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To Desire a Duke: Dangerous Dukes Vol 8

Page 14

by Wendy Soliman


  Mr Kensley chuckled. ‘I have a feeling that your friend is perfectly capable of disabusing him of any improper notions. She is very outspoken; quite refreshingly so. But if she cannot keep him at arm’s length, Troy will do the job for her.’

  Rachel took her turn to chuckle. ‘I would strongly advise against such proprietary behaviour on your friend’s part. Brione can fight her own battles and won’t thank the duke for taking up the cudgels on her behalf.’

  ‘Troy was most reluctant to let her play any part in this business, you know. He feels it’s ungentlemanly. I was the one who convinced him it was necessary, but he will not take kindly to her being troubled by unwanted attentions.’

  ‘She is sending out signals that she has re-entered society just by being here, so she would be bound to attract attention whether she wishes to or not. Brione is the only one who will have failed to realise it. She is more modest than she has any right to be. Anyway, if anyone is to blame, it is me. She asked to come here as my maid with the specific intention of clearing Evan’s name and I’m afraid I allowed her to talk me into agreeing with her scheme, even though I knew it would be futile.’

  ‘I dare say she can be persuasive. Besides, she is your friend, and naturally you want to help her.’

  ‘She was hiding herself away, which only served to increase the strength of the rumours about Evan, and therefore about her. She is a very beautiful woman and also exceedingly wealthy. It wouldn’t take much of a stretch for the gossipmongers to decide that the wealth in question had to have been accumulated by dishonest means. The ladies in particular will be jealous and resentful, as we have already observed. But really, if they troubled to look at her father’s background, they would know that he had left her exceedingly well provided for. She found herself in a far better position than most of the aristocracy enjoy when they inherit, one imagines. One hears tales of great estates brought to the brink of ruin by taxation and gambling debts.’ Rachel sighed. ‘But the majority of that select group would still turn their backs on her. Her father’s money was made through trade,’ Rachel pointed out, uttering the last two words in a shocked theatrical whisper that made Mr Kensley laugh aloud.

  ‘Heaven forbid!’

  ‘Precisely my point, but Sir Gregory is either sufficiently besotted or so strapped for cash that he is willing to graciously overlook her humble origins.’

  ‘What makes you suppose that he is…’ Mr Kensley raised a hand and pointed. ‘There is your friend.’

  Rachel turned in time to see Brione returning to the drawing room alone, ignoring the efforts of everyone she passed to detain her. Rachel’s glance returned to the shadows from whence she had emerged. A smile touched her lips when a few moments later the duke emerged from the exact same place. She glanced up at Mr Kensley, who merely shrugged.

  ‘Shall we return to the drawing room?’ he asked.

  Brione felt her cheeks burn as she made her way back to the drawing room, wondering what had possessed her to agree to waltz with a duke in the moonlight. She had clearly lost her mind. There could be no other explanation.

  And yet the experience had been sublime beyond her wildest expectations. She had been deeply and exclusively in love with Evan, and yet he had never possessed the ability to make passion lance through her veins with a simple smile. Nor had dancing with her husband caused her senses to reel and a feeling of wild abandonment to overtake reason, making her forget what was important to her. Making her forget everything except the intimacy of the moment.

  The duke, she told herself, was a disreputable rogue who had no business tempting her into…well, whatever it was he was trying to tempt her into. She was here to clear Evan’s name, not indulge in sensual distractions. She tilted her chin, ignoring a greeting that was called to her. She thought it was Sir Gregory who raised a hand but she didn’t look in his direction, not trusting herself to talk to anyone until she had her emotions under proper control.

  The dancing was still underway, but Brione avoided it. She had not the slightest intention of taking to the floor and wondered about slipping up to her room. No one would miss her. Then she reminded herself that she was not here to put her own comforts first, or to enjoy herself with elegant rogues. She had a traitor’s identity to reveal, and she still hadn’t spoken with Lieutenant Vaughan. She noticed him at the side of the room. He was leaning against a wall as he watched the dance progress but didn’t seem interested in taking to the floor himself.

  Brione casually wandered in his direction and was rewarded when he called her name.

