The Cynfell Brothers

by Samantha Holt

  But to do nothing...He gritted his teeth and the horse fairly guided himself to the stables, sensing the end of their ride, likely with relief. Though the animals were strong and enjoyed the exercise, it seemed not even they could keep up with him.

  Evelyn could, however.

  Just a shame she refused to let him ease the burden of her work and assist. He could do with keeping his hands busy in other ways than on her body. Not to mention, she was holding back. Pierce dismounted and handed the reins to a stable hand after giving the gelding a pat. He paused as he came away from the stables when he spotted a rider making his way up the main road toward the house. Was this something to do with whatever secrets she was keeping from him? Her body might keep nothing from him but her mind did, and he couldn’t help being curious.

  To unlock all of Evelyn Chesworth’s secrets...now that would be a fine thing indeed.

  Hand to his face to shield his eyes from the rare morning sun, he peered at the rider. As he neared, Pierce’s scowl deepened. What in the devil was one of his brothers doing here? He’d sent word to Julian to inform him of his temporary arrangements. He loathed being answerable to the man but, hell, he did pay his bills. For now, at least.

  When the man dismounted and pulled off his hat to tuck it under his arm, Pierce shook his head. Of all this brothers, he never expected Jasper to visit. His older brother was typically busy doing...whatever it was Jasper did. Causing trouble and getting into fights with angry husbands usually. The third Cynfell brother put even his own gambling debts to shame.

  Pierce strode over and eyed his brother. They all looked alike—as people frequently commented—but with only a year between them, they were the most similar. Same dark hair, same green eyes. Jasper had a tendency to skip shaving but there had been many times when they’d been mistaken for twins. Oddly enough, Ash and Harris were likely the most different looking brothers in spite of having shared a womb.

  Pierce shuddered. Now Jasper had got him thinking of his mother’s womb. He was beginning to resent his intrusion even more.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Jasper grinned and strode over. “Fine way to treat your favourite brother.”

  “Who says you’re my favourite?”

  “I will be after you hear what I’ve done for you.” He glanced up at the manor house. “Aren’t you going to invite me in? Introduce me to this fine woman who’s mad enough to take you for her lover?”

  “Evelyn has more sense than most of your conquests put together,” he shot back.

  “Can’t be that bright if she’s taken you under her wing, but I can’t blame you, Pierce. I’ve heard she’s a fine creature. All of London is awash with the gossip.”

  “London talking of a Cynfell man. How new,” he replied drolly.

  Jasper chuckled. “Yes, though it makes a change that it’s about your lover and not mine. Last I heard you were practically a pauper and no woman would touch you.”

  Pierce led the way into the house and paused to let the butler know they had a guest. He motioned to the smaller drawing room and waited for Jasper to take a turn around before confronting his brother. “I believe, dear brother, you’re confused. I’d heard tell no woman would touch you after that debacle with that French woman. Countess something...?”

  “Pish. Plenty of women willing to fill her spot, I promise you.”

  Sitting, Pierce leaned back and put one ankle over his knee. He affected a bored look. His brother could be known to spend all day trying to best him with words, and he didn’t much have a taste for it, not when he was mightily curious as to why Jasper would take a break from his busy life of sleeping with every woman in London to visit him.

  “As fascinating as tales of your exploits are, will you tell me why you’ve come and disturbed this rather fine situation I’ve found myself in?”

  A grin stretched Jasper’s lips. “Yes, a rich woman’s lover. Even I haven’t succeeded in that. Striking quite the blow for the Cynfell brothers, are you not? I heard you even visited Stourbridge. How did you find it?”

  He thought back to his annoyance at visiting the notorious house and then the ride home. “Interesting,” was all he would say.

  His brother’s smile eased and a seriousness Pierce rarely saw in him entered his gaze. He came to sit on the gilded chair opposite and leaned forward. “Regardless of this rather opulent setting you’ve found yourself in, things are not so pleasant in London.”

