Tananguard 02 - To Love a Lord (18 page)

Josephine studied him. This was what she was hoping for. “What do you mean?” she asked innocently.

Lucas looked at her in surprise, almost as though he had forgotten she was there. “I…,” he sighed. “You might as well know since apparently Connor has fallen off course. Connor is supposed to be trying to coddle you and win your affection. He is supposed to be trying to bed you,” he told her angrily. “What have you done to him? What happened after the fight? I know he slipped away back to your house late in the night. What happened?”

“What do you mean he was supposed to be trying to bed me?” Josephine asked angrily in return.

Lucas laughed. “Don’t get so upset. You’re not the first he’s done this to.”

“Lucas, I do not like what you are implying.” Her heart was beating fast. Lucas was telling her everything she needed to hear without much persuasion. Was it true?

“You may want another drink for this,” he told her, holding out the bottle of brandy.

She accepted, letting him fill her glass this time. He waited for her to take a drink before continuing. She did, but only a small one. Her throat still burned from the first drink she’d taken.

“Connor and I have a bet going. He has bet me I cannot lure Rebecca Cunningham to my bed, and I bet him he could not lure you to his bed. Every day we do not achieve our goal we add money to that jar.” He pointed to a jar sitting on the mantle above the fire place. “There is over one hundred pounds in there, and Connor is fussy with his money.” He paused. “I was certain he was working you good.”

She slapped him hard across the face, and he laughed.

“You lie,” she said heatedly. One hundred pounds! That was so much. Had he accepted the bet for the money, knowing he had feelings for her and thinking he could win the bet and still keep her? Or had she simply been a bet?

“Women never like hearing the truth,” Lucas said dryly, rubbing his cheek.

Josephine sat down heavily in a hard backed chair. “He said he loved me,” she said quietly.

Lucas frowned. “What?” he asked.

“He loves me. I am not a bet,” Josephine challenged. Her charade was gone. She would not listen to Lucas anymore. She would speak to Connor of this like she should have done in the first place.

*

Lucas stared at her in stunned silence. She had just played him for the fool. She was definitely more than she appeared. If she could con him so easily, what had she done to Connor?

The man was still seeing her, and that fool
had
confessed his love. Anger surged through Lucas. He wanted to hit something for believing this woman’s ploy. He wanted to hit
her
, actually. He thoroughly believed she was manipulating Connor. She would take everything from him, only hurting him in the end. Lucas refused to stand by and watch it happen to his friend. Connor and he were like brothers. They did not turn their backs on each other, and Connor would understand when Lucas explained why he did what he planned to do. It was not for The Game for once. It was for Connor.
Forgive me, Connor,
he said to himself.
Some day you will thank me.

Lucas turned his anger aside and focused. “I am sorry,” he said with sincerity. “I did not think he would go that far. He’s usually more sensible than that. But he does take our bets very seriously. He hates to lose. Sometimes I think he does not know how to lose.”

She looked down at her trembling hands. The brandy swished back and forth within the glass. “Here,” she said handing it to him. “I do not want this.”

He pushed it back to her. “Yes
, you do. Trust me. In fact, drink that, and I will be back with something better.”

“No, I think I should go. I need to find Connor and speak with him,” she admitted weakly.

“Well, you are in luck then. He’s supposed to come by later today. He was here earlier, but the bastard didn’t have time to talk. He was quite adamant I be here this evening though. Apparently, he has something he needs to tell me,” Lucas finished offhandedly. “Perhaps he’s won the bet?” he asked with a teasing note only to receive another slap across the face. He smiled ruefully. “I take that as a no.”

She did not answer. She gripped the brandy tightly in her left hand. Some had sloshed over the side when she had slapped Lucas. She stared at the drink then guzzled it down. She forced the glass into Lucas’s hands this time. Tears trickled down her cheeks. “I can’t stay here. If he does come by, tell him I am home,” she whispered.

Lucas sighed, pulling her into a kindred hug. “I am sorry, Sophia. I didn’t think he could get to you.”

*

Lucas’s sincerity tore at her heart. Josephine sobbed into his shoulder. Connor had gotten to her. In the worst way possible, he had gotten to her. She was madly, deeply in love with him. Did he feel any of that in return? She reminded herself once again that he had married her when he did not have to. That had to mean something. Then again, he was nobility. He could easily annul the marriage due to her station or lack thereof.

“Here,” Lucas said, pulling her to her feet and guiding her to a long sofa. “Sit. I will be back with some wine, and you may wait here until Connor arrives. Maybe then you will get more answers. Perhaps he truly does love you.” He shrugged before leaving the room.

Josephine sat numbly on the sofa. Lucas had even said maybe Connor truly loved her. If he suggested it, surely it was possible. This past month of marriage could not have meant nothing to Connor could it? They had made plans for their future, plans that seemed so desirable to Connor. But perhaps that was also part of the charade. Perhaps it was all a game to him.

Josephine’s head began to spin as the alcohol saturated her body. Because she rarely drank, the smallest amounts always had a strong affect on her. Even if she wanted to, she did not think she could leave, not until she rested a bit.

Lucas returned shortly with a bottle of red wine. “Here,” he said, filling a fresh glass with it. “Drink.”

“No, I shouldn’t,” she said, but took the glass anyway.

Before long, he had refilled the glass more than once. It was far too much for her. She was barely coherent, babbling or crying about something she was certain had to do with Connor.

*

Lucas listened to her sobs, doing his best to comfort her. He held her next to him while she wept into his side. He rubbed her back gently, saying kind words to soothe her pain. Inside he was growing irritated. The woman was an emotional wreck. How was he supposed to seduce her if she continued w
eeping about Connor? Suddenly, she grew silent, going limp by his side.

