Andrews Brothers 01 - The Ruse (13 page)

Brigitta resumed her seat and
consumed the contents of her plate. Juices from the roast beef ran along her
chin and she hurried to wipe them away. When finished, she stared at her
jailor. Who was this brother-in-law of hers, the one who continued to show up
in the oddest places?

She would play along and see
where this went.

She smeared jam on a scone. “Not
much is known about the Andrews family.”

“We are a well-kept secret,” he
said, his head lowered and his lips twitching with amusement.

“Truth be told, I don’t even know
your name.” She waited, but he didn’t respond. Placing her elbows on the table,
she bored into him with her gaze. “Why not tell your brother you’re home? Why
keep up with this, this ruse?”

He laughed softly under his
breath and raised his head. “What makes you think he doesn’t know?”

Surprised, she shrugged. “I guess
I just assumed.”

“You needn’t worry about my
brother. Chadwick takes care of himself.”

“He d-doesn’t know we’re here,
does he?”

He placed his napkin on the
table, stared at her in a serious manner, and squeezed her hand. “He doesn’t
know you’re here.”

Even while shivering with
delight, she yanked her hand away and placed it in her lap. “The duplicity of
this stunt,” but she couldn’t continue. She shook her head in weariness,
wishing she could wash her hands of the entire situation and go back to the
village.

“Let’s not dwell on it. If you
wish, we shall return posthaste.” He made as if to rise. “If you’re finished,
you may wash up and I’ll escort you back to the estate.”

“Now?” she asked.

“Yes. There is very little reason
to stay here if your ultimate goal is as you stated.”

She bit her lip. “Before we go,
perhaps I should like to walk beside the lake. Maybe you should offer it to me?”

“Hmm, I don’t know. The
temptation may be too great and—”

“Do I have to beg?” She threw her
napkin on the table.

He arched a brow.

She placed her hands in her lap
and sighed. “Sorry, I have forgotten my manners, although why I should have
manners with someone who kidnapped me is beyond my comprehension.”

“I see.”

“I mean, you have taken me from
my home in the dead of night and brought me to this dreary place. Why, I bet
the dust has gathered for well over a year.”

“At least,” he said, his lips
twitching.

“I believe I will retire to my
room and wash up. When I finish, I will gladly take that walk. Thank you for
the offer.”

He didn’t argue with her and for
that she was grateful. While she was able to assert herself more with her
brother-in-law than her husband, her bravery would only take her so far. She
would do well to remember not to push her luck.

She rose from the table and walked
toward the exit. She stopped, looked over her shoulder, and said, “Do I call a
servant or…”

“I’ll bring the water.”

“Oh.”

“There should be dresses in the
wardrobe. While they are not of the latest fashion, I’m sure you will find
something to your liking.”

Brigitta hitched her skirts and
climbed the stairs, a trifle confused by the lack of servants. Not a stranger
to taking care of her own needs, she rifled through the available gowns as her
mysterious benefactor carried pails of hot water. The tub was little more than
a bowl with a high back. She would have to sit in it and hang her legs off the
sides. Still, it was preferable to washing from a basin.

When he quit the room, Brigitta
chose a light pink gown and laid it across the bed. Quickly she used the tub,
dried, and dressed. She was just arranging her hair when he knocked.

“May I enter?”

“Yes.”

“I’m ready to escort you around
the grounds.”

Brigitta stood and scooted the
chair back beneath the dressing table. Together they descended the stairs and
walked outside. As they rounded the house, the fresh scent of pine struck her.

Treading a worn path, they
stepped from beneath overhanging limbs and the lake opened before them. Wind
lifted tendrils of her hair and created ripples across the glassy top.

“Fine afternoon for a walk,” said
Luke.

“Yes.”

“Would you mind if I asked you a
question?”

Her heart pitter-pattered against
her ribs as they continued to walk along the lake bank. What could he possibly
want to know?

He said, “You seem a most
unlikely girl to marry the baron.”

The statement left her
disappointed. “I do?”

