Andrews Brothers 01 - The Ruse (19 page)

Relaxed by the thought of a
wealthy future, Chadwick glanced around the room and noted the other guests in
attendance. Twittering females huddled in a corner, waving and giggling, and he
lifted his glass in salute, enjoying the brief moment it left his lips.

“At least the old man was kind
enough to invite women for us who have to wait for our turn about the gardens.”

“I know. Who invites this many
men at one time? I believe I will peruse the other ladies in attendance and
ignore my walk with Zilla.”

“I can’t say I blame you. Her
money and land are hardly sufficient to make one forget her impersonal nature.”

“Nor her father’s ill-bred
rudeness.”

Heads nodded.

Chadwick moved away and waited
for the welcoming line to end. A footman passed and he discarded his glass. He
crossed his legs at the ankles, tugged on his coat, smoothed his hair, and
clicked his tongue in rhythm. He hoped his impatience showed.

Finally, Zedekiah called him.
Envy fleeted across the other male guests’ faces, but he ignored them as he
lifted his arm to Zilla and headed for the gardens.

Luke paced the hallway outside
the dining area. Agitated, he repeatedly ran his hand through his hair. Every
moment seemed to complicate matters more.

He halted. Brigitta stood in the
doorway, staring at him. Candles from the table shone around her like a halo.

“I’ve been sitting at the table,
finishing my dinner alone, and I realized that asking you about that name has
no doubt brought about a measure of concern. I assure you I’m fine; it is just
that since the day I disappeared, my memory hasn’t been as good as it once was.
I did not intend to alarm you with my question.”

Her serene manner and apology
calmed him deep inside and served as a reminder for why he loved her. “You did
alarm me, I must admit.”

“I figured as much. May I make a
suggestion?”

“Yes, you may,” he said.

“Perhaps someone in the manse is
named Chadwick?”

He gulped and nodded.

She placed her hand over her
heart. “I’m relieved to know I’m not crazy.” She paused before adding, “As I
have finished my dinner I will retire to my room, unless you have another
suggestion.”

The pleading tone had him
searching for another place to gather. “Perhaps the library?”

She clapped, her expression
lighting up like a torch. “That would be delightful.”

They locked arms and he escorted
her to the library. He lit candles and called for Jarvis to start a fire while
Brigitta pored over the leather-bound books lining the shelves. The valet left
and he took a seat beside Brigitta on the sofa as she opened her choice on her
lap. He snaked his arm along the back and played with a strand of her hair.

The crisis had been averted. As
long as she believed the name came from a random person in the manse, and didn’t
question further, all would be well.

Coy eyes peered at him sideways,
glittering in the firelight. She lifted her lips in a smile. “Hmm, I’m trying
to read.”

“Don’t let me stop you.”

She laughed. “I’m glad you don’t
mind, but I’m having trouble concentrating.”

“I don’t know whether to be happy
I’ve distracted you or sad that you’re not distracted enough to stop reading.”

She placed the book over her
thigh and said, “Is that what you want? My undivided attention?”

Luke struggled to breathe as her
feminine scent wafted around him and her teasing tone caused his heart to race.
“Perhaps.”

She closed the book entirely and
set it on the table. Back against the sofa, she folded her hands in her lap. “Then
you have it.”

Now that he had her attention, he
was unsure what to do with it. He drummed his fingers on the wooden edge of the
sofa back. “Yes, thank you.”

He gazed into the fire and she
said, “You don’t know what to say, do you?”

He laughed. “I’m afraid not.”

Her shoulders shook. “Since you
don’t know what to say, and I have nothing to say, I will resume my book.”

Before she could flip it back
over, there was a knock on the door. Luke said, “Come in.”

Manny entered and bowed. “My
lord?”

“Yes, Manny?”

“My lord, a group of officers
have stopped at the front gate and asked for hospitality for the night.”

Luke immediately said, “Of course.
Invite them in and have Jarvis come to me.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Luke rose and peered through the
library window. Tired horses held by red-coated soldiers waited outside. The
sun lowered and long shadows striped the lawn and carriageway. Brigitta’s warm
breath struck his neck as she hovered behind him, and Luke swallowed and
instructed himself not to turn and take her in his arms.

“So many? Will there be room for
them all?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Is there anything I can do to
help the staff prepare?”

He shook his head, her warm
teasing breath continuing to distract him.

“If I cannot help with the
preparations, am I at least allowed to help with the welcome?”

“Yes. We shall go together.” She
gave a delighted smile and he offered his arm. They walked toward the front
entrance. Jarvis met them and Luke gave instructions.

