Desire and Deception (58 page)

The warm afternoon seemed to close in on her as she sped down the path toward the rear of the garden where spike-leaved oleanders and lemon-scented verbena were in full bloom. She sank to her knees in the soft grass, sobbing.

Sometime later she was startled by Lila's light touch on her shoulder. "Lauren, is something troubling you?" Lila asked in a concerned voice.

Lauren hastily wiped her eyes. "It is nothing.
Just a speck of dust in my eye.
Truly, Lila, I'm fine. I needed some fresh air. I will just be a moment longer, I promise."

Lila's smile was a trifle forced, although she nodded and left Lauren alone with her troubled thoughts. Dejectedly, Lauren moved to sit on a wooden bench. She made an effort to regain her composure, but she was soon crying again. Half turning to face the back of the seat, she buried her face in her arms.

A few moments later Veronique joined her. "What is it,
mon
chou
?"
Veronique crooned, wrapping Lauren in a gentle embrace.
"I have never seen you cry. Now you have tears enough to water the entire garden."

"I know," Lauren sobbed. "I can't seem to stop. I don't know what is wrong with me. Oh, Veronique, I am so miserable."

"What has happened? Have you lost a fight with
M'sieur
?"

"I . . .
I don't think so. We did have an argument, but we made up before he left for
Barataria
. I miss him so much that it aches. This is how it will be when—" Lauren broke off, not wanting to open the subject that would lead to lengthy explanations.

"Ah, you are very much in love,
ma
pauvre
miette
.
Your handsome Jason has been gone only three days. But he will return, and then all will be well again."

"You don't understand!" Pulling away, Lauren buried her face in her hands and wailed. Veronique could only pat her shoulder consolingly.

When the storm at last subsided, Veronique drew a handkerchief from up her sleeve and offered it to Lauren. "Perhaps Lila was right. There is a little one on the way,
non
?"

Lauren sniffed as she dried her eyes.
"A little one?"

"Un
bébé
, le petit enfant.
Lila says that when she was enceinte, she cried all the time. She thinks you mean to keep it a secret. I fear she is a little hurt."

The hand holding the handkerchief suddenly stilled. "A baby," Lauren breathed. Then she shook her head. "No, it couldn't be. I've only been married a little more than a month."

Veronique gave a tinkling laugh. "Since when does that make a difference with babies? Perhaps you were not careful enough before the wedding."

"But I was only with Jason once," Lauren protested, feeling color rise to her cheeks. "And that
was
. . .
at the beginning of March. I would know by now if it had happened then."

"But your monthly courses?
Are they on time?"

Frowning, Lauren tried to recall. "Not my last. Oh, Veronique, do you suppose it's true? I am going to have Jason's child?" There was excitement in her voice, and as she searched her friend's face, a soft light began to glow in her eyes. "Yes, of course it is!" she exclaimed before hugging Veronique joyfully. "I just didn't think it would happen so soon. Goodness, Jason was right. What if he hadn't married me? But it wouldn't have made any difference. I would still have loved his child. Oh, God, what if it isn't a boy? He needs a son, Veronique, Kyle told me. Will Jason be angry, do you think
,
if it's a girl?"

Laughing again, Veronique shook her head. "I am sure he will be delighted either way. Will you tell him now? Or will you wait till you are certain? You know, I am not the one to give you advice. You should speak to Lila about these things since she has— Lauren, what is the matter?"

The color had drained from Lauren's complexion, turning her face pale. "I can't tell him," she whispered, bowing her head as fresh tears scalded her cheeks.

Veronique's brows drew together. "Would you like me to tell
M'sieur
for you?"

"No, please!" Lauren cried. Then realizing how hysterical she must sound, she took a steadying breath before turning to Veronique. "I don't intend to tell Jason."

Veronique frowned in puzzlement. "You do not want the baby?"

"Of course I do!"

"But then, what is the problem? You are worried that
M'sieur
Jason will refuse to claim the child as his?"

Lauren smiled bitterly. "No. I'm afraid he will refuse not to claim it. You see, I'm not going to England with Jason when he leaves. If he thought I was with child, he . . . I'm not sure what he would do. But he might demand that I go with him."

Veronique shook her head. "I am sorry,
m'amie
, but I do not understand in the least. Now, explain it to me, and slowly, if you please, so my foolish brain can comprehend."

Haltingly Lauren explained about the agreement she had with Jason. When she was done, Veronique still looked perplexed. "But why do you not wish to go with him? There is nothing here for you in New Orleans. And you have been so happy with
M'sieur
."

"Veronique, it's not that I don't wish to go to England with Jason. It's that I can't. The thought of returning there makes my blood run cold. My . . . my aunt still lives there."

