The Secret Kiss of Darkness (5 page)

It was his burgundy-red jacket – or coat as it was probably called in those days – which had first caught her eye. Threadbare and worn in places, it was definitely not the sort of thing an aristocrat would have worn unless he was slumming it around his estate, although from the man’s arrogant stance you could be forgiven for thinking him a ‘Sir’ at the very least. Despite the obvious scruffiness of the material, however, the artist had managed to give the illusion of soft, worn velvet. It looked so perfect that Kayla wanted to touch it, to trail her fingers along the sleeve and feel its smoothness.
And the hard muscle underneath.
Without thinking she stretched out a hand towards the canvas, but pulled it back at the last moment. She shook her head, which felt as if it was stuffed full of cotton wool. How was it possible to create such an image with only a few strokes of a brush and some paint?

She tried to study the man with detachment, but her eyes drank him in, etching his face into her brain forever. He had strong, rough-hewn features which appeared to have been weathered by the elements since his complexion was very dark. The artist hadn’t done anything to embellish his looks, but had painted the real man, exactly as he must have seen him. This included tiny crow’s feet radiating from the corners of his eyes and deep laughter lines on either side of his mouth. A shining, blue-black ponytail fell over one shoulder, adding to the overall obscurity of the portrait. The man stared at Kayla with a half-smile playing about his mouth, as if he knew something she didn’t and was amused by her confusion.

‘Why are you looking at me like that?’ she whispered, then closed her eyes to break the spell. He had to go. There was nothing else for it. But until she could arrange for Sotheby’s to take the painting back he would have to stay where he was. ‘I’m sorry, but I’ve got to leave you now. Mike’s taking me out to dinner.’ She sighed. ‘Hell, now I’m talking to a painting! I must be going mad.’

The thought sent a chill through her, but she shook it off. She was just a bit emotional at the moment, which wasn’t to be wondered at.

‘I’ll be fine,’ she muttered, then glanced at the portrait one last time. ‘And you’re not staying.’

But the man’s smile seemed to mock her and she had to force herself to turn her back on him.

The summer house was too close to Marcombe Hall and Jago didn’t want to run the risk of being caught. Not that he was scared of his half-brother, who was much smaller than he was and weak besides. Jago doubted John had ever taken any exercise in his life and, from what he had observed, the man was far too keen on his food. No, it was for Eliza he was afraid. He knew that if they were caught, Eliza would be the one to suffer, and that he couldn’t allow.

They went sailing along the coast instead and had brought a huge picnic so they could stay out all day. To Jago, the south Devon coastline was as familiar as his own home and there were plenty of secluded coves where they could spend their day undisturbed. A blanket on the soft sand made the perfect mattress for love-making, and he delighted in showing Eliza everything she’d been missing out on. She learned fast.

‘Oh, Jago, I’m so glad I ran into you that night,’ she whispered one afternoon. ‘I was contemplating something terrible, something I shouldn’t have, but you saved me. Gave me a purpose in life once more. Thank you.’ She leaned over to stroke his rough cheek with her soft fingers. He caught them with one hand and nibbled playfully on the ends.

‘I suppose it was meant to be. The Lord works in mysterious ways, they say, and this is certainly beyond my ken.’

Eliza hung her head. ‘Yes, but do you really think this was the Lord’s work? I mean, we’re committing one of the cardinal sins, aren’t we? Or I am, at any rate.’

He gathered her close. ‘Hush, my love, it can’t be that great a sin and from what I hear it’s a very common thing in London, especially in the noble families. Everyone marries for duty and then finds love elsewhere. Besides, your husband doesn’t deserve you, in my opinion, if he can’t treat you as he ought.’

She gave a shaky laugh. ‘I do hope you’re right, but if not, well, I’m willing to take the risk of eternal damnation. For you I would risk anything.’

‘As would I for you, my love.’

The restaurant Mike had chosen was of the small, but expensive variety with intimate tables in little corners behind huge pot plants. It boasted an impressive seafood menu, which he knew Kayla liked, and she smiled warmly at him, feeling guilty for neglecting him all week.
And for spending hours gazing at another man
, the little voice inside her head added. She ignored it. What harm could it do after all? He would soon be gone and out of her life. It was Mike she loved and Mike she was marrying. It meant nothing more than Mike’s blatant admiration for a certain busty actress on television. It was a fantasy. A daydream.

Kayla put all thoughts of the man in the painting out of her mind and concentrated on Mike and reality. ‘This is a lovely place,’ she told him and he looked pleased at her praise, as he prided himself on his excellent taste when it came to restaurants.

