Desire and Deception (69 page)

And as she crawled between the clean silk sheets that Lady Agatha had brought all the way from London, Lauren had to admit that she was grateful for such devoted care. Everyone was being so kind to her, so supportive. If only she could talk to Jason. If only he could forgive her. . . .

Molly left the room shortly afterward, promising to fetch some food from the kitchens. When she returned with it, Lauren made a halfhearted effort to rouse herself from her despondency. "Do you know anything about a man named Ned Sikes?" she asked as she was being spoon-fed a bowl of nourishing broth.

"Oh,
m'lady
, you would never guess! The Bow Street Runners were here.
Such comings and goings.
And him one, too, that Mr. Sikes.
Who would have believed it to look at him? And a chief magistrate was here, too, asking to see you."

Shock penetrated Lauren's misery. Ned Sikes a member of that elite corps of thief-takers?
An arbiter of the law asking to see her?
Dear God, what was going on? Were they here to arrest her? Lauren pushed the bowl away, suddenly too faint to swallow.

"Are you finished with your soup,
m'lady
? His lordship asked to be informed when you were able to have visitors. The magistrate wants to speak to you."

Jason here at the inn?
Yet he hadn't come to see her? Weakly Lauren shook her head. "No . . . please, Molly. Tell his lordship that I'm too ill to face anyone."

"Very well,
m'lady
," the maid replied with a curtsy. "If there's nothing you'll
be needing
then . . ."

Lauren turned away, feeling fresh tears sting her eyes. "No, nothing," she lied.

After the girl had left, the room was quiet for several minutes. Then Lauren heard a firm tread and a commanding knock on her door. When someone entered the room, Lauren knew without looking that it was Jason. Her heart hammered painfully as she turned her head so that she could see him.

With the sunlight behind him, it was hard to read his expression. There was nothing to indicate by his immaculate attire that he had spent several sleepless nights by her side while she was burning up with fever. Nor were there dark circles under his eyes or growth of beard on his chin any longer.

"Jason," Lauren whispered. "I . . . I'm sorry—"

"Now isn't the time to discuss it, Lauren," he interrupted, shocking her with his coldness. "There is someone below who has some questions to put to you. It is a matter of some importance. Sir John has been waiting several days to see you, so I'm afraid I must ask that you accommodate him. May I bring him up?" The question was asked briskly, as if he expected her agreement.

For a moment Lauren could only stare at Jason, bewildered by his distant, chillingly polite manner. She had expected anger and rage, yes, perhaps even bitterness, but not this coldness from a dispassionate stranger.

But as the silence stretched between them, Lauren's bewilderment turned to despair. She had indeed lost Jason. He couldn't forgive her for what had happened to their child—or for any of her crimes. By now he had to know she wasn't Andrea Carlin, that she had deceived him from the start. Lauren shut her eyes, feeling desolation sweep over her. She couldn't bring herself to speak, to say the words that desperately needed to be said.

But it seemed she was to be spared a confession anyway, for Jason turned abruptly on his heel and left the room. When he returned, he brought with him three men, one of whom was
Ned Sikes. He introduced the other two as Sir John Marley, a magistrate from London, and Mr.
Rorke
of Bow Street.

Jason spoke more kindly to Lauren in their presence, calling her "my dear" and helping her to sit up, but she was certain his considerateness was an act. His ministrations were mechanical, his touch impersonal, and when she searched his face, trying to read his hooded
expression,
he wouldn't meet her gaze or even look at her.

Still, Jason was a familiar figure, and Lauren felt quite alone when he moved to one corner of the room. He stood among the shadows where he could observe the proceedings.

Mr.
Rorke
took over at once, apologizing for inconveniencing her, then saying in a brisk, official tone, "Now, milady, if you will kindly tell us what occurred during your meeting with one Regina Carlin. She was your aunt, I believe. Could you
repeat,
the conversation you had with her, word for word?"

Bewildered and somewhat frightened, Lauren looked first to the magistrate, then to Ned Sikes, and finally to Jason. "Are . . . am I to be arrested?" she asked, unable to subdue the quiver in her voice.

The officials seemed surprised by her question, but Jason stiffened, a brilliant flash of anger flaring in his eyes. He answered calmly enough, though.
"No, my dear.
These gentlemen are here to obtain evidence against your aunt Regina. Sikes was a witness to your meeting with her, but your testimony is needed as well. You must tell them what was said.
The complete truth, Lauren."

There was a cold edge of irony to his tone, and although Lauren didn't understand why they should want her testimony, she knew she had to comply if she ever hoped to regain Jason's respect. She swallowed then in a shaking voice, repeated her conversation with Regina to the best of her recollection, revealing her aunt's confessions.

Out of her own mouth Regina had admitted to being Rafael's accomplice when he murdered Jonathan and Mary Carlin. She had also confessed to killing Sibyl Foster and trying to do away with Andrea Carlin so she could inherit the Carlin fortune. Mr.
Rorke
nodded solemnly as he listened, jotting down notes and occasionally interrupting with a question or two for clarification.

