38Chapter Thirty-two: The Last Walk
"But this is paradise!" Lady Jane Bellaston sat up straight in her chair and waved her bejeweled hand, the single possessive gesture taking in the palm trees, the outdoor pool, and the huge colonial mansion that loomed over the flowery well-kept grounds. "How can you be homesick in a place like this?"
"I miss Mark." Louise Marchese let out a deep breath, feeling a huge weight slide off her shoulders. All week long, she'd been struggling to forget the past and enjoy her Caribbean holiday. Checking out the local music scene with Sir Holland, shopping with Lady Jane, dancing and playing tennis with sexy young men, the dark-eyed beauty kept a bright smile pasted on her lovely face. But all the enjoyment in the world couldn't keep her from feeling empty and unsatisfied when she was alone. It was no use pretending she'd forgotten him. Even when she was resting on a lounge, half-asleep in the hot sun, Mark Ryder was on her mind. Desire and longing burned like a fever in her blood.
"You miss the excitement, the thrill of being a secret agent." Lady Jane's hawlike eyes fixed themselves on Louise's reclining figure. "I've got an idea! Why don't we take a hike up the seaside trail? The view from the high cliffs is thrilling."
"My husband does not like heights." Louise chuckled, thinking of fat Sir Holland huffing and puffing and struggling up the trail. The two of them had laughed together about his fear of heights, drinking afterwards in a local cafe. What a truly kind man he was!
"This will be just us girls," Lady Jane promised, pushing her feet into a pair of floppy sandals. "I'm going indoors," she said, rising to her feet. "I need to freshen up a bit before we go on our hike. Do you need anything? Another drink, perhaps?"
"Mm." Louise didn't answer. Lady Jane was the energetic type. Next to her, everyone else felt quite lazy. Sleepy all of a sudden.
Inside the house, Lady Jane found Sir Holland Dozier-Holland alone in the music room, listening to the local rock band he'd recorded the night before.
"Louise will love this," he said to himself, humming along happily. But he looked up to see Lady Jane frowning down on him.
"Stop playing with that silly sound mixing board," she scolded. "I need you to be at the airport when the American agent turns up. Remember the part you have to play. You've been looking for Louise everywhere, and you're frantic with worry."
"I won't let you hurt my wife," the older man mumbled. He rose heavily to his feet, but he was old, and he'd been drinking, and his movements were slow and clumsy. Lady Jane danced to one side and then shoved him off balance, pinning him against the wall.
"Now you listen to me," she hissed, groping into his trousers and twisting until he howled in pain. "Louise is not your wife. She's a whore. You're too old to need a wife anyway. We both know that. The French whore dies or we both go to jail. Do you understand?"
"Please," Sir Holland begged. Jane had been his lover years ago, coaxing him into investments that depleted his family fortune. Now she had total control over his finances, as well as a cruel grip on his private parts. He was too old for love-making. But he loved Louise. And the pain was incredible. He'd never felt so helpless.
"Do as you're told, darling." Jane kissed him, stroking away the pain and cooing into his ear. It was horrible to remember wanting her. But the tall, red-haired woman had once been almost as beautiful as Louise. "Do as you're told. Or you'll be next."
A few hours later . . .
Louise turned over and stretched, awakened by a light tap on her shoulder. "Where's Dozy?"
"I sent Sir Holland to the airport," Lady Jane said briskly. "I'm expecting some visitors. One of them's an old friend of yours."
"An old friend?" Louise felt a little flutter of ridiculous hope. Could it be Mark? But what was the use? She was a married woman. And she'd told the press that Mark was no good. A crooked spy!
Lady Jane smiled, reading the confused look on Louise's sleepy, sun-browned face. "I'll explain everything, darling. But first, let's take a little walk up the seaside trail. To clear your head."
"All right." Louise didn't really feel like exercising. But when Lady Jane talked about explaining things she forced herself to get up. It was time she started taking responsibility and behaving like a lady of substance. After all, she wasn't a whore anymore. She was Sir Holland's wife. That meant more than any foolish passion.
"Careful, darling." Louise stumbled, and Lady Jane caught her arm in a firm grip. The two women left the stately private garden, and soon they were walking up the narrow seaside trail.