Wolfsgate (26 page)

William leaned back in his chair, his shoulders stiff, his eyes creasing on occasion. Justine had known these signs of his particular brand of aggravation too well over the years and did not want to witness them now. They played for almost an hour with Brandon winning most hands. Amanda, her eyes bright, made amusing small talk when appropriate to ease the tension at the table. The pressure between Justine’s eyes had her head swimming in the smoky, warm air. She began to take small steps away from the table, straying towards the open terrace doors.

“Lady Graven?” A warm hand brushed her upper arm. Her eyes flicked up to find Charles at her side. “You don’t look well at all. Come outside at once.” He took her elbow to lead her through the doors to the terrace. The cold air was a resounding slap on her skin. “Breathe, Justine.” His hands wrapped around her upper arms. She fought back the dizziness overwhelming her, and her lungs gratefully sucked in fresh air then released it.

“Better now,” she said. “T’was so warm inside.”

“And so bloody tedious watching others play,” he said, still not letting her go.

“Yes, there’s that too.” Her hand went to her chest. “Why aren’t you playing?”

“I try to avoid it. Come, sit here.” He guided her to a stone bench and took her hands in his, rubbing them. “Shall I fetch Graven?”

She shook her head. “Oh no, don’t interrupt his game. Please, t’is nothing.”

Charles tilted his head at her for a moment. “As you wish. I’ll bring you something to drink to steady yourself, eh?”

“Yes, thank you.”

He quit the terrace. Outside the door, his deep voice boomed in conversation with a woman’s then he returned. “Look whom I’ve found, Lady Graven.”

Georgina stepped out onto the terrace. She looked absolutely beautiful with her lustrous brown hair pulled into relaxed ringlets, her ivory skin and large brown eyes glimmering against the rich burgundy of her silk dress. “Justine, darling, there you are!”

“Georgie!”

“I’ve spotted you then lost you at least three times over this evening.” Georgina joined her on the bench pulling her into an embrace.

Justine laughed. “The same happened to me looking for you. Oh, G, it’s so good to see you again.”

“Keep her here, Miss Georgina,” said Charles.

“I will. Go fetch her a dram.” Georgina waved him off. He shook his head and headed back inside once more. “It’s been much too long, J. Look at you, you beautiful girl.” Georgina beamed at her. “I’ve learnt your news. Has your brother been saving you for Lord Graven all these years?”

“Something like that,” Justine said.

“Darling, you’re the talk of the village, and I’m damn proud of you. Well done. Thank God he survived such a horrible shipwreck. It must have been a dreadful ordeal.”

“Yes.” Justine held one of Georgina’s hands in hers, desperate not to discuss her personal life any longer. “And you? How are you?”

Georgina pursed her lips. “Back and forth to London or to my sister’s in Devon, the endless swirl of parties and civilized goings-on. Too much flirting and too many mixed signals from Matthew.” She lowered her voice. “Being cool, being warm. I don’t know. I don’t know, Justine.”

“Ah, the infatuation continues after all this time? Aren’t you the constant one?”

“It’s a problem I have.”

Justine laughed and squeezed Georgina’s hand. “I’m glad to see you haven’t lost your pluck.”

“Me? Not a chance, love.” Georgina’s pretty face sobered abruptly, her heart-shaped mouth pursed together. “I must say, Brandon seems different. Rather serious, on a continual glower. And those scars only make him a touch sinister.” She leaned in and lowered her voice. “Is he kind to you?”

“He is. Everything he’s been through has altered him, but inside he’s still the Brandon Treharne I grew up with.”

“Deep down inside, indeed.” Georgina raised an eyebrow. “Take care, Justine. Can’t be easy for you.”

“It has been difficult for him. But things have been busy, which has been good, with the renovations at the house. Brandon is getting accustomed to life among the living.”

“Yes, a right Lazarus sprung from the tomb,” Georgina remarked. “Well, I’m just glad you’re not on your own in that house any longer, and without that stepfather of yours. He’s lost it a bit, hasn’t he? Oh, that was the talk of the town too, don’t you know? Him being sent packing to his son’s. Good for Lord Graven.” Georgina smirked. “The men are playing cards?”

“Yes, with Amanda.”

“I’m sure she’s in the pink having Brandon back in the fold.”

Justine sighed. “She went and married his cousin, though, didn’t she?”

Georgina rolled her eyes. “She’s given William his son and heir. You know what that means.”

“No. What does that mean?”

