A Notorious Love

by Sabrina Jeffries

  And looking very much the part. He’d replaced his fustian coat and trousers from yesterday with a tailcoat of dark brown kerseymere, buff leather breeches, and a striped waistcoat, all of which were remarkably well-tailored. He looked attractive, even gentlemanly.

  But none of the other attributes of a gentleman were in evidence. As always, the illusion of good breeding on Mr. Brennan was as thin as the veneer of oils on a painting; a mere scrape of a knife would expose raw canvas beneath.

  And no canvas was rawer. His speech and manner proclaimed his true character, brash and ungoverned. Instead of tempering his opinions as a man in his position ought, he voiced them freely. Amazingly, his client did not seem to mind. Then again, Mr. Brennan’s familiar manner did have a certain appeal. It always had.

  A tiny part of her wished she could be like that—say and do as she pleased without thought to the consequences, without worrying about Mrs. N’s rules. But look where such recklessness had led Juliet.

  She would not make the same mistake. Besides, Mr. Brennan was reckless enough for both of them.

  “I’ll invest the funds this very day, Brennan,” his client said as Mr. Clancy handed him his coat and hat. “Knighton must have been mad to let you go. But his loss is my gain, eh, old fellow?”

  “Just be sure to look over that other proposal.” Mr. Brennan spoke in a brusque and confident tone. “Your gain will be trebled if you invest in that coal mine in Wales, your grace.”

  A duke, for heaven’s sake. One of his clients was a duke, and Mr. Brennan spoke to him like an equal? His investment advice must be valuable indeed.

  “Don’t worry,” the duke was saying, “I’ll consider it carefully. I’ve seen what your counsel has brought Dryden and Blackmore, and I don’t intend to lose my chance at it. I’ll be sure to make my decision before you return from your trip.”

  Trip? All her interest in the duke vanished. She searched Mr. Brennan’s face. Then his gaze met hers, and she knew. He hadn’t found Juliet or Mr. Morgan in London.

  The two men continued to talk, but she just sat there numb, wishing she could shove the loquacious duke out the door. Now what? Did Mr. Brennan intend to go after them? But why would he do so after grumbling about her request for his assistance?

  She was so distracted, she didn’t notice the surreptitious glances the duke was paying her until he said, “I’d best depart now. I would not wish to keep you from your other visitor.”

  Startled, she glanced up to find him eyeing her with interest. No doubt he thought her one of Mr. Brennan’s fancy women. The very idea made her blush.

  Thankfully, Mr. Brennan had the good sense not to introduce her and hurried the man out. By the time he returned to her side, she’d already pushed herself to a stand.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting, m’lady.” He offered her his arm. “Shall we go back to my office?”

  “Certainly.” She took it, though holding on to him seemed incredibly intimate. But when his gloved hand covered hers, alarm bells of a different sort jangled in her head. He was being very kind and courteous. Had he discovered something he knew would alarm her? Cold fear turned even her good leg to lead.

  “Have you been waiting long?” he asked as they made their slow way across the foyer to a hallway.

  Her worry made her curt. “Yes—a whole day, if you’ll recall. But I could not expect you to put aside a duke to attend to a mere annoyance like my sister’s—”

  He cleared his throat, and she looked up to see him glance meaningfully at the clerk. Merciful heavens, she must be more discreet. And less tart-tongued.

  Honey, she reminded herself. I must scent my words with honey.

  Glancing around, she forced a smile to her lips. “Your place of business is very pleasant. Very tastefully furnished.”

  “I claim no credit for that. Mrs. Knighton did it all.”

  “Rosalind did this?” Rosalind was many things, but tasteful wasn’t one of them.

  “Christ, no!” he exclaimed, then seemed to remember to whom he was speaking. “I meant Mrs. Leonard Knighton. Griff’s mother.”

  “Oh, of course.” That made more sense. Rosalind would have draped the walls in violet silk and gold tassels or something equally…provoking.

  “Speaking of Griff’s mother,” he said, “is she still at Swan Park with your father?”