  ‘Oh, Lieutenant Vaughan,’ she said, blinking up at him. ‘Forgive me, I did not see you there.’

  The lieutenant smiled at her and she was unsure if he believed her lie. He was a young man and not unattractive, with a fresh face, piercing blue eyes and a strong jaw. She had noticed earlier that some of the ladies had him in their sights but he didn’t show any particular reciprocal interest. ‘We did not have an opportunity to converse earlier when we were first introduced,’ he said. ‘I hope we can rectify that situation now.’

  ‘I hope so too.’ They strolled the length of the room, side by side. ‘I gather you were acquainted with my husband.’

  ‘Indeed. A brave man and a sad loss to the regiment. You have my condolences.’

  ‘Thank you. Many good men needlessly lost their lives and for what? I am told that Napoleon has still not learned his lesson.’

  She watched Lieutenant Vaughan as she spoke and thought she noticed the smallest alteration in his expression when she mentioned Napoleon in such disparaging terms. But that, she supposed, could have been for any number of reasons. Perhaps his thoughts were with his dead comrades or the atrocities he had witnessed during combat. Then again, his reaction could be attributable to reasons that were closer to home. It wouldn’t do to jump to conclusions but at the same time, he was the first of her suspects who had shown any reaction at all, and she took it as an encouraging sign.

  ‘There is the distinct possibility of further fighting,’ he agreed, ‘but that is not a subject that I would prefer to dwell upon in your charming company.’

  ‘I suppose it isn’t suitable, given our surroundings,’ Brione replied. ‘Forgive me, but it is hard for me to make the adjustments after everything…’ She looked up at him with feigned helplessness. Brione despised witless females and had no real idea how to appear helpless, but needs must. ‘I still miss Evan so very much, you see. I am only here because my friend Mrs Woodley made me promise to join her. It doesn’t feel right to carry on as though nothing has changed, when in fact nothing will ever be quite the same ever again.’

  ‘I understand better than you could possibly know,’ he said softly.

  ‘Shall you return to the fray if there is another call to arms?’

  ‘Oh, undoubtedly. I can’t let the duke go into battle without his adjutant. We understand one another well and he would be lost without me.’ He smiled. ‘I’m sorry. That sounded rather arrogant, but it’s true for all that. He depends upon me to keep him organised.’

  ‘Do you not have family commitments of your own?’

  ‘Alas, no. I am the youngest of three boys, so I suppose one could say that I am expendable.’

  ‘What a very pragmatic view. Are you on good terms with your family?’

  ‘I see them occasionally. Neither of my brothers purchased commissions, so we have little in common. I find it hard to discuss their mundane lives after…’

  ‘Quite.’

  ‘I am not sure how we came to be discussing such glum matters.’ He turned a charming smile upon Brione that didn’t quite reach his eyes. ‘Tell me, Mrs Gilliard, what are your plans for the future?’

  ‘I cannot settle to anything until…’

  ‘Yes?’ She finally had his complete attention and decided to follow her instincts. The duke did not get to tell her how to behave.

  ‘Well, I’m not sure.’ She shook her head and didn’t have to fake her distracted expression. ‘It’
s something that Evan said to me just before that fatal battle. Something that was playing on his mind.’

  ‘Did he tell you what it was?’

  Brione glanced up at the lieutenant, convinced that his voice had developed a sharp edge. ‘Something to do with rumours about the integrity of the regiment. It didn’t make a lot of sense. He said it would be safer if I didn’t know too much but that he was absolutely convinced about the identity of something or someone called Conrad.’

  ‘Did he indeed?’ Vaughan looked away briefly, but when he returned his attention to her there was nothing in his expression that gave away the nature of his thoughts. ‘I wonder what he could have meant by that.’

  Brione spread her hands. ‘I am at a loss to know, which is partly why I agreed to come here. I thought perhaps the duke might be able to shed some light on the matter. He was, after all, the regiment’s colonel.’

  ‘Have you asked him?’

