Before she could flip it back over, there was a knock on the door. Luke said, “Come in.”
Manny entered and bowed. “My lord?”
“Yes, Manny?”
“My lord, a group of officers have stopped at the front gate and asked for hospitality for the night.”
Luke immediately said, “Of course. Invite them in and have Jarvis come to me.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Luke rose and peered through the library window. Tired horses held by red-coated soldiers waited outside. The sun lowered and long shadows striped the lawn and carriageway. Brigitta’s warm breath struck his neck as she hovered behind him, and Luke swallowed and instructed himself not to turn and take her in his arms.
“So many? Will there be room for them all?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Is there anything I can do to help the staff prepare?”
He shook his head, her warm teasing breath continuing to distract him.
“If I cannot help with the preparations, am I at least allowed to help with the welcome?”
“Yes. We shall go together.” She gave a delighted smile and he offered his arm. They walked toward the front entrance. Jarvis met them and Luke gave instructions.
Jarvis rushed ahead and by the time Luke and Brigitta stepped into the foyer, the soldiers had already been escorted to the dining hall where the footmen and kitchen staff had quickly laid out a cold collation of meats and cheeses. They welcomed the officers and found seats among them at the table.
The commanding officer, a man by the name of Colonel Smyth, introduced the others. The footmen served the meal and the colonel and his men dove in heartily.
Brigitta sat between Luke and the colonel.
“What brings you to Stockport?” asked Luke.
“We are on our way to an encampment near Brighton. We’ve heard much about, um, Stockport, and decided it would be a good place to stop for a brief respite.”
Luke frowned. Rumors of Brigitta had traveled farther than he’d expected.
“And what have you heard of our fair area, Colonel?” asked Brigitta.
Luke widened his eyes and stared at the colonel. The answer came out as a stutter. “W-well, I–I heard about the b-beauty of the baroness, of course.”
“Oh, thank you,” said Brigitta, a rosy hue covering her face.
Luke relaxed as the evening wore on and no one mentioned the previous spectacles at the estate. The entire party retired to the living room and the footmen brought out gaming tables. Four people gathered at each table for whist.
Brigitta took a seat and Luke hurried to sit across from her but was too late. The colonel had commandeered her as his partner and Luke was left standing on the sidelines watching.
****
The colonel took his turn as dealer. So far the two of them had won two hands; a third and they would have the rubber. Her heart raced with anticipation.
She took the hand with a grand slam and jumped to her feet, hugged the colonel, and planted a chaste kiss on his cheek. “We won!”
Embarrassed, the colonel said, “Yes, we did.”
Brigitta clapped. “I believe we should have music. Yes, let’s have music and dancing.”
“But you are the only lady,” said the colonel, adding, “you might become tired. And whoever would play for us? I’ve seen no musicians in our midst.”
She waved the words away. “Oh, nonsense. I could dance with every one of you twice and still not tire. And if need be I could play, the pianoforte, at least.” She tapped her finger to her chin. “But I guess it would be hard for me to dance and play at the same time.”
The colonel grinned, bowed, and stepped back. Luke took his place. Anger twisted his face and his brows drew together over his darkening eyes. She paused, her delight evaporating.
He grabbed her arm and whisked her away to an empty corner. Her back touched the wall. Blood drained from her face and the room wobbled. Officers stared openly, leaning in and whispering to one another. They looked like salivating dogs, the games of whist all but forgotten.
Between clenched teeth, he whispered, “What are you doing?”
“I’m playing hostess.”
“Perhaps you should retire.”
“But I’m not tired.”
“There will be time for socializing tomorrow.”
“But I’m not tired,” she said, stomping her foot.
Instead of making his request again, he grabbed her arm. Heated stares followed them until Luke sent the officers a scowl. He escorted her upstairs. When they arrived at her suite, she said, “Why are we here? I thought I would stay with you in your room? We did have a good day, didn’t we?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Yes, we had a good day, b-but since I have to ensure the officers are well placed, it would be better if you stayed within your own suite tonight.”
She pouted but went along with his demands. Closed inside her room, she lay upon her bed and twiddled her thumbs. Voices echoed up from downstairs. Later noises came from the officers en route to their chambers.
She rose and stared at the flames flickering in the fireplace. Afterward, she rifled through her closet. Lastly, she sat at her desk and pulled out paper and a quill. The words flowed naturally and when she finished she had written a perfectly romantic letter to her husband.
****
Chadwick took the hatred of the other men in stride. If they were not bold enough to ask for a walk with Zilla, then they did not deserve time with her.
He held his arm out and Zilla grasped it. They walked through the ballroom’s French door to the gardens behind the Elis house. Clear water sparkled in the fountains. Surrounded by decorated hedges, the couple strolled along narrow paths. Behind them was the faint echo of footsteps.
“It is a fine evening,” said Zilla.
“Yes, it is.” He held his chin aloft as he’d seen Luke do. Pretending to be his regal brother had begun to bore him, but he reminded himself it was for a worthy cause: to line his pockets.
Zilla twittered a fan before her face. “I find the afternoons extremely hot. How about you?”
“I’m comfortable.”