  “Yes. I was thankful she could stay there with him while I came to London.”

  He made no answer. Having run out of innocuous conversation, they both kept silent until they reached the end of the dark hallway.

  He led her into a cramped office piled high with newspapers and books. As he closed the door, she glanced around. This looked more like what she’d expect. Assorted documents littered his desk: snippings from newspapers, letters, and what were probably invoices and bills of lading. All were marked in ink—portions circled, notations scribbled in the margins. An odd device resembling beads on a loom lay atop one pile.

  He caught her staring at it. “It’s an abacus,” he explained. “One of Griff’s trader friends taught me how to use it for calculations.” When she nodded absently, he added, “But you didn’t come here to learn about the tools of a trader. Sit down, if you please. We have much to discuss.”

  Her pulse stuttered. “Why? Where are they? Have you found them?”

  With a sigh, he circled to stand behind the desk. “No. They’re not in London.”

  Though the news came as no surprise, it still struck her hard. She hadn’t realized until just now how much she’d hoped that he’d find them quickly. “You’re sure.”

  “Yes. They were here, mind you, but they’re not here now. Half a dozen people remembered seeing them both at an inn called the Golden Lion three nights ago. And another several saw Juliet get into a hired carriage with Pryce the next morning.”

  “Pryce? Who’s that?”

  “It seems that Will Morgan is an alias. The man’s real name is Morgan Pryce.”

  An alias. Lord, she couldn’t breathe. The scoundrel was using an alias. “And I suppose he has some nefarious reason for changing his name.”

  “We don’t know that. I expect all he wanted was to make it harder for somebody to follow them.”

  “But is he a smuggler?”

  He hesitated. “It’s…possible.”

  “Merciful heavens, I knew it! I knew he was a bad sort! What does he want with Juliet? No, I know what he wants, the wretch. He wants to ruin her, to hurt her—”

  “Calm down, m’lady. He doesn’t want any such thing. He called her his fiancée more than once, and nobody ever saw him lay a hand on her except in courtesy. From all I could gather, he truly wants to marry her.”

  “If he wants to marry her, it’s only for her dowry—you know that!”

  “We don’t know yet what he’s after.” He spoke with an edge of impatience, even irritation. “Everybody I spoke to said he treated her very respectfully. You may be wrong about him. Free traders aren’t all bad, y’know; he might only be eager to marry.”

  Her worry twisted into a fury most uncharacteristic of her. “Then he’ll have to settle for marrying one of his fellow smuggler’s sisters, because he is not getting mine!”

  “He’s already got her—that’s the trouble.”

  “But not for long. You have to help me now. You must!”

  “Of course. Why d’you think I spent last night in the taverns finding their direction and this morning preparing to leave?” Resignation laced his words. “Besides, I like Lady Juliet. She may fancy herself in love with the rascal, but she can’t know what she’s got herself into.”

  “Of course she doesn’t! Juliet is the most naive, trusting girl in England. He probably spun her a romantic tale to sweep her off her feet.” She stabbed her cane into the carpet viciously. “Well, he can just set her right back on them, because I shan’t stand for this!” Her gaze fixed on his broad shoulders, the ones that seemed capable of bearing any burden. “When do we leave, Mr. Brennan? I can be ready
very quickly, I assure you.”

  He cocked his eyebrow. “We? We aren’t going anywhere. You are going back to Knighton House and staying there until I return with your sister.”

  “What? Not on your life! I shan’t sit here and twiddle my thumbs while you race about the countryside. I’m going with you.”

  He drew himself up with all the stubbornness of a man used to making his way alone in the world. “You’ve got no choice in this. I won’t take you.”

  “Then I shall hire one of those Bow Street fellows to take me.”

  To her shock, he burst into laughter. “A runner? Not bloody likely. Yesterday you didn’t even know what they were.” He sobered. “Besides, you’re too concerned about your sister’s reputation for that. And with good reason.”

  Oh, the man could be so exasperating. “All right, then I’ll follow you myself. Alone, if I must. You can’t prevent me from traveling the same road as you if I wish.”

