"So you are Jonathan's brat," the woman declared.
Lauren had no doubt this was Regina Carlin, for she bore an uncanny resemblance to a portrait of Jonathan Carlin which hung at Carlin House. Her face was lined with age now, but she shared her brother's facial features, as well as the family height and regal carriage. The stark black gown Regina wore made her seem a somber, almost tragic figure, while her silver-gray hair gave an added appearance of fragility. Lauren was well aware, though, that her aunt was a dangerous adversary. The ruthless, fanatical way Regina had pursued the Carlin fortune for so many years was proof enough of that.
The gray eyes relentlessly bored into Lauren. "You're Jonathan's bastard," Regina accused, shattering any lingering hope that she might not know Lauren's identity. "Elizabeth DeVries was your mother." When Lauren gave a start, Regina's lips twisted in a sneer. "Oh, yes, I knew about you! Jonathan bragged more than once about how he had tricked your foolish mother."
Lauren felt her heart slamming against her ribs in painful strokes. The game was up. "Yes," she said faintly. "Jonathan Carlin was my father."
There was a long, tense silence while aunt and niece simply stared at each other. Then Regina spoke again, almost to herself. "I've been as much of a fool. George Burroughs arranged for you to take Andrea's place, didn't he? How clever of him. I never would have guessed he had the nerve. And you—I wondered what had happened to Jonathan's bastard, but I never connected you with little Andrea. Burroughs said he had hidden Andrea away where she would be safe. I couldn't believe it when Sikes told me of a woman named Lauren DeVries who owned the Carlin Line."
As if on cue, Ned Sikes stepped from behind a hawthorn tree. He kept his distance, yet Lauren couldn't suppress a shudder as his insolent gaze touched her. Her throat suddenly felt as dry as dust. "He was spying on me?" she asked hoarsely.
Hooking his thumbs in his belt, Sikes leaned back against the tree and nodded. "She 'ired me to watch that fancy man of yers," he drawled. He ignored the quelling look Regina gave him, although he refrained from speaking again.
"That interfering Stuart!" Regina spat contemptuously, fixing her gaze on Lauren. "I understand you're married to him now. I suppose he thinks he has tied up all the loose ends quite nicely. First he steals the Carlin ships so I can't get my hands on them, then he marries you to make it look legal. Where is dear little Andrea, by the way? Not that I really care.
"She's . . . she's dead," Lauren stammered.
A twisted smile spread across Regina's lips. "How unfortunate. It would have saved me a great deal of trouble if she had died with Jonathan and Mary, when she was supposed to."
Lauren couldn't stifle a gasp. "When she was supposed— Then you did kill the Carlins?"
"I'm surprised Burroughs didn't tell you all about it," Regina jeered, avoiding a direct reply.
"He said you were responsible for my father's death."
Regina's mouth tightened. "Jonathan was evil. You should be able to understand that, considering what he did to your mother. I met Elizabeth once. So unsuspecting. So innocent. She found out to her sorrow what my brother was truly like."
"So you murdered him?"
A spark of anger flashed in the gray eyes. "Not I. Rafael."
"The pirate," Lauren echoed.
"He was the man I loved," Regina said with quiet vehemence. "The man I would have married but for my brother. I only told Rafael how to find Carlin House, but I would have helped him kill Jonathan, had I been there."
It was said so calmly, without the least hint of remorse, that Lauren felt a fission of fear run along her spine. She watched apprehensively as Regina's gray eyes took on an unfocused look, as if she were remembering something in her past.
"Jonathan condemned Rafael to slavery, just for the crime of loving me. My lover, the man who would have been my husband came back half a man." Her fierce gaze focused on Lauren once more. "Do you know what that means, dear niece? Do you? I was glad when Rafael had his revenge. I was glad to know my brother suffered the same fate! And, yes, I was glad when Jonathan died!"
Lauren knew horror must have shown in her face, for Regina raised an accusing finger and pointed. "Who are you to sit in judgment of me? I had reason to hate Jonathan! He ruined my life when he destroyed my Rafael."
"But Mary . . . and Andrea . . . they had done nothing."
