Wolfsgate (47 page)

Charles stood motionless. “Say it was an accident. Say it, dammit.” Brandon only shook his head and glowered at Charles. “He couldn’t have done this, not to his own sister.”

“He did do this,” Brandon said. “And more.”

Charles turned his head away and sucked in air. “Christ! How could he go this far?”

“Because he’s always shown nothing but contempt for her, and he’s had nothing but contempt for me for a long time. Now she’s my wife, and she’s carrying my child.”

Charles paled. “Dear God, did it survive?”

“So far, yes.”

Charles moved closer, his mouth a hard line, his eyes narrow. “Damn, I warned you, Graven.”

“You dare come here tonight to show your dramatic sympathies, your bloody concern?” Brandon asked. “Such a bastard! All along you were playing a very fine role in William’s intricate little plot.”

“You played your own game, Graven, let’s not forget.”

“Pity for you I never had any intention of putting my cock inside Amanda. You didn’t count on that though, did you?”

“Graven—”

“You assumed she’d suck me right in, and I’d be thrilled, grateful even. You were so wrong. You do well to remember that Justine is not so pliable to one such as you, dripping with honeyed compliments and florid attentions.”

Charles’s eyes flashed. “Your wife appreciated the attention, I’ll have you know. How did you think she felt watching you and Amanda catching up on old times over and over again?”

Brandon knew Charles was right and he hated himself for it, but this very second he hated Charles more. He lunged at Charles, his fist landing on his jaw. Charles fell back on the icy ground cursing. He managed to get up on his knees as Brandon stood over him, the two of them breathing heavily.

“I loathe myself for my role in this deception.”

Brandon rubbed his hands together. “As well you should.”

“I truly like Justine.” Charles wiped side of his mouth with the back of his hand as he rose to his feet.

“I’m warning you, Montclare.”

“No, you idiot, I mean she’s a fine, good woman, intelligent. I could not in all conscience go through with my original plan of seduction.”

“One more word, and I swear—”

“I’m being forthright here!”

“Should I be impressed?” Brandon scowled at him. “Are you saying you actually have a conscience?”

“Yes, dammit!” Charles brushed the snow and grime off himself. “I’ve come to realize that self-indulgence truly reeks after a while.

Brandon lifted an eyebrow. “Oh? And how did you come to that brilliant conclusion?”

“It was seeing you with Justine. She enters a room, smiles at you and you’re…different. Her concern for you and desire to keep you safe, happy, and comfortable are obvious. And you for her safety and happiness. It’s as if there’s some sort of secret language between you that only the two of you share and understand.” He wiped a hand over his face. “It surprised me.”

“Surprised you?”

“That I liked it!” Charles said. “I don’t know what that is, never been aware of it before. Look at me. I keep running around in circles. Same circles, different players. Like I did with Amanda.”

“I really don’t want to hear this.”

“No, I need to tell you, Graven. I pursued Amanda after you left England, and she enjoyed it. I fell hard or thought I had. But she chose to marry William. He beat me to it, asking for her hand.”

Brandon wiped his brow with his arm. “He just struck a better bargain, more like.”

“Yes, probably,” Charles said. “About a year ago she became flirtatious and wouldn’t take no for an answer. I wanted her, always have, but I wanted to punish her too. So I took her. At the end of it, I knew I’d be the one able to walk away free, and she’d still be married to William.”

“Montclare, really.” Brandon’s jaw hardened.

“They’re not unhappy together, you know. She has a great affection for him, she’s simply greedy in many different ways.”

“I don’t give a damn.”

“I was looking for a way out. Then when I saw you and Justine together—”

“You decided you wanted to change up for my wife?” Brandon asked.

“No! Well, yes, but that’s not my point here.” Charles’s palm went to his temple. “I realized how your wife loved you, and what that was—the bloody grace of it. A man could endure a great deal if it meant he’d have a woman of such fine character at his side, the way Lady Graven is at yours.”

“I think you admire more than her character.”

