Andrews Brothers 01 - The Ruse (15 page)

“What are you doing out here?”

Back inside the kitchen, he shed
his cloak and boots. Brigitta stared wide-eyed. Who would have thought such a
gentleman could behave in such an outrageous manner?

“Well, what do you have to say
for yourself? And do take off those muddy slippers. I will have to spend hours
cleaning the floor.”

She stared at him with her jaw
hanging open. He scolded her worse than her parents ever had.

“Didn’t you hear me, Brigitta?”
He peered at her suddenly and took a deep breath, the anger falling from his
face. Then he stepped forward, as if afraid to frighten her, and massaged her
upper arms. She trembled. “Poor soul, you are freezing. I would have brought
wood, but unfortunately there is none cut and I don’t believe I can rectify the
situation in this storm. I will turn my back, and you must remove your gown and
hurry upstairs to change.”

As soon as his back faced her,
she removed her filthy slippers, lifted her skirts, and quietly ran upstairs,
still clothed.

Changed and back downstairs,
Brigitta hid in the stairwell and listened to Luke’s mutterings. On his knees,
he scrubbed the kitchen floor and muttered, “What to do? What to do? Where has
the wood gone? There was always wood in the shed before. This is intolerable. I
shall have to go into the forest and cut my own wood. Then I must cook our
supper and now I’m on my knees cleaning floors. This can only mean one thing.”
He leaned back on his haunches. “I have truly lost my mind.”

Heaven help her, she was locked
up with a crazy man.

“Brigitta, do come out of hiding.”

She started.

“Yes, I know you are there. I can
hear you thinking from here.”

“Humph.” She walked into the room
and took a seat at the table, drumming her fingers upon the well-used butcher
block.

He leaned back and looked at her.
“I wonder what is going on in that head of yours.”

“I’ll be glad to tell you.”

“I’m quite sure you will.”

“What is going on in my head is a
wonder at why so fine a house is left empty? No staff, no owner. Have you
broken in?” Luke suddenly found a stain of particular interest and the
intensity of his scrubbing increased. “I see how it is. I ask a question you
don’t wish to answer, and you proceed to clean in order to ignore me.”

He abandoned the stain, sat back,
and narrowed his eyes. “I know another who does the same.”

She placed her fluttering hand
over her heart, deciding that being concerned with her behavior around Luke was
utterly ridiculous. “Who, me?”

“Yes, you,” he said as he stood
and dusted off his knees. Taking a seat across from her, he asked, “How does a
girl from a small village speak with such an elegant air?”

Brigitta squeezed her hands.

“Not going to answer me? Just
going to clench your hands and pretend I didn’t speak?”

She sighed and lifted her chin. “I
told you my father worked on pianofortes.”

“Yes.”

“His work placed him in
interesting places and I often tagged along.”

“And?”

“And, I listened. My mother
always told me I was nosy.”

“So you watched and learned from
those around you?”

“Yes.”

“So you learned how to appear
elegant by being around those with elegance.”

“And I read.”

“Ah, reading is a worthwhile
pursuit.” He paused, tapped his chin and said, “Earlier, when I asked why you
followed me outside, I don’t remember receiving an answer.”

“I did not give an answer.”

He stood, cleaned his hands, and
set about pulling dishes from the cabinets. “And why not?’

She leaned against the table. “Quite
frankly, if you must know the truth—”

“I must.”

“Well, I was in a bit of shock.
You’ve not spoken to me so harshly since we’ve been acquainted and I didn’t
know what to say.”

He frowned with an expression of
confusion and stopped working.

“As for what I was doing
following you, my answer can only be the truth, which is that I feared you were
leaving me.”

“Leaving you?”

“Yes.”

Luke slid away from the counter
and knelt at her feet. “I would die a thousand deaths before I left you.”

She blinked rapidly, her throat
clenched. She shouldn’t feel this way. He was her brother-in-law. Guilt-ridden,
she needed to get away. She tried to escape, but his body hemmed her in place.
The look of longing he gave her caused her heart to race and her breath to grow
shallow. She fanned her face.

His charming smile spread across
his lips. “I see I have embarrassed you.”

“Yes, you have.” She dipped her
chin; her hair fell forward and covered her face, as a glow started to grow
within her.

“It is not my intent to embarrass
you.”