"No," Regina said harshly. "But when they died, the Carlin Line would have come to me. I planned to sell the fleet and give the money to Rafael in payment for what Jonathan had done."
"But then Andrea survived," Lauren murmured.
A mask settled over Regina's proud features. She looked cold, ruthless, and to Lauren, deadly. "Yes," Regina drawled, "somehow little Andrea got away. And while your half sister still lived, I couldn't touch a penny of Jonathan's fortune." She gave a bitter laugh. "And to think all this time I believed you were she! You're Jonathan's daughter all right, with an eye out only for yourself. I should have Ned kill you for playing such a trick on me. You would enjoy that, wouldn't you, Ned?"
Seeing the wolfish, black-toothed grin Sikes threw her, Lauren took an involuntary step backward. "You're mad!" she cried at Regina, the words escaping her lips before she could bite them back.
Regina's short laugh made her skin crawl. "Probably. Madness runs in our family, I expect. But unfortunately for you, I'm not so far gone yet. Your sister was, though. She wasn't even aware of her own name after Rafael's men finished with her."
Lauren dug her nails into her palms, trying to remain calm, knowing she would need all her wits about her if she hoped to escape this coil. Perhaps if she kept Regina talking, she could create an opportunity. . . . "So you tried to have Andrea declared insane?" Lauren prompted. "That way you could have the Carlin ships."
"It would have been so simple. But Burroughs wouldn't allow me. From the first, he protected Andrea, kept her hidden at Carlin House."
Lauren's hand crept to her throat as she remembered another death at Carlin House. "Then you did push Miss Foster over the cliff?"
"Who is Miss Foster?"
"My . . . governess."
"Oh, yes. Her." Regina's eyes narrowed. "What if I did? Jonathan's money should have been mine. Burroughs had no right to interfere. No right at all."
"But he had so many men. I wonder how you managed to get past them."
A look of contempt twisted Regina's mouth. "I simply sent a letter to the Foster woman by post, asking her to meet me on the cliffs. She wouldn't agree to help me, though. I had to kill her."
This talk of death on such a beautiful summer morning, while sparrows and finches twittered joyously in the branches above them, seemed totally incongruous to Lauren. Stealing a glance at Ned Sikes, she saw that he was gazing up at a point somewhere above his head. Although she couldn't say why, Lauren had the distinct impression that he was listening intently to the conversation. Still, he didn't seem at all concerned by Regina's admission that she had murdered someone in cold blood. Lauren shook her head, feeling dazed.
"Jonathan's money should have been mine," Regina repeated, taking a menacing step toward Lauren.
Alarmed, Lauren held up her hands to ward off an attack. "But you won't get the money by killing me," she said in desperation. "My husband owns all the Carlin ships now. And if something happens to him, they go to his heirs. He has a very large family. You couldn't kill all of his relatives, too."
Regina's face contorted with scorn. "Don't you think I am aware of that? I expect his lordship will be willing enough to pay to have you returned to him safely, though."
Realizing they meant to abduct her in broad daylight, Lauren had difficulty forcing down her rising panic. Another glance told her she would get no help from Sikes. In fact, he probably was contemplating how he was going to kill her if Jason wouldn't agree to pay her ransom. But perhaps Regina could be brought to change her mind. . . .
"I'm not so certain that my husband will want me back," Lauren said breathlessly. "He doesn't know I'm not Andrea
Carlin, you see."
She could tell her confession took Regina quite by surprise. Or at least it made Regina consider how her plans would be effected. Lauren pressed her point, feeling her way as she tried to stall for time. "I was afraid Jason might not marry me if I told him the truth. You were right, I wanted to be Lady Effing, a marchioness," she lied boldly. "And Jason wanted no one to question his right to the Carlin ships. I thought it a fair exchange. Me, a bastard, becoming a titled lady, while he avoided any legal problems. The world believes me to be Andrea. You're the only one who knows the truth." Lauren could almost see Regina's thoughts churning as she determined how to use this new information to her advantage.
"Stuart must have realized," Regina said slowly, "that I wouldn't just sit quietly by while he kept the money for himself. That when I discovered you had returned, I would take some kind of action to recover the ships he had stolen from me."
