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Passionate Retribution
Passionate Retribution
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Passionate Retribution

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‘I didn’t know you had a cottage in Scotland,’ she said, surprised.

‘Why should you?’ he said in a tone that made her flush. ‘You can come with me.’

‘Thanks but no, thanks,’ she retorted without thought.

‘I can see the brain is overloaded again,’ he said sympathetically. ‘You can disappear with me for a decent interval and then reappear having seen me for what I am, or whatever story you care to invent. I favour the wild passion which burnt fiercely but briefly, but I leave the details to you.’

‘You do surprise me,’ she said, bristling. ‘Do I actually have any say in the matter? I don’t like being organised, in fact I hate it,’ she hissed from between clenched teeth. She had absolutely no intention of going further than the end of the drive in Luke’s company. He had extracted her from the immediate situation—she just needed time to think. One thing she didn’t need—in fact the very thought made her feel a surge of undiluted panic—was to spend any more time with Luke.

‘I know you prefer to do the organising, but look where that’s landed you. Bossy women are not universally admired.’

She drew herself up to her full height and eyed him balefully. ‘I’m so sorry I’m not a feminine, fluttery female,’ she intoned sarcastically. ‘You sexist pig! I take it it’s all right for you to order me around? I’m supposed to be meekly submissive.’

‘Meekly submissive is not the way I’d have described you, Emily,’ he said drily. ‘I was just trying to drop a hint or two. You’re not exactly subtle, are you? And as for my suggestion, it was just that. I don’t care whether you take me up on it,’ he announced negligently, as though he was beginning to be bored by the whole conversation. ‘It seemed the logical step to take, and if you can type or file you might even be useful,’ he added thoughtfully.

Not if I can help it, she thought bitterly. ‘You’ll be able to torment Father for a little longer—I expect that’s the main appeal.’

Luke gave a sudden grin, devilish lights reflected in his eyes. ‘I gather you have a few reasons to be less than happy with Daddy, Em. The thought had occurred to me that Charlie will be tormented by images of sordid goings-on in the heather.’

Emily felt the colour seep beneath her skin, his words had conjured up an image so shocking and unexpected. Luke was staring at her, his expression broodingly speculative. She registered the dark shadows beneath his eyes and the shadow of stubble that covered his cheeks and jaw. It gave him an air of attractive dissipation, although she knew it probably just indicated incipient exhaustion. Luke kept himself in superb condition; he couldn’t survive at the pace he set himself if he didn’t exhibit some self-control. She was thinking along the lines of exercise and diet… Women, that was another matter. Did her cousin usually take women up to his Scottish retreat? If he did, did he expect…? Her eyes opened wide in sudden sharp alarm.

‘Are you actually suggesting that we—?’ She broke off, searching for the correct terminology to cover this problem.

‘I’m anxious to inflict some mental anguish of a severe degree on your family, Emily, but I’m not willing to exert myself that much, infant.’

The swing of her arm was pure reflex. She registered the darkening mark along his cheek, wondering if he would retaliate. He appeared quite unmoved by her tears and she was furious with her uncontrollable response.

‘You always were a bully.’

‘And you were always a pampered brat,’ he replied dispassionately. She froze when he grasped her chin, forcing her to look up into his eyes. ‘You were always trying to get attention, I seem to recall.’

She tried to jerk away, a hot denial on her lips.

‘You have a very selective memory, infant. Oh, I quite forgot, you’re a mature woman these days,’ he drawled mockingly. ’strange, I doubt that—despite outer appearances.’ His unoccupied hand rose to trace carelessly the outline of her breast from the fabriccovered under-curve to the bare upper slope.

The casual intimacy induced an instantaneous physical response of her flesh, which she endured with confused misery. She swallowed a constnction in her dry throat, aware of the rasp of fabric against her sensitised flesh. The bodice of her dress seemed suddenly painfully tight.

‘The sort of attentions you gave me were delightful interludes. Like throwing me in the lake in November.’ She breathed deeply, regaining a little equilibrium now that his hand was no longer in contact with her flesh, even though his cool fingers seemed to have left an imprint like a brand on her skin. ‘Or pushing my face in the dirt,’ she added, warming to her theme. ‘And—’

‘All of which were preferable to indifference.’

He must have seen the dawning of awareness flicker in her eyes.

‘Y-you were incredibly awful to me,’ she faltered.

‘I believe the punishment usually fitted the crime.’

‘Children may have few rights to speak of,’ she replied, barely coping with an odd breathlessness that was afflicting her, ‘but I’m an independent agent now. And I have no intention of going anywhere with you except away from the immediate precincts of Charlcot.’

‘How long before you’re back?’ he sneered. ‘Living at home at twenty has to limit your emotional development to some extent, even when the said home has all the anonymity of a hotel.’ He gave her a look of mild contempt. ‘A five-star hotel, of course. No wonder you still act like a spoilt brat.’

‘The way I live my life has got nothing to do with you.’

‘Live?’ he drawled sarcastically.

‘I would have left home,’ she began, stung by the contempt. It was easy for him—nothing had ever been there to hold him back. She envied his freedom. I’m free now, she reminded herself: no fiancé, no terminally ill father to be mollified. Should I be celebrating? A bubble of hysteria rose in her throat.

Luke was watching her closely…was that concern? No, it couldn’t be, she decided. ‘Emily…’ He spoke her name angrily, with an urgency that made the wild laughter die abruptly.

‘So it’s true.’ Her mother’s strident voice broke the brief strained silence

Emily sighed, feeling suddenly weary. She hadn’t heard her father bring in reinforcements Here we go again! she thought. As if he’d picked up the energy draining from her, Luke interposed himself between her mother and herself. Not out of any wish to preserve her sanity, she thought, assailed by a strange nebulous hunger. More likely he didn’t want her to end the farce before he had extracted all the spiteful revenge he possibly could from the situation.

Her mother was as cold as her father had been hot; the gist of her words indicated that she wasn’t surprised at Emily’s behaviour. Emily listened to her whole life being described as a deliberate series of actions geared to give her parents the utmost degree of distress. She had the impression that her mother felt somehow vindicated by this final example of her ungrateful behaviour.

She stood frozenly dazed as her mother swept out of the room, dismissing her youngest child, her thoughts concentrated only on minimising the scandal attached to an engagement broken almost before it had been born.

‘Such warmth, such compassion,’ she heard Luke murmur. She looked at him, surprise widemng her blank eyes as he draped his jacket across her shoulders. It held the soothing heat of his body. She gave an involuntary shudder.


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