Jarvis rushed ahead and by the
time Luke and Brigitta stepped into the foyer, the soldiers had already been
escorted to the dining hall where the footmen and kitchen staff had quickly
laid out a cold collation of meats and cheeses. They welcomed the officers and
found seats among them at the table.

The commanding officer, a man by
the name of Colonel Smyth, introduced the others. The footmen served the meal
and the colonel and his men dove in heartily.

Brigitta sat between Luke and the
colonel.

“What brings you to Stockport?”
asked Luke.

“We are on our way to an
encampment near Brighton. We’ve heard much about, um, Stockport, and decided it
would be a good place to stop for a brief respite.”

Luke frowned. Rumors of Brigitta
had traveled farther than he’d expected.

“And what have you heard of our
fair area, Colonel?” asked Brigitta.

Luke widened his eyes and stared
at the colonel. The answer came out as a stutter. “W-well, I–I heard about the
b-beauty of the baroness, of course.”

“Oh, thank you,” said Brigitta, a
rosy hue covering her face.

Luke relaxed as the evening wore
on and no one mentioned the previous spectacles at the estate. The entire party
retired to the living room and the footmen brought out gaming tables. Four
people gathered at each table for whist.

Brigitta took a seat and Luke
hurried to sit across from her but was too late. The colonel had commandeered
her as his partner and Luke was left standing on the sidelines watching.

****

The colonel took his turn as
dealer. So far the two of them had won two hands; a third and they would have
the rubber. Her heart raced with anticipation.

She took the hand with a grand
slam and jumped to her feet, hugged the colonel, and planted a chaste kiss on
his cheek. “We won!”

Embarrassed, the colonel said, “Yes,
we did.”

Brigitta clapped. “I believe we
should have music. Yes, let’s have music and dancing.”

“But you are the only lady,” said
the colonel, adding, “you might become tired. And whoever would play for us? I’ve
seen no musicians in our midst.”

She waved the words away. “Oh,
nonsense. I could dance with every one of you twice and still not tire. And if
need be I could play, the pianoforte, at least.” She tapped her finger to her
chin. “But I guess it would be hard for me to dance and play at the same time.”

The colonel grinned, bowed, and
stepped back. Luke took his place. Anger twisted his face and his brows drew
together over his darkening eyes. She paused, her delight evaporating.

He grabbed her arm and whisked
her away to an empty corner. Her back touched the wall. Blood drained from her
face and the room wobbled. Officers stared openly, leaning in and whispering to
one another. They looked like salivating dogs, the games of whist all but forgotten.

Between clenched teeth, he
whispered, “What are you doing?”

“I’m playing hostess.”

“Perhaps you should retire.”

“But I’m not tired.”

“There will be time for
socializing tomorrow.”

“But I’m not tired,” she said,
stomping her foot.

Instead of making his request
again, he grabbed her arm. Heated stares followed them until Luke sent the
officers a scowl. He escorted her upstairs. When they arrived at her suite, she
said, “Why are we here? I thought I would stay with you in your room? We did
have a good day, didn’t we?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Yes,
we had a good day, b-but since I have to ensure the officers are well placed,
it would be better if you stayed within your own suite tonight.”

She pouted but went along with
his demands. Closed inside her room, she lay upon her bed and twiddled her
thumbs. Voices echoed up from downstairs. Later noises came from the officers
en route to their chambers.

She rose and stared at the flames
flickering in the fireplace. Afterward, she rifled through her closet. Lastly,
she sat at her desk and pulled out paper and a quill. The words flowed
naturally and when she finished she had written a perfectly romantic letter to
her husband.

****

Chadwick took the hatred of the
other men in stride. If they were not bold enough to ask for a walk with Zilla,
then they did not deserve time with her.

He held his arm out and Zilla
grasped it. They walked through the ballroom’s French door to the gardens
behind the Elis house. Clear water sparkled in the fountains. Surrounded by decorated
hedges, the couple strolled along narrow paths. Behind them was the faint echo
of footsteps.

“It is a fine evening,” said
Zilla.

“Yes, it is.” He held his chin
aloft as he’d seen Luke do. Pretending to be his regal brother had begun to
bore him, but he reminded himself it was for a worthy cause: to line his
pockets.

Zilla twittered a fan before her
face. “I find the afternoons extremely hot. How about you?”

“I’m comfortable.”

She closed the fan, tapped it to
her chin, released her grip on his arm, and walked backward in front of him.
Curious, he came to a stop and she halted and circled him. Expressions of
admiration flinted across her face and he imagined a predator circling its
prey.

In a hoarse whisper, she said, “I
can’t figure out your game.”

