by Ava Stone
“Something that could hurt your sister?” Brendan roared, rising from his seat, pounding his fist on his desk. “Would that you were so concerned about her before our marriage.”
“Someone should have watched her better, I concede. But—”
“Not someone, Avery! You! While you’ve been licking your wounds over my dead wife, your sister has been subjected to that monster you call a mother. And now you’re worried about Cordie? A little late for that.”
The baron’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean by that? What do you mean my mother is a monster?”
Brendan’s gaze darkened, while the images of his wife’s scarred back flashed in his mind. “Let me be perfectly clear, so there are no misunderstandings, Avery. You have a sadistic mother. And when I saw the injuries she’s inflicted on Cordie over the years, I wanted to kill her with my own hands. I still want to, but that would only bring more pain to my wife and I refuse to hurt her, so I’m controlling my temper as best I can. But you’d be wise to limit my exposure to your mother.”
“Injuries?” the baron echoed, his frown deepening.
How blind was the man, for God’s sake? “More than I can count, all across her back.”
“Oh, my God.” Gregory Avery’s mouth fell open. “I—I had no idea. When we were children mother would…but I didn’t think she still was,” he added in a horrified whisper. “Why didn’t Cordie say something? Why didn’t she tell me?”
Most likely because his head was buried so deep in the sand, she couldn’t depend on his help. Since Avery looked so forlorn, Brendan kept that thought to himself. Cordie was safe now. It wouldn’t do any good to berate the man for a past he couldn’t change, and there were no more younger sisters that needed protecting.
He did, however, still need his mother’s letters. “Your sister is very independent. Perhaps you’ve noticed.” Brendan sighed. “Listen, Avery, despite our…history, we’re family now. Trust me when I say it’s important I get those letters back. My future depends upon it. So does Cordie’s, since she’s my wife.”
Gregory Avery’s green eyes blinked at him. “That bad?”
Brendan nodded. Once.
“Then you’re going to have to tell me what it is, Clayworth. If we don’t find them, I’ll need to have a plan to take care of Cordie, if whatever this is catches up with you.”
“She’s my wife. I’ll keep her safe.” Besides, he’d never entrust her to Gregory Avery’s care.
“You can’t even keep yourself safe.”
Brendan shook his head, then roughly rubbed his brow. Her dowry. He could put it in a trust for her. If he was found out and hung, the title would go into abeyance. The crown would seize all of his assets. But Cordie could get by with her dowry. He was sure he could convince her to watch after Rose and Thomas for him. Once she got to know them, she’d love them, he had no doubt. Never had he met a woman with such strong loyalties. She wouldn’t let anything happen to Thomas or Rose. Cordie was a strong, willful woman. If he set things up right, she’d survive. With the enormous amount her family had bestowed on her, the three of them could live comfortably—without her ever having to reside under an Avery roof again. Perhaps he could move a sizable amount into a trust for Thomas as well, and then—
A knock on his door brought him back to the present. “Come,” he barked.
A lanky, auburn-haired fellow poked his head inside the study. Richard Lester. Could his day get any worse? “Ah, Lester. I heard you were back in Sudbury.”
The young vicar blushed. Brendan wanted to yank the white collar from around his neck and strangle him with it. Rose did not need this.
“Lord Clayworth,” Lester said softly. “I was hoping to speak with you. Is now a good time?”
Brendan glanced at his brother-in-law. “Find out from your mother where she has my letters, Avery. We’ll finish this later.”
The baron nodded, stood, and quietly quit the room.
Brendan gestured to the vacated seat. “Sit, Mr. Lester.” He sank into his own chair, arms folded across his chest, leveling the vicar with his sternest look. It was with only the slightest degree of satisfaction that Brendan noticed Richard Lester gulping uncomfortably. “Well?” he asked irritably.
“I understand congratulations are in order, my lord.”