“Then what is your intent? You’ve
kept me locked up and yet I know not the reason.”

“I told you I meant to rescue
you.”

“And I told you I am precisely
where I want to be.”

Hurriedly, he stood. “Pshaw! I
highly doubt you desire to be in a loveless relationship, even if you do live
in a prestigious manor.”

“And I told you I consider it my
duty—”

“Duty!” He paced the kitchen. “I
have had my fill of duty. That will not be your excuse to deny what I feel for
you.”

With a hoarse whisper, she asked,
“And what is that?”

She gnawed on her lip as she
waited for him to say the words. Instead, he ran an agitated hand through his
hair. Without looking at her, he grabbed his cloak, threw it over his
shoulders, and opened the back door. “I need to find wood or we won’t be
eating. Please stay inside.”

The door clicked shut and she
wept with stark disappointment.

****

The road to the summer house by
the lake was fraught with peril on the best of days, but taking it during a
storm might be considered a fool’s errand.

Driving the curricle, Chadwick
deftly guided the horses along the mud-slicked road. Roland had argued the
folly of such a trip but he had refused to listen. The sooner he returned
Brigitta to the manse, the better for them all.

Being around the young woman for
overly long could give Luke ideas. Besides, the estate needed the funds from
the tours. Perhaps it was past time he be honest with Brigitta. She was a
rational girl. If he told her the truth, that the estate might fall or that he
would need to increase the villagers’ rents until they bled coins, then perhaps
she would be willing to do as he asked.

He flicked the whip against the
horses’ rumps but the heavy rain protected them from the sting and they failed
to move any faster. Frustrated, Chadwick whipped harder but to little avail.

The storm raged. The rain
outwitted his cloak and soaked his clothing beneath. As it increased in
intensity, visibility diminished. Even the lanterns that swung at the curricle’s
sides didn’t offer enough light and he began to fear he would lose his
direction.

Up ahead, the tiniest pinprick of
light shone. Pushing the horses with yelled curses, he drove toward the light.

A wheel slipped into a rut and he
urged the team to slow, but as they had listened before, they listened again,
and his command was ignored. The next rut was severely larger and the wheel hit
hard enough to dislodge him and throw him from the high seat into the air.

The entire episode felt like a
bad dream. He tumbled and landed on the muddy road. The curricle wheel barely
missed his head as it rolled past. Addled, he jumped to his feet and shook his
clenched fist at the fleeing horses, the rain still pouring over him.

Bent over, he caught his breath
before striking out on foot for the light that still drifted like a lifeboat in
the distance.

****

The rain slackened. Luke found an
ax in the shed and walked to the edge of the wood. Selecting a sapling, he set
to chopping. Sweat gathered on his forehead and dribbled into his shirt collar.

In the shelter of the hanging
tree limbs, Luke removed his cloak, coat, and shirt. The rain mingled with his
sweat and cooled his flushed skin.

Every whack of the ax he counted
as therapy. He had almost completely revealed his feelings for Brigitta. After
their less than mutual kiss, he shouldn’t tell her too soon. She might shun him
for flirting with a married woman. She might even demand he take her home
instantly.

Of course, the rain would have
caused the trip to be quite impossible. The summer home’s poorly maintained
roads would be slick with mud and no carriage would make it away from the house
for days. But she would likely not believe such a story, thinking he wanted to
keep her for himself. And that part of her would be correct.

He paused, leaned on the ax handle,
and lifted his chin to the sky. Raindrops trickled down his face and lips. He
sucked the liquid into his mouth and wished for a cool drink.

The work was exhausting and he
considered himself in fairly decent condition. Perhaps there was an art to
chopping wood that he had yet to master. Maybe when he arrived back in
Stockport, he would take lessons. He laughed under his breath.

There would probably be little
reason to do so. He highly doubted he would be kidnapping another female and
carting her off to the summer estate. His mother had always said that once he
gave his heart away, he would never offer it again, and she had been correct.
Brigitta had taken his heart by accident, but it did belong to her, and would
never belong to another.

The rain stopped, the dark clouds
cleared away, and the sun rose high in the sky and beat upon his back as he
continued to work at the tree. At last the trunk gave way and fell. How long it
took to cut into pieces, Luke didn’t know. By the time he finished, he was
exhausted and ready to collapse.

