The Ragged Heiress Page 4

  Lucetta was concerned to see her mother’s eyes fill with tears and her lips had begun to tremble. ‘Please don’t say any more, Lady Boothby. Can’t you see that you are upsetting my mama?’

  ‘Lucetta,’ Eveline cried faintly. ‘Remember your manners.’

  Lady Boothby drew back her neck and her eyes glittered like a cobra preparing to strike. ‘How dare you speak to me like that?’

  ‘I don’t mean to be rude, ma’am, but I won’t stand by while you insult my parents. They may not be what you consider to be top drawer, but they are good honest people and worthy of respect.’

  ‘Well!’ The word exploded from Lady Boothby’s lips and her eyes bulged in their sockets. ‘I’ve never been spoken to in that tone in my life, you insolent creature.’

  A groan from Eveline was lost in the sound of approaching footsteps and the murmur of male voices interspersed with bursts of laughter. Lucetta glanced from her mother’s tear-stained face to Lady Boothby’s outraged expression and she realised that she had gone too far. Papa was still angry with her and he would be even more furious when he discovered that she had spoken out against their hostess. A waft of Havana cigars and brandy preceded Sir John and Henry as the double doors were flung open, but Lucetta did not wait to be tried and sentenced – she made her escape through the French windows and fled down the veranda steps into the all-enveloping darkness of the garden.

  She ran, stumbling through flower beds and tripping over tree roots, stopping only to catch her breath. She was shaking uncontrollably and her heart was pounding against the whalebone cage of her tightly laced stays. She glanced over her shoulder to make certain that she had not been followed but all was quiet. The single-storey white stucco consulate appeared to float serenely in a pool of light emanating from the drawing-room windows and the paper lanterns hanging from the roof of the veranda. Lucetta could hear the soft murmur of voices from within, and it was not difficult to imagine the main topic of conversation, but she had no intention of returning to face the inevitable lecture. That could wait until tomorrow when hopefully everyone would have calmed down after a good night’s sleep.

  Still slightly breathless but intent on reaching the sanctuary of her own room, Lucetta made her way along a path between hedges of tall oleanders, their scented pink and white blossoms standing out palely against the dark night sky. A rustling sound in the undergrowth sent a shiver down her spine. It might be some harmless nocturnal creature or it could be a poisonous snake. She quickened her pace, sighing with relief when the path ended on the carriage sweep at the front of the building. The wide expanse of gravel was illuminated by cressets on either side of the main entrance and Lucetta would have to cross it in order to reach her room. It should have been quite deserted at this time in the evening but a commotion outside the gatehouse made her freeze in her tracks. Holding a lantern above his head, the gatekeeper was arguing fiercely with a person or persons on the road outside.

  She paused for a moment, but realising that the gatekeeper was fully occupied she decided to take advantage of the diversion. Bracing her shoulders she forced herself to walk on at a steady pace, as if it were quite normal for her to be out alone after dark. Her feet crunched on the small jagged stones and the hairs stood up on the back of her neck when she realised that someone was following her. Commonsense deserted her and gripped by panic she broke into a run, but the footsteps were coming closer and she realised that someone was calling her name.

  ‘Miss Froy. Stop, please.’

  Ignoring the plea, she raced towards the shrubbery, but her pursuer caught up with her before she could disappear into the shadowy undergrowth. She spun round to find herself looking up into the face of Sam Cutler.

  ‘Miss Froy, we seem doomed to meet in unusual circumstances.’

  Struggling to regain her composure, Lucetta eyed him coldly. ‘Mr Cutler, I live here. You have no right to scare me like that.’

  ‘That wasn’t my intention, I can assure you.’ He snatched off his peaked cap and tucked it under his arm, bowing from the waist with a rueful smile. ‘If I did, then I apologise, but I didn’t expect to find you skulking around on your own in the dark. I’m not sure that the consul would approve.’

  He was standing with his back to the light and she could not make his features out clearly, but Lucetta heard the laughter in his voice and now she had recovered from her fright the humour of the situation was not entirely lost on her. ‘But I’m not on my own now, am I? You are here, although you haven’t given me a reason for this unexpected visit. Have you come to see my papa?’

