The Foundling Bride. Helen Dickson

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      She lowered her eyes, but his extraordinary eyes drew her back. ‘None that I can think of,’ she replied, thankful that her voice was calm and did not betray her inner nervousness. ‘You must forgive me if I appear somewhat vague, but I am not used to being woken in the dead of night.’

      He lifted a well-defined black brow in question. ‘No? Not even when my brother requires your assistance on the cliff on certain nights? You little fool! I thought you would have more sense than to let him implicate you in his nefarious activities. It doesn’t matter how he persuaded you. The facts speak for themselves.’

      He noted her bewilderment and apprehension, the way she looked about her as if searching for a hole down which to disappear.

      ‘Never mind,’ he uttered crisply. ‘We will speak of it tomorrow.’

      ‘There is nothing for me to say,’ she said with underlying desperation. ‘Because of my situation, and with no family of my own to go to, I cannot afford to offend a man like your brother. He is my employer. It is impossible for me to disobey him. You have no idea what it has been like for me since Izzy died...’

      A smile of understanding tempted Marcus’s lips. ‘Maybe I should have, had I not been absent for so long, but I assure you, Lowena, that I have a good idea now.’

      Hearing the gentleness behind his words, she looked at him and felt her heart skip a beat. Her eyes devoured him, worshipped him—his hair, his eyes, his face were all more attractive than any she had ever seen, and if what she felt for him was love, then she loved him absolutely, devotedly. With a love that had bonded her to him when she had been sixteen years old and was stronger still now, even with no hope of ever having her love returned.

      She would be content to exist in the same space as he did.

      His eyes were on her face, gauging her, watching for every nuance of emotion in her. He could have no notion of her wayward thoughts.

      She flushed and drew herself up proudly. The spectre of his brother rose between them, intangible but strong, and an unexpected sense of pain filled Lowena’s heart that Marcus might have listened to his brother and judged her unfairly. Her heart beat a tattoo in her chest and she was afraid he would hear. There was still so much of the girl in her, at war with the young woman this man was capable of bringing to the surface.

      ‘All I ask is that, whatever Lord Carberry has told you, you do not judge me too harshly. Remember that I am not the girl I was when you went away.’

      ‘No, I realise that. If my brother’s words are to be believed, then I can only assume that your conduct has been reprehensible, that you haven’t an ounce of sense or propriety, and that your behaviour would have been an embarrassment to Izzy had she been alive.’

      The unfairness of his words brought a gasp to Lowena’s lips. ‘How dare you say that to me? I have never failed to respect Izzy—but I suppose if I hadn’t, the name I bear does not permit any offence to go unpunished,’ she bit back, bristling with indignation at being wrongfully accused. ‘You said if your brother’s words were to be believed. Do you believe them?’

      His eyes refused to relinquish their hold on hers as he sought the truth. ‘He implied that you and he are lovers.’ He arched a dark brow, his eyes quizzical, probing hers. ‘Should I believe him?’

      Lowena stared at him in stunned, hurt disbelief, and in a blinding flash of sick humiliation she saw he really did believe that his brother spoke the truth. Anger welled up in her heart, draining the blood from her face and bringing a furious sparkle to her eyes.

      ‘I should know better than to speak against Lord Carberry, who has the power to dismiss upon a whim, but I have the right to speak in my defence. Do you think I invited his attentions somehow? Do you think it has been my ploy to lure him in the hopes of gaining some special privileges for myself? If so, you do me an injustice. I work at Tregarrick because I have no choice. I am not intimidated by Lord Carberry, and nor am I awed by his attentions—which are most unwelcome.’

      ‘Are you telling me that I have misconstrued what he told me—that is if I believed it in the first place?’

      Forcing herself to remain calm, she raised her chin defensively. Her eyes were scornful and she spoke in a controlled voice. ‘Believe what you like. I do not feel that I have to justify myself to you or to anyone else, for that matter. Perhaps it would make you feel better if I admitted to everything your brother has said about me—regardless of the fact that it may not be true.’

      Marcus gazed at her from beneath his lowered eyes. He could see how tense she was, and that her eyes were shining with a pain he wondered at. He was touched, despite himself, by her youth—and also by some private scruples. Whatever the truth of the matter, she still had a virtuous innocence and a warm femininity that touched a deep chord inside him.

      ‘Enough. Enough of this for now. The hour is late and it is not the time.’

      ‘Enough, you say? How dare you be so judgemental? You have been away a long time and know nothing of what has been happening in my life. I find your inquisitorial and aggressive manner both unreasonable and unacceptable. You are playing the role of an outraged father whose honour has been besmirched a little too well for my liking—casting accusations and demanding explanations. A lot has happened to me in your absence. I am no longer the complaisant, naïve, pathetic young girl you remember.’

      ‘You were many things, Lowena, but you were never pathetic,’ he countered softly.

      She stared at him, momentarily thrown by the sudden softening in his eyes. ‘Oh—thank you. But you see I am my own person now, and I answer to no one.’

      Looking at the tempestuous young woman standing before him, her eyes flashing like angry jewels and her breasts rising and falling with suppressed emotion, Marcus felt a stirring of reluctant admiration for her courage and daring to speak out so plainly.

      ‘Thank you for that edifying piece of information.’

      ‘Think nothing of it,’ she retorted.

      Drawing a deep, suffocating breath, she fought with all her strength to keep back the tears which had started to her eyes and to ignore a heart beating hard with a mixture of so many emotions that they almost overwhelmed her.

      ‘Am I to reside at the cottage indefinitely?’ she ventured to ask, when she was confident she could speak calmly. She was bewildered by the night’s events and did not really know what she wanted to do at that moment.

      ‘For now. I’ll speak to my mother in the morning. Now, come along. The hour is late and I think we could both do with some sleep.’

      Clutching her bundle close to her chest, Lowena followed Marcus out of the house and down the drive in the direction of the cottage. She stared at his broad back. Silly, girlish tears pricked her eyes. She blinked and set her mouth in a determined line before they reached the cottage.

      They were not surprised to find it in darkness. Marcus hammered on the door and after a few minutes a woman in her night attire, carrying a lighted candle, opened it a crack.

      ‘Who is it?’ she enquired, clearly afraid that it might be someone up to no good.

      ‘It’s me, Mrs Seagrove—Lowena,’ she said quickly, in order to allay the housekeeper’s fears. ‘Mr Marcus is with me.’

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