“Yes. You aren’t at all what I
expected.”

She forced herself not to stop
and place her hands on her hips. Instead, she leaned against a broad tree trunk
and thought about removing her slippers, taking a step closer, and allowing the
water to rush over her toes. The sky was blue with white puffy clouds and she
felt as if she had entered paradise. “What did you expect?”

He watched her with a cocked
brow, and she felt a hint of pleasure.

He said, “Oh, I don’t know. I
guess I thought he would marry a voluptuous blond with crooked teeth, little
brains, and a sizable inheritance.”

She covered the giggle that
escaped her mouth.

“Tell me, how did you two meet?”

Brigitta fiddled with the folds
of her gown. She leaned down and picked up a rock. The speckled exterior caught
her attention. She turned it over in her hand before pulling her arm back and
skipping it across the lake. A smile lifted her lips. How was it possible to be
so relaxed in her brother-in-law’s presence?

Placing her hands behind her, she
said, “The story isn’t terribly interesting.”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

She told the story of running out
of firewood and entering the woods, and how Manny had delivered her to the
baron. “It was all a very frightening experience.”

“I can imagine. But what I don’t
understand is how you went from villager to being the baroness?”

Brigitta moved a strand of hair
behind her ear. “It is quite simple, really. He allowed me to stay overnight
and he spent time making me feel special, then he proposed.”

“And you said yes, just like
that?”

“Well, I did think about it for a
moment, but I did say yes.” The wind kicked up, rustling the leaves overhead,
while the silence between them grew to uncomfortable proportions. “The weather
seems to be growing particularly violent.”

“So it seems. You should be here
in the evening hours. The sun sets over the mountains and casts a halo above
the trees.”

Staring along the stretch of
river bank, she imagined the scene he set. They walked a few paces and she
bumped into his side. The feel of their hands brushing, caused her heart to
race. Quickly, she said, “Perhaps I chose the wrong time to visit.”

“Perhaps.”

“Maybe I should stay at least
until I can experience what you describe. I’m sure I won’t be missed at the
estate. The next tour isn’t until tomorrow at noon.”

“So you want to stay?”

The question was asked with a
mingling of pleasure and delight, and hope soared in Brigitta’s breast.

“I will think on it.” She looked
out over the vastness. The lake encompassed the valley for as far as the eye
could see. Frogs jumped from lily pad to lily pad. Reeds bent in the quickening
breeze. The calm clouds from before darkened and the atmosphere took on a
sinister state, much like her morphing mood. How could this be paradise when
she wasn’t with her husband but rather with her brother-in-law, a man she didn’t
really know? She gulped as her palms sweated and her heart raced. What would it
be like if he had been the one she’d married?

She didn’t look at him when she
said, “If I stay, I will need a favor.”

“You will?” he asked.

“Yes, I will.” She faced him. “I
must know your name. I cannot continue in the same vein, thinking of you as my
nameless brother-in-law throughout the evening, or I shall lose my mind.”

“And we wouldn’t want that,” he
said, his lips lifting in a grin.

She slapped his forearm
playfully, something she would never have done to Chadwick, before turning
serious. “Please, I really do want to know your name.”

“My name is Luke.”

“Luke?”

“Yes, just Luke.”

“Hmm, well, just Luke, I am glad
I know your name. It shall be much easier to yell at you now.”

He reared his head back and
laughed heartily. A sprinkle of rain struck her arm, then her head. By the time
she looked at Luke, it had become a downpour.

Grabbing her hand, he yelled, “We
must run!”

They ran to the house and entered
through the servants’ entrance in back, falling inside the door in a fit of
giggling.

“You look like a drowned kitten.”

“That bad?” she asked.

“No, that adorable.”

Heat infused her cheeks and she
turned away. “I really should go upstairs and get out of these wet clothes. It
wouldn’t do to catch an illness while I’m away from the estate.”

“Indeed not. I would be most
distressed if any harm befell you.”