“Your wife is indeed a beautiful woman, Graven.” He cleared his throat, his eyes meeting Brandon’s dark gaze. “In the end, I felt small and piteous, not to mention deceitful to the both of you and, dare I say it, deceitful to myself. Forgive me, Brandon. I beg you.”

Brandon crossed his arms. “So now I am to believe your attraction to manipulation has suddenly lost its luster?”

“Yes, that’s what I’m saying.”

Brandon smirked as he untied his horse’s reins. “You’re too good at it though. It’ll be difficult for you.”

“You got over your compulsion for opium, did you not?” Charles asked.

“The struggle never ends Charles, be forewarned.” Brandon lifted himself up into his saddle.

Charles tightened his lips together. “Where are you off to? Is there anything I can do?”

“I need to pay my cousin a visit,” muttered Brandon. He rubbed the side of his horse’s neck.

“Now?” Charles smoothed down his waistcoat. “Are you sure?”

“Quite sure.”

Charles’s eyes narrowed. “What are you not telling me?”

“Get out of my way, Montclare.” Brandon drew on his reins.

“Hang on, Graven. I’d better come with you and prevent you from getting sent off to gaol for murder.” Charles unfastened the reins of his horse at the post.

“I don’t think William will be too pleased to see you,” Brandon said.

“No matter.” Charles cocked an eyebrow. “I’ve got you at my back, haven’t I?”

Brandon shoved at the ornately carved doors of Crestdown and marched through the long front hall. One large candelabra held a mass of candles flickering their wan light across the gold-trimmed walls. Melting snow and water shook from his boots and cloak. Charles strode in behind him.

Amanda’s eyes widened at the sight of them, her hands clutching the polished handrail at the top of the staircase. “What are you doing here?”

“Where is he?” Brandon’s voice echoed in the long hall. His harsh tone made her face tighten.

Amanda swept down the stairs, her head held high, her lips pursed, the gold-painted flowers along the stairwell glimmering in the dim light as she passed. She reminded him of an overwrought actress making her debut on an excessively decorated stage. “What do you want?” She frowned at the puddles on the parquet floor.

“Your husband has much to answer for,” Brandon replied. “Now where is the bastard?” Amanda flinched.

“Don’t worry, Amanda. This isn’t about you, disappointing as that may be,” Charles muttered as he threw open the drawing room doors. He pushed open the gold trimmed doors of the dining room next, but it too was empty. He shot Brandon a look, and Brandon turned on his heel and charged down the dark hallway towards the library.

“Has something happened?” Amanda asked.

“This is going to get ugly, I suggest you go back upstairs.” Charles followed Brandon.

The library door was closed. Brandon turned the handle, but the door was locked. He tried it again more forcefully this time. Strangled voices rose from within the room, and Brandon kicked at the ancient door handle. Amanda screeched from somewhere behind him. The bolt gave way, the wood splintered, and the door bounced ajar. Behind the desk, Martin held William in a chokehold, a knife held firmly at his throat. Blood stained the front of William’s shirt at his chest and side, and his wrists were tied behind him with rope.

“William!” Amanda’s voice rang out.

“You started without me, Martin,” Brandon said.

“Christ!” said Charles pulling Amanda back.

“He must bleed like the animal he is for hurting her,” declared Martin. His sweaty face turned to William’s. “For that lash you gave her. For that scream of hers that filled the whole house. Can you not still hear it, Mr. Treharne? I bet it comes to you in your dreams, eh? A scream like that never fades from memory. It’s in my dreams.”

“Dear God, who is he talking about? What is going on?” Amanda stumbled back into Charles. He steadied her and shoved her to the side with a warning look.

Martin lashed the knife across William’s arm and drew a line of blood. “I heard her crying when she thought she be all alone in the world.” Martin’s eyes blazed over William. “And every night after for months. Now this today. No. You must be stopped. And if none of you fine gentlemen will do it—” Martin’s burning gaze flared at Brandon and Charles “—I will. He’s one of your own after all.” He dragged the blade over William’s chest this time, and the blood seeped from the torn flesh. The knife halted and remained at the artery in William’s neck.