  “How so?”

  “I cannot claim to be the most saintly nor the smartest brother but, bloody hell, Pierce, you borrowed from some dangerous men. Far be it for me to interfere, but when I start receiving threats because of your behaviour, I have to speak up. Can’t very well have your business cutting into my social life, you know.”

  He straightened at this. “Threats?” His brothers might like to rile him from time to time and, Lord knows, he’d threatened most of them at one point or another in his life. He might even regret that he had so many of them. But if someone was threatening his family...Pierce curled a fist.

  “Something to do with all this money owed. Impatient sorts, these fellows.”

  “Damnation,” he hissed.

  “Yes, well that’s almost what I said but a little harsher.” He rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. “I can take care of myself. So can the others. But when these rough types start approaching when I’m with a lovely lady, it’s a little off-putting for them.”

  “I’m surprised any of the company you keep finds a few rough types off-putting.”

  “Yes, well, we cannot all bed duchesses. But my point is twofold. Firstly, I resent the interruption, and secondly, think of Julian and Dante. Viola’s pregnant again and I know Josephine is spending time in London because I saw her not three days ago at the theatre. No doubt she’s selling some paintings of hers for vast sums.”

  “You’re saying I’ve put them in danger, is that it?”

  Pierce cursed himself silently but he wouldn’t let Jasper know the thought of his brother’s wives in peril seared through to his gut. Just because he wasn’t ready to settle down and play family didn’t mean he wished any harm to the lovely women they’d married and their families.

  Damn his weakness for cards. Damn, damn, damn.

  “You’re not the first Cynfell to get into trouble, Pierce, and you won’t be the last, but I suggest you get this sorted sharpish.”

  “You know you could have told me this by letter.” He narrowed his gaze at his brother.

  Jasper grinned and made a show of studying his nails before buffing them on this jacket. “Yes, but what fun would that be? Besides I had a hankering to find out about this woman who is mad enough to want you in her bed.”

  “Then you need not wait,” came Evelyn’s voice from the doorway.

  Pierce had to suppress a smile when his brother’s expression faltered before returning to his usual charming composure. They stood and Evelyn swept into the room with all her usual confidence. Dressed in pale green silk, her beauty near punched him in the gut. And if Jasper’s expression was anything to go by, he’d noticed how fine she looked too.

  “Your Grace.” Jasper bowed low.

  “Evelyn, this is my brother Jasper. Jasper, Evelyn Chesworth, Duchess of Ardleigh.”

  “A pleasure.”

  She gave a smile and took her time studying him. It would have been easy for him to be jealous, he supposed, but he’d had her coming apart in his arms only this morning and after those screams, he had no doubt her inspection of Jasper was either to intimidate him or to satisfy her curiosity.

  “I’ve heard of you. Didn’t you cause that scandal with the Countess of Sanvigné?”

  Jasper flicked a glance his way that said Oh I like her before turning a charming smile on Evelyn. “Don’t believe everything you hear, Your Grace.”

  “I rarely do but when one is a friend of the countess, one tends to believe one’s friends.”

  His brother chuckled and Pierc
e couldn’t help but grin. Few men would get the better of Evelyn. Though he certainly made a good attempt at it, at least in the bedroom. There was where any inequalities between them were redressed.

  “Will you be staying for lunch?” she asked.

  “If you don’t mind. Then perhaps my brother can show me around if you have no objections, Your Grace.”

  “None at all.”

  “Well, I shall leave you in peace for the moment. A pleasure to meet you, Lord Jasper.”

  Jasper swung a look Pierce’s way as Evelyn left. “Well, quite the pickle you’ve got yourself in, Pierce. And damn if I’m not thoroughly envious.”

  Chapter Eight

  How could it be? Evelyn studied the letter over breakfast once more. Gone was the swirling excitement she’d awoken with. Now heavy dread weighted her stomach like a stone. Memories of Pierce coming to bed with her to make love to her after his brother had left were replaced with that creeping sensation again.

