Summer's Secret

by Sandra Heath

  Summer was startled. “I don’t believe you ...” But she remembered the conversation in her bedroom after the ball, when Jeremy had known all about Sir Brand Huntingford and his sister. How had he known about them?

  “It’s the truth, Olivia.”

  “She told me the necklace was a gift from you!”

  “And when I admired it before the ball, she told me she’d purchased it eight weeks ago in Bristol. Two vastly different stories, you will admit.”

  She searched his face. “Neither of which contain a single reference to Jeremy Fenwick.”

  “He is the only reason she ever lies. It was careless of her to give two separate explanations, but then she didn’t think an occasion would arise when her lies would become evident. Well, it did arise, and my suspicions arose with it. From there it was a simple matter to deduce that Fenwick was secretly at the Black Lion that night after all.”

  She toyed with the fur on her cloak.

  “What are you thinking?” Brand asked suddenly, watching the expressions on her face.

  “Jeremy was there that night,” she admitted reluctantly.

  He sat forward sharply. “How do you know?”

  “He told me.”

  “When?” he demanded.

  “He was waiting here at Oakhill House when I returned from the ball.”

  “So he’s in the area! I knew it!” Brand ran angry fingers through his hair.

  “He came to seek my help, but then saw us in the orchard, and—”

  “He was the horseman in the orchard!” Brand said suddenly.

  She nodded.

  He gave a bitter laugh. “And I had him in my sights! If I’d squeezed the trigger, I’d have been rid of him there and then!”

  “And been guilty of murder,” she pointed out.

  “Possibly. Well, I didn’t put a bullet in him, more’s the pity, and he survived to give my sister the necklace, which I’m now more certain than ever was stolen by him.” He leaned back again almost resignedly, except she sensed he was a man who would never resign himself to anything that didn’t suit.

  “Brand, the Jeremy I know isn’t at all as you describe him. He’s kind, a good friend, and—”

  He started forward furiously. “Damn it, Olivia, he’s a common little nobody who seeks to advance his fortunes through my sister!”

  She found his words offensive. The Honorable Melinda Huntingford wasn’t exactly royal