Georgina blinked. “Oh dear, you have been out of the whirl for a long while, darling. Forgive me. It’s an understanding in higher circles that once the wife provides her Lord and Master with his son and heir, she is then somewhat free to explore, as it were.”

Justine’s neck stiffened. “Explore?”

“Yes. Explore…elsewhere,” Georgina said, her voice low. “Do you understand my meaning, ma chére?”

Justine’s stomach rolled. The brutal information scraped through her brain as a sour taste seeped through her mouth. Amanda having an affair would be perfectly acceptable? Somehow she couldn’t believe that William would find it so. No wonder she looked at Brandon as if he were the Christmas goose and with such smug confidence too.

Charles reappeared with a glass of port in one hand.

“At last!” Georgina said.

He handed Justine the full glass, his eyes narrowing. “You don’t look much better. Drink all of it, now.”

Georgina glanced up at Charles. “Listen to the wise doctor.”

Justine drank the dark ruby wine in two long swigs.

“You’re still a shade too pale for my taste, eh Georgie?” Charles said.

Georgina studied Justine. “I say we get that husband of hers to take her home.”

“Quite right.”

“No need to make this such a drama.” Justine looked up from her glass. “The heat and lack of air inside bothered me. If Lord Graven wants to keep playing he should keep playing. This is his first night out, I don’t want to spoil it for him. I do feel better now, and I so want to spend more time with you, G.” She handed her empty glass to Charles. “Thank you for the port, Charles.”

Charles grinned at her. “Be that as it may, I still think you should go home.”

“I agree,” Georgina said, sharing a look with Charles. “Come, Justine.” Georgina rose from the bench. Charles put Justine’s arm through his and led her out of the terrace, Georgina on her other side. The three of them wound their way through the crowded room and joined Andrew, who stood behind Amanda’s chair.

“How goes it?” Georgina asked Andrew.

“Brandon is making quite a sweep of it, much to everyone’s displeasure.” Andrew’s eyes darted over Charles and Justine. Amanda turned her head, her cool gaze flicking over them.

“Do you enjoy games of chance, Lady Graven?” Charles leaned close to Justine.

“I do, Mr. Montclare. Not card games, however. I find other games of chance much more satisfying,” Justine said in a clear voice. Charles’s face lit up, and he threw back his head and laughed. Georgina’s eyes widened, and Andrew snorted then quickly returned his attention to his sister’s cards. Brandon’s eyes glinted at Charles and Justine from across the table.

“Really, Charles lower your voice,” murmured Amanda.

“I beg your pardon.” Charles cleared his throat. “I say, Graven.” Brandon’s dark gaze shot up at Charles from across the table. “You might see to Lady Graven. She had a bit of a spell before. I think she might be better off going home.”

Brandon’s eyes narrowed and slid to Justine. He jerked up from the table. Everyone looked up at once and braced for the worst. Georgina’s hand flew to Justine’s and squeezed it.

“Oh, another round, man, give us a fair turn!” Matthew said, gulping at a glass of wine.

“Another time,” Brandon said, his somber gaze never leaving his wife.

“Oh, let him go, Matthew, for God’s sake,” said William.

“To the winner go the spoils,” Andrew muttered. Brandon raised an eyebrow at him.

“Charles, do sit in,” said Amanda.

“No. Find another.”

“Andrew, sit,” Amanda said.

“Once more, a fine substitution.” Andrew claimed Brandon’s vacant chair.

Charles turned and took Justine’s hand in his and kissed it. “It was a delight sharing a few dances with you this evening, Lady Graven. I look forward to seeing you again very soon. In the meantime, do take care.”

Justine bowed her head. “You are most kind, Mr. Montclare. Good night.”

Georgina kissed Justine’s cheek and smiled at her. “You must come for a visit J. Promise?”

“Oh yes, very soon. So must you.”

A cool hand slipped around her waist and pressed into her flesh right through the thin layers of silk. Brandon jerked his chin at Charles. “Montclare.”

“Graven.” Charles nodded.

Amanda rose from the table, her face lighting up as she looked at Brandon. “What a fine evening it was.”

“Yes.” Brandon took Justine’s hand in his, entwining their fingers. Amanda’s eyes darted down to their clasped hands.

“Good night, Amanda,” said Justine.

Amanda inclined her head. “Yes, good night.”

Brandon ignored William and led Justine away from the table.

“Goodnight, cousin,” William said as they walked past.