  He shook his head. ‘No, Miss Froy, I came to beg your pardon. I didn’t want to abandon you this morning and I had to make certain that you got home safely. Unfortunately the fellow at the gate didn’t understand my motives for this rather late call.’

  Lucetta glanced over his shoulder. The gatekeeper had summoned help from the stables and a group of men were advancing purposefully but warily. She could see that they meant business. ‘You’re right. I think the gatekeeper is about to have you thrown out.’ She slipped her hand through his arm. ‘Come with me. They won’t dare do anything if I take you into the consulate.’

  ‘I don’t want to make things awkward for you.’

  ‘Never mind that. I’m in enough trouble already and a little more won’t make a scrap of difference.’ Lucetta pulled him purposefully towards the steps which led up to the impressive double doors. They opened as if by magic and a liveried servant stood aside with a respectful bow. Lucetta thanked him with a smile and a nod, hoping that she appeared more nonchalant than she was feeling as they entered the cool white-marble entrance hall with its elegant console tables imported from Europe, gilt-framed wall mirrors and ormolu candle sconces. Three wide corridors led off the reception area; one led to Sir John’s official suite of rooms and the other two to the private apartments and servants’ quarters. ‘Come with me,’ Lucetta whispered. ‘Hurry.’

  ‘Why are you hiding and who are you hiding from?’ Sam demanded as she dragged him towards the consul’s private dining room. ‘Is it a game of hide and seek?’

  ‘Are you laughing at me?’ Lucetta demanded suspiciously. ‘I’m not a child, you know.’

  His eyes crinkled at the corners and his lips twitched. ‘No, I can see that. You are very much a young lady, and a beautiful one too if I might be so bold.’

  ‘Oh, stuff and nonsense. Now I know you’re teasing me,’ Lucetta said, turning away to hide her blushes. ‘Quick, I think someone’s coming. We can get out through the dining-room window.’

  Without waiting for his response she opened the door to the deserted dining room, where all traces of the recent meal had been cleared away and a clean white damask cloth had been laid ready for breakfast next morning. The floor to ceiling windows had been left open to clear the room of tobacco smoke and Lucetta darted out onto the veranda. She leaned against the balustrade, safe in the knowledge that the velvet darkness on this side of the building would protect them from prying eyes. Her heart was beating a tattoo in her breast, which must, she thought, be due to nervous excitement. But then she realised that she was trembling, and this time it was not fear that was making her pulses race, but the close proximity of a young man who had put himself to a degree of trouble for her sake. She was acutely aware of his presence and overcome by shyness. At a loss for words, she stared down at the ground, unable to look him in the face.

  ‘So tell me what this is all about, Lucetta,’ Sam said gently. ‘May I call you that?’

  She nodded mutely.

  ‘Why were you wandering about in the grounds after dark? Perhaps you had a tryst with a lover?’

  This brought her head up with a start. ‘Certainly not.’

  ‘I must say I’m glad. You would be wasted on any of these Imperial pen-pushers and mealy-mouthed civil servants who cling to the edge of the Empire.’

  Even in the dark she sensed that he was smiling but she had no experience of flirting and she did not kno
w how to respond to his banter. Sam Cutler was unlike any man she had ever met and strange new feelings clouded her mind so that it was impossible to think clearly. ‘I don’t think you ought to say things like that,’ she said, making an attempt to sound grown up and in control of the situation. ‘I think I’d better go to my room now, so I’ll bid you goodnight, Mr Cutler.’

  He took her by the hand. ‘After all we’ve been through today I think we can drop the formalities. My friends and family call me Sam.’

  His hand was warm and held hers as tenderly as if it were a baby bird that had fallen from its nest. Lucetta felt herself melting inside and she was alarmed. She knew she ought to pull her hand away, but it felt so comfortable in his grasp. ‘And did you catch the escaped convicts, Sam?’ Her voice sounded strained even to her own ears, but she knew she must retreat to safer ground.

  ‘No, but we will resume our search at daybreak. They won’t get far without food or water and the people in outlying villages have been warned to look out for them.’

  ‘I hope you catch them,’ Lucetta murmured. ‘Goodnight, Mr – I mean Sam.’