Brendan narrowed his eyes on the man. “Two years ago, Lester, you left our fair village to seek your fortune, breaking my sister’s fragile heart in the process. Now, it’s not your fault she fell foolishly in love with you, but I do hold you responsible for the way in which you left. A terse note and nothing else.” The vicar shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Only to return now, to offer me congratulations on my marriage? You’ve taken up Mr. Pitney’s post and think things can go back to the way they were before?”
“My lord, allow me to explain…”
“Leave Sudbury. Leave Derbyshire, Lester. Leave England, for God’s sake. I’ll finance the entire thing. But I won’t let you destroy Rose like—”
“I want to marry Lady Rosamund,” the soft spoken vicar nearly shouted.
“No,” he answered coolly.
“But, my lord,” the man pleaded, sliding forward in his seat. “Hear me out. I know I made a mistake when I left. I shouldn’t have done so. I never intended to hurt Rose—”
“Lady Rosamund,” Brendan growled. The collared bastard would at least show his sister the respect that was due her position.
“I never intended to hurt Lady Rosamund,” the vicar amended quietly. “I love her, Lord Clayworth. I always have. That’s why I left. I knew she loved me too. But nothing could come of it. My father would never have allowed me to…” His voice trailed off.
“Your father was right, Lester. Are you daft? You’ve spent enough time with my sister to know she isn’t…normal. She can’t marry you or anyone else. Aren’t you concerned about your issue? Do you want your children to have tainted blood?”
The vicar leapt from his feet. “Don’t you dare say that about her!”
Truly, Brendan had never seen so much fire in the young man before. Still it was a pointless conversation. Rose wouldn’t ever marry. “Go home, Lester. And stay away from my sister. I don’t want her heart broken again.”
“You’re the one breaking it this time,” the young man hissed.
“Well, I suppose it’s my turn then.”
***
Tristan left his chair and took the spot next to Cordie on the settee. He draped his arm around her shoulders and squeezed her elbow. “You don’t know how relieved I am, Cor. I know you were opposed to Clayworth, but he seems like the decent sort.”
Cordie’s irritation drained from her and she shook her head at Tristan. He was so concerned about her, it would be difficult to remain angry with him. “He is the decent sort,” she agreed.
“Do you think you can be happy with him? Do you want one of us to have a talk with him? Make sure he knows he has to treat you well or else.”
Cordie nearly blushed, thinking about exactly how well her husband treated her. “There’s no need for that, Tris. I’m certain we’ll rub along well.”
A few feet away Russell frowned. “What do you suppose he wanted with Greg? Something of a sensitive nature? That sounds ominous.”
Tris shrugged. “He probably wanted to talk about the dowry. A hundred thousand pounds! What was Greg thinking to increase it to such a level? It comes off as desperate in the worst sort of way.”
Cordie cringed. “Mother was convinced I’d never marry.”
“It was a foolish thing to do. Probably kept the right sort away,” Russell added. “There’s only a few reasons a girl has a dowry that size.”
Before Cordie could find out what those reasons were, she noticed a pretty, flaxen haired girl standing in the doorway. She’d seen the girl once before and would never forget her beauty. Lady Rosamund Reese. Quickly, she stood and smiled at her sister-in-law. “You must be Rosamund.”
The girl barely nodded, looking like a fright
ened kitten.
Cordie smiled and stepped towards the girl. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Rosamund. I’m Cordelia, and these are my brothers Lieutenant Tristan Avery and Captain Russell Avery,” she said, gesturing to herself and the two officers.
Lady Rosamund furrowed her brow and tilted her head to one side as if she was trying to sort them all out. Then she nodded, silently.
Reaching her new sister-in-law, Cordie linked her arm with the girl, who looked to be two years her junior. “I’m certain Lord Clayworth will be back shortly. Would you care to join us?”
Rosamund worried her lip. “I’m getting married,” she said quietly.
Cordie’s eyes widened. Brendan had made it seem as if his sister would never marry, that she would stay with them forever. Perhaps she was simply confused, since Brendan had just married. “Are you?” she asked cautiously.