Lauren faltered when she came to the part where she had convinced her aunt to let her go rather than hold her for ransom. She stole a glance at Jason,
then
lowered her eyes once more. The grim set to his jaw, the tight line of his lips, told her more eloquently than words how thoroughly she had destroyed whatever love he had felt for her.

A numbing weariness engulfed Lauren as she completed her tale, and when she was done, she pulled the covers up to her chin and sank back among the pillows. Somehow she no longer cared what they did to her.

"You have our sincerest thanks, Lady
Effing
," the magistrate assured her, speaking for the first time. "Your story coincides exactly with what Sikes has been telling us. What with the evidence we already have, that should be enough to
convinct
Regina Carlin for her crimes. You have been very courageous. I know what an ordeal this must have been for you—"

"Sir John," Jason interrupted. "My wife is extremely tired, as you can see, so if you are quite finished with your questions, perhaps you will allow her to rest."

"Of course," he replied at once, and with a deep bow to Lauren, took his leave, as did
Rorke
.

Ned Sikes, however, approached Lauren hesitantly, hat in hand, his head bowed humbly. His mumbled apology for causing her grief seemed as genuine as it was uncharacteristic, but his next words only confused her. "It
were
me that asked 'is lordship not to tell you '
oo
I was," he confessed. "I thought you would act more natural-like if you didn't know it was a trap for Mistress Carlin. But . . . well, I'm fierce sorry."

Again Jason spoke. "Thank you, Ned. No one blames you."

"We should 'ha
told
'
er
."
When
Jason said nothing, Sikes quietly left the room, shutting the door behind
him.

Lauren was puzzled by Sikes's apology, but more puzzled that Jason had stayed behind. She hadn't thought he would even speak to her. Indeed, he didn't seem to be finding any joy in her company, for he had moved over to the window and was standing with his back to her, his palms facedown on the sill as he stared down at the tiny garden below.

They might have been total strangers, so great was the gulf between them. Lauren felt she had to break the terrible silence. "What . . . what happens . . . now?"

There was a long pause before Jason replied. "Regina has been arrested and charged with murder. Based on your statement, I have no doubt she will be convicted."

"What did Sikes mean? What should you have told me?"

As if the entire subject was wearisome, Jason gave a deep sigh. "It was my idea to force Regina's hand. I devised the entire plan. Regina was sure to be angry when she recognized you and realized that she'd been tricked. I had hoped she would let something slip, though I never expected to get results so quickly or so decisively."

There was another long silence while Lauren registered the significance of his confession. Then her breath caught in a gasp, and she stared at Jason's broad back, stunned. "You knew," she whispered. "All this time you knew I wasn't Andrea."

She hardly saw his slight nod. "Burroughs told me long ago," Jason said quietly. "He also told me of his suspicions concerning Regina-—about her involvement with the
Carlins
' deaths and her murder of the Foster woman. I presented what evidence we had against Regina to Sir John, but he could do nothing without more definite proof. When I found you in New Orleans, I wrote to him, and he sent Ned Sikes over. You didn't realize it, but Ned was keeping an eye on you, just in case Regina had heard of your whereabouts. Alive, you . . . Andrea posed a threat to her, or an opportunity."

When Lauren remained speechless, Jason brought a hand up to rub his forehead in a weary gesture. "As soon as we reached England, Sikes went to Regina with word of your return, hinting that you might not be Andrea. She guessed your identity, then, as I suspected she would, and couldn't resist the temptation to make another bid for the Carlin Line. From there, it was only a matter of baiting the trap and staying on top of the situation."

"Then I was the 'bait'," Lauren observed dazedly. All she could think of was how afraid she had been that Jason would discover the truth, how terrified she had been of losing him because of her deception. She could have been spared that fear, had Jason been more honest with her. But he had manipulated her, made her a pawn in his games, just the way Burroughs had done. Jason had tricked her again, just as he had when he had married her. But perhaps that had been his true motive in wedding her.

Lauren felt her throat constrict. "You needed me to come to England," she concluded in a shaking voice. "Is that why you married me, then?" When Jason didn't answer, Lauren added bitterly, "How clever you are. Now all the loose ends are neatly tied, except for me—"

"It isn't finished yet," Jason said quietly. "Rafael is still free."

Lauren clenched her hands together, her knuckles showing white. "Oh, yes.
Your promise.
I suppose you also told Burroughs you would see that Regina was punished. Did you promise to take care of me, as well?"

"I pledged to do what I could to protect you, yes."

"How well you succeeded!"

Jason spun around, pinning her with his fierce gaze. "That is quite enough, Lauren! I should have given you some indication of my plans, yes, but I counted on you to have more faith in me. Certainly I never thought you would leave without a word. Though I see now I should have expected it of you. You've let fear rule your life so long that you couldn't hope to stand up to someone like Regina."