  He released her hand only to pull her into his arms. Lucetta made a vague attempt to struggle free, but without much conviction. Her brain told her to resist, but somehow her body would not respond. Her feet refused to move and in an involuntary movement her arms slid round his neck. She could feel his warm breath on her cheek as she raised her face, half shy, half daring him to make the next move. His lips when they claimed hers were soft and sensual, caressing her mouth with tender kisses until her lips parted with a sigh. She closed her eyes and abandoned herself to the moment. His mouth tasted of fresh pineapple and honey and she could feel the warmth of his body through the thin cotton of his shirt. The male scent of him made her dizzy with desire and her body seemed to fit his so closely that they had become as one being. She returned his embrace with a passion she could never have imagined possible. This might be their first real kiss but she knew in her heart that it would not be the last. Too soon he drew away, holding her at arm’s length.

  ‘You are beautiful, Lucetta Froy,’ he said softly, tracing the outline of her lips with his forefinger. ‘I don’t want to leave you but I must go now. I will return tomorrow.’

  ‘No,’ Lucetta whispered breathlessly. ‘You must not come here. Papa would not permit it.’

  ‘I will speak to him. Everything will be all right, I promise you.’ He blew her a kiss and backed away into the darkness.

  Lucetta stood motionless, hardly able to believe what had just happened to her. Nothing seemed real. She was floating above the ground. She was totally and completely happy. Life was wonderful – she was in love.

  In spite of everything, Lucetta slept well and awakened next morning with a feeling that something amazing was about to happen. Hundreds of butterflies seemed to be fluttering about in her stomach and she felt that she was invincible. There would, of course, be a long and uncomfortable session with Papa. He would lecture her at length on her inappropriate behaviour, but the worst he could do to her would be to forbid her to leave the consulate, or to stop her allowance. She stretched luxuriously and smiled. What did money matter when she had found the man she would love forever? Sam had promised to return today and her heart leapt at the thought of seeing him again. She must look her best. What gown would she wear? She must get Naomi to dress her hair in the most becoming style so that when he saw her he would fall in love with her all over again.

  Lucetta snapped upright in bed. Had he said he loved her? Fingers of fear gripped her heart. Had she dreamed the whole thing? She raised her hands to her temples, closing her eyes, and then she opened them again, smiling. How foolish she was. He might not have told her he loved her in so many words, but his actions spoke for themselves. Surely a man could not kiss a girl with such passion if his heart were not well and truly lost to her?

  She reached for the bell pull and tugged at it to summon Naomi before leaping out of bed. Ignoring the fact that she was clad only in her nightgown, she threw the French windows open and stepped outside onto the veranda. Birdsong filled her ears like a heavenly chorus and a flock of white Balinese starlings took off from a banyan tree, chattering and flapping their black-tipped wings, the iridescent blue feathers on their heads glinting in the sunlight. Why had she never noticed how beautiful everything was before? She lifted her arms, raising her face to the sun as she inhaled the scent of the champak which grew close by. Reaching out she plucked a blossom from the bougainvillea that spilled in a waterfall of purple from the roof of the veranda, and she tucked it behind her ear, native style. The lush foliage and flowers in the neatly tended garden sparkled in the sunshine as the raindrops from last night’s tropical downpour evaporated in a steaming mist.

  The click of the latch on the bedroom door made Lucetta turn her head to see Naomi enter her room with a jug of hot water and fresh towels.

  ‘Good morning, Naomi,’ Lucetta said happily. ‘Isn’t this the most glorious day?’

  ‘Good morning, missy,’ Naomi replied, smiling as she filled the bowl on the washstand and replaced the soiled towels. ‘You sleep well?’

  Lucetta went back into the room with her feet barely touching the ground. She gave the startled maid a hug. ‘I slept so well. Thank you for the clean towels and the hot water. You are wonderful. Everything is wonderful.’

  Naomi looked at her doubtfully. ‘Missy?’

  ‘And you haven’t understood a word I said,’ Lucetta said, giggling. ‘Never mind. You may go now, but come back after breakfast and help me choose my most becoming gown. I want to look absolutely stunning today.’

  Naomi’s doe-eyes widened and she shook her head. ‘Ma’af, missy. Saya tidak mengerti.’

  ‘I know you must be confused, my dear,’ Lucetta said sympathetically. ‘I’ll try to make you understand later, but I’m absolutely starving.’ She rubbed her tummy and mimed eating and drinking. ‘Breakfast, please. I’d like coffee, rolls and lots of fruit.’

