The Foundling Bride

Edward glanced at his brother. ‘Is it your intention to return to the war, or are you home for good?’

‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, Edward, but I am here to stay. My time with the army is at an end. I’m weary of war—which is not going well for the English.’

‘I am aware of that. The world has not passed me by here at Tregarrick,’ Edward replied drily.

‘I am surprised to find you still at home, Edward. In her letter informing me of our father’s demise Mother mentioned something about you going to London. I imagine that now you have the estate to manage you will not spend so much of your time in the city as you have in the past.’

‘Why not? I employ Watkins to oversee the work here. He worked well for my father—’

‘Our father,’ Marcus corrected coldly.

Edward smiled thinly, arrogant in his demeanour. ‘Whatever you say.’

‘Have you considered getting yourself an heir, Edward, and marrying again? It’s two years since Isabel died.’

‘I will—when I am good and ready. It has crossed my mind to go up to London for a time, and I might have a look around for a woman who suits my needs while I’m there. I’m in need of some pleasurable diversion. However,’ he said, swirling the brandy round the bowl of his glass and settling back into the chair, his lips curved in a self-satisfied smile, ‘at this present time I have to say that a certain young woman at Tregarrick is proving to be the most charming diversion since she has come to work at the house.’

‘Really? Do I know her?’

‘You should. You were the one to bring her here after all!’

The dawning of understanding filled Marcus’s eyes. He stared at Edward. ‘Lowena?’ His face hardened. ‘Are you telling me that you and Lowena...?’

Edward laughed mirthlessly. He could almost feel the effort his brother was exerting to keep his rage under control. ‘Absolutely. She has the face of an angel—a beautiful, fallen angel in every sense. She certainly has fire in her veins. You know the type... I’m tempted to remain in Cornwall a while longer. She helps in other ways, too,’ he said quietly, meaningfully, watching his brother carefully for his reaction. ‘She is particularly alert on the nights when there is a run and we need someone to man the beacon—or woman, in her case.’

There was nothing subtle about his mockery. It was direct. Marcus looked at him, lounging in his chair, arrogant, smug, self-satisfied, with a triumphant light in his eyes. He shook his head, as if to clear it of the monstrous thought his intellect was already beginning to form, but it clung on with the tenacity of a limpet on a rock. The mere thought that Edward had made Lowena a pawn in his illegal ventures almost sent him over the edge.

‘Are you telling me that you have involved Lowena in smuggling?’

Edward looked at him. ‘Why not? She is in my employ, so she has to do as she is told. She does have her uses—in many ways.’

Marcus went cold as what Edward had implied settled round his heart like an iron band. An awful, impossible thought came sliding slowly into his mind. It was too wicked for words—and yet suddenly he knew. He had a deep-rooted conviction that it had been Lowena he had encountered earlier—the girl who had been standing as lookout on the coastal path. He hadn’t been able to see her identity because of the dark.

It was bad enough that Edward had implied that he was in a sexual liaison with Lowena—which Marcus refused to believe—but to be told that she took part in his nefarious practices was hard to take in and to accept. Edward had never been one to look beyond his own gratification. The mere thought of his brother tarnishing that sweet girl with his corruption sent a pain through his heart.

What Marcus remembered about Lowena was pure and good—all Edward would see was some sweet flesh to feed on. He had not changed. But then he had not expected him to. Edward lived his life close to the wind, in a dubious, discreditable way, caring little for the gracious things.

Contemptuous of his unworthy brother, Marcus filled his voice with scorn. ‘I will not have Lowena’s character impugned by innuendo, Edward.’

‘Innuendo?’ Edward laughed mirthlessly. ‘My dear Marcus, who said anything about innuendo? Miss Trevanion has grown up to be the most accommodating beauty. Wait until you see her. You will not be disappointed.’