“Excuse me?” The cravat felt
tight around his throat. Had he been found out?

“Oh, I don’t mean cards, for you
are absolutely terrible at that. But I mean the game you are playing with
Father.”

He opened his mouth to deny her
claims, but she placed her finger over his lips. “Do not speak yet. I know, as
I suspect several others do, that you are not the baron. You do look like him,
almost as if you were his twin. But you carry yourself differently and you are
definitely not as charming as he. It is as if you are like the night and he
like the day.”

“I think I should take that as a
compliment.” He fought a grin, satisfied to be recognized as someone other than
his brother, whether he was labeled charming or not. She removed her finger
from his lips and led him to a stone bench.

They took a seat. She leaned
toward his ear and whispered, “My father and all his friends are so boring. I’m
tired of the fancy parties that lead to men older than my father leering at me
like I’m a piece of prized beef at auction.” She ran her fingernail along the
pulsating vein in his neck and he swallowed. “I’ve long known I’m not beautiful
and I’m not easy to get along with. In fact, several have called me shrew on
more than one occasion.”

He hastened to decline the rumors
but she shook her head. “Do not try to lie to me and tell me I’ve heard
incorrectly. This would mean I’m either ignorant, naïve, or stupid, none of
which I consider myself to be.”

She stood and walked behind him.
Leaning forward with her elbows on his shoulders, she whispered, “I know you
attempt trickery, but what I don’t know is why.”

“And?” He forced himself to keep
his speech in an even tone.

“And, I find I do not care about
the why. I wish to assist you.”

He cocked a brow.

“You see, your brother spurned my
affections. Although I must admit they were hardly genuine. I tried to run him
off because Father wanted him as my mate. But since you’ve returned in his
place, my father has been suspicious, put out even, by your new temperament.
This suits me fine.”

He grabbed her hands and brought
her around until she sat beside him once more. “What do you propose?”

“That is exactly what I propose.”
Her thin lips shifted into a wide smile.

The next morning Luke hurried to
the dining hall. The cheerful, talkative red-coated officers surrounded the
buffet table as they filled their plates. Luke glanced around the room, hoping
to find Brigitta and have a word, but she was nowhere in sight.

The colonel raised his hand in
greeting. “Good morning, my lord.”

“Good morning, colonel. I expect
you slept well.”

“Indeed, it is the best sleep I’ve
had in some time.” In between bites the colonel said, “I see the baroness has
yet to come down. I do hope our presence hasn’t been too much of a burden on
her.”

“I’m sure that is not the case.”
Luke stood and called for Letta. “Have you seen the baroness this morning?”

“Nay, my lord, she has yet to
call for me.”

“Please go along and fetch her.”

Letta curtseyed and shuffled
away. Luke returned to the colonel and resumed his seat. Jarvis was in the
library, busily preparing invitations to local young ladies for an afternoon
dance. The day appeared to be looking up.

****

Brigitta’s stomach growled as she
paced her bedroom. Grabbing the doorknob, she rattled it yet again. The infernal
thing was locked. Pure nuisance, being locked in one’s room. Over her shoulder
she sent a passing glance to the bell rope. What was the use? Pulling the
infernal rope had never helped before.

Sighing, she beat upon the wood
and shouted, but no one came. Gowns lay strewn across her bed. She rubbed her
temples and tried to remember how they got there. The thought flitted away.
Unconsciously, she gathered two in her hands.

The door opened. “My lady, what
are you doing?”

She followed Letta’s astonished
stare and looked down. Quite unaware, she had tied several gowns together and
was in the middle of securing them to the bedpost. “I–I don’t know,” she
stuttered. Was she going mad?

Letta furrowed her brow but let
the subject drop. Instead she said, “The baron would like to see you in the
dining hall, my lady.”

“Of course,” she said, dropping
the gowns. “B-but maybe I should clean this up first.”

“Let’s get you dressed then you
can go. I’ll clean it, my lady.”

Brigitta rubbed her aching head
and the room wavered. Letta suddenly appeared before her as if she’d sprouted
from the floor, grabbed her hand, and before she quite realized it, led her to
a chair.

“My lady?”

“I’m all right. I just felt a bit
unsteady, is all.”

“Should I retrieve the baron?”

She shook her head. “No, just
give me a minute and I’ll be fine.”

“I will straighten up your
things.”

Brigitta nodded. Letta finished
cleaning, and then assisted Brigitta in selecting a gown and dressing. They
reached the dining hall as most of the officers exited and offered a greeting
in passing. By now her equilibrium had returned and she felt more like herself.
Worry over whether she was ill threatened to bog her down, but she pushed it
aside.