  ‘Ah!’ Naomi said, smiling. ‘Yes, missy.’ She clasped her small brown hands together and bowed from the waist. ‘I go now.’

  Lucetta could barely restrain herself until the door closed and then she did a little dance, but on catching sight of her reflection in the cheval mirror she came to a sudden halt, staring at the young woman who peered back at her with a surprised expression on her pale face. Slowly, staring at the stranger in the looking glass, Lucetta undid the buttons on her nightgown and allowed it to slip to the ground. The blood rushed to her cheeks as she eyed her naked reflection and she struggled with her conscience. Well brought up young ladies were supposed to be modest and pure in thought and deed. That was the mantra which had been drummed into the girls at Miss Milton’s Academy. Ladies took no pleasure in the lusts of the flesh; that was the province of the lower classes and fallen women. The female form had to be imprisoned by whalebone and covered at all times. Décolletage was allowed in the ballroom but a gentleman must never see so much as the turn of an ankle, let alone a shapely calf.

  Lucetta allowed her hand to stray over her breasts and flat belly, and her thoughts were anything but pure as the warm, moist air caressed her naked flesh. Mama and Lady Boothby had talked about marrying her off to some wealthy suitor, a prospect that had seemed to be so far in the future that it need not be taken too seriously, and she had barely given a thought to the intimate side of married life – until now. Quite suddenly she was seeing herself in a new light. In an instant her whole life had changed.

  Last night a man whom she barely knew had held her in his arms and kissed her. In his tender embrace she knew that she had found a safe haven – she had come home. She could still feel the warmth of Sam’s embrace. The taste of him lingered on her tongue and her whole being was consumed by desire for something that she did not fully understand. She had no clear idea of what constituted married love, just the vague rumours that the girls had hinted at in whispers and giggles under cover of darkness when the dormitor
y was supposed to be sleeping.

  Lucetta shuddered with pleasure as she felt her nipples harden. She pulled a face at the girl in the mirror who stood with her feet planted wide apart and her back arched. She shuddered as a warm tingling feeling struck her in the most private of all places and she closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around her body as she tried to imagine that it was Sam Cutler who caressed her. A man’s arms would not feel soft and rounded like a girl’s. Lucetta had seen navvies at work in the streets with their bare sinewy forearms, their bulging muscles gleaming with sweat and rippling as they moved. She opened her eyes again, staring at herself open-mouthed with horror. She would go to hell for such wicked, lascivious thoughts. She seized the bowl of rapidly cooling water and tipped it over her head.

  Trembling with shame and the shock of a sudden drenching, she snatched up her cotton wrap and flung it over the mirror. Water pooled on the tiled floor and she could only hope that Naomi would assume that the spillage was an accident. Having towelled herself dry, Lucetta slipped on her shift and struggled with the laces of her stays, tugging at them until she could hardly breathe. She could hear Miss Milton’s voice ringing in her ears. ‘Self-control, young ladies. Self-control and self-discipline are the two factors that made this nation great. When you go out into the world you must always remember this.’

  By the time Naomi arrived with the breakfast tray, Lucetta was sitting primly on the veranda combing her wet hair. The aroma of the coffee mingled with the flower-scented air and Lucetta drank two cups, one after the other. She devoured a plateful of sliced mango and then peeled the wrinkled purple-brown skin off a mangosteen, sinking her teeth into the crisp white segments. She would miss all these exotic fruits when she returned to London. Apples and pears were nothing compared to sweet, delicately scented star fruit or a succulent, slightly acidic rambutan.

  Lucetta sighed. Just thinking of leaving this island paradise made her sad. A few short hours ago she had been dreaming of home and the diversions that she missed most, but meeting Sam had changed all that. She would have been happy to stay here forever, as long as he was with her. She tore a freshly baked bread roll in half, spreading each section with the strawberry jam that Lady Boothby had sent to her in a regular order from Fortnum and Mason’s. While she ate, savouring each mouthful, Lucetta decided that she could not exist for a whole day without seeing Sam. The need for him was consuming her like a fever, and if he could not come to her then she must go to Benoa harbour and seek him out.