Stranger in My Arms(52)

“Extremely odd,” Lara agreed grimly. “After becoming a widow and allowing myself to believe I would never again be bothered with men and their distasteful urges, I find myself in the position of having to sleep with Hunter again.” She curled herself into a tight ball on the chair and stared glumly at the fine, luxurious surroundings of Rachel’s parlor.

“It’s even more dreadful to know about it so far in advance.”

Rachel stared at her in a sort of fascinated sympathy. “Do you intend to keep your promise?”

“Of course not,” Lara said promptly. “I want you to help me think of a plan. That’s why I came to visit.”

Obviously flattered and pleased that her older sister would value her ideas, Rachel set aside her needlework and concentrated on the problem.

“I suppose you could make yourself so unattractive that he would no longer desire you,” she said. “Or go catch the pox from someone, and hope it spreads over your face.”

Lara wrinkled her nose. “I’m not especially fond of that idea.”

Rachel began to wax enthusiastic about the project.

“You could feign illness.”

“That would only work for so long.”

“Perhaps there is some way to render him impotent-some herb or powder we could give him.”

Lara considered the suggestion doubtfully. “I shouldn’t want to risk making him ill… and it seems a very tricky plan. I would be so nervous that I would end up giving the whole thing away.”

“Hmm.” Picking up a stray skein of blue silk, Rachel wound it around her finger. “Perhaps,” she said hesitantly, “you should just give yourself to him for one night and be done with it.”

“I won’t be used that way,” Lara said, suddenly fierce. “I won’t be a convenience or a possession.”

“I must disagree, Larissa. I don’t know where you’ve gotten these strange ideas. Lord Hawksworth is your husband. You belong to him.

You vowed to obey him.”

“I did obey him. I followed his wishes concerning my behavior and the company I kept. I asked his permission for everything. I tolerated his adultery and I never once denied him my bed. But then he left for India, and for three years I only had myself to please… and I can’t go back to the way it was.”

“You may have to,” Rachel murmured. “Unless we can come up with a suitable plan to divert him.”

They were both silent for a long time. Their unspoken thoughts were underscored by the pounding of the heavy saturating rain outside as it splashed on the graveled drive and streamed down the windowpanes. A gray, dolorous day, matching Lara’s mood to perfection.

Finally Lara spoke. “The only thing that makes sense is to find someone else that Hunter will desire more than me. Then he’ll be so besotted over his new discovery that he’ll forget all about our bargain.”

“But… didn’t he say that you are the only woman he wants?”

“He didn’t mean it,” Lara said shortly. “I know from past experience that Hunter isn’t capable of restricting himself to one woman. He likes variety. He enjoys the conquest.”

“Whom are you going to find?” Rachel asked.

“What kind of woman will be irresistible to him?”

“That’s the easy part,” Lara said, going to stand by the window, watching the sheets of rain whipping down from the sky. “You know, Rachel, I think this plan has half a chance of working.”

Chapter 13

THE ROADS HAD turned to mud by the time Lara left the Lonsdale estate.

The heavy chaise and four moved sluggishly through the mire, making slow progress past sodden pastures, farms, and prickly hedgerows planted to keep cattle from wandering. It seemed impossible that the rain should keep falling so heavily, but it struck the roof of the carriage as if someone were dumping buckets of water on them.

Concerned for the comfort of the horses, driver, and footman, Lara wished that she had waited to visit her sister until the weather was clear. It had been ill advised to venture out during a spring rain-but who would have expected such a deluge?

She leaned forward in her seat as if she could will the carriage to reach its destination without mishap.

The wheels dragged over the road, sinking into soft, mud-filled ruts while the horses strained to pull the vehicle forward. Suddenly the carriage gave a peculiar lurch and settled in a diagonal tilt, throwing Lara across the seat in a sprawl. She sat up and struggled to reach the door, wondering what had happened.

The door opened, water and wind blasting in as the footman’s worried face appeared. “Are you injured, milady?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” she said hastily. “What about you, George? And Mr. Colby?”

“We’re all right, milady. There was a hole in the road-the carriage is stuck. Mr. Colby says we’re not far from Market Hill, though. If it pleases you, we’ll unhitch the horses, and I’ll go to Hawksworth Hall for a lighter vehide. Mr. Colby will stay here until I return.”

“That sounds like a good plan. Thank you, George.

Please tell Mr. Colby to wait inside the carriage with me, as he will be much more comfortable.”

“Yes, milady.” The footman closed the door, conferred with the driver, and returned in a minute.