He gathered his soaked, sweaty
clothing and pulled his shirt over his head, allowing it to hang open. The
cloak and coat he carried underneath several logs. The wood he placed on the
back porch before stepping into the kitchen.

Brigitta stood, her hands folded
neatly in front of her, a pleased smile on her face. The small round table
sported a prepared meal and two place settings.

For a reason unbeknownst to him,
her smile faded and she lowered her gaze to the floor. “I fixed lunch.”

“I see. Thank you.”

“I thought you might be hungry
after working.”

“I am.” He dropped into a seat
and grabbed a spoon, preparing to shovel soup into his mouth. She cleared her
throat and he looked up.

“Yes?”

“Well, don’t you want to wash up?
Perhaps close your shirt before you eat?”

He flashed his most wicked grin
as he placed his spoon back in its place, stood, and approached slowly, hoping
he wouldn’t scare her away. He looked into her pale blue eyes and tweaked her
nose. Shock widened her eyes. He laughed as he quit the room and headed
upstairs.

****

Luke’s laughter still rang long
after he had left the kitchen. She was frozen in place. In her mind, all she
could see was Luke, standing in the doorway with his shirt open. She would
never be able to erase the image.

She fell into her seat and
cradled her head. She must erase the image. She must! Whatever would happen if
the baron finally allowed her residence in his room? The image would be
imprinted in her mind and she would never look at her husband as she should.

A groan ripped from her. Oh, why
had she ever tried to escape? Patience was a virtue and if she’d found more of
it, then she wouldn’t be in this impossible situation.

Brigitta needed to speak with
Luke immediately. She would demand he return her to the estate. But outside the
sun shone, and she opened the back door and absorbed the warmth.

“You shouldn’t stand in the sun
overly long. It will highlight your freckles.” Now properly dressed, his cravat
tied, Luke resumed his seat at the table.

She braced her hands on her hips.
“And whatever is the matter with freckles?”

“Absolutely nothing,” he
whispered with a smile as he took his first bite, and she pondered his words.

The afternoon came and Brigitta
sought out the music room. Luke sat in a high-back chair with his feet propped
up on an ottoman and his nose buried in a book. She bit her tongue. She should
ask him to take her home. She should do it now.

Stroking the keys of the
pianoforte, Brigitta took a seat instead and played a romantic tune. The music
consumed her and she lost all sense of where she was.

Memories scrolled through her
mind of her happy parents, holding hands and frolicking through a field of
flowers. The scene changed from the field to the lake bank. Chadwick held her
hands and gazed at her longingly. She looked at his chest and when she lifted
her chin, she no longer stared at her husband, but at Luke instead. He stroked
her cheek and she sighed. The touch of his ghost-like fingers lingered against
her skin until the very last note faded.

Startled, she jumped at the real
Luke’s clapping. “That was delightful. You should play more often.”

“Thank you,” she said, lowering
her head in embarrassment.

“I have heard very few with your
acumen.”

She looked closely to see if he
lied. When she didn’t notice deceit, she said, “Again, thank you.”

“Do you play at the estate?”

She frowned.

“If you do not, then you should.
The stodgiest of crowds would be impressed by your skills.”

“Why do you torment me?”

“Pardon?”

“You know as well as I that I’m
not permitted to live like the baroness I claim to be.” She rose and covered
her cry with her hand.

He grabbed her arm and tugged her
to a gentle halt. She was captured by his gaze. “I meant no harm in my
statement.”

She shook her head. “It is of
little consequence. Would you please release me? I wish to retire.” His grip
slackened and she stepped away. “Good night, Luke.”

“Good night, dearest Brigitta.”

She kept the tears at bay until
she reached her bedroom, then they burst forth with no hint of stopping.

****

Luke fell back into his chair
with a sigh. This was not working. He had thought to take her away from her
prison and perhaps endear her to himself, but she was so caught up in her duty
she couldn’t see him.

Perhaps if he made Chadwick and
Roland confess their plot, then she would be more amicable to him? Or perhaps
she would tell him to get away from her forever. The fact that he’d known
nothing of the original plan to pretend she was the baron’s wife, not until
after the fact, would probably have no bearing on her decision to cast him
aside.

He paced the music room. Lifting
a curtain, he studied the road before the house. Perhaps bringing her here had
been a poor idea. But if he took her back to the estate, how could he endear
himself to her with Chadwick’s confusing interference?

