Love Affairs. Louise Allen

will.’

      When her hands dropped away from his coat he dug in his pocket and produced a small box. ‘You see, I came prepared. Think of the pleasure of displaying this to Lady Amelia and her friends.’ The square-cut diamond glittered in the sunlight. Beautiful, cold, expensive.

      ‘Thank you,’ Laura said steadily as she drew off her left glove and held out her hand. ‘I must obviously take my pleasures where I may. You can be sure I will gloat in the most ladylike manner.’

      He said nothing, but took her hand in his and slid the ring onto her finger. It was a perfect fit. Laura looked at the arrogant, masculine, beautiful face and did not flinch when he raised his eyes and met her gaze. I love you, she thought. I would have shown you that love, heart and soul.

      Avery’s eyes narrowed as if he saw something in her face, then he turned away with a slight shake of his head. He pulled on his ruined gloves, unwound the reins and clicked his tongue at the horses.

      Laura kept her eyes on his profile and felt the ice crack even further until the pain told her everything she needed to know. It is too late. What have I done?

      * * *

      She had her composure intact when they returned to the house. She smiled and thanked Avery prettily for the lovely drive, she laughed gaily at her own clumsiness as she hobbled up the front steps on his arm, she lowered her lashes demurely when she saw her hostess approaching and let her see the great diamond on her finger.

      The reaction was most gratifying. Or it would have been if all she cared about was securing a husband and suppressing gossip. The sideways looks, the sharply indrawn breaths, the tutting disapproval, all vanished as if they had never been. Lady Laura Campion had secured the hand of a most eligible nobleman and all was as it should be.

      Even the young ladies who had hoped to receive a proposal from Avery and who had sniggered with horrified delight over her disgrace that morning had the sense to hide their chagrin now. Lady Wykeham was going to be a power in society and they had no intention of earning her enmity now.

      Laura could only feel relief at the change, although she gave no sign of her feelings about their hypocrisy. After all, she was the greatest hypocrite there. She showed off her ring, feigned modest delight, fluttered her eyelashes at Avery when he was not looking at her and did everything expected of her other than summon up a blush.

      ‘Yes,’ she agreed, dabbing at her dry eyes with a lace-edged handkerchief. ‘It is so sad my parents are not here to share my happiness. No, I have no idea where we will be married. I will leave that decision to Lord Wykeham.’

      ‘St George’s, Hanover Square,’ Avery said, strolling up to the tea table in time to hear her. ‘I intend to stay at the town house for the remainder of the Season and I can see no reason to delay the ceremony, can you, my dear?’ His look of polite enquiry dared anyone to so much as think an early date might be a necessity, not a matter of choice. ‘Have you finished your tea, Laura? I think it time we shared our news with my daughter.’

      ‘Of course.’ She stood and took his arm and allowed herself to be guided from the room, but instead of walking through to the garden entrance and the terrace where the children were playing Avery opened the door to a small sitting room.

      ‘In here. I need to make something very clear.’

      ‘Well?’ Laura shook off his hand and swung round to face him. ‘What is your latest demand?’

      ‘You will give me your word that you will never, under any circumstances, tell Alice the identity of her mother.’

      Laura stared at him. The thought that she was now in a position to tell Alice the truth had never occurred to her, she was just so happy that she would be with her, despite Avery’s loathing. Now she realised that it would be the most natural thing in the world to tell her daughter the truth.

      ‘But I must tell her! Not yet, of course, but when she is of an age to understand. She has the right to know her mother loved her, always.’

      ‘She has the right not to be hurt any more than she has been,’ Avery said.

      ‘Why, you are afraid I will tell her you are not her true father! That is it.’ His expression became even stonier. ‘You coward, you think she will cease to love you.’

      Avery moved like a snake striking. His hand fastened around her wrist like a manacle and her pulse jolted so he must have felt it like a hammer-strike. ‘Tell her who either of her parents is and you will regret it. Alice has a hard enough path to follow in order to shake off the legacy you bequeathed her and establish herself as an accepted member of society with the hope of a decent marriage. Will you shake her understanding of who she is, destroy everything she accepts as the truth in order to satisfy your own need for forgiveness?’

      ‘No! I need her to understand she is loved—’

      ‘She knows that already.’

      His fingers encircled her wrist, not tightly, just keeping her there. Laura tugged. ‘Let me go, you are hurting me.’

      ‘It hurts when you resist me, not when you do as I say.’ He waited until she stopped pulling and established his point for him. ‘In our marriage you will find the same thing. Obey and you will be happy enough. Run counter to me and suffer the consequences. Now swear.’

      He did not spell out what those consequences were. To banish her from Alice, she supposed. He was intelligent enough to know an unspecified threat would work more uncertainty on her mind.

      ‘I am surprised you would accept my word, but, yes, I swear not to tell Alice the truth about her parentage. Let me add another promise. I will never let her realise that the man she loves as her father is a blackmailing, unscrupulous tyrant.

      ‘Now, let us go and tell her our joyous news.’ She smiled at him, the glittering smile that had always masked her deepest hurt. And I swear you will never discover my greatest weakness: my love for you.

       Chapter Seventeen

      They sat together on a broad garden bench under a lilac bush, well away from the laughter and shrieks of the playing children. Alice stood in front of them and listened, wide-eyed, her hand clasped in his as Avery told her that he had found her a stepmama and that Lady Laura would be his wife. He had hoped she might be pleased, but he was unprepared for the emotional kick in the gut when she wriggled her hand free of his and threw herself into Laura’s arms with a shriek of delight.

      Alice’s joy should not have been a shock, he knew she liked Laura, had seen their rapport when the child had grown to know her Aunt Caroline. Surely he could not be jealous, or worse, resentful that the child had found another adult to love? Avery shifted that uncomfortable, unworthy thought away and watched Laura. He was not prepared for the tears on her cheeks, nor the fierceness of her embrace in return for Alice’s. She had protested all along that she loved her daughter and now he knew he had to accept that was the truth. No actress, however skilled, could feign the depth of her emotion and, in his heart, he had always known it.

      And, despite her fierce independence, her dislike of him and her desperate need to be with Alice, she had yielded on every occasion when he had put pressure on her for the sake of the child.

      Now, against his every prejudice, he had to accept she would do anything for Alice. Even, it seemed, marry a man she detested. But why leave it so late to try to claim her child? It could not even be that she had refrained from making contact while her parents were alive for their sake, because it was not until over a year from their deaths that she had sought Alice out. And the conventions of mourning would not have kept her from the child, he could see that. There had to be some good explanation, he wanted to believe that.

      But could he trust her with anything else? She had turned on Piers, furious and full of spite, when he had simply been doing his duty. She had flaunted herself amongst the fastest set in society for years, earning a reputation that had been an inch from ruin. And she had