She approached Luke, sitting at
the table’s head with a cup of coffee cradled between his hands. Beside him,
the colonel sat back and laughed at something the baron had said. Brigitta
wished she had something to laugh at.

Angry at their cozy tête-à-tête,
she balled her hands on her hips and demanded, “I want to know why you locked
me in my room. I have felt positively dreadful all morning. I went so far as to
tie my gowns together and consider lowering myself out the window, before Letta
entered and caught me in a swoon.”

Luke knitted his brows in
confusion and the colonel’s eyes widened.

“Well, my lord, do you have
anything to say for yourself?”

Luke scooted out his chair,
stood, grabbed her arm, and escorted her into a corner hidden from the
remaining guests. “I would politely ask that we discuss this matter at another
time.”

His lack of concern for her
increased her rage. “I do not think so. I believe we shall discuss it now. I am
tired of feeling like a prisoner in my own home. You will stop locking my door,
and you will allow me to stay in your rooms at night, or I shall be forced to
quit this marriage and return to the village as a ruined woman.”

Her chest heaved, and she crossed
her arms and waited for his amicable reply. Surely in the presence of the
officers, he would acquiesce and they could fight the real battle later, but perhaps
she was wrong. As the thought crossed her mind, his eyes widened and the
pressure of his grasp increased until it was intolerable. Surely she would be
bruised by day’s end.

Dragging her from the room, he
didn’t speak. They ended in the library and he slammed the door.

Prudence demanded she apologize
for her rude behavior, but something inside begged her to be silent and let his
anger bubble to the surface. The two opinions warred within her as Luke paced.
His arms waved up and down and his lips moved rapidly without speaking any
actual words. Perhaps she was not the only one going mad.

Finally, without speaking, he
headed for the door as if he meant to leave her alone. “Where are you going?”
she asked, running forward and cutting him off.

“I’m going to tell my guests you’re
ill but should be better in time for tonight’s dance.”

“I’m not ill.”

“You’re not?” He stopped and
glared at her. “If you are not ill, then you must be mad, for no woman, my wife
or otherwise, would dare stand up to me like that in front of a room full of
people.”

“I–I—”

Luke’s face morphed bright red. “No
excuses or amount of apologizes will make me forget the embarrassment you have
brought upon me. Do you not realize those officers have come here to find fault
with Stockport? And when they have found the proof they seek, they will carry
it back with them to London? The atrocious behavior you exhibited,” he
shuddered, “I cannot began to think how I will make you appear respectable in
their eyes.”

Outwardly composed, her anger
escalated beneath the surface. Yes, she had made mistakes, but so had he and
she had yet to receive an apology. Taking a deep breath, she thought about the
villagers. Regardless of her situation, they deserved better. She said, “Perhaps
I deserve the censure you afford me. However, I assure you I meant no
disrespect to the fine people of Stockport.” She gnawed on her lip, squared her
shoulders, and continued. “These last few days have been increasingly
difficult. My memory has been so scattered, I feel at a loss to discover who I
am.

“I have this sense that being
locked in my room is a norm and one I found to be vehemently distasteful. Can
you prove me wrong in that?”

He didn’t speak and Brigitta felt
a rush of satisfaction tinged with anger.

“I promise that during the dance
I will rectify the officers’ bad opinion of me.”

He nodded.

“Now, as for what I said earlier,
I have no intention of leaving the estate, but I would rather spend the night
with my husband than separated from him. I do not think this is an illogical
request.” Her heart pounded in her chest as she waited for his reply. Would it
be romantic or gallant in nature, or would he order her to a nunnery?

He turned and stared out the
window. He held his shoulders stiffly and she gnawed on her lip with worry. Her
heart plummeted to her feet as she added, “But perhaps I’m wrong. I had thought
our evening together denoted romantic feelings, but perhaps I am your wife in
name only and you prefer another’s company in your bed at night.”

He rounded on her, eyes wide with
fury. For a moment he looked as if he were going to strike her. Perhaps she’d
gone too far? She collapsed onto the sofa, pushing herself into the cushions
until the back threatened to cut into her shoulder blades. But instead of
approaching, he stalked out.

She sighed with relief and prayed
she could find a way to rectify her spiraling situation.

****

Even if he walked the estate’s
entire grounds, he would never forget the words Brigitta had uttered. What a
fool he’d been! He should have demanded Chadwick tell her the truth in the very
beginning, then he could have pursued her as a free woman.

Instead he was left with her hazy
memories of her life before, hastily combined with her life as of now. The two
combined and conflicted, and caused him no amount of difficulty, not to mention
the confusion and frustration Brigitta had suffered.

