mouth and Tara surrendered willingly, twining her fingers in the dark curls at the back of his head to hold him even closer. She felt something hard in the press of his hips against her own and she longed to feel his hands roam over her body, teasing her and holding her as if she belonged only to him. He slid his hands around her waist and caressed her ribs with his thumbs through the sheer silk of her dress. The sensation was exquisite and Tara arched her back, pressing herself up against him.

  Then abruptly Leo pulled back. ‘Is that what you wanted from me?’ he demanded, his breathing ragged.

  She could hardly deny it and a shiver of excitement went through her at the thought of admitting her feelings for him. ‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘Yes it is.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Why?’ Tara repeated, staring at him in confusion. Did he really expect her to put into words the tumultuousness of her feelings for him?

  ‘I know why.’ Leo took her chin in his hand, turning her in the moonlight as if he were examining her for flaws. ‘Or at least I know why you weren’t interested in Hulme or La Monte. You like your men tall, dark and dangerous. I’m the type you’re attracted to and so is my cousin Mark. That’s all it is. Only Mark isn’t dangerous, he’s a gentle pussycat and I’ll thank you to take your claws out of him.’

  With a gasp Tara jerked herself free of his grip. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she said hotly.

  ‘Don’t you?’ Leo said. ‘I’ve seen you throwing yourself at him. Mark isn’t one of your sophisticated London set, used to these games. You’ve hooked him all right and now you’re reeling him in.’

  ‘First he’s a cat, now he’s a fish!’ Tara snapped. ‘You know nothing about my friendship with Mark. You saw us together for a few seconds this evening and now you’re jumping to wild conclusions!’

  ‘I saw you all alone with him, hanging on his arm while you strolled down the beach, quite unchaperoned,’ Leo snarled.

  ‘What?’ Tara stared at him, feeling as if she’d had the breath knocked out of her. Leo must be referring to her walk around the cliffs with Mark last Saturday which meant he’d known for a week that she’d been in Bournemouth, known it for a week, and yet not made contact with her until tonight. She knew she could not have kept her distance like that, she would have sought him out the moment she realized he was in the town, she loved him far too much to have stayed away.

  ‘Then you met up with him again at the concert on Tuesday and you invited him to dinner the day before yesterday,’ Leo continued ruthlessly, bringing home to Tara again and again how easily he could have approached her and how determinedly he had stayed away. It must be that he did not love her, she realized, and knew that until then she had nursed a secret conviction that he felt the same way about her as she did about him. But she was wrong. It was unbelievable, but she was wrong. The knowledge seemed to knock her heart out of her body and the pain robbed her of the power of speech. ‘I know in London women think nothing of such flirtations behaviour,’ Leo continued savagely, ‘but in a small place like Bournemouth it is taken to mean something. Mark believes his interest in you is returned. I’m telling you to break off the friendship now. I won’t have you humiliating him by spurning his affection!’

  With a huge effort Tara pulled the shattered remnants of her dignity together. ‘As
I told you,’ she said in a low voice, resisting the temptation to scream at him, ‘you should not be so quick to jump to conclusions. Don’t try to separate me from your cousin, he won’t thank you for it. Perhaps we will remain just friends and perhaps we will become something more, either way it is none of your business!’ As she spoke Tara felt her anger building, she let it grow, it was a far better feeling than the agony of knowing Leo did not love her. ‘And I’ll tell you one thing more,’ she said recklessly. ‘Mark, unlike you, would make a fine husband. He is well mannered and considerate and altogether of a far better temperament than you!’

  For a moment she thought he was going to strike her, so black was his expression, but then his face seemed to shutter and she felt herself cut off from his thoughts. Then she felt Leo’s hand close over her own with surprising gentleness which contrasted with the coldness of his tone. ‘Come into the house.’

  ‘Why?’ Tara demanded sharply.

  ‘We have finished this discussion. We need never discuss anything again. But I will not leave you alone outside in a country garden at night.’

