“It has nothing to do with you being good enough.”
She turned back in frustration. “Then what does it matter to you?”
“It matters because I will kill him,” he bluntly admitted. “Is that clear enough for you, Brianna?”
She stumbled backward at his blatant threat.
“You’ve gone stark raving mad.”
“Perhaps I have.” Edmond offered a shallow bow. “Keep that in mind the next occasion you throw yourself in Stefan’s arms.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
AFTER THE SCENE IN THE garden, Brianna knew it would be impossible to return to the house and pretend nothing had occurred. Instead, she continued down the graveled path that led to the pretty grotto that possessed a perfect view of the lake.
It had always been one of her favorite places, and in the past, she had spent hours playing with her dolls or serving Stefan pretend tea upon the marble bench. There had also been a few hours devoted to spying upon Edmond when he had lured one of his numerous ladies into the nearby maze so he could steal kisses, and probably a great deal more.
Brianna paced the marble tiles, struggling to slow the rapid pace of her heart.
Why was he acting like a jealous husband, prepared to attack at the least hint of provocation?
After nearly an hour of brooding, the only conclusion that made the least amount of sense was the fact that Edmond’s possessiveness had nothing to do with her and everything to do with Stefan. Although the two brothers openly loved one another, there was no doubting there had always been an unspoken competition between them when they were younger. A simple game of croquet could come to near blows.
The explanation did nothing to ease the smoldering anger. It was hardly flattering to be thought of as a piece of property, but it did help her to restore those fragile barriers that protected her heart.
Whatever this was between her and Edmond was no more than a passing madness. A brief flame that would burn itself out and leave nothing but fading memories.
The reassuring thought had barely passed through her mind when the sound of approaching footsteps had her swiftly glancing down the path. She had a moment of near panic before it eased, as she realized the darkly handsome male rapidly making his way to the grotto was Stefan, not Edmond.
“Brianna? Am I intruding?”
“Of course not.” She managed a smile at his hesitant tone. “Please join me.”
Walking up the steps, Stefan stood next to her at the open window.
“You have been out here for a considerable length of time. Is anything the matter?”
“I am just out of sorts.” Her attention returned to the glitter of the lake. When she was just a youngster, Stefan had often taken her fishing at the edges of the water, and even taught her to swim despite his mother’s chiding that it was hardly seemly for Brianna to be splashing about in nothing more than her shift. A faint, longing ache touched her heart at those carefree days. “’Tis nothing to trouble you.”
“I would be a poor host if I were not troubled to have one of my guests so unhappy.” His fingers trailed a soft path down the curve of her cheek. “What did Edmond say to you?”
Astonished as much by his unexpected caress as by his words, she turned to meet his searching gaze.
“What?”
“I saw the two of you. In the garden.”
“Oh.” A heat stained her face at the thought that Stefan had witnessed the ridiculous argument. “It was nothing.”
“Brianna, I have been accused of being remarkably dense when it comes to understanding my fellow man, but even I could tell the two of you were fighting.”
She breathed out a deep sigh, realizing she could not disguise her lingering anger.
“Edmond has always managed to be the most aggravating gentleman I have ever encountered. Even when I was a child, he made me furious more often than not.” Her lips twisted. “Nothing has changed in the past dozen years.”
His expression was skeptical. “My dear, it is obvious that something happened between the two of you while you were in London. Do you not trust me enough to confess the truth?”
Instinctively she reached out to grasp his hand. “Stefan, I would trust you with my very life.” She held his gaze as she gave his hand a slight squeeze. “You must know that. But…”
“But?”
“This is between Edmond and myself, I would prefer to keep it that way.”
His eyes darkened as he regarded her for a long, oddly tense moment, as if he was wrestling with some inner emotion.
“I see.”
“I am glad one of us does.”
There was another silence, then Stefan squared his shoulders and his features hardened with an unexpected hint of steel.
“Will you sit with me a moment?”
Brianna gave a puzzled dip of her head. “Very well.”
Together, they moved the short distance to settle on the marble bench, their hands still clasped, as Brianna waited for Stefan to break the silence.
“I think perhaps it would be best if I explain something about my brother.”
“Actually, I know quite enough,” she muttered. “He is arrogant, overbearing and utterly ruthless in getting what he wants.”
“True enough, but he is also deeply wounded.”
“Wounded?” Brianna blinked in shock. “Edmond?”
A hint of remembered pain darkened Stefan’s eyes. “I know it is difficult to believe. He is always so careful to appear invulnerable, as if nothing can touch him. Especially not another person.”
“He loves you.”
“Yes, but he refuses to allow anyone else close to him. He is…frightened of opening himself up to affection.”
Brianna warned herself to leave the grotto. To simply stand and walk away.
Edmond had taken her independence, her innocence and most of her wits. He could not have her sympathy as well.
But of course she did not leave.
Instead, she leaned forward and gave in to the treacherous curiosity.
“Why?” she breathed.
“You know that my parents drowned when their yacht sank in the Channel?”