They retrieved their outerwear in the hall and made their way down the stone staircase towards the drive where they waited in silence in the chilly, damp air for their coach to be brought around.

“Are you unwell?” Brandon asked.

“T’was nothing. I felt light-headed, dizzy. It passed once I sat outside. Mr. Montclare brought me port.”

“How very attentive of Mr. Montclare. Charles may be diverting, my dear, but he is no nice boy like your Andrew.”

Justine let out a heavy sigh. “He is not
my Andrew
, Brandon. In fact, Mr. Blakelock is engaged to marry Mariah Marchmain, hadn’t you heard?”

“Yes, I did. I am delighted for them both.”

“As am I.”

His eyes pierced hers under the light of the torches. “Are you?”

“Indeed, I am,” she said. “May they find the same wealth of domestic bliss that we have.” Brandon’s lips flattened into a firm line.

Simms, their footman, held the door of their coach open for them, and Brandon plucked at her hand to help her inside, then pulled himself in next to her. The door slammed shut, and a moment later the coach swayed off. The air in the small compartment quickly turned hot and humid.

“Did you enjoy your card game?” Justine asked. “Were you always such an avid player? I suppose your company this evening inspired you.”

Brandon hissed in air and pulled her into his lap with one swift movement. He tugged her legs over his so that she straddled him. Her chest tightened under the fierceness of his eyes and his firm grip. That demanding touch lit a fire inside her, a fire she barely understood. He wrapped a hand around her neck and pulled her down close taking her mouth in a hungry kiss, his tongue searching for hers, lashing, inflaming her further. Her fingers gripped the thick lapels of his great coat.

His hands traveled down to her hips shoving her into position over him, and a sharp breath escaped her when she felt the pressure of his hardness right between her legs, just where she ached for him. The jostling of the coach pushed her against him roughly, and she let out a small cry as the friction between them multiplied her need. He let out a heavy breath as he slipped one hand under her dress over her bare flesh. Her body jerked in his arms, and a low cry escaped her lips as his fingers found her.

“Yes, there you are,” he breathed, his voice thick in the darkness.

He knew her body very well, and she immediately flooded with heat under his insistent touch. He buried his face in her bosom, his other hand sliding down her rear. Two of his fingers slid inside her, and she shuddered in his arms.

“Brandon…”

“You’re soaked.” He let out an expletive-filled groan.

His fingers claimed her depths as his thumb stroked over her, teasing, rubbing. Her arms clutched his neck and shoulders, her thighs tightened, and she came apart sharply in his grip, letting out a low moan.

“You liked that, eh, Lady Graven?” His smug, harsh tone struck her like an icy blast of winter air. Was that scorn, a taunt? Had he just proven a point? Her heart shrank. He had marked her like an animal in heat, showed her who was her master, proved to her to whom she belonged.

She twisted back from his chest, but his strength was too much for her. His one hand fisted tightly in her hair, and he brought their faces inches apart.

“Are you punishing me?” she asked against his lips, the back of her throat stinging. “Are you trying to teach me a lesson?”

His eyes creased. “Punishing you?”

“Yes, yes, punishing me.”

“What the devil are you talking about?”

“I told you you’d hate me for this marriage, you’d resent me.” Her hands pushed against his shoulders. “Tonight you saw what’s been denied you, and you’re angry.” His body hardened under her, his fingers gripped her bare thigh.

“I am annoyed about Charles and Andrew,” Brandon said, his other hand releasing its tight hold on her hair. “But I don’t hate you.” His hands slid over her hips and pressed into her rear. Her breath caught in the darkness. The gentle yet carnal possessiveness of that gesture only set off a spiral of heat in her chest. “I don’t think I could ever hate you, Justine,” he whispered.

The coach rocked on the dirt covered road. The clack, clack of the wheels and the beating of the horses’ hooves the only sound between them. Justine wished she could see his eyes in the dark. Brandon had addressed his jealousy and possessiveness of her, but not his feelings regarding Amanda. Again, he denied and refused. She dropped her head, her shoulders sank.

He brushed a finger across her chin which betrayed the slightest tremor. “I’ve frightened you.” Brandon’s ribs visibly squeezed together and he exhaled. He lifted her off his lap and deposited her on the opposite end of the cushioned seat. The cold air whisked over Justine as she pressed herself into her corner of the coach. She tugged her cloak around her pressing her damp thighs tightly together. He adjusted his clothing and slumped back into his seat, covering his eyes with his hand.