In her mind, she was a married
woman. And in honesty, he thought her feelings admirable. Indeed, he hoped to
benefit from her loyalty someday.

Tapping his finger to his chin,
he pondered his choices. They could stay here and she would probably continue
to deny her feelings. Or he could take her back to the estate and she could
deny her feelings there instead. The situation was positively hopeless.

Sore from the day of hard labor
and confused by his lack of options, Luke took Brigitta’s hint and retired
early. Perhaps on the other end of sleep, he would know what to do.

****

By nightfall Chadwick reached the
shack. A lantern hung on the veranda rafters and swung madly in the howling
wind. The inclement weather had begun to pass yet he desperately desired to
remove himself from the remaining vestiges.

Hesitantly, he knocked on the
door. A young woman, her brown hair lifted in a tidy bun, wearing a threadbare
maid’s gown in last year’s fashion, stared at him and said, “Yes?”

“My carriage threw me and I’m
seeking shelter from the storm.”

“Do you have coin?” He frowned
and she explained, “I don’t want your money but my father might.”

“I’m afraid at the moment I’m
penniless, but I do have access to a great amount of coin. If you will but
shelter me for the night, you will be handsomely rewarded.”

She drew him inside, looking up
and down the road as she closed the door. She offered to take his wet cloak and
he handed it over. The room was filled with smoke, and she directed him toward
the cottage’s rear.

“The game is in the back room.”

He frowned but followed her
directions. A liveried footman opened the door. Several gentlemen sat around a
small round table. Cards and coins were strewn in the middle of it.

What luck
! He had stumbled
into a gaming house. Taking a seat, he said, “Deal me in on the next hand.”

“And who might you be?” asked the
eldest man of the party.

“Why, I’m Chadwick Andrews.”

The man cocked a brow. “You don’t
say.”

“I do.”

“Well, that could be a problem
for ye, then.”

“A problem?”

“Yep. Tales are that you don’t
have a cent to your name. You’ve done gone and blown every coin the village of
Stockport ever owned and put your grandchildren into debt, as well.”

The men around the table
horse-laughed and slapped their thighs. Chadwick attempted to play it cool
despite his rising temper. “I assure you the news of my losses are greatly
exaggerated. I can afford to spend way more than I have already.”

A shadowy figure arose from the
corner. Shocked to the core to see any lady in such a setting, Chadwick dropped
his jaw. He grimaced as Lady Vonda stepped into the candlelight.

“Chadwick, welcome. Do take a
seat and meet the fellows.” Lady Vonda introduced him around the table. “I don’t
have to explain my need for secrecy. If anyone in London knew of my
establishment,” she shrugged and clicked her tongue, “let’s just say I would be
the talk of the town, and not of the good variety. It is one thing to host a
game in one’s parlor, but I find the thrill of hiding like a bandit much more
exciting. But I’m sure I don’t have to tell you this. We all have our secret
pleasures.” She winked and patted his arm.

He cringed and she continued, “And
there is no reason to be so modest. We all know your debts are compounding.
Perhaps if your brother had married Zilla Elis, then you wouldn’t be in such
shape.”

She sipped at a drink and he
lifted his brow. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, didn’t you know? Your
brother went to London to woo Zilla Elis, but I fear her father will be
extremely strict with her suitor, and either your brother didn’t measure up or
perhaps after meeting her, he changed his mind.”

A plan formed itself in his mind
within the second. Chadwick said, “Tell me more of this Zilla Elis. She sounds
like a most fascinating person.”

****

Luke sipped at his coffee and
Brigitta used a bit of bread to wipe up the last of her eggs.

He looked over her head, the
events from earlier still fresh on his mind. He’d rummaged through his parents’
room until he’d found the bandages and the old package of herbs. The draught
placed in his pocket, he’d slipped back downstairs and prepared breakfast.

Brigitta opened her mouth to
speak and broke his revere. He interrupted. “Please collect your things.”

“What?”

“Collect your things, as I will
be returning you to the estate today.”

“But—”

“Brigitta, do not argue; it is a
detestable habit.’

She frowned but hurried upstairs.
Luke went to the stable and harnessed the horses to the coupe. Moments later
she joined him with her ball gown draped over her arm.