“Of course.” The pain of learning the Duke and Duchess had died had been far more devastating than the death of her own mother. They had been more than kindly neighbors who had taken pity on a lonely little girl. They had represented her only proof that true love did exist in the world. The death of the glittering, loving couple had seemed a travesty of devastating proportions. “I cried for a fortnight.”
The pain deepened in his eyes. The entire family had been unfashionably devoted to one another.
“What most do not know is that they were traveling to London because Edmond had been caught in some mischief with his friends and hauled before the magistrate. It was not truly serious, but of course, my father was determined to ensure that Edmond was fully aware of his displeasure. They…never made it.”
Her fingers tightened on his hand. “Oh, Stefan.”
“It was horrible for me, but even worse for Edmond. He blames himself, you see. In his mind, our parents would still be alive if not for his mistakes. I am not certain he will ever be able to truly bury his guilt and forgive himself.” He gave a shake of his head. “Until he does, he can’t risk allowing himself to care for another.”
Her heart twisted with a sharp, wrenching pain at the thought of a young Edmond closing himself off from the world and believing he was to blame for the death of his parents.
How could anyone live with such a heavy guilt?
It would be like a disease slowly eating away at his soul.
Without warning, she recalled his outrage at Thomas Wade’s intrusion into his home, his fury when he spoke of Stefan being in danger and the sharp terror on his countenance when she had been shot on the balcony.
“He fears he will fail them. That’s why he never allows others close.”
Stefan heaved a sad sigh. “I have tried to do what I can, but so far
it has not been enough.”
“I do not think that Edmond is the only one who carries guilt, Stefan.” She reached up to lightly touch his cheek. “I am certain that you have done everything possible to help your brother.”
His own hand lifted, covering her fingers and pressing them even tighter against his face.
“Perhaps, but it does not make it any easier to know he suffers.”
“No, I suppose it does not.”
“In any event, I just thought it might ease the tension between you and Edmond if you understood why he pushes others away.”
“I am not certain that anything can actually ease the tension,” she said wryly. “And no doubt it is for the best.”
“Brianna?”
Strangely comforted by his touch, she offered a smile. “Yes?”
“I want you to know that you always have a home here at Meadowland.”
Her breath caught at his soft words. She had been alone for so very long. To know that, whatever the future might hold, she would always have a home was as precious as the finest jewels.
“Thank you, Stefan. That means more to me than you can ever know.”
“It is the least I can do after…”
She shifted to press her fingers against his lips. “That is all in the past.”
He lightly grasped her wrist, his thumb gently rubbing over the steady pulse.
“And my offer is not entirely selfless, you know.” His hand tightened on her wrist as she threatened to pull away, his lips moving against the tips of her fingers. “You have grown into an incredibly beautiful woman, Brianna. So beautiful, you take my breath away.”
She stilled, not at all certain how to react to his astonishing words.
“Stefan?”
Maintaining his grip on her wrist, he turned her hand so he could place a gentle, lingering kiss on her palm before releasing her.
“I realize that you have always seen me as a friend, but I am a man as well, my dear. One that is quite capable of appreciating the charms of an intelligent, lovely young maiden. Especially a maiden who has always owned a very large part of my heart. No, do not say anything,” he interrupted the words trembling on her lips as he rose to his feet. He gazed down at her with an expression she had never thought to see on his face. The expression of a man physically aware of a woman. “I merely wished you to know that I am here for you, should you have need. I must return to the house. Will you walk with me?”
She gave a slow bemused shake of her head. She could still feel the imprint of Stefan’s touch upon her wrist. Not the searing, dangerous sensations that Edmond created, but more a comforting warmth that was not at all unpleasant.
“Actually, I do not think that would be entirely wise,” she at last managed to mutter.
“Why on earth not?” he demanded, his brows lifting as a blush crawled beneath her skin. “Good lord. You fear Edmond would be upset?”
She shrugged. “He is being particularly pigheaded today. I would prefer to avoid a scene.”
“What did he say to you, Brianna?” His lips thinned at her stubborn silence. “Then let me put it this way, did he threaten bodily harm to you or me?”
She shook her head, feeling weary. “I told you, it does not matter.”
“It matters a great deal.”
“Please, Stefan.” She stepped close enough that she could lay her hand on his arm. “I will not have you and Edmond at odds because of me. Just return to the house and I will follow.”
He looked as if he would argue, then, perhaps sensing she was at the end of her tether, he gave a grudging nod.
“Very well.” He moved to the door, pausing to glance over his shoulder. “Brianna.”
“Yes?”
His gaze rested on the faint shadows beneath her eyes. “I do not fear Edmond, nor will I hesitate to throw him from the estate if he chooses to make a pest of himself. You are not only safe at Meadowland, you are safe with me.”
EDMOND HAD PACED STEFAN’S overcrowded office for nearly an hour before his brother at last made a grudging appearance. A fact that did nothing to soothe Edmond’s ragged temper.