The girl beamed a smile, lighting up the room. “Richard said so. He said he was sorry for leaving me before, but he still loves me.”
“Oh, I’m sure he does,” Cordie said, for lack of anything else to say. It was easy to see why Brendan was so concerned for the girl. She was childlike. Innocent and shy. But she was also stunning. Twinkling twilight eyes and pretty pink lips. It was an unusual combination.
“I am sorry Mr. Pitney died. But now I have Richard again.”
The earlier conversation with Thomas came back to Cordie. Someone named Richard Lester had returned to Sudbury, and Rosamund had been with him. Brendan hadn’t been happy about the fact.
“And he said he’ll never leave again,” her sister-in-law continued, now chatting much faster. “Isn’t that grand?”
“Grand,” Cordie agreed, while her brothers both shrugged.
“Brendan will be so happy.”
Not if the way he reacted in the garden was any indication. Cordie led Rosamund around the room, hoping to find out exactly what was going on. “Does Brendan know Richard?”
“Oh, yes,” Rosamund happily exclaimed. “Richard lived here before. But his father didn’t like me and he made Richard leave. But now he’s back, and he said he’ll never leave again,” she repeated.
“Rose,” Brendan’s hard voice came from the doorway.
Cordie and Rosamund stopped in their tracks to face the earl. His sister’s face lit up once more and she ran across the room, throwing her arms around him. “Oh, Brendan, I’m so happy. Where is Richard? What day am I getting married?”
~ 32 ~
Holding his sister in his arms, Brendan’s heart ached. He couldn’t remember the last time Rose was happy. Damn Richard Lester for returning and filling her head with fanciful ideas. He pulled away from his sister and smiled. “I see you’ve met Cordie.”
Rose scrunched up her nose and shook her head. “Cordie?”
Brendan reached his arm towards his wife and drew her to them. Cordie took his hand, and he smiled. With everything else that was wrong in his life, at least he had her. Maybe nothing would come of his letters. Whoever had them hadn’t seen fit to use them in the five years since Marina’s death. Maybe he was worrying for nothing. “Rose, this is Cordie.”
His sister shook her head. “No, Brendan. This is Cordelia. She told me.”
He laughed. “Dearest, only her mother calls her Cordelia, or her brothers when they’re angry with her.”
The two officers both chuckled from their spots. “Too true, Clayworth,” Lieutenant Avery added with a grin.
“Where is Richard?” his sister asked again. “He wanted to speak with you.”
Brendan’s jaw tightened. “Richard had to return home, Rose. We can discuss this later.”
She shook her head defiantly. “But he said he wouldn’t leave. He told me. What day am I getting married, Brendan? Richard said you would pick the day.”
His blood was nearly boiling over and he wished the vicar was within sight, so he could unleash his frustration on the man. “Rose,” he began with the practiced calm he always used when speaking to her. “We’ll discuss this later. Right now Cordie’s family is visiting and we are being rude.”
Rose shook her head again, just as stubbornly as the first time. “I want Richard.”
“I’m sorry, dear, he isn’t here.”
“I want Richard!” she yelled. “What did you do to make him leave? He told me he wouldn’t leave.”
Apparently, they wouldn’t discuss this later. Brendan squeezed Cordie’s hand, hoping for her added strength. Then he released his wife and grasped his sister’s elbow. “Calm down, Rose. Let’s go to my study, so we can talk.”
“Let go!” Rose yanked her arm free and bolted through the doors.
Without looking back at his wife or guests, Brendan chased after her sister. “Rosamund, stop this instant!” he called after her.
She sped down the corridor and out the front door, then slid to a stop. “Richard!” she cried with relief.
Brendan winced when he spotted the vicar on the front drive. A muscle twitched in his jaw. Why was the man still here? “Rose!” he yelled after his sister.
But she didn’t pay him any attention. She raced down the steps and threw herself into the vicar’s awaiting arms.
