Retreat From Love (19 page)

“Examine it?” Freddy burst out in frustrated amazement. “I’d just like to talk about it. I find it quite ironic that you are always full of sage advice for others but won’t even discuss your own emotions. For instance, you’ve avoided any kind of sexual involvement with me for almost five years, and today we fucked Anne together. I was naked, you were naked. Together. Don’t you have anything to say about that?”

Brett’s lips tightened. “No.”

“No?” Freddy was yelling now, and to hell with the consequences. It felt good to finally let go. “No, you have nothing to say? Or no, you won’t say anything? Because you never say anything. You put me off and put me off, you say no as if it’s the only word you ever learned, but I never get any explanation. Don’t you think I deserve an explanation? Or is it that I’m just Freddy? I’ll just be quiet and go along and pretend you didn’t just fondle my cock today and beg me to fuck Anne for you, because that’s what you want?”

“Damn it!” Brett yelled back. Freddy was so shocked he took a step back and whatever he’d been about to say was forgotten. Brett never lost his temper, never. “I 94

Retreat From Love

will say this once, and once only, Freddy. What happened today is as far as things will go between you and me. I will be a part of…of whatever is happening between you and Anne, but I will not be manipulated by you. I will be your friend, and I will support you. I would do almost anything for you, but I will not be your lover. I cannot.”

“Whatever is happening between Anne and me?” Freddy asked in confusion.

“What do you think is happening between Anne and me? Because whatever it is, it seems to be happening between you and Anne as well.”

“I can’t give Anne what she wants any more than I can give you what you want, Freddy,” Brett said in a tired voice.

“I think you gave Anne exactly what she wanted today, and you did a damn fine job of meeting my needs too.” Freddy tried to find the right thing to say. If he didn’t Brett was going to walk out that door and this argument would remain unresolved between them.

“You both deserve more than what I can give you.” Brett began walking toward the door.

“How do you know?” Freddy asked. “How do you know what we need, what we

deserve? It seems to me that we should be the ones to make that decision. And we both want you.”

Brett stopped with his hand on the door, shaking his head. “You lost the right to make that decision when you became duke, Freddy.”

“And Anne?” Freddy was still determined to bring them together. Brett hadn’t said he didn’t want her. If Freddy could at least bring them together, then perhaps Brett would let him be a part of that.

Brett just shook his head. “I can’t,” he whispered. Then he walked out the door and shut it quietly behind him.

Brett walked slowly down the hall away from the library. He pretended that he didn’t hear the glass breaking as it hit the heavy panels of the door behind him. He was going to have to get very good at pretending.

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Samantha Kane

June 23, 1811

My Dearest Anne,

I miss you. I miss everything about you. But mostly I miss your sense of humor. You never
got mad at me when I indulged in my little jokes, did you? Or am I remembering things as I
wish to, and not as they were? You see, Brett is mad at me. It all started with a woman. She
looked a little bit like you, Anne. Damn me, I shouldn’t tell you that, should I? I keep forgetting
that I must treat you like a lady now and not like Anne. Although you’re still Anne. I’m sorry.

Lack of sleep has made me confused. It’s been nearly two months since our last major battle and I
still can’t sleep. Anyway, Brett is mad at me. He sent the girl away. I’m beginning to worry
about him. I shall have to take drastic measures to ensure his forgiveness.

I’ve lost some of your letters, Anne. I’ve looked everywhere. I am beside myself. I’m sorry. I
shall keep them all together now and carry them with me. Some poor fool has probably stolen
them and thinks to show up in Ashton on the Green and sweep you off your feet when this
bloody war is over. He’ll be in for a surprise, won’t he? Because I know you are far too clever for
that.

Your Devoted Servant,

Bertie

* * * * *

“Go and see Anne this morning, Brett,” Freddy said as he took a sip of his coffee the next morning.

Brett had been afraid to come down for breakfast, afraid to face Freddy. He hated that because he craved Freddy’s company. He needed his companionship just as he needed coffee and sausage in the morning. He was afraid that Freddy wouldn’t let last night’s argument go. He was afraid that because for one afternoon he’d given in to his selfish desires that he’d ruined everything between them. And then what would he do?