  That wiped the smug assurance right off his face. “You wouldn’t be so foolish.”

  “Is it foolish to do all in my power to help Juliet?”

  “Following me won’t help her. You’d just get yourself into trouble, too. You’d be prey to every blackguard and varlet who trawls the highway. And what will you do if one of them tries to take your money or worse? Fight?”

  “If I must. I’m not worried about myself, only Juliet.”

  Rounding his desk, he strode up to loom over her. As always, his sheer size roused a trifle apprehension in her chest. She feared no man, but Mr. Brennan was not just any man. For one thing, despite her height, her nose reached only to the top of his shoulder…his big, brawny shoulder attached to an arm that could fell her with one swipe.

  He was so close now that his breath warmed her cheek. “See here, Helena, can’t you trust me with this at least?” His tone was softer, laced with genuine concern. He’d never used her Christian name without her title, and it seemed shockingly intimate…and thrilling at the same time. “I’ll bring her back safe as can be. There’s no need for you to go.”

  “But there is. I know what he looks like. That sketch is not nearly good enough, but I can recognize him—”

  “And I can recognize your sister, which is all that matters.”

  She went on the offensive. “What reason could you have for not taking me? Other than the stupid ones you’ve given so far?”

  “Stupid?” He stepped back from her with a low oath. “To be concerned for your safety? Pryce might be a smuggler, remember? I’ll have to go into seedy taverns and unsavory inns to ask after him, places you shouldn’t even enter.”

  “I don’t have to go into all those places with you. I’ll simply stay out of your way while you do.”

  “You’ll stay out of my way, all right,” he growled, “here in London where you belong.”

  “You have no say in the matter, Mr. Brennan. Though I prefer to have your help, I refuse to take it if it means you travel without me. I followed them to London successfully, and I can follow them out entirely alone.” She held out her hand. “If you will just return my sketch and miniature and tell me which direction they went—”

  “Bloody hell, woman! What will you do once you catch up to them? Give Pryce one of your Lady High-and-Mighty stares and order him to release your sister? Lay him low with your contempt? The cut direct may make your kind quake in their boots, but it only angers mine. Act haughty in my world, and you’ll find yourself knocked back on your elegant arse.”

  She pointedly ignored his insults, not to mention his coarse language. “I’ll convince Juliet of her folly, and if that doesn’t work, I’ll…I’ll summon a constable. Or pay Mr. Pryce off.” When Mr. Brennan shook his head, she went on heatedly, “I don’t know what I’ll do, all right? But I’ll stop him however I can.”

  What she wanted was to unman the wily Mr. Pryce, which would definitely break some rule in Mrs. N’s guide. Besides which, she didn’t have the faintest idea how to go about it. “I’m going after them, with or without you.”

  “What about your reputation?” he snapped.

  That brought her up short. “What about it?”

  “You travel alone with me, and you might as well throw it away. Such behavior isn’t proper for a lady, and well you know it.”

  “I suppose bringing a maid along is out of the question?”

  “It’s all out of the question, damn it!” he roared. “It’ll be difficult traveling with one woman under these circumstances, much less two!”

  She sniffed. “Well, forgive my presumption, but I didn’t think it would hurt to ask.” When he drew himself up like a snorting bull about to charge, she added hastily, “In any case, I’m not concerned about my reputation.” She thrust the point of her cane at him. “And since when do you care about what’s proper? A man who greets his visitors half-clad is in no position to lecture on the proprieties.”

  “A lady who takes offense at it is in no position to flout them, either.”

  “Under the circumstances, I have no choice. Besides, it’s not as if anyone need know we’re traveling together.”

  He gaped at her as if she were insane. “What about the inns we’ll have to frequent, the posting houses, even the road itself? You don’t think anybody will notice a refined lady traveling with a low-born lout like me? You don’t think they’ll talk about it? Spread the tale from here to kingdom come?”

  She swallowed. She hadn’t actually considered that. “Then we’ll just…I don’t know…invent a story about why we’re together. We’ll tell people you’re my brother.”