Luke marched around the chapel
and through the glen where just the day before they had been set to be truly
wed. Now the area was nothing more than a clean valley with running vines and
tall trees. Frustrated, he continued on to the pond. Geese landed on the water,
dipping their heads beneath the surface and filling their bills.

What was he going to do? Roland
would arrive home soon. If he was truly unlucky, then Roland would return with
Chadwick. As soon as Brigitta saw them together, the paradox would no doubt
cause her great distress. At which point he would be forced to explain the
entire circumstances of their past relationship, as well as her relationship
with Chadwick.

Why had he not just kept her at
the summer house? He could have told her the entire truth there and then
whisked her away to London for a proper wedding. The time had passed where he
should have to live behind a guise of deceit.

The crux of the matter was, he
should not have allowed Chadwick’s lie to continue. Now he had tainted his own
relations with Brigitta and the lie he lived made him no more trustworthy than
Chadwick.

Hurried footsteps pattered behind
him and he turned. Brigitta stopped, her hands folded neatly in front of her,
and waited.

His heart twisted in his chest at
the confusion etched across her face. Even if she had behaved poorly, he should
never have scolded her like a fishwife. As his anger faded, her confusion
followed, leaving a hopeful sort of trust behind. He motioned her forward and
they walked the gravel path in silence. A stone bench sat on the edge of the
pond and he pointed to it.

They took a seat and stared out
over the water. Elbows on his knees, he bent forward and waited for her to
speak.

“I’ve spoken with the officers,”
she said. When he didn’t respond, she continued. “I explained I had recently
been kidnapped and you had locked my door for my safety. If I’m not mistaken,
they seemed to understand.”

“No doubt they believe you’ve
lost your mind and feel sorry for me for keeping you by my side.” He hid his
smile.

“No doubt,” she said with humor,
relieving him further. He relaxed and mentally kicked himself for his earlier
tantrum.

He turned on the bench. Her stare
caused him to think about their relationship. Sometimes he felt like a father
and her the wayward child. “I do wish you would learn how to speak in a public
setting. It is entirely uncomfortable to explain our personal affairs to the
world.”

“Quite so. I must admit that,
although I remember very few details of my marriage and coming here, I do seem
to remember that I have a vague issue with my temperament.”

“Vague?” He cocked a brow and she
slapped his arm playfully. His heart raced at her touch and he moved a stray
strand of hair behind her ear. A red hue dotted her cheeks and he grabbed her
hand and squeezed.

“Perhaps not so vague.” She
sighed and lifted her chin. “I do fear my greatest fault is my temper and
perhaps my mouth in general. It seems you in particular are able to fire me up.”

He didn’t reply but instead
studied her. Today she wore a gown of pale pink. A filmy scarf was tucked
around her neckline. Curls hung about her face and bobbed with her movements.
She shivered; she had run out without a shawl or Spencer jacket.

Luke removed his outer coat and
draped it over her shoulders.

“Thank you,” she said shyly.

Unexplained contentment filled
him. “You mustn’t forget to wear a pelisse when you come out. The weather is
quite cool this time of year.”

“I shall endeavor to remember.”

She snuggled to his side and he
wrapped his arm around her.

****

Chadwick drummed his fingers on
the tabletop in the library. A clock ticked annoyingly. A small fire burned in
the grate and waving sunlight streamed through the paned-glass windows. All his
friends had left for prior engagements and the silence of the house added to
his anxiety.

The paper in front of him set his
heart pounding, causing cold fingers of fear to shiver up his spine. A letter
from Roland, it had arrived the afternoon before and it still had him on edge.
He lifted the page and read it for the third time.

Sir,

My trip to London has been
delayed and while I hesitate to write it seems the only way I can reach you
with haste. Brigitta was recently found in the west wing. By some miracle, she
lost her memory. Luke has also returned and has assumed his role as baron.

Sources in the manse have written
to me with even more disturbing news. Brigitta believes she is married to Luke.
He has willingly accepted this and seems to be encouraging the relationship. In
fact, he created an entire wedding party out of tourists to renew “vows” only
Brigitta fainted and left him standing at the altar.

As much as it wounds me that
these things have happened in your absence, perhaps they are for the best. Your
brother can hardly cause an uproar, as he is set to marry a woman he is already
considered married to.

I highly suggest you continue
your stay in London until the wedding has occurred. I, myself, have requited
myself in the village until it seems prudent to return.

Your lifelong servant, Roland

The page fluttered to the desk
and Chadwick considered replying, but stayed his hand. The news relayed by
Roland meant he was truly free. Perhaps it was time to accept Zilla’s proposal
after all.