William moaned, his body stiffened, then twitched for an instant. His head fell forward and his legs buckled, then surged up again. “No better than a pig,” Martin hissed.

Brandon moved closer. Martin’s head snapped at him, his eyes wide. “Time’s over for the gentleman’s way. He must pay for what he done. With blood.” Martin drew the knife into William’s shoulder and dragged it down his arm. Blood poured from the ripped flesh, and William grunted. Amanda shrieked once more. Charles darted forward.

Brandon held out his hand to stop him. “Judge and jury then, it works for me. You hold him, Martin. I’ll ask the questions. Charles, you keep Mrs. Treharne out of the way.” Martin brought the knife back to William’s neck.

Brandon stood before his wretched cousin. “Why did you do it? Why did you call her out and have Simms cut her saddle?”

William’s eyes struggled to focus on Brandon. “Answer!” Martin pressed the knife in on William’s flesh.

“What have you done?” Amanda’s shaky voice rose up.

William’s dazed eyes raked over Brandon, his breath labored. “You have her in your bed, don’t you?” he muttered. “Why should she bear your merry-begotten? A precious heir for your precious Wolfsgate?”

Amanda’s hands flew to her mouth.

Brandon laughed. “You put her in my bed, William. You bound us together by marriage. You shoved that quill in my hand. May I take this opportunity to say thank you for my wife, cousin.”

William struggled to meet his gaze. He grunted, stumbling against Martin.

“I know what happened in my house when I was away. I know what you did to her. How could you? She was part of your family.”

“She is not my family! Her and her mother—interlopers, the two of them.”

“She was a girl who only had you for her protection, who depended on you for everything.”

“She is nothing to me.” William raised his face higher grimacing with the effort. “She resisted my wishes at every turn, kept pleading for you. She had to do as she was told.”

“Dear God,” muttered Charles.

William’s head hung from his shoulders. A hiss and groan of breath heaved from his bloodied lips. “Did I ruin her for you?”

Brandon backhanded William hard across the face, then again across the other cheek, the splitting cracks ricocheted around the library. Spittle and blood splattered against the leather-bound tomes that lined the ordered shelves. Brandon’s eyes glittered over his cousin. “That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it? To ruin her for everybody?”

A sneer twisted William’s face as he hung his heavy eyes on Brandon. He spat blood on the floor, a bitter laugh tumbling from his torn lips. “I’ve had both your women, and that gives me great satisfaction.”

“I’m going to be sick,” Amanda exclaimed.

Brandon shot Martin a look then threw a punch at William square in the face. Blood gushed from William’s mouth soaking his teeth. He choked and heaved for air.

“Tell me he deserves to live, sir,” Martin said. He scored William’s flesh with the knife once more. William howled.

“Please, oh please, stop!” said Amanda.

“Listen to that, William,” Brandon said. “Surprisingly enough there is one person begging for mercy on your behalf. Or maybe she’s only thinking of herself yet again, eh? Quite touching either way.”

“No mercy for this beast,” said Martin.

“Yes, he is a beast, and he deserves to suffer and more for everything he’s done, but you don’t deserve to hang for it, Martin.” Brandon’s teeth dug into his bottom lip. “Although I would dearly love to assist you in his demise.”

William’s body swayed. More of Amanda’s muffled cries rose up.

Brandon sat up on the ornately carved rococo desk and crossed his arms. “Let us bargain, cousin. Are you listening?” William grunted and his eyes flickered up to meet Brandon’s. “Martin releases you. Martin disappears. You and your wife go on and lead your interesting life together undisturbed in London. You stay the hell away from me and my wife, from Wolfsgate, and the entire bloody village unless I allow it at some point in the distant future. Furthermore, we never discuss this again. Every single one of us in this room is honor bound to silence.”

William twisted in Martin’s hold, his face black.