Brendan stalked forward. This had gone too far. The man was upsetting his household, which he didn’t need at the moment—not that he’d ever need it, but with the Averys in residence now was the worst possible time.
“You said you wouldn’t leave,” Rose said, tightening her hold on Richard Lester.
The vicar’s angry brown eyes pierced Brendan, though he spoke very softly to Rose as he caressed her back. “Shh. Don’t get upset, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere except home.”
She looked up at him, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Please don’t leave, Richard,” she begged.
The pain in his sister’s voice was almost too much for Brendan to take. Why had Rose been punished with her childish mind? Why couldn’t she have the same life others enjoyed? A hand touched his back, and Brendan turned to find Cordie standing behind him, tears in her own eyes. He pulled her to him and kissed her brow, finding peace in her embrace.
“Brendan, what is going on?” she asked softly.
He shook his head, unable to find his voice.
Cordie leaned her head against his chest and kissed him, then she stepped out of his embrace and walked towards Rose and Richard Lester. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” she said sweetly.
Lester nodded and smiled tightly. “Richard Lester,” he introduced himself.
“So nice to meet you, Mr. Lester. I’m Lady Clayworth. Won’t you come inside and join us for tea?”
Rose hiccupped and Lester brushed the tears off her cheek. His eyes flashed to Brendan and he nodded. “Thank you, Lady Clayworth. That is most generous.”
***
Whatever was going on, Cordie knew it wouldn’t do to discuss it out on the front lawn. Brendan seemed nearly immobile when she turned back to him. “I’m certain you’d rather not have my family witness this, whatever it is. I’m unfamiliar with Bayhurst Court. Where should the four of us have our tea?”
He closed his eyes, as if the process caused him pain. “Cordie, there’s nothing to be done. Let him go on his way.”
There had to be something. It would help to know exactly what the problem was, however. “Brendan, you can explain this to me on the way. Where should we have our tea?”
He opened his eyes, pain reflecting in his twilight pools. “I thought you were going to try to be a dutiful wife.”
“Well,” she said, grinning at him, hoping to make him smile, hoping the husband she loved was still in there, “I’ve been thinking about that. You do realize our vows didn’t specify what was expected of me, not like they would have if we’d married in a church. I think that gives me some leeway.”
He snorted and rubbed his brow. “I knew it wouldn’t last.”
Cordie slipped her hand in his. “I love you, Brendan. That will always last. Perhaps something can be done.” She glance
d over her shoulder at the young vicar and her sister-in-law.
Brendan followed her gaze. “She can’t marry. That’s what this is all about,” he whispered so low only she could hear.
“Why not?” she asked quietly.
“Because it’s not responsible.”
Responsible? Since when did two people loving each other have to be responsible? She’d learned that lesson well. She had tried to be logical in her choice of spouse, and look how that had turned out. She would have been miserable if she’d gotten her way and ended up with Haversham. “Honestly, Brendan, I’m certain there were many more responsible girls you could have married. Now, please tell me where we can assemble for tea?”
Defeated, he shook his head. “The yellow parlor will do.”
She rose up on her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.” Then she turned and smiled at the distraught couple behind them. “His lordship suggests the yellow parlor. Rosamund, will you please direct Mr. Lester there? Your brother and I will join you shortly.”
When they were alone on the lawn, Cordie looked up at her husband to find worry marring his too-handsome face. “There’s no point in pursuing this, love. You’re just going to make it harder on her.”
Cordie didn’t see how that was possible and she shook her head. “Tell me what you’re worried about, Brendan.”
“I’ve already told you. Rose is afflicted. Marriage is not in the cards for her.”
She sighed. “Did you not see the way Mr. Lester looked at her? The devotion in his eyes? He does know of her affliction, does he not?”
Brendan frowned.
“But he loves her anyway? He wants to marry her anyway?” she pressed.
“He hurt her once, Cordie. Walked away from her and never looked back. I thought she would wither away and die, just like Flora did. I can’t let him do that to her again.”