"The one who says you are
un'aliene
, a lunatic?
The one who would have locked you away?"

Lauren nodded. "Regina Carlin, my father's sister. I am afraid of what she will do."

"But your husband will protect you from such a one as that."

"He might try. But sooner or later . . . Oh, Veronique, you don't know how often I've tried to tell myself that it is safe for me to go back. But I can't make myself believe it."

"And have you told
M'sieur
this? What does he say?"

"He has agreed, as long as we make the most of the time we have left. And so we did." Lauren's mouth twisted ironically as she thought of the life growing inside her. And then she thought of Jason's love of children and abruptly started to cry again. Did she have the right to deny him knowledge of his own child? She buried her face in her hands. "This child means so much to me," she declared with a choked sob. "If I must lose Jason, at least I will have something of his."

Veronique pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Lauren, although I have never had to live in fear as you have done, I sympathize with you, truly I do. But I cannot agree with your reasoning. I do not think it wise for you to keep this from your husband."

"You . . . you won't tell him?"

"Of course not,
mon
chou
. That is your business. But you may not be able to hide it from him."

"It won't be for long. Jason will be leaving in a few weeks."

"
Alors
,"
Veronique said helplessly. "And to think I was asking you to remember me to Kyle. But you must stop this crying,
m'amie
.
It cannot be good for the baby. And you will never convince Lila that nothing is wrong, let alone
M'sieur
Jason. Your husband is a perceptive man, that one."

"I know," Lauren sniffed, trying to swallow her tears. "But I suppose I should deal with one problem at a time. What do I tell Lila? She has never
seen me cry before."

"Why, tell her the truth.
That you are missing that new husband of yours.
It is only natural. You can also say that you have not had the time to make a baby. After all, you do not really know for a fact that you are enceinte."

"I
know,"
Lauren insisted in a half-mournful tone.

Veronique paused. "Lauren, are you certain this is what you want?"

She looked away, her face contorting with pain and longing. "No. It isn't what I want at all. But it is what I must do."

"It is strange," Veronique said, shaking her head slowly. "I thought I knew men, but I never would have suspected that Monsieur Jason would agree to leave his wife behind.
Certainly not
you.
"

"Do you think he loves me, then?"

"What a question! The man is mad about you. The light in his eyes when he looks at you— If Kyle had ever looked at me that way, I would have agreed to become his mistress at once and counted myself fortunate. Such a love only comes once in a great while."

"I know," Lauren said again with despair in her voice. "I know."

Lauren spent two sleepless nights coming to grips with her decision to keep her pregnancy from Jason. The day before he was to return from
Barataria
, she went for a walk, needing then to isolate herself from reality for a while. The June afternoon was sultry, the warmth a portent of the sweltering summer heat that could steam a leaf from its vine.

Paying no attention to her direction, she strolled aimlessly over the plantation grounds. She had agreed to stay at Bellefleur during Jason's absence because he had requested it, but actually, there was little for her to do in New Orleans. Between them, Kyle and Matthew were effectively running the Carlin offices and the new distribution network. As for her own ship, the
Matthew
MacGregor
had already been outfitted and sent off on its first voyage under its new owner.

More than once, though, Lauren found herself wishing she could have remained at her beautiful new home in New Orleans. And she missed Jason almost desperately. Even so, she was profoundly grateful that he was gone. Had she faced him when she first realized she might be carrying his child, she would have given the game away immediately. Certainly Jason would have been able to guess that something was wrong . . . or different, Lauren amended to herself. She was unable to consider what was happening inside her body as anything short of a miracle.

When she unexpectedly came across the Beauvais family mausoleum, Lauren realized she was quite a distance from the house. Warily, she eyed the small brick building that stood near a cluster of moss-shrouded live oaks. Usually she stayed away from such places, for they sent chills up her spine, but as she surveyed the elaborate facade, a look of thoughtful concentration crept over her face.

There was a cemetery behind Carlin House, she remembered, where Andrea had been buried. George Burroughs had once taken Lauren there to visit the grave, and he had ranted bitterly because the plot had had to remain unmarked and unblessed. The omission had been necessary, though, for the impersonation to continue.

It was the same cemetery where Miss Foster's funeral had been held, and where Jonathan and Mary Carlin had been laid to rest. Remembering Jason's theory about her loss of memory, Lauren shook her head. She couldn't have witnessed the
Carlins
' deaths, for the tragedy had happened before she had ever come to Carlin House. It was Andrea who had been captured along with Jonathan and Mary by the pirate Rafael. It was Andrea whose mind had been affected by the shocking murders of her parents and her own terrible experiences.