  ‘No, I am not sure how to go about it. We are barely acquainted and he seems so preoccupied. So aloof and unapproachable.’ Brione crossed the fingers of one hand, thinking he had been anything but unapproachable when he had waltzed with her on the banks of his lake. ‘Anyway, I don’t know much more than that and Evan didn’t have a chance to clarify. There are some notes of his somewhere. They might tell me more.’

  ‘Do you have them with you?’ he asked, with what sounded like feigned casualness. ‘I could present them to the duke, if you like.’

  ‘No, I didn’t bring them. I haven’t even found the courage to look at them yet. They could be nothing.’

  ‘Has it occurred to you that your husband’s preoccupation might be nothing to do with military matters?’ he asked.

  ‘Whatever else could it have been?’ she asked, glancing up at him and feeling her stomach lurch. Whatever Vaughan was about to reveal, she sensed that she would prefer not to hear it.

  ‘You are not aware?’

  ‘Aware of what?’ She stopped walking and looked up at him, wary yet determined to know. The elusive something that Evan had held back from her continued to play on her mind, and she sensed that Lieutenant Vaughan was about to enlighten her. ‘Is there something I should know?’

  He shook his head. ‘It isn’t for me to say.’

  ‘If you are worried about betraying a confidence then I would remind you that Evan is dead. It is reasonable to suppose that your obligation in that regard died with him; especially since you have alluded to the matter when you need not have done so.’

  ‘I apologise.’ He appeared conflicted and sincere in his apology. ‘It was not my intention to upset you.’

  ‘You upset me more by speaking in riddles,’ she replied impatiently. ‘Nothing you could have to say about my husband can be worse than the possibilities that have run through my mind these past months.’

  Lieutenant Vaughan took her arm and led her into a quiet corner. ‘I naturally assumed that you must already know, or at least suspect, otherwise I would not have mentioned the matter.’ When she continued to look mystified, he had the goodness to enlighten her. ‘Your husband already had an established family in Portugal when he married you,’ he said.

  ‘No!’ Brione’s mouth fell open as his words penetrated her addled brain and her legs almost buckled beneath her. ‘That cannot possibly be. You have got it all wrong. You must have been misinformed. We were legally married.’

  ‘I have no doubt about that.’

  ‘You mean he had a common law wife somewhere?’ She shook her head. ‘Impossible.’

  And yet it made sense on so many levels. It explained why Evan had refused to allow her anywhere near the fighting and didn’t come to see her nearly as often as she had hoped he would. It explained his preoccupation; his disinclination for the intimate side of their marriage, resulting in Brione’s inability to produce the child she so very much wanted. That would require Evan’s participation, but he seldom shared her bed. She had sympathised with him when he said that the sights he’d seen on the battlefield had left him incapable. Now she had to wonder.

  ‘Are there children?’ she asked in a distracted voice.

  ‘I believe so.’ Lieutenant Vaughan smiled sympathetically. ‘Come, let me find you a chair. You have had a terrible shock. I honestly thought you would be aware, otherwise nothing on this earth would have persuaded me to reveal the truth.’

  Brione absently shook her head. ‘I am grateful to you for telling me,’ she said, not questioning the validity of his revelation. She wondered who else had known and why no one had had the courage to tell her. And more to the point, why Evan had married her if his heart belonged to another. What a blind fool she had been! The signs had been there and she had chosen to ignore them.

  She had to get out of here. The need for solitude in which to contemplate and lick her wounds had never been more pressing.

  ‘Excuse me please, Mr Vaughan,’ she said, rushing from the room.

  Chapter Eleven

  By the time Brione reached her room, still reeling from Mr Vaughan’s shocking revelation, gut-wrenching anguish twisted and tore at her insides. She held herself together, somehow responding to Gladys’s chatter while the girl helped her to undress and prepare for bed. Brione dismissed her with muttered words of thanks the moment she had completed her duties, relieved to be alone. She sat beside the fire in her flimsy robe, thought about everything Mr Vaughan had told her, feeling foolish and betrayed, and allowed the tears to stream unchecked down her face.