  His laugh mocked her. “Oh, aye, they’ll believe that. You and me are just two peas in a pod, aren’t we? You might as well claim we’re lovers, because that’s what they’ll think if you try to pass me off as your brother.”

  Lovers! The very idea! She ducked her head, striving to hide her blush beneath her bonnet’s brim. “You could…pretend to be my servant.”

  “Oh, you’d have a fine time with that, wouldn’t you?” he snapped. “You’d enjoy an excuse to whip me raw with your tongue whenever you take a notion to it. But I’m not putting myself in that position, so give up that idea right now, m’lady.”

  “I-I didn’t mean—”

  “There’s only one explanation that anybody might believe—and I say might because it’s as ridiculous as those others. You could pretend to be my wife. No one would question a woman traveling with her husband.”

  She lifted her gaze to his. Was he serious? She searched his face, the grim slant to his mouth, the hint of calculation in his gray eyes. Hard to tell. Yet the very idea turned her insides to jelly. “How does that differ from my pretending to be your sister?”

  He shrugged. “Men of my kind don’t have sisters born above themselves, do they? But they do marry above themselves—which is why Pryce can succeed at carrying off your sister.”

  “That’s absurd.” Yet she knew he was right. Still, was that satisfaction she glimpsed in his face?

  He gave an exaggerated sigh as he strolled back behind his desk and began stuffing items into a small leather bag. “Well, then, there’s no help for it. You’ll have to stay here. If you travel with me unchaperoned you’ll be ruined for sure, and we both agree you can’t pretend to be my wife. A pity.”

  “I didn’t say I can’t,” she hastened to correct him. “Or even that I won’t.”

  His head shot up and his gaze burned into her. “You’d travel as my wife? Share a room with me if necessary? Because that’s the only way I’ll let you go. I’ll not be responsible for ruining your future, and nobody’ll ask questions if you travel as my wife.”

  Now she knew he wasn’t serious. Share a room with her, hah! He didn’t even like her. He was just trying to scare her off, the wretch.

  She tossed her head back. “If that’s the way it must be, then yes, I will.”

  “Like bloody hell, you will!” he exploded, proving her supposition correct. He raked his fingers through his hair, leaving the
blond, rough-cut locks more unruly than before. “I’ve never met a woman as stubborn as you.”

  “You can’t dissuade me from this, you know. I don’t care about the dangers, I don’t care about your dislike of me, and I certainly don’t care if some strangers gossip about me afterward. I only care about Juliet.”

  Her hands trembled, but she went on even in the face of his black scowl. “Don’t you understand? When you find her—if you find her—you’ll need me, if only to convince her she can’t marry this wretch. She certainly won’t listen to you on such a matter. Besides which, I just can’t…sit here and wait to find out what has happened. I have to do something.”

  When his frown softened the merest fraction, she pressed her advantage. “And I can be of use to you—I know I can. Surely there will be places where my rank or my sex can work in our favor. I could make things easier for you by ensuring that our lodgings furnish everything required for your comfort while you’re making inquiries or—”

  “Enough, m’lady. The last thing I need is you seeing to my comfort.” His gaze played over her with an odd mix of emotion—exasperation tinged by something else, something shattering and dark and dangerous. He drew in a ragged sigh. “But if you go with me, there’ll be conditions, d’you understand? You’ll have to consent to all of them before I’ll even consider it.”

  Hope filled her. “Of course. Whatever you say, whatever you want.”

  “Don’t be so quick to agree. You won’t like them.” He crossed his arms over his barrel chest, looking for all the world like a powerful genie guarding the entrance to the treasure cave. His eyes assessed her coolly from bonnet to boots. “First, you’ll have to dress different. Your pretty gowns will call attention to us, not to mention tempt every thief in three counties. You’ll have to wear the plainest gowns you can manage—no lace, no fancy furbelows, no—”

  “Done.”

  His scowl deepened. “Second, you do as I say without complaint. We eat when I say, stop when I say, and take lodgings when and where I say. Understood?”

  She bobbed her head vigorously.