The Duke's Affair

XXIV

Tony paused the tape and Lauren blinked, as though waking from a vivid dream.

"But -" Tony rolled his eyes and Lauren fell silent.

"I knew it was you on that tape. And I knew you would never get over it if it went public, regardless of Henry and everything else. Irrespective of what happened to him, I didn't care about that," - he shook his head - "but I cared about what happened to you. About what it would do to you." For a moment Tony was silent, and Lauren wondered if he wanted her to speak. "With the media what it is now, I knew you would never escape the shame. The scandal. That would follow you for the rest of your life. You would never get away from it."

The truth of Tony's words seemed to burn through Lauren, turning her clothes to cinders and ash, leaving her exposed and naked before him. She felt tears well in her eyes but blinked them away.

"I went to the house one day when I was working in London. I told the housekeeper I was there to fix a door frame and some skirting and she let me right in. I was in my overalls and I had a tool bag with me. I said Henry had sorted it. Or Annabel. I can't quite remember. But I went straight to the bedroom and started banging about, slipped the tape into my bag and replaced it with another. And that was it. Easy as pie." Tony pulled the tape out of his pocket again and threw it to Lauren, who caught it. "You want to watch it?" he asked.

"You've seen it?"

Tony grimaced and looked away. "It's would have been an incredible feat to deny myself at least one screening. I'm sorry." He hung his head for a second and then looked up at her. "I watched it."

Lauren bit her bottom lip and turned the tape over in her hands. "Yes, I want to see it. But not with you in here. Can you put it on for me?" She held it out to him and he nodded as he took it and loaded it up.

"I'll be downstairs," he said, once he had showed her how it worked. On the way out he rested his hand on her shoulder, and the weight of it felt more like a judgement than a comfort. Lauren shrugged it off and waited for him to leave before she pressed play.

She felt such a rush of nerves as she began to watch that she felt her bowels might betray her. She found it hard to breathe, as though her windpipe was constricted, some external force pinching it together. She watched as she entered the room, as Henry pinned her against the door, her mask tossed on the ground. And how he lifted her to the bed and made love to her. As she watched, at once both repelled and enthralled, she remember how it felt to be near him, to be held and kissed, to feel his weight on her. How close they had been to having something that had worked, something wonderful. Henry had made her feel as now man had before and, she supposed, as no one ever would again.

When it was over, she sat back and stared at the blank screen. Such a short encounter, causing all these problems. All because of that tiny bit of footage, their relationship had been destroyed. And Henry had been right, it would have destroyed them both. It was dark and so patently an encounter in a secret place. A place set up for such encounters. She looked like nothing but a hooker in a fancy costume, and to an outsider it would look as though he had treated her as such. There was no sound, no way of knowing what they spoke of or to hear the true emotion escaping through the tone of their voices. No way of knowing if her moans were of pleasure or pain.

In the wrong hands, the tape would have been dangerous. Very dangerous.

But what did Tony plan to do with it? Was he going to use it against her? Surely not. But irrespective of her faith in him she took the tape out and put it in the pocket of her jeans. Jeans which, she realised, would soon not fit if she kept this baby. She slid her thumbs around the waistband, pulling it out, and stroked her stomach. Then she stood up and tapped the pocket with the tape inside and went downstairs.