Bronwyn Scott's Sexy Regency Bundle (53 page)

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a finger on her lips.

You can talk in a moment. You told

me Christmas Day that you could never stop being The Cat because there would always be the fear of arrest for a past burglary. With me, you would be protected from that. No one would dare challenge you while you are under my care.'

Nora's chest heaved, indicating she wanted to break into the one-way conversation. Brandon shook his head. 'I'm not finished. I haven't forgotten your other reasons. You won't have to give up your cause. All my funds, all my political connections, will be at your disposal, Nora, to do with as you wish. You already know I share your concerns. You know I support the Reform Act. Nora, we would be splendid. Stay with me and know that your fears have been laid to rest.'

Brandon found himself slightly out of breath. He could not think of anything more compelling to add. He watched her face for signs of acceptance. There were none.

'Brandon, all you say is true. It's a good offer. But I won't stay with a man so that he can fulfil an obligation of honour and for other reasons. Please let me go and don't ask any more of me.'

'You cannot expect me to let you go without a reason, Nora, not with the possibility that we've had two opportunities to create a child.'

He had not wanted to push things that far, to use conception as a trump card, but his hand had been forced. He'd not expected her to leave. He'd expected her to stay with him and they'd be able to face that eventuality if it arose in the natural course of time. But Nora had not done the expected. As always, she'd done the opposite.

'Tell me what it is that would drive you away and I will fix it.'

She shook her head slowly. 'You can' t fix this, child or not, Brandon. You can't jump down off the wagon box and throw your fortune at it.' It was said with sorrow, without any at his actions on Christmas Day.

78

Pickpocket Countess

Brandon felt a finger of fear move down his spine as he watched her eyes harden. She was steeling her resolve. He was suddenly seized with the desire to retract his statement. He didn't
want
to know.

But the decision was in motion. She was going to tell him.

He knew with distressing certainty it would be like hammering the final nail into a coffin. He swallowed hard.

'Brandon, I am married. I will not stay with one man while I am legally bound to another.'

Brandon took an involuntary step backwards, a hand covering his mouth, his other hand groping for a chair or a bed post, anything with which to steady himself. His world was reeling. The coffee and toast he'd eaten with Jack threatened to come back up.

At last he choked out the word.
'Married?'
This was worse than being on opposite sides of politics and even the law. This was about losing Nora. An Earl could do a lot of things, but he could not be a bigamist. The jealousy he'd so adamantly denied to Jack raised its green head. He did not want to share her with anyone from the past or the present.

'Yes. At least I think so. I haven't seen my husband for seven years.'

A glimmer of hope, then, Brandon thought, as morbid as it was. The rotter might be dead. Deuce take it, what was he coming to when the possibility of someone's death brought him a surge of joy? This whole situation was becoming more ludicrous by the moment.

A knock sounded at the door of his chambers. Brandon had no further opportunity to pursue this latest twist. The present and all its implications reasserted itself.

'This is not over,' he said sternly, waving Nora into the dressing room where she would be out of sight. It wouldn't do to have his servants see her in The

garb.

'Enter,' he called when Nora was hidden away.

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'My lord, I have come to inform you that the dressmakers you called for earlier this morning have arrived and are downstairs awaiting your pleasure,' the valet said.

'Excellent, tell them we'll be down shortly.' Brandon reached for a waistcoat and jacket.

into them gave him time

to regroup. When Nora appeared in the doorway from the dressing room, casting him a questioning look, he felt back in control of himself. He had a meagre plan, a delaying action, really, but it was all he had time to come up with as he finished dressing.

'The dressmakers from Manchester are here to help my betrothed restore her wardrobe after the unfortunate mishap yesterday that claimed her luggage,' he explained.

She quirked a brow at the fabrication Brandon was spinning.

Brandon didn't give her a chance to respond. 'My dear, you aren't the only one who can improvise.

'Shall we? We have much to discuss between us. You might as well do it in fine fashion. Until we resolve this tangle, I think it is best to see the

through,' Brandon said sternly,

his arm,

knowing she didn't dare refuse. This was a role of her making. She had committed herself when she'd hastily concocted the idea to pose as his betrothed.

Nora took his arm and the challenge he invoked with her customary

'The curtain rises.'

'So it does.' With any luck, it wouldn't be the final curtain.

As long as he kept her with him, he could protect her from Cecil Witherspoon. He would

more about this errant husband

of hers and send Jack out to find him. In the meantime, he could persuade her about the merits of being his wife, an idea that he was starting to grow fonder of by the moment. He would not let her go without a fight.