He wasn’t ready to face life without Freddy yet. Soon he’d have to, but not yet.

But Freddy had been as congenial as he always was, pleasant and concerned about Brett’s well-being. It hadn’t escaped Brett’s notice over the last few years that Freddy’s first concern was always Brett. He made sure Brett’s breakfast was served promptly, that his clothes were well-kept, that his smallest wish or need was fulfilled. Brett had become complacent. He’d let Freddy work his way into his life until Freddy was so firmly enmeshed in the fabric of Brett’s life that the thought of that life without Freddy 96

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was inconceivable. Brett had lain in his bed last night for hours wondering how he’d let that happen.

“Hello, is Brett at home this morning?” Freddy snapped his fingers in front of Brett’s nose and Brett jerked back.

“I…” Brett shook his head, “I’m sorry. Lost in thought.”

“Apparently,” Freddy told him in an amused voice. “I said you should go and see Anne this morning.”

“Why?” Brett winced at the suspicion in his voice. Freddy just raised an amused eyebrow.

“Because I am going to see Stephen, and I do not want Anne inconveniently

appearing while I interrogate the good vicar about her secrets.”

Brett felt the tension in his shoulders grow. “I can go see Stephen,” he offered. It was a sacrifice. Brett would like nothing more than to go and see Anne, to spend the morning in her company. And he wasn’t ready to see Stephen. Not yet.

“Mmm,” Freddy hummed as he took a sip of coffee. He shook his head. “No. I really need to do it. I need the village to see me with Stephen. I haven’t spent enough time here to solidify his position. I want everyone to see he has my approval and friendship. I think that’s important if he is to be successful here.”

Brett thought about that a moment. It was plausible. “Stephen has been here for over two years, Freddy. Don’t you think they’ve accepted him already?”

Freddy appeared to consider Brett’s statement. “Perhaps. But we both know how country folk are, Brett. There are probably quite a few people in the parish who still hold back, who haven’t given him their complete trust because they don’t know he has my approbation. And let’s be honest, I’m sure my mother hasn’t helped in that regard.”

Brett sighed. “You’re right of course. I’d be happy to go see Anne, you know that.

But I don’t wish to deprive you of her company.”

Freddy reached over and patted Brett’s hand, making Brett tense again. He felt like a fool when Freddy immediately pulled back with a distracted smile. “Never fear,”

Freddy said cheerily. “I shall join you at Anne’s as soon as I am able.”

Brett arrived at Anne’s at the same time that morning as he and Freddy had been appearing for the last week. And as usual after that first day he found Anne and her mother having their morning tea in the drawing room awaiting them.

“Is the duke not with you?” Mrs. Goode inquired after pleasantries were

exchanged. “He is well, I hope?”

“Oh yes, quite well,” Brett said as he spread the tails of his dark green jacket to sit in his usual chair. He’d grown rather fond of the threadbare old thing, actually. “He wanted to come, but he had some estate business to attend to this morning. He will join us as soon as he is able.” Brett rubbed his hands together in a show of enthusiasm that 97

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he didn’t feel. “Now, what volume were we on?” He reached for the closest book on the table.

Mrs. Goode laughed. “I haven’t the faintest idea. They all run together for me. Ash was forever talking about the Park, this little tidbit or that interesting fact. He found it all fascinating, and I didn’t have the heart to tell him it bored me to tears.”

Anne smothered a laugh. “Mama! Poor Uncle Ash and Father are horrified right now. They will be sending a lightning bolt at any second.”

Mrs. Goode just laughed again. “Dear Anne, if I were to be the recipient of heavenly lightning I’m sure I have far greater transgressions that are much more deserving of the honor.”

Brett was rubbing his upper lip to hide his smile, and Anne frowned teasingly at him as if sensing his amusement.

“Well,” Mrs. Goode said defensively, “I’m sure Mr. Haversham feels the same way.

If the duke weren’t interested in finding out more about the Park’s history in order to redecorate and restore it he would not deign to read any of these volumes.”

“I must disagree, ma’am.” Brett was sincere. “While you are correct that the Park itself is of little interest to me, I am finding it quite enjoyable learning about the late duke through his history of the Park. His voice is quite distinctive in these volumes.”

Brett put his hand on top of one of the books. “He was a bit of a character, wasn’t he?”