  She eyed the name on the letter. George Whitbury. He hadn’t been lying at Stourbridge then. He had proof of his dealings with her husband. And yet...

  It didn’t make sense. Rupert didn’t gamble. Her late husband hadn’t been a risk-taker at all. Why would he gamble away almost a quarter of their land? She scowled at the agreement and the signature at the bottom. It was certainly her husband’s but it could be a forgery. However, the witness was a respectable man. Again, she supposed it could be forged too but what a risky business that was. George had assured her Sir Lloyd Chapman would step forward and acknowledge the wager if needs be.

  What was she to do? Drag her husband’s memory through the mud by fighting this wager? Release the land to George and be done with it? How could she relinquish Samuel’s inheritance with such ease?

  “Is something amiss?”

  She glanced up to see Pierce standing behind one of the chairs, his hands clasped around the carved walnut. Her gaze fell on those capable fingers and she recalled how they’d played her body so perfectly. There was certainly much to be said for having a younger lover. He had boundless energy and enthusiasm. However, his commanding ways had taken her a little by surprise. Apparently her body took well to it as did her mind. There was something refreshing about giving oneself up to another for control, particularly when one was used to being in control every moment of every day.

  “No.” She motioned to breakfast on the side table. “Won’t you help yourself?”

  He grinned at her. “I find myself quite famished.”

  “Exercise will do that to you.”

  “Indeed. And we both had quite a bit of exercise last night. Though, Evelyn, you could have awoken me this morning.”

  She wouldn’t admit she had found the sight of him sleeping wholly arresting. How could she bring herself to wake the beautiful man when he looked so at peace? She had spent several minutes watching him breathe deeply and marvelling at the feel of having another person in her bed again. In truth, she’d forgotten what it was like and hadn’t realised quite how lonely she’d felt going to bed alone every night.

  “I thought you needed your rest.”

  “I’m no old man,” he scoffed before turning away to load his plate with sausages and bacon. When he came to sit to the side of her, he nodded to the letter she still clasped. “Why do you scowl at that letter?”

  Evelyn folded the paper and stuffed it into the pocket of her skirt. “You are curious are you not? Surely it is none of your business?”

  “Your welfare is my business. If something is vexing you, I would do what I could to resolve it.”

  Meeting his sincere gaze, she debated telling him. The great weight pressing down her chest begged her to release it all upon him. But she’d been doing everything alone for so long. Could she really share her problems with a man who was still virtually unknown to her?

  The concern in his gaze was the undoing of her. Perhaps it had been his generous lovemaking or the way they now knew each other’s bodies so completely that fostered a sense of closeness, or perhaps it was that in him she recognised so much of herself. Either way, she drew out the letter and unfolded it before pushing it toward him.

  “I recently received a letter from George Whitbury. He claimed that my late husband made a wager with him many years ago. Mr. Whitbury has been out of the country for several years but now he has returned and wishes to claim his winnings.”

  Pierce drew the letter over and scanned the contents. He sighed. “I’m sorry. Many an acre of land has been lost at cards. But at least it isn’t the house or more.”

  “But I don’t understand it. Rupert didn’t gamble. I can’t believe this is real.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t wish to disparage him but I’ve met many a man whose family was in complete ignorance of their gambling habit. It’s not until the creditors are upon their doorstep do they find out.”

  “Does your family know of yours?”

  He gave a wry grin. “Indeed they do. Some of my brothers enjoy the occasional wager themselves but Julian didn’t approve. He’d threatened to cut me off many a time.”

  She tapped the letter. “I knew Rupert well. I loved him dearly and we had no secrets from each other.” Pierce looked doubtful. “Do I seem a fool to you?”

  “No, not at all.”

  “Then I can’t believe that Rupert fooled me. I have to believe that this is a forgery.”