She tilted her head and stared at
him. His facial expression gave nothing away. Shivers raced along her skin. “I’m
not sure what game you’re playing at and I may regret following along, but I
must say I find you extremely intriguing.”

He bowed. “I live to serve.”

She shook her head and fled
before more occurred.

****

Puddles highlighted her path to
the suite above and Luke smiled as he bent and wiped them away.

As he straightened again to his
full height, his back muscles clenched. This being a gentleman and being the
housekeeper at the same time was taking a toil. Perhaps he should consider
bringing in a few servants, if their stay seemed likely to become extensive.

Retiring to the music room, Luke
removed the drop cloths from the furniture and piled them behind the sofa. He
sat on the pianoforte bench and stroked the ivory keys. The caretaker tuned it
yearly per his request. It had been his mother’s favorite piece of furniture.
The one thing she’d brought from home when she’d married, and the one thing she’d
insisted stay in the house she’d loved the most.

Often he thought of moving it
back to the estate, just to have the memory nearer, but he always decided
against it. His mother would have wanted it to stay here. His throat closed off
and he stood and walked to the long windows facing the lake. The music room had
been his favorite place as a child. He would sit in a high-backed chair,
cuddled under a thick blanket, and listen to his mother play tune after tune
until she ordered him to bed. His father would be in the room across the hall,
working on estate business, but he’d always kept his door open and urged his
wife to keep playing, even after she tired of the exercise.

Placing his hand on the cool
glass, he released a sigh. What was he doing? Brigitta wanted to be at the
estate. She wanted to influence the baron. Poor soul. What would she do if she
knew she wasn’t even married? What would she do if she discovered that Roland
and Chadwick had tricked her? What would she do if she knew that even now, she
influenced the true baron?

He needed to think of a way to
tell her the truth, without letting on that he’d known of her deception all
along.

Sudden fluid music poured into
the room around him. Enchanted, he closed his eyes and allowed the sound to
flood his soul. Forcing himself to turn slowly so as not to scare her away, he
faced Brigitta. Her fingers captivated him with their grace and elegance as
they drifted across the pianoforte’s keys.

“Don’t look so stunned. I may
have been raised in the village, but I do have certain accomplishments.”

“Yes, I can see that.”

“My father worked on pianofortes.”

“Ah.”

“And my mother played at church.”

“I see.”

“You could say I was born to
play.” The smile that lifted her lips carried all the way to her eyes and his
heart threatened to explode. The picture she presented reminded him so much of
his mother, he almost found a blanket and curled up on a nearby chair.

“Is there a tune you particularly
like? I might be able to play it.”

He mentioned
Love in a Village
and she struck the keys. It was the moment he knew he couldn’t live without
her. He had to find a way to release her from her position. He had to find a
way to marry her and make her the baroness for real.

****

Lady Vonda laughed as she laid
down the winning hand. “I heard you were a gamer, but I couldn’t believe it.”

“Vonda, please be quiet, I have a
terrible pain in my head.”

She laughed. “I can see why. You
owe me, what now, about ten thousand pounds?”

He groaned.

Lady Vonda leaned back in the
velvet brocade chair. Her parlor, which had once seemed light and airy, was now
closing in on him. Shadows flashed across the curtained windows, darkening the
room and matching his darkening mood.

“Not to mention the money you owe
Lord John.” She tilted her head and dropped a grape into her mouth. “I’m sorry
to say he is not quite as forgiving as I.”

Chadwick eased to his feet. Like
a coiled snake, he sprang and swept his arm across the gaming table’s top. Lady
Vonda jumped, raised her hands as if startled, and then laughed hysterically.

“Temper, temper. And to believe
they say
your wife
is the one who steals the show.”

Chadwick ignored the jab, grabbed
his hat from the footman’s hands, rammed it on his head, and stalked out her
front door without even giving her a good day. Strong drink loosened the tongue
and during his game perhaps he’d shared more of his ruse than he should have.
What had possessed him to tell Lady Vonda that he wasn’t really married to
Brigitta? When would he learn to keep his mouth shut?