She closed the fan, tapped it to her chin, released her grip on his arm, and walked backward in front of him. Curious, he came to a stop and she halted and circled him. Expressions of admiration flinted across her face and he imagined a predator circling its prey.
In a hoarse whisper, she said, “I can’t figure out your game.”
“Excuse me?” The cravat felt tight around his throat. Had he been found out?
“Oh, I don’t mean cards, for you are absolutely terrible at that. But I mean the game you are playing with Father.”
He opened his mouth to deny her claims, but she placed her finger over his lips. “Do not speak yet. I know, as I suspect several others do, that you are not the baron. You do look like him, almost as if you were his twin. But you carry yourself differently and you are definitely not as charming as he. It is as if you are like the night and he like the day.”
“I think I should take that as a compliment.” He fought a grin, satisfied to be recognized as someone other than his brother, whether he was labeled charming or not. She removed her finger from his lips and led him to a stone bench.
They took a seat. She leaned toward his ear and whispered, “My father and all his friends are so boring. I’m tired of the fancy parties that lead to men older than my father leering at me like I’m a piece of prized beef at auction.” She ran her fingernail along the pulsating vein in his neck and he swallowed. “I’ve long known I’m not beautiful and I’m not easy to get along with. In fact, several have called me shrew on more than one occasion.”
He hastened to decline the rumors but she shook her head. “Do not try to lie to me and tell me I’ve heard incorrectly. This would mean I’m either ignorant, naïve, or stupid, none of which I consider myself to be.”
She stood and walked behind him. Leaning forward with her e
lbows on his shoulders, she whispered, “I know you attempt trickery, but what I don’t know is why.”
“And?” He forced himself to keep his speech in an even tone.
“And, I find I do not care about the why. I wish to assist you.”
He cocked a brow.
“You see, your brother spurned my affections. Although I must admit they were hardly genuine. I tried to run him off because Father wanted him as my mate. But since you’ve returned in his place, my father has been suspicious, put out even, by your new temperament. This suits me fine.”
He grabbed her hands and brought her around until she sat beside him once more. “What do you propose?”
“That is exactly what I propose.” Her thin lips shifted into a wide smile.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The next morning Luke hurried to the dining hall. The cheerful, talkative red-coated officers surrounded the buffet table as they filled their plates. Luke glanced around the room, hoping to find Brigitta and have a word, but she was nowhere in sight.
The colonel raised his hand in greeting. “Good morning, my lord.”
“Good morning, colonel. I expect you slept well.”
“Indeed, it is the best sleep I’ve had in some time.” In between bites the colonel said, “I see the baroness has yet to come down. I do hope our presence hasn’t been too much of a burden on her.”
“I’m sure that is not the case.” Luke stood and called for Letta. “Have you seen the baroness this morning?”
“Nay, my lord, she has yet to call for me.”
“Please go along and fetch her.”
Letta curtseyed and shuffled away. Luke returned to the colonel and resumed his seat. Jarvis was in the library, busily preparing invitations to local young ladies for an afternoon dance. The day appeared to be looking up.
****
Brigitta’s stomach growled as she paced her bedroom. Grabbing the doorknob, she rattled it yet again. The infernal thing was locked. Pure nuisance, being locked in one’s room. Over her shoulder she sent a passing glance to the bell rope. What was the use? Pulling the infernal rope had never helped before.
Sighing, she beat upon the wood and shouted, but no one came. Gowns lay strewn across her bed. She rubbed her temples and tried to remember how they got there. The thought flitted away. Unconsciously, she gathered two in her hands.
The door opened. “My lady, what are you doing?”
She followed Letta’s astonished stare and looked down. Quite unaware, she had tied several gowns together and was in the middle of securing them to the bedpost. “I–I don’t know,” she stuttered. Was she going mad?
Letta furrowed her brow but let the subject drop. Instead she said, “The baron would like to see you in the dining hall, my lady.”
“Of course,” she said, dropping the gowns. “B-but maybe I should clean this up first.”
“Let’s get you dressed then you can go. I’ll clean it, my lady.”
Brigitta rubbed her aching head and the room wavered. Letta suddenly appeared before her as if she’d sprouted from the floor, grabbed her hand, and before she quite realized it, led her to a chair.
“My lady?”
“I’m all right. I just felt a bit unsteady, is all.”
“Should I retrieve the baron?”
She shook her head. “No, just give me a minute and I’ll be fine.”
“I will straighten up your things.”
Brigitta nodded. Letta finished cleaning, and then assisted Brigitta in selecting a gown and dressing. They reached the dining hall as most of the officers exited and offered a greeting in passing. By now her equilibrium had returned and she felt more like herself. Worry over whether she was ill threatened to bog her down, but she pushed it aside.
She approached Luke, sitting at the table’s head with a cup of coffee cradled between his hands. Beside him, the colonel sat back and laughed at something the baron had said. Brigitta wished she had something to laugh at.
Angry at their cozy tête-à-tête, she balled her hands on her hips and demanded, “I want to know why you locked me in my room. I have felt positively dreadful all morning. I went so far as to tie my gowns together and consider lowering myself out the window, before Letta entered and caught me in a swoon.”