‘Yes, isn’t it? Only just opened a couple of weeks ago.’ He studied the menu gravely, as if the choice of food was a matter of the greatest importance. ‘Derek and I had lunch here last week and I would recommend the oysters, followed by Dover sole Walewska or the lobster in Mornay sauce.’

Kayla wasn’t too keen on oysters. To her mind they tasted only of seawater with lemon added to it and she really couldn’t see the attraction, but she decided to humour him for once. She didn’t precisely hate them either and if it would help to keep Mike in a good mood, then so much the better.

‘All right, oysters it is, then and, uhm … the Walewska, please.’

Mike beamed at her and ordered the same, plus an expensive white wine, which tasted fresh and fruity, just the way Kayla liked it. They had a very nice meal, during which they discussed various aspects of the upcoming wedding in perfect harmony. But over dessert, Kayla decided to broach a subject that she’d been mulling over for some time.

‘Mike, I’ve been thinking. I would like to switch jobs with one of the other secretaries after we’re married. Working together can’t be very good for our relationship in the long run, so I thought I’d speak to Human Resources about it soon and ask for a transfer. What do you …?’ She trailed off as she saw the expression of incredulity on his face.

‘What on earth are you talking about? I swear you’re becoming more difficult to understand every day. This wedding stuff must be really getting to you.’ He was growing red in the face and Kayla braced herself for an explosion. She didn’t have long to wait. ‘Do you mean to say I’m a bad boss? Is that it? And there was I thinking we’d always had a good working relationship. Well, what do I know?’

‘No, Mike, calm down. That’s not what I meant at all. You’re getting the wrong end of the stick.’ Kayla tried to explain. ‘We
have
worked well together. Extremely well, in fact. It’s just that when we’re married we are supposed to be partners, equals, but in the office you’re always the boss. It doesn’t feel right to have to follow your orders all day long and—’

Mike cut her off, shaking his head in disbelief. ‘No, I’m not having this. How will it look if my own wife doesn’t want to work for me? Huh? For Christ’s sake, Kayla, use your brain.’

‘Really, Mike, there’s no need to be like that.’ Kayla was clenching her fists in her lap and glaring at him. ‘I
am
using my brain and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with it. It’s every bit as good as yours. Only you don’t seem to be able to listen to other people’s arguments once you’ve made up your mind about something.’

‘Hah! That’s rich coming from you. Who was it that wouldn’t listen to
my
arguments about buying a stupid painting with your aunt’s legacy?’

‘Oh, here we go. I knew we’d come back to that again sooner or later.’ Kayla rolled her eyes and sighed, even though he did actually have a point there.

‘Well, you won that round, but you’re not winning this one. Either you stay on as my secretary or you’ll have to go and work in another practice. It would be too embarrassing otherwise.’

‘I’ve been there longer than you have. By two years, in fact. So you can move, if it bothers you so much!’

‘That’s beside the point. And I’m a partner now, I can’t just up and leave.’

‘And I can? Because I’m
only
a secretary?’ Kayla was trying her best to keep her temper in check, but Mike was going too far.

‘Well, it is rather different, you must agree.’

Kayla stood up. ‘I’m going to the ladies’ room.’ She was shaking now with both anger and frustration. Why couldn’t Mike understand what she meant? Or was it that he just didn’t want to?

When she returned he’d obviously realised that he had overdone things. He held out his hand until she reluctantly placed hers on the palm. ‘I’m sorry. Maybe you’re right and it’s something we need to think about, but perhaps not straight away? It really would look bad, you know, if you abandon me the minute we’ve tied the knot.’

Kayla didn’t agree but his olive branch was too large to ignore so she nodded. ‘Yes, okay, maybe we can talk about it in a couple of months or so. I guess it’s not that urgent.’

He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. ‘That’s my girl.’

And then he changed the topic of conversation as if the argument had never happened.

Kayla let him as she didn’t want to spoil the evening further. By the time the coffee was served, however, she was beginning to feel distinctly queasy. Mike frowned at her, obviously noticing that something was wrong.

‘What’s the matter? You’ve gone all pale. Did you eat too much? Maybe having clotted cream was overkill? You should have had ice cream with your strawberries.’

‘No, no, I didn’t eat that much, and in fact I left half the cream. I just don’t feel very well, Mike. Do you think those oysters were off?’

‘No way. Mine were perfect. If they’d been off you would’ve smelled them a mile away. You must be sickening for something. Come on, I’ll take you home.’

Kayla hardly noticed as he took care of the bill and propelled her out to a taxi. She was grateful for his arm round her waist, steering her in the right direction, and merely concentrated on breathing deeply so as not to be sick. She didn’t want to disgrace herself in public.