Outside Luke opened the coupe’s
door, but Brigitta shook her head and refused to climb in.

“I would prefer to ride with you.”

He conceded, a thrill of
excitement racing through him at the prospect of her proximity.

“Let me help you.” He held her
hand and assisted her onto the driver’s seat.

As he guided the horses down the
waterlogged drive, Luke gritted his teeth and prayed until they reached the
main road. The pleasure he should have felt over the mud drying and creating a
safe passage home was overshadowed by the idea of its necessity. Silently he
cursed Chadwick for the entire business. Perhaps he should create his own ruse
to keep from taking her back to the estate.

The ride was pleasant and she
exclaimed frequently over the beauty of the area. “I do so hope you received
permission to stay at the house. I would hate for you to come to any trouble
because of me.”

“There will be no trouble from me
staying there.”

“Good.”

She looked over her shoulder and
he followed her gaze as she took one last look at the rippling water. She was
silent for a moment but he could hear her gnawing at the inside of her cheek. “Please
do tell me what worries you.”

“How did you know?”

“It doesn’t matter how I know.
What matters is you are vexed and I wish for you to tell me why.”

The coupe bounced along the
rutted road, causing the seat to rock back and forth. Only a few moments out
and he already felt discomfort in his ankles, and he struggled to maintain
control of his clacking teeth.

“Very well. I am increasingly
worried that my disappearance, and subsequent reappearance, may be a cause for
scandal.”

“I see.”

The coupe dipped and she grabbed
his arm. He turned to see if she’d done so to stabilize herself or if it was
something more.

“What will they think if they
know I have been secluded with you overnight?” Warmth left him as she released
his arm and clutched the seat. She added, “Oh, the baron will never accept me
now.”

Quickly he closed his eyes and
asked forgiveness. The powder felt hot in his pocket and his guilt grew. He
cleared his throat. “They will not know where you’ve been.”

“But how is that possible? They
will see us return.”

“Nay, they will not.”

“Do you mean to escort me through
the tunnels again?”

“I do.”

“And what if they ask me where I’ve
been? I will be hard pressed to come up with a convincing story.”

Luke swallowed. “I doubt you will
remember.”

“What? How will I not remember? I
do not believe it possible I should ever forget this experience.”

He didn’t speak further. No
matter how much she pressed, he remained silent.

By afternoon, they’d arrived at
the outskirts of the estate. He hid the coupe behind a row of trees and helped
Brigitta down from the driver’s seat. After unhitching the horses and leaving
them to graze, he assisted her across the creek, and they slid together through
the crack in the wall and into the garden. He easily found the tunnel entrance
and moved a couple of branches so they could slide inside.

They entered the hallway and he
searched for footmen. When no one came, he slipped into the hall and urged
Brigitta forward. She hesitated a moment, and he almost feared she would change
her mind, but then she stepped forward and grabbed his hand.

They arrived at her rooms, and he
was surprised to find no one guarded her suite. He opened the door and looked
inside. The bed had been repaired and the room put into order. Regret consumed
him over what he was about to do, but he couldn’t stop now. It was the only
way.

Luke pulled her inside. She
stared at the room and her shoulders sagged as she perched on the edge of the
bed.

“Thank you for returning me.”

Luke found a glass, poured water,
and dumped in the powder. The concoction had been left at the summer home to
help with his father’s pain. The doctor had claimed it would also help him
forget. He hoped the doctor had been correct about its power.

“Drink this.”

Brigitta took the glass and
downed the contents in one gulp. “Thank you.”

He nodded and set the glass
aside. His gut tightened until he felt absolutely wretched.

Brigitta placed the back of her
hand to her forehead. “I don’t feel so good. Is the room spinning?”

“Brigitta, when you wake up, you
won’t remember me.”

“Luke,” she reached for him, “what
is happening? What have you done?”

He grabbed her hands and placed
them on either side of his face. Her touch was like acid and he felt burned to
his core. “I’m doing what you want. I’m letting you find your place in the
baron’s world.”

“You’re leaving me,” she said. A
single tear slipped from the corner of her eye.

Her sorrow made his heart break.
He gulped. “Yes, I’m leaving. But before I go, I have to tell you something.”

She lay back on the bed and Luke
lifted her legs. “What?” she asked.

“I love you.”