  It seemed, she decided, choking on a fresh bout of sobs, that she had been an almighty fool and far too trusting, mistaking Evan’s charm for reciprocal love. She knew that the majority of marriages were rarely based on love, but recalled telling Evan that theirs would be the exception that proved the rule. She had been so besotted, so determined to be the ideal wife who catered to her husband’s every whim, that she hadn’t really noticed his lukewarm response at the time.

  ‘And yet I always knew that he wasn’t giving his entire self to me,’ she muttered, staring at the flames flickering up the chimney, feeling hollow inside. ‘I just didn’t want to face the fact and assumed that his distraction was attributable to the war.’

  Brione was unsure how long she sat there talking aloud to herself, a sense of deep betrayal ripping through her, before a tap at the door preceded Rachel letting herself into the room.

  ‘There you are, my dear. I wondered what had happened to you when I couldn’t find…’ Rachel’s words trailed off when she looked at Brione, her eyes puffy and red-rimmed from crying. She gave a gasp of alarm. ‘Good heavens, whatever is the matter?’

  That was all it took. Brione’s tears had slowed to a trickle but Rachel’s concern opened the floodgates. Rachel sat beside her, pulled her into her arms and Brione sobbed her heart out on her shoulder.

  ‘I have soaked your lovely gown,’ she said, hiccupping as the tears finally dried up, leaving her feeling as empty as her aching heart.

  ‘It will dry. I am more concerned about you. What happened? Did some gentleman overstep the bounds?’

  Brione blew out an impatient breath. ‘I wish it was something that trivial.’

  ‘I saw you talking to Lieutenant Vaughan. Did he—’

  ‘Were you aware about Evan?’

  ‘What about him, my dear?’

  The evasiveness in Rachel’s tone caused Brione to focus her complete attention upon her friend. ‘Did you know about his secret life?’ she asked, watching her closely as she formulated a response that took a long time coming.

  ‘Yes,’ Rachel eventually admitted. ‘Or at least, I had heard rumours.’

  ‘And you didn’t tell me!’ Brione jumped to her feet, feeling furious and doubly betrayed. ‘You are supposed to be my friend. How could you not have told me that he was a bigamist at worse, a deceitful, double-dealing, dishonest…arghh!’

  ‘I warred with my conscience, please believe me,’ Rachel said, touching Brione’s arm. Brione looked at her hand and Rachel withdrew it wi
th a soft sigh. ‘I would have told you if I had known earlier in our friendship, but I only heard about it just before his death. And you were so devastated, so devoted to his memory that it would have felt cruel to disillusion you.’ Rachel took Brione’s hand and gave it a squeeze. This time Brione permitted the gesture. ‘I am so sorry, my dear. Perhaps I was being cowardly but—’

  ‘No, you’re probably right.’ Emotionally and physically drained, Brione flopped back down into her chair with a heavy sigh. ‘It was not your secret to tell, and anyway, I wouldn’t have been ready to hear it. What a blind fool I have been!’

  ‘Not at all, my love. I swear, if Evan was not already dead, I would strangle him with my bare hands for treating you so badly.’

  ‘But that’s just the thing. I was so pathetically grateful for any time he could spare me from his duties that I didn’t feel ill-treated. Anyway, who else is aware? Am I the only one who didn’t know? Did she follow the drum with their children? Is that why Evan was so determined to keep me away from the front line?’

  Rachel held up a hand to stem the flow of questions. ‘Yes, he did keep her close. As to who else knew, I really couldn’t say. Most people, one imagines. I am so sorry, my dear. I am sure Evan loved you in his own way.’

  ‘I am not sure of any such thing,’ Brione replied assertively. ‘I wonder why he didn’t marry the girl, if he loved her so much.’

  ‘Religious differences, one imagines. Most Portuguese are devout Catholics.’

  Brione gave a cynical little laugh, feeling dangerously close to hysteria. ‘Not so devout that their fathers preclude them from entering into physical liaisons with men who are not their husbands, it seems.’

  ‘I am glad you know,’ Rachel said. ‘I just wish I could have found the courage to tell you myself. I suppose I was worried that you wouldn’t believe me and that it would cost me our friendship. I don’t know. How does one tell a dear friend that the man she adored was behaving dishonourably?’

 

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