Lauren shook her head. "No, he thinks he frightened you enough to make you give up the idea. With you out of the way and me bound to him by law, he no longer sees a need for caution. Since he doesn't know who I am, he doesn't yet see the threat my background presents."
"What are you saying? That your parentage would make a juicy scandal? Perhaps you're right. There's no evidence to prove you're legitimate."
"Evidence? Why . . . should there be evidence?"
A taunting smile twisted Regina's mouth. "I always suspected Jonathan lied about his marriage to Elizabeth. She certainly thought it was valid."
Lauren stared at her in shock. "You mean my parents . . . truly were married?"
"You'll never know for sure. Jonathan destroyed any records of the ceremony. I know. I went to Ormskirk to check for myself." When Lauren remained speechless, Regina continued, her tone contemptuous. "It wasn't too difficult to guess what Jonathan had done. He tried to seduce Elizabeth, and when he couldn't, he married her. He must have realized his mistake, though, for he left her behind when he returned to London. It was only after Elizabeth put up a fuss that Jonathan came up with that tale about a sham ceremony. He had already married Mary Burroughs by that time, at Burroughs's insistence. Mary was breeding, you see."
Lauren was too stunned to reply. She simply stood there, shaken, her thoughts reeling.
"But perhaps you're right about your husband," Regina said, returning to their original subject. "The high and mighty Lord Effing might pay to keep the world from knowing he married a bastard. He might pay more if I threaten to tell the courts about your impersonation of Andrea."
Visions of prison flashed before Lauren's eyes, forcing her to collect her rioting thoughts. "No!" she said, too quickly, "you can't involve the courts."
"Why not?" Regina asked, regarding her suspiciously. "Indeed, that might be the very thing. The Carlin Line is sure to come to me when it's learned you're a fraud."
Lauren took a steadying breath. "I only meant that you wouldn't gain anything by being rid of me, since Jason owned the ships before our marriage. And he would put up a fight in the courts. He might even accuse you of murdering the Carlins and Miss Foster."
"He has no proof."
"Still, it will do neither of you any good to bring in the authorities."
"So we are at an impasse. And I am back to my original plan. Jason Stuart must pay to have you returned to him. As you so conveniently pointed out, he doesn't know you're not Andrea. He should still be interested in getting you back unharmed."
"But I have a better plan!" Lauren exclaimed as Regina took another step toward her. "A bargain, if you will."
"You have nothing to bargain with."
"But I do. Rafael's life." When Regina's gaze narrowed, Lauren went on quickly. "Jason promised George Burroughs to hunt Rafael down and kill him. No matter what happens to me, Jason will still honor that promise. If you know anything about my husband, you must know he'll succeed. And I'm the only one who can stop him. Is Rafael's life still dear to you?" Lauren said slowly, letting her words sink in. "Do you still have any love for him? I could persuade Jason to leave him alone, in exchange for your silence."
"Ned?" Regina said, implying that she wanted his corroboration.
"It's true 'e was askin' questions about Rafael. An' I 'eard tell 'e was fittin' the Capricorn with enough bloody cannon to sink a fleet o' ships."
"Jason means to sail next week," Lauren interjected. "I could make him change his mind."
"How?"
She could see Regina wavering. "I'm not sure yet, but I would think of a way."
"But how do I know you will even make the attempt?"
Lauren forced herself to return her aunt's gaze. "I enjoy my present life, Aunt Regina. For once I have all the gowns and jewels I want, as well as the respect of people who previously would have turned up their aristocratic noses at me. I want nothing to ruin that. Jason would be angry enough to kill me if he ever discovered how I deceived him. And even if he spared me, he would find some way to make my life miserable, particularly if I brought scandal to his beloved Stuart name. I could avoid all that if you agree to follow my plan. Later, I would find a way to share the money with you. But I should think you would first want to make sure Rafael is safe from my husband. Give me a little time. I think I can safely promise that Jason will never sail on the Capricorn."
"Very well," Regina capitulated. "You have two days."