Edward was boasting with an unpleasant brand of sarcasm and resentment that Marcus had heard before. His anger simmered quietly within him, but when he spoke his voice was full of menace. ‘Lowena is nineteen years old—’

‘A very delectable nineteen-year-old. You’ve been absent too long, brother. Your sweet little Lowena has grown up.’

‘I’d sooner see her burn in hell than for you to get your hands on her.’

Edward smiled, not in the least intimidated by his younger brother’s angry words. ‘That’s rather harsh, Marcus, but I believe you. However, it’s a bit late in the day for that.’

Marcus looked at his brother hard. Edward’s face was a mask of sexual greed as he anticipated the corruption of someone beautiful and innocent. There was avarice in his pale blue eyes—avarice and pitilessness, along with self-interest. There was also contempt for those he considered his inferior, and an indifference to those he destroyed in his search to relieve the boredom which drove him like a sickness—a sickness that had possessed him ever since he was a boy.

‘Your words show you in a bad light, Edward. If you attempt to touch her again you will have me to answer to. She is not a prize to be conquered. I demand that you remember that.’

Edward’s eyes narrowed dangerously. ‘You tempt me to put you to the test just for the sheer hell of it.’

‘Lowena is a young woman of great intelligence and tenacity. She is vulnerable and, having played a large part in bringing her to Tregarrick, I consider myself to have an obligation to protect her.’

He’d promised Izzy all those years ago that he would look after Lowena, should she find herself alone, and he would abide by that promise.

‘She is a servant,’ Edward sneered callously.

‘She is also a human being and should be treated with respect.’

‘What goes on in the lives of those in my employ is no concern of mine.’

Edward’s eyes were as cold as steel as they met his half-brother’s, and the muscles in his cheeks tensed with ire. At that moment he saw that Marcus was every inch a man, and any questions he might have had over what might result from Marcus’s time in the Americas and his arrival in Cornwall were answered.

Edward glared at him as their eyes parried for supremacy in a silent battle of unspoken challenge. It was Edward who looked away first.

When he spoke the mockery was gone and his voice was purposeful. ‘I answer to no man, Marcus, least of all to you.’

‘I would not expect you to.’

‘Nevertheless I speak the truth. Lowena is very diverting—which you would know all about had you not gone away to widen your horizons.’

‘I was a soldier, Edward, fighting a war. Listening to you, anyone would think I had gone abroad on the Grand Tour. Unlike you, I had no estate to inherit and secure my future. I had to make my own way.’

‘Until Father willed the mine to you,’ Edward uttered sharply, the tone of his voice telling Marcus how much he resented that fact. ‘You must have known he would.’

‘On the contrary. But he knew you had no interest in it.’

‘Whereas you have?’

‘Of course. You always knew that. So did Father.’

‘Nevertheless, he should have made us equal partners,’ Edward retorted, his expression hardening. He suddenly felt at a disadvantage—a unique experience for him.

‘Has it not crossed your mind that his reluctance to do so might have had something to do with your tendency to gamble, Edward? With your impetuous behaviour and lack of judgement? With such shortcomings as those he might have thought you needed keeping on a tight rein.’

‘He trusted me with the estate,’ Edward pointed out, regaining his confidence.

‘Because he saw that as your right. The mine is a separate entity, started by his grandfather. I think Father knew what he was doing when he willed Wheal Rozen to me. From the report I received in America from the mine manager, I gather Wheal Rozen is highly profitable, so there will be no need to bring in outside capital for further exploration. So you see, Edward, you are not rid of me after all. But you can rest assured I shall endeavour to keep out of your way as much as it is possible to do so.’

‘Under the circumstances, that shouldn’t be too difficult,’ Edward said, getting out of his chair.

‘Since we inhabit the same house, it is inevitable that we shall bump into each other now and them.’

About to take his leave, Edward half turned and looked at him hard, a smug smile curving his lips. ‘The house? And what house might that be, brother? Tregarrick? This house?’ He laughed—a laugh that was brittle and without humour. ‘Of course! You don’t know! But then—how could you?’