Highwayman Husband. Helen Dickson

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      When Laura was introduced to Lucas by her aunt, he appeared brusque and quite formidable to her, and with a sense of foolish dismay she realised that her head hardly came up to his shoulder. His eyes passed over the plain young girl quickly and with little interest, looking at her but not seeing her. When he moved on she realised how immature she must seem to him, but from that moment her heart was lost to her.

      It was as if a candle had been lit within her, which burned with an unquenchable flame, and the more she tried not to think of him the flame seemed to burn all the stronger. She told herself it was foolish to think like this, and that, since he seemed unaware of her existence, to save herself heartache she ought to forgo her visits to the places where he would be present. But instead she seized on their meetings and hugged them to her like a comfort blanket. She thrilled at each one of the occasions that she saw him, and looked forward to the next with passionate anticipation, marking her calendar with red crosses so she wouldn’t forget those few treasured days.

      The misunderstanding that was to change her life occurred when she was leaving a party with her father late one night. Rain was coming down in torrents and it was blowing a gale. There were so many people and such confusion in the street as everyone tried to hold onto their elaborate hair adornments and find their carriages. Somehow Laura became separated from her father and found herself alone in a carriage that was suddenly driven off at breakneck speed, drawing terrified screeches from all those it almost ran down.

      Horrified, she tried shouting for the driver to stop, that there had been some mistake, but he couldn’t hear her over the noise of the storm. The carriage continued to travel like this for some time, causing Laura extreme concern for her safety. She had no idea what was happening to her or where she was being taken, only that they had crossed the river and were heading in the direction of Richmond.

      After an hour or so of being bounced about, when the driver finally brought the carriage to a halt in Richmond Park, he jumped down from his perch and flung the door open. Laura was astonished to find herself face to face with Lucas Mawgan. He stared at her with a look of enormous surprise, which was quickly followed by anger and frustration. That was the moment she realised that the carriage she was in belonged to the Weston family—it was very similar to her father’s—and she looked back at him with a dawning of understanding and deep regret.

      Lucas Mawgan had abducted the wrong woman, and he knew there would be all hell to pay when he took her back.

      He was right. Her father and brother were furious. To prevent a dreadful scandal that would ruin her reputation beyond recall, her father and Philip insisted Lucas do the honourable thing and marry her. There was no one more astonished than she was when he made no attempt to defend himself and agreed without argument. Laura tried telling him that she knew of the mix-up and he didn’t have to marry her, but she was too humiliated and intimidated by him to say so. He did not disclose to anyone what his intentions had been when he had abducted her that night—but she knew.

      When they were together Lucas was always courteous to her, but she could detect the underlying currents in his tone and body. He was seething with anger. He hadn’t wanted to marry her. He was simply being chivalrous. But Laura was supremely grateful for the way he had leaped to the defence of her reputation to save her from disgrace, which proved how noble he was. She would repay him for his kindness, she vowed. She would be a good wife to him. They were not much alike, yet despite their differences they might deal well together. However, they only had three short days together as man and wife before Lucas had to go to France—and was lost to her.

      On Lucas’s demise, at eighteen years old she found herself with the burden of managing servants and trades people, and striving to keep the small estate intact. She found it difficult to understand Cornish people and their way of life, and there were plenty of men and women in and around Roslyn who didn’t like strangers. At first she felt like an interloper, who had invaded a world where she was not welcome. But, being a natural born survivor, she soon found her feet and learned to stand on them.

      Fortunately money wasn’t a problem, since Lucas had left her a very wealthy young widow. Upon paying his lawyers in London a visit shortly after his death, she listened with a sense of unreality as she was told of the extent of his wealth. As well as the income from the estate, he had a large fortune invested in stocks and bonds that would take good care of her in the years ahead.

      Neither Laura nor Edward spoke until the dark outline of Roslyn Manor came into view. The great house was in harmony with the massive rocks, flanking the sea, on which it stood, proud and defiant, gazing sightlessly over the Channel as it had done for centuries.

      The coach stopped at the bottom of a narrow flight of steps leading up to the solid, double oak doors, and when Edward would have got out Laura halted him. Although she was quaking inside, she looked at him with outward calm. She must delay no longer in telling him she would not marry him, and now that the moment of confrontation was at hand she was strangely relieved.

      ‘Edward, wait. There is something I have to say to you.’

      He looked at her sharply, his mind still preoccupied with what had just transpired. ‘What is it?’

      Taking a firm grip of herself, she very carefully steadied her voice in an attempt to soften the blow. ‘I cannot marry you,’ she told him quietly. ‘I’m sorry.’

      He looked at her as if she had taken leave of her senses. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Laura. What nonsense is this? Of course we’ll be married, and with respect we should proceed with the arrangements without delay. You’re hysterical and overwrought by what’s happened, that’s all. You’ll feel better in the morning.’

      ‘I mean it, Edward. It was wrong of me to say I would—and to let the party go ahead tonight. I had misgivings from the start and should have spoken out. I should never have let it go this far.’

      ‘Then why did you?’

      ‘I—I don’t know. I was afraid, I suppose.’

      ‘Afraid, Laura?’ he said harshly, his eyes narrowing. ‘Afraid of what? Me?’

      ‘No, of course not. I don’t know why. But I feel I have to put a stop to this, to end it now while there is still time. Our betrothal was a mistake.’

      ‘You don’t know what you’re saying. You’re committed to me.’

      ‘No, I’m not. I don’t love you, and I know you don’t love me. A betrothal can be broken more easily than a marriage.’

      Edward noticed that she was measuring her words, and he began to realise she was not hysterical but perfectly sane, and that she meant what she was saying. His face darkening with anger, his fists so tightly clenched that the knuckles became bloodless, he looked at her hard, resenting her rejection as a personal insult. ‘Have you forgotten that it is what your brother wants—what he expects of you?’

      ‘My brother will be the first to understand,’ she returned with cool civility. ‘Of course, I will write to your mother and explain.’

      ‘Now, Laura, be sensible,’ Edward said, trying to gentle his tone to coax her out of this madness. ‘You know the situation.’

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