"That might not be enough—"
"Two days! No more! Or I tell Jason Stuart that you're a thief and an impostor. If he were to kill you, it would be no more than you deserve. I warn you, though, that I will attend to it myself if you fail. Ned will be watching you. Ned, see that her ladyship goes straight home."
Lauren felt relief wash over her. She had managed to buy some time . . . for the moment. She was trembling, though, and her knees felt so weak that she wondered if she would collapse. She had to force herself to turn and walk slowly away from the woman who had been her particular nemesis for so long. She could feel Ned Sikes's presence as he followed close behind her.
When she was out of Regina's sight, Lauren found herself breathing hard, as if she had run a great distance. Her legs had regained some of their strength, however, and she didn't feel quite so faint. When she reached a junction in the path, she turned to face Sikes. Trying to hide her fear, she told him that her coachman would be suspicious if he saw a strange man following her. Lauren thought it quite odd when, rather than arguing, Sikes made her a respectful little bow and, without a word, walked away, leaving her quite alone. Lauren stared after him for a moment before giving herself a shake. She was wasting precious time.
When she was seated once more in the luxurious carriage, Lauren leaned wearily against the squabs. She had no intention of trying to persuade Jason to do anything, of course. As soon as Regina had hinted that Jonathan Carlin's marriage to Elizabeth DeVries might actually have been valid, Lauren had realized her only alternative: she had to go to Ormskirk where the ceremony had taken place, to search for proof that the marriage was legal. She couldn't build her hopes too greatly, though, for she might never find such proof. But if there were any possibility that she was the legitimate heir to the Carlin Line, she had to make the attempt.
She knew the general location of Ormskirk; it was close to Liverpool, and to St. Helen's where she had lived the first twelve years of her life with her mother. She would leave at once, and with luck, she could put a half-day's distance between herself and London before Jason even realized she was gone. Though certainly she would have to do a much better job of disguising her trail than the last time she had run from her husband.
Her husband, Lauren said to herself with mingled anguish and supreme bitterness. What would Regina do if her marriage to Jason turned out not to be legal? It seemed ironic that were she truly Jason's wife, she would be accorded a jury by his peers. She would avoid hanging then, for the strongest sentence meted out would be imprisonment. And it was possible she could avoid even that. Jason might hate her when he learned how she had deceived him, but h
e would probably stand by her, if only because of his child. He might be unable to save her, though. And she couldn't risk being sent to prison, not while she was carrying his child. Even if she escaped hanging, she would never survive being locked up.
Lauren closed her eyes as a combination of nausea and anxiety overwhelmed her. The knowledge that she was grasping at her last chance for happiness only served to increase the strain of the past twenty-four hours—one that left her exhausted.
How she ever found the strength to carry out her hastily devised plan when she arrived home, Lauren never knew. After ordering her coachman to wait, she mounted the stairs to her rooms and penned the note that she would have delivered to Jason. She was relieved that Molly was busy in the laundry, for she didn't want the abigail to see her packing. With dazed automation, Lauren stuffed a change of clothes and a warm mantle into a bandbox. She would tell the coachman it contained a gown that needed alteration, and when he had driven her to the dressmaker's shop, she would send him home and slip out the back way. She should easily be able to take a hackney to a posting house, where she could hire a post-chaise for the journey to Liverpool.
But she needed funds. Jason had given her an extremely generous allowance of pin money, most of which she hadn't spent yet. As Lauren filled her reticule with coins and bank notes, though, she was forcibly reminded of the last time she had left London in a hurry. Jason had financed her escape then, too. Fiercely, she banished the memory, stifling an hysterical urge to cry.
The seconds were ticking away, but there was one more thing Lauren had to do. Going to the bureau, she unlocked the jewel box containing the priceless family gems Jason had given her. She could never take them, of course, and she would leave behind the little emerald heart, as well, for it no longer belonged to her.
Willing her fingers to stop their trembling, Lauren removed the chain from about her neck. As she brought the jeweled heart to her lips, though, her breath caught on a sob, and when she laid the necklace upon its bed of velvet, the tight ache in her throat threatened to choke her.
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