“Sophia?” Lucas asked. Nothing. He shifted his weight and tilted her chin up to his face. Her eyes were shut, and she was breathing heavily. The woman had fallen unconscious. Lucas laughed in disbelief. This was
not supposed to happen. She’d barely had anything to drink. The wine was quite weak in his opinion, yet it had been enough to put the woman out cold. Lucas sighed. Now what? How was he supposed to be caught making love to her if she was unconscious? Then an idea came to him. He smiled. He stood, picked Sophia up into his arms and carried her to his room.

*

Connor stepped out of the carriage almost before it came to a halt. “Wait here. I shouldn’t be long,” he told the driver.

It was late, and he needed to get back to Sophia tonight, but not before telling Lucas everything. Connor had been avoiding Lucas for this very reason. He dreaded telling Lucas the truth—that he’d married Sophia almost a month ago and he was moving out. Lucas would not take this news well. He would try to persuade Connor against all of it. He would push Connor to annul the marriage. It wasn’t a conversation Connor was looking forward to, but it needed to be done.

He made his way to the house and stepped inside.

*

Josephine gripped her stomach and lurched from the bed. She stumbled to the floor, falling out of the bed. She stared into the darkness of the room, wondering how her bed had gotten so tall when the sickness filled her again. She was going to vomit. She searched through the darkness for a washbasin or chamber pot. Nothing was familiar to her. Where was she? Desperation overwhelmed her as she searched. If she didn’t find something soon, she was going to spew the contents of her stomach all over the floor. She didn’t want that. Her hands clasped something bowl-like. She grabbed hold of it and gave in to the sickness.

It seemed an eternity she kneeled on the floor completely bare, heaving into the bucket when finally it was over. She didn’t move from her position though, except to wrap her arms around her stomach. She stayed there, breathing heavily. Her head hurt, her stomach still turned, and she couldn’t remember anything such as where she was.

A door opened off to her right and a light glared into the room followed by Connor. Josephine stared at him, uncomprehending what he was doing there and not in the bed. Surely, he had brought her to the bed. Well, whatever he was doing, she did not want him to see her like this, leaning over a chamber pot filled with her own vomit.

Connor didn’t seem to notice her on the floor, though. He was staring at the bed or at something in front of it. He shook his head as though he didn’t want to believe what he was seeing. He stepped forward, placing the lit candlestick on a table and bent to pick something up off the floor. It was her dress. He stared at it then at the bed. She just watched him from the floor, too weak to stand and see what he was looking at.

“Lucas?” Connor said. A dangerous edge lined his voice.

Lucas,
she wondered. Then she saw movement coming from the bed and gasped.

Connor’s head whipped toward her, the blood draining from his face when he saw her.

She was staring at the bed in horror. “No,” she whispered.

“Someone turn out that damned light,” Lucas’s voice moaned from the bed.

“No!” she screamed.

Lucas bolted upright in the bed. “What the hell!” he exclaimed, falling backward, grabbing at his head.

“No,” Josephine said over and over. “I didn’t.” She shook her head as tears streamed down her cheeks.

Connor stared at her in stunned silence. Then he just turned and left the room.

Josephine jumped to her feet and grabbed all of her clothes she could find. Sobs were wracking her body as she dressed.

“
Sophia, you don’t have to go,” Lucas said smugly.

“How could you!” she shouted at him. Her stomach rolled and she darted back to the chamber pot. She vomited into it again, sobbing even harder when she was done. Oh, what had she done? What had Lucas done? Surely, she didn’t come willingly to his bed. Yet it was possible because she couldn’t remember anything except the betrayal and pain she had felt at finding out she had been nothing but a bet to Connor.

“Don’t put all the blame on me. You were just as eager as I,” Lucas said.

“No, I couldn’t have been,” she whispered. “No!” she shouted. Then she turned and ran.

She didn’t know this house, but she found her way outside soon enough, or perhaps it wasn’t soon enough. Connor was pacing at the bottom of the stairs that led up to the front door. He glanced up, and at that moment, she realized he did love her. A man who didn’t could never have looked so betrayed and hurt by what he had happened upon. She covered her mouth with a hand and tried not to sob. She had done this to him. She did not deserve him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I don’t know what happened. I’m sorry.” She slipped the small, golden ring from her finger and
placed it in his hand. He just stared at her with that haunted look. A sob escaped her lips, more tears falling even harder than before. She rushed past him and into the night.

*

Connor didn’t move. His entire soul had just been ripped from him. He was angry, pained, and broken. He looked down at the ring in his hand not realizing what it meant. He blinked, lifting the ring to look at it. “Wait,” his voice croaked. “Sophia…,” he trailed off looking around him. She was gone. Murder filled his body. He stormed back into the house and up to Lucas’s room.

“You son of a whore!” Connor roared, leaping at Lucas, hitting him over and over. Anger drove him. Lucas would die for this!

Lucas tried to fight back, but Connor had him pinned as he knocked the senses out of him. Before long, Lucas was a bloody mess. Connor climbed off of him, breathing hard. He slumped to the floor and covered his face with his hands. His body shook, and he wept.

Lucas breathed faintly. “I…did it…for your own good,” he slurred. A weak laugh escaped his lips.

Connor froze, anger filling him all over. He climbed to his feet slowly and turned to Lucas. “I’m done,” he said.

“What do you mean you’re done?” Lucas asked thickly. His nose was bleeding, his face was swollen, and he had two black eyes.

“I’m done with The Game. Keep the money. I don’t want it. I am truly done, and I am moving out.” Connor walked away from Lucas then.

“You can’t quit Connor. It’s part of you!” Lucas shouted after him.