  It was too much. He never wanted to see her again, but he was showing her the courtesy of a gentleman to a lady, for one last time. Tara tore her hand from Leo’s and raced for the house before a sob could betray her feelings.

  Leo strode after her and watched until Tara had let herself inside. Then he shoved his hands into his pockets and stared moodily into the darkness. That little encounter had not gone at all as he had hoped. It was his own fault, he thought bitterly. Seeing Tara again, touching her, had served to remind him how much he desired her and how unique she was among the many women he had met. If he had stayed cool and distant he might have been able to convey to her exactly how she had insulted him by offering him a job. But he had not. Instead they had argued and argued so ferociously he could not see any way they could regain even a semblance of friendship again. But even then he had not been able to bear to let her go alone into the darkness that separated the sunken garden from the house and so he had followed her to the doorway, keeping her safe whether she wanted him to or not. Despite everything he loved her.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Leo stared at the closed door, half expecting it to reopen and Tara to come running out to fling herself into his arms. He felt at that moment that he would have given all the world for that to happen, but the world was not his to give and the door stayed resolutely shut. Briefly he considered following her indoors but dismissed the idea instantly, she had walked away from him, he’d be damned if he were going to go grovelling after her. Returning to the party was impossible. It was quite a slight to his hosts, but he would have to leave. His coat was still inside, but it was of no concern, the evening was cool, but not yet cold and his cottage was only a two mile ride away, he could collect his coat in the morning and make his apologies for his abrupt departure then.

  That decided, Leo collected his mount from the stable and rode slowly home. He had chosen his horse rather too well, he reflected, the gelding was steady and sure and demanded too little of his concentration to stop him from brooding over the scene in the garden. Mark, unlike you, would make a fine husband, Tara had said and he had been sure she had been merely trying to bring home his own unsuitability for the role. But now, thinking back over the entire conversation, he realized that Tara had not at any point denied her interest in Mark. True she had said it was only a friendship at present, but she had made it clear that it was a friendship she intended to develop. For the first time it occurred to him that Tara might be seriously thinking about marriage with Mark, and from what he had seen of his cousin, Mark was quite enough taken with Tara to propose. The thought left him cold, then suddenly he was full of fire. He was not going to sit back and let his cousin marry the woman he loved, no matter how insulting, cutting or irritating she was. Tara belonged to him, now all he had to do was convince her of it.

  Tara pulled the door shut tight behind her and then slumped in the shadow of the doorway. Leo had followed her to the house, would he perhaps follow her inside, take her in his arms and tell her how much he loved her? For one wild moment she taunted herself with that possibility, but the door stayed firmly shut behind her and she knew he was not coming. She felt as if her heart had been torn apart, and she clenched her fists, her fingernails digging into her palms, in an effort not to give in to tears.

  After a few minutes of hiding in the shadows, when all Tara was aware of was her own ragged breathing and the tremendous effort she was making to bring her feelings under control, she felt ready to rejoin the party. Well, not ready, she silently amended, but as ready as she was going to be with a broken heart. She stepped out of the doorway, hoping she looked more composed than she felt.

  ‘Ah, there you are,’ Mark came over to her as she paused by the refreshment table, thinking that nibbling a pastry might give her something to do and prevent people from expecting her to make conversation. Eating was the last thing she felt like, but it would be something to hide behind. She snatched up the smallest pastry on the plate, a triangle topped with slivered almonds and took a minute bite while attempting to smile at Mark. He peered at her and she thought he looked a little concerned. ‘Have you known my cousin long?’ he asked.

  ‘Just a short while,’ Tara suddenly found she wanted to talk about Leo, however obliquely. ‘He painted my portrait a few weeks ago.’

  Mark nodded, ‘Yes, he’s very talented in that direction, he was always drawing and painting even as a child. Of course he couldn’t possibly have become an artist if things hadn’t worked out so disastrously for his family, but there you go, every cloud has a silver lining, or so they say.’