His brother religiously devoted his evenings to poring over his tedious ledgers or studying the latest farming journal; nothing was ever allowed to distract him from his ritual, not even Edmond’s rare presence at Meadowland. But on this eve, Edmond was finally forced to send one of the endless footmen to wrench Stefan from hovering behind Brianna as she played on the pianoforte.
He had suspected his brother was vulnerable, but he had not expected the grown man to trail after a slip of a girl as if he were moonstruck.
Hearing approaching footsteps, Edmond sucked in a deep, calming breath as he peered out one of the windows into the darkness beyond.
The entire day, he had concentrated upon the plot to harm Alexander Pavlovich. He had written a dozen letters to warn his comrades in Russia, he had sent a coded missive to Pavlovich in Prussia, and he had made a list of every known associate of Viktor Kazakov. He did not intend to take any risks.
The tasks should have kept him fully occupied, but instead, he could barely concentrate.
Time and time again he had found himself at the door of the library, barely able to keep himself from charging from the room to track down Brianna, only the sheer force of his desire keeping him from giving in to temptation.
To give in to the weakness would prove he was no longer in control of his emotions. Something his pride would not allow.
Instead, he had hidden away like a coward for the day and then grimly pretended indifference as he sat through the interminable dinner watching Stefan and Brianna chat with obvious delight.
At last, he had been driven to this remote office to await Stefan, his pride intact and his mood black as the night sky.
Stefan entered the room and closed the door behind him. “You wished to speak with me?”
Edmond swallowed the harsh words that trembled on his lips.
“Yes. I thought you should know that my suspicions have been confirmed. Those near accidents that have been plaguing you were not accidents at all. They were quite deliberate.”
Stefan leaned against the edge of the desk, appearing more disappointed than shocked.
“You are certain?”
“Quite certain.”
“God, it is unbelievable. So Howard actually…”
“No, it had nothing to do with our contemptible cousin,” Edmond denied. “A pity, really.”
“Then who the devil was it?”
“I am shamed to admit that you were nearly killed for no other reason than to lure me from Russia,” he admitted, revealing all they had discovered in London.
Stefan listened in silence, shaking his head in disbelief as Edmond finished.
“It seems an incredibly complicated scheme just to be rid of you.” He studied Edmond with a lift of his brows. “They must greatly fear your abilities.”
“As you know, Russians are a superstitious lot.” Edmond shrugged. He was well aware his talents were formidable, but he was also wise enough to know that he was far from invincible. “By a combination of luck and skill, I have managed to unmask a great number of traitors. I suspect that I have become something of an evil omen to those who have long plotted to be rid of Alexander Pavlovich. No doubt they hoped their luck would be altered if I was out of the country.”
Stefan straightened. “So you intend to return to Russia?”
“Of course. Although Alexander Pavlovich has not yet returned to Russia, I have sent a note warning his guards to be on alert. I sent another to Herrick in St. Petersburg to tell him of the dangers. In the meantime, I intend to travel back to London to keep an eye upon Viktor Kazakov.” Edmond clenched his hands at his sides. “The man has devoted the past decade to overthrowing the Romanov rule. He will not be content to remain in England when it is time for the trap to be sprung. He will want to be close at hand to take the glory if they are successful. I intend to be on his trail.”
Stefan scowled. “I do not like the thought of you taking such risks, Edmond. Czar Alexander has an entire Court, not to mention thousands of soldiers, to keep him safe. Why will you not stay here, where you belong?”
“Because I do not belong here.” Edmond raised a silencing hand as Stefan threatened to interrupt. “No, it is true. I was never intended to live the life of a country gentleman. I do not give a fig about fields or tenants or cows. Within a fortnight, I would be seeking every vice available to ease my boredom. In the end, I would either be shot by a cuckolded husband or a hotheaded greenhorn who lost his allowance at the card table.”
Stefan did not bother to argue. They both knew it was more than an age-old guilt that kept him from settling at the family estate.
“So instead, you hunt assassins in the wilds of Russia?”
“St. Petersburg is hardly the wilds of Russia,” he said dryly. “Indeed, Russian society has become almost civilized.”
“I suppose there is no means to halt you. When do you leave?”
Edmond’s smile faded. His duty was unmistakable.
“I must return in the morning,” he forced himself to say. “You will be relieved to know that I intend to put off my charade as the Duke of Huntley and return to being the poor younger son.”
Stefan waved aside his words. “Is there anything I can do to assist you?”
“I need you to keep a close guard upon Brianna.” He at last managed to force the words past his unwilling lips.
“You fear she may be in danger?”
“I fear you both may be in danger. These men are fanatical in their desire to take power from Alexander Pavlovich. There is very little that they would not dare, if they thought it would further their goals.”
“She will be safe in my care. That I can assure you.”
It was precisely what Edmond desired. With the vast army of servants that filled Meadowland, both Stefan and Brianna would be beyond the reach of Viktor Kazakov. They would be safe and he would be free to concentrate upon the plot to overthrow the Czar.
It was not relief, however, but a dark, ruthless anger that flooded through him at Stefan’s solemn promise.
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