Brett smiled in amusement and Mrs. Goode shared the smile. “I see so much of both Bertie and Freddy in him.”

“Yes.” Mrs. Goode sighed. “Bertie certainly had Ash’s playful side, and Jerome his sense of responsibility. Frederick, I think, has a better balance between the two.”

Brett shook his head regretfully. “I never met Jerome, I’m sorry to say, ma’am. But from what I’ve heard, that sounds correct.”

“Well, Bertie certainly didn’t get his playful side from the duchess, I’m sure.”

Anne’s tone was sardonic. It was the first time Brett had heard her sound like that.

“Anne,” Mrs. Goode scolded, and Anne blushed like a chastised youth.

Brett came to her rescue. “I would have to agree, Anne.”

Anne pointed at him as she looked smugly at her mother. “See? Brett agrees with me.”

Mrs. Goode stood with the long-suffering sigh of a mother. “I didn’t say you were wrong. But one simply doesn’t say those things aloud in company, my dear.”

“Company?” Anne dimpled becomingly at Brett. “Why, Mother, it’s only Brett. He won’t tell a soul, will you, Brett?”

Mrs. Goode wagged a playful finger at Anne. “And that is how young ladies get into trouble, Miss Anne Goode. Believing in the discretion of handsome strangers who promise the moon.”

Brett laughed. “I make no such promises. The moon is a very far piece, ma’am, and I am too old and weary to chase it for anyone.” He leaned over and kissed Anne’s 98

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fingertips with a flourish, like a gallant knight of old. “Although were I a younger man of sound body and mind, I would gladly bring you the moon, Miss Goode.”

“There, my point is made, Anne.” Mrs. Goode stood up with a smile. “Don’t let him turn your head, my dear, with his pretty words.”

“I’m more concerned about his discretion,” Anne murmured under her breath, and Brett choked on the laughter that tried to burst free.

“What was that?” Mrs. Goode frowned as if she hadn’t heard.

“Nothing, Mama,” Anne said in a singsong voice that had Mrs. Goode rolling her eyes.

“Perhaps I should be warning Mr. Haversham not to let you drag him into any scrapes as you used to do with poor Bertie.”

“I shall guide her with my wisdom and good sense, ma’am,” Brett said solemnly.

Mrs. Goode tsked as she headed for the door. “I won’t be taken in by pretty words either.”

Brett suddenly realized that she was leaving, and he rushed to his feet. “Where are you going?” he asked in a panic. Surely she wasn’t going to leave him alone with Anne?

Mrs. Goode looked startled. “I must go and call on the Ferstons again. The last time I was there Mrs. Ferston seemed to be on the mend, but I’ve been worried about them for the last day or so. I really must see if she is better or I shall worry myself to death.”

Brett walked purposely toward the door. “I shall accompany you, Mrs. Goode.”

The older woman seemed nonplussed for a moment but recovered quickly.

“Nonsense. Mrs. Ferston would never forgive me for showing up unannounced with a strange gentleman. As poorly as she’s been lately her house and person are not what they should be. I shall help her clean today, and in a few days you and the duke must make the rounds so he can introduce himself to all his tenants.”

Brett started to argue, but Anne sided with her mother. “She’s quite right, Brett.

Mrs. Ferston would be so ashamed if you were to show up and her house was not in order. You wouldn’t want to do that to the poor woman, would you?”

Brett narrowed his eyes at Anne. “Then you should accompany your mother.”

Anne fluttered her lashes innocently. “Me? Why, whatever for? Those Ferston children are demons.” Anne shuddered delicately. “Five of them,” she added, holding up her open hand to emphasize the number.

“Anne.” Her mother was fighting laughter. “It’s your own fault that they love you so. If you wouldn’t teach them wild games and chase them about until they are all screaming they would leave you alone.”

Brett breathed a sigh of relief. “Then it’s settled. You shall accompany your mother and the duke and I will call later this afternoon.”

Mrs. Goode was shaking her head before he finished. “No, Anne mustn’t come. She had an inflammation of the lungs last winter, and I do not wish her to come down with whatever laid low the Ferstons.”

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Brett looked suspiciously at Anne. “She appears to be in excellent health now.”