Luke knitted his brows in confusion and the colonel’s eyes widened.
“Well, my lord, do you have anything to say for yourself?”
Luke scooted out his chair, stood, grabbed her arm, and escorted her into a corner hidden from the remaining guests. “I would politely ask that we discuss this matter at another time.”
His lack of concern for her increased her rage. “I do not think so. I believe we shall discuss it now. I am tired of feeling like a prisoner in my own home. You will stop locking my door, and you will allow me to stay in your rooms at night, or I shall be forced to quit this marriage and return to the village as a ruined woman.”
Her chest heaved, and she crossed her arms and waited for his amicable reply. Surely in the presence of the officers, he would acquiesce and they could fight the real battle later, but perhaps she was wrong. As the thought crossed her mind, his eyes widened and the pressure of his grasp increased until it was intolerable. Surely she would be bruised by day’s end.
Dragging her from the room, he didn’t speak. They ended in the library and he slammed the door.
Prudence demanded she apologize for her rude behavior, but something inside begged her to be silent and let his anger bubble to the surface. The two opinions warred within her as Luke paced. His arms waved up and down and his lips moved rapidly without speaking any actual words. Perhaps she was not the only one going mad.
Finally, without speaking, he headed for the door as if he meant to leave her alone. “Where are you going?” she asked, running forward and cutting him off.
“I’m going to tell my guests you’re ill but should be better in time for tonight’s dance.”
“I’m not ill.”
“You’re not?” He stopped and glared at her. “If you are not ill, then you must be mad, for no woman, my wife or otherwise, would dare stand up to me like that in front of a room full of people.”
“I–I—”
Luke’s face morphed bright red. “No excuses or amount of apologizes will make me forget the embarrassment you have brought upon me. Do you not realize those officers have come here to find fault with Stockport? And when they have found the proof they seek, they will carry it back with them to London? The atrocious behavior you exhibited,” he shuddered, “I cannot began to think how I will make you appear respectable in their eyes.”
Outwardly composed, her anger escalated beneath the surface. Yes, she had made mistakes, but so had he and she had yet to receive an apology. Taking a deep breath, she thought about the villagers. Regardless of her situation, they deserved better. She said, “Perhaps I deserve the censure you afford me. However, I assure you I meant no disrespect to the fine people of Stockport.” She gnawed on her lip, squared her shoulders, and continued. “These last few days have been increasingly difficult. My memory has been so scattered, I feel at a loss to discover who I am.
“I have this sense that being locked in my room is a norm and one I found to be vehemently distasteful. Can you prove me wrong in that?”
He didn’t speak and Brigitta felt a rush of satisfaction tinged with anger.
“I promise that during the dance I will rectify the officers’ bad opinion of me.”
He nodded.
“Now, as for what I said earlier, I have no intention of leaving the estate, but I would rather spend the night with my husband than separated from him. I do not think this is an illogical request.” Her heart pounded in her chest as she waited for his reply. Would it be romantic or gallant in nature, or would he order her to a nunnery?
He turned and stared out the window. He held his shoulders stiffly and she gnawed on her lip with worry. Her heart plummeted to her feet as she added, “But perhaps I’m wrong. I h
ad thought our evening together denoted romantic feelings, but perhaps I am your wife in name only and you prefer another’s company in your bed at night.”
He rounded on her, eyes wide with fury. For a moment he looked as if he were going to strike her. Perhaps she’d gone too far? She collapsed onto the sofa, pushing herself into the cushions until the back threatened to cut into her shoulder blades. But instead of approaching, he stalked out.
She sighed with relief and prayed she could find a way to rectify her spiraling situation.
****
Even if he walked the estate’s entire grounds, he would never forget the words Brigitta had uttered. What a fool he’d been! He should have demanded Chadwick tell her the truth in the very beginning, then he could have pursued her as a free woman.
Instead he was left with her hazy memories of her life before, hastily combined with her life as of now. The two combined and conflicted, and caused him no amount of difficulty, not to mention the confusion and frustration Brigitta had suffered.
Luke marched around the chapel and through the glen where just the day before they had been set to be truly wed. Now the area was nothing more than a clean valley with running vines and tall trees. Frustrated, he continued on to the pond. Geese landed on the water, dipping their heads beneath the surface and filling their bills.
What was he going to do? Roland would arrive home soon. If he was truly unlucky, then Roland would return with Chadwick. As soon as Brigitta saw them together, the paradox would no doubt cause her great distress. At which point he would be forced to explain the entire circumstances of their past relationship, as well as her relationship with Chadwick.
Why had he not just kept her at the summer house? He could have told her the entire truth there and then whisked her away to London for a proper wedding. The time had passed where he should have to live behind a guise of deceit.
The crux of the matter was, he should not have allowed Chadwick’s lie to continue. Now he had tainted his own relations with Brigitta and the lie he lived made him no more trustworthy than Chadwick.
Hurried footsteps pattered behind him and he turned. Brigitta stopped, her hands folded neatly in front of her, and waited.
Andrews Brothers 01 - The Ruse Page 18