Mike insisted on accompanying her into the flat, by which time she had started to shake uncontrollably. He guided her over towards the sofa. Halfway there, however, he stopped dead in his tracks and his mouth fell open as he stared at the enormous painting facing them.

‘What the hell? Kayla, is that what you bought at the auction the other day? I don’t believe it.’ Mike couldn’t seem to take his eyes off the man in the portrait. He stared at the fierce blue eyes, apparently as mesmerised as Kayla herself had been, but instead of being impressed by it he looked distinctly uncomfortable. The painting was life-size after all and its subject had been a big man, maybe six foot two or three. He certainly dwarfed Mike, who unconsciously ran a finger around the inside of his collar as if it suddenly felt too tight.

‘Yes, isn’t he gorgeous?’ Kayla tried to joke, but followed this with a groan while she clutched her stomach and sank onto the sofa. ‘I just had to buy him as there’s a possibility he’s a distant relation of mine. Remember Uncle David’s family tree? I’m pretty sure he’s on there somewhere.’ She hated having to lie like this, but she didn’t think the truth would go down too well right now, if ever. And who knew, it could be true, couldn’t it? Stranger things had happened.

Mike’s eyes were still glued to the painting and he didn’t seem to be listening.

Kayla swore inwardly. This wasn’t quite the way she had envisaged breaking the news to him. They were supposed to be spending the weekend at his flat, and she had planned to bring up the subject when he was in a particularly good mood. Now it was too late, but at the moment she really couldn’t care less. She had other more important matters on her mind. Such as rotten oysters. Just the thought of them made her shudder. She swallowed hard as bile rose in her throat.

‘Gorgeous? What do you mean?’ Mike turned to look at her through narrowed eyes. ‘Are you telling me you find the man in the picture attractive? Is that why you bought it? You fancy him?’

‘No, of course not, Mike. I was kidding. Sorry, bad joke.’

‘You told me you were buying something for investment. Something that would give you a return on your money if you sold it in a few years’ time. You never said anything about portraits of good-looking men. Don’t think for a minute you can hang this on the walls of my flat.’ Mike’s own boyish good looks were marred by a petulant expression worse than any Kayla had ever seen before.

‘I wasn’t going to. It’s staying here when I rent my flat out.’

‘Damn right it is!’

‘Anyway, don’t you mean
our
flat?’ Kayla asked sarcastically, clutching a cushion to her aching belly. ‘Really, Mike, don’t be silly. I think it’ll be worth loads in a couple of years, that’s why I bought it. Or I might be able to sell it to Uncle David if we can prove the connection.’ She crossed her fingers underneath the cushion. After all, there was no need to tell Mike exactly what effect the painting had on her. Nor that she had already decided to return it. And surely a person had a right to her own private dreams even after marriage? Or was that forbidden?

‘I just don’t believe this.’ Mike was shaking his head, glaring at the picture. ‘You know what? This is going back where it came from. I’m not letting you squander your money like that. How much did you pay for it anyway?’

‘That’s none of your business, Mike.’

‘Oh, really? I suppose that means it was much too expensive. So you expect me to pay for the honeymoon on my own, do you?’ He threw up his hands in a theatrical gesture. ‘This is just great. We’ll be starting married life in debt at this rate. As if I don’t have enough problems.’

‘What problems? And I didn’t say it was that expensive.’ Another white lie, so she continued to keep her fingers crossed.

Mike ignored her interruption. ‘Well, there’s only one thing for it,’ he announced.

‘What?’ A wave of nausea rolled over Kayla and she winced.

‘You can take it right back to Sotheby’s and buy something else instead. Some little still life or landscape or something that
we
can have on the walls of
our
flat, and perhaps pass on to
our
children one day.’ His way of imitating her sarcasm in such a childish fashion was really getting on Kayla’s nerves. Besides, she was starting to feel extremely ill and she didn’t need this hassle right now. It was too much. Rebellion stirred inside her. She clenched her jaw and prepared for battle.

‘I’m
not
taking the painting back, Mike, and that’s final. I like it and I bought it with my own money. I’ll keep it somewhere other than in our home if you hate it so much, but I’m not selling it. Ever!’ She wanted to shout, but kept her voice at a steely low pitch instead, which always had more effect on Mike.

‘I see.’ The expression on Mike’s face was getting uglier by the minute. ‘So you’re telling me my views don’t count? You’d rather own a portrait of a man who’s been dead for hundreds of years than listen to the man you supposedly love?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. This is a totally stupid argument and I really don’t feel well enough for this right now. Can’t we talk about it tomorrow, please?’