  He lifted the letter again and studied it. “A signature is easily forged but proving so isn’t easy. Have you spoke to the witness? Sir Lloyd. Doesn’t he own several cotton mills?”

  “Yes, but I didn’t know his name until this morning. He promised to send on proof of the wager after that night at Stourbridge.”

  “George Whitbury was the man you met there?”

  “Yes,” she admitted. “That was the only reason I wished to go there. I think he’d hoped his location would put me off meeting with him.”

  He shook his head. “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “What business was it of yours?”

  Releasing a long breath, he took her hand. “Evelyn, you’re an independent woman but there’s no sense in struggling on your own. After all, are you not paying me a handsome sum? You might as well get your money’s worth from me.”

  “And here I thought you did not wish to serve me.”

  Evelyn withdrew her hand, suddenly uncomfortable with the sense of closeness budding between them. She couldn’t depend on this man. He was a gambler after all and he’d be leaving as soon as her son returned. Not to mention she wouldn’t let herself be that vulnerable again. Losing a husband and a son was enough pain for one woman to deal with.

  Pierce jabbed a slice of bacon with his fork and stuffed it into his mouth. He paused to take a sip of tea as he finished and shook his head at her. “If we’re to spend three months in each other’s company, secrets won’t do. Nor will being simply lovers. I’m fairly certain you and I can rub along nicely as friends too, but not if you insist on putting on this haughty act.”

  She opened her mouth and closed it. Haughty? Was that how she was behaving? No, it was merely common sense not to depend on a man like Pierce. Or anyone for that matter. Evelyn had looked after herself for a long time now and that was how she intended to keep it. However, the idea of friendship appealed. She didn’t have that many friends and those she did have led lives as busy as hers.

  Curling her fingers around a teacup, she traced the ornate handle and lifted her gaze to his. “I apologise if I seem...haughty. That’s not my intention. But I’ve functioned on my own for a long time now and I have a certain way of doing things. I can’t promise I’m going to involve you in all my affairs, but I shall try not to behave so...so...”

  “Cold? Unfeeling?” He grinned when she narrowed her gaze at him. “No, proud. Have no fear, Evelyn. You’re speaking with a man who can hardly remember how he ended up naked on the side of the road. You need not hold onto your pride so fiercely.” Pierce leaned over to look at the letter
again. “So what are we to do about this George fellow?”

  We. How odd that sounded. How pleasant. She hadn’t been part of a we for so long.

  “I’ll go to London.”

  “We’ll go to London.”

  “Your creditors shall be there,” Evelyn pointed out.

  He lifted a shoulder. “I can manage them.”

  Evelyn was tempted to argue with that description of himself. Foolish perhaps, but not feckless. Pierce was one of the most intelligent men she’d met in a long time. He had the ability to read her perfectly and converse with such quick wit. Few could match her with words, not even Rupert. He’d merely conceded defeat and used to lift his newspaper when he’d had enough. At first it had aggravated her but eventually it became a long-standing joke between them.

  “I need to meet with my lawyer too, to finalise our agreement, which we still have not done.”

  “Have you been distracted, Evelyn?”

  She pursed her lips to suppress a smile. “Not at all.”

  “What an interesting meeting that will be,” he drawled. “Do lawyers frequently draw up contracts pertaining to taking a lover?”

  “To men taking mistresses, yes.”

  “But to duchesses taking lovers?

  “Likely no.”

  “I’ll need to sign the contract.” He leaned forward and pressed a curl behind her ear. “Face it, Evelyn. You need me.”

  A shiver ran through her. Oh dear Lord, she did. She really, really did.

  Chapter Nine

  Pierce was perhaps beginning to regret his arrangement with this woman. He eyed her pointed chin and the hands on her hips and swallowed a groan. He’d never met a woman so bloody determined to do everything alone.

  Especially when all he wanted to do was take her up to bed and do many, many things together.

  Honestly, what was the point in becoming a rich woman’s lover if you didn’t spend time together in bed?