  ‘Quite,’ Tara said faintly, since Mark seemed to expect some sort of a response, and clearly assumed she knew what he was talking about. She longed to question him further and was furiously trying to think of a way in which to interrogate him without seeming to do so when the door at the far end of the parlour swung open to admit another guest.

  ‘Oh,’ Mark said, looking pleased, ‘Lord Davenham has arrived. Come and meet him.’ He took her arm in his own and led Tara over to the impeccably dressed gentleman who was greeting his parents.

  ‘Hello, Reeves,’ Lord Davenham said, smiling genially. On closer inspection Tara thought he was older than he had first appeared, but gentle living preserved youth like nothing else, she thought cynically, Leo for example looked five years or so older than his cousin, but from the way Mark spoke about him, she guessed they were of an age.

  ‘Lord Davenham, how good of you to come,’ Mark said, shaking his hand warmly and Tara suspected that despite the formality of his words that they were old friends. ‘May I present my friend Lady Tara who is summering in Bournemouth with her mother Lady Penge?’

  ‘I’m delighted to meet you,’ Lord Davenham said. His kiss on her hand felt like nothing more than a formality and Tara wondered if he were married, if not he must surely be the most eligible bachelor around here, being a lord. Married or not, Lord Davenham was clearly not looking for feminine company tonight and Tara found herself detached from Mark’s company and left to mingle with the other guests alone. It suited her, she realized as she helped herself to a glass of wine. The strangers she chatted to expected little from her, all she need do was make a few complimentary remarks about Bournemouth and they were happy to continue in praise of the town while she nodded and smiled and thought her own thoughts.

  ‘The view from Canford Cliffs of Handfast Point is one of my favourites,’ a young girl was saying to her. ‘I believe my cousin Leo is painting it.’ Tara felt her mind snap to attention at the mention of Leo’s name and she realized she was talking to Mark’s younger sister, Caroline. She stared at her, seeing the resemblance in Caroline’s strong features, despite the femininity of her blonde, curly hair. Here was her chance to find out more about Leo, she was sure this child could easily be persuaded to chatter about her cousin without suspecting the reason for Tara’s interest.

&nb
sp; ‘Do you know your cousin well?’ she asked.

  ‘Not as well as I could have,’ Caroline said. ‘He is ten years older than me and has been living in London ever since his father died, painting mostly. Papa asked him to come and live with us, but Leo wanted to be independent. He comes here for Christmas, from time to time, though.’

  ‘How did his father die?’ Tara asked avidly. Caroline gave her an odd look and Tara wondered if she had underestimated the younger girl.

  ‘I’m not really supposed to know,’ Caroline said primly, but she threw Tara a sideways look.

  ‘But you do know,’ Tara said, quite certain.

  Caroline smiled at her. ‘Yes, well, sort of. I believe he drank himself to death, but he was ruined by then anyway.’

  ‘Ruined?’ Tara asked, this didn’t quite fit with the picture she had formed of Leo’s family. After he had made it quite clear that he did not come from a long line of poachers she had amended her view and seen them as a respectable family who had fallen on hard times; that was not the same thing as being ruined.

  Caroline nodded sombrely and dropped her voice to a whisper. ‘It was gambling, my uncle lost everything, the house, the lands, the tenants’ cottages. The moment he died they were all forfeit and Leo had nowhere to live. That’s why he went to London. He didn’t want to come here where everybody knew him, he couldn’t bear the shame.’

  ‘I see,’ Tara said slowly. So Leo had originally come from an affluent family. Maybe her mother wouldn’t consider him beneath the Penges after all, maybe she would see him as an eligible suitor for her daughter. Tara stamped out that thought, hard. What good would it do her to have her mother accept Leo, when Leo himself had made it quite plain that he never wanted to see her again? Suddenly Tara felt that she could not carry on at the party a moment longer. ‘Please excuse me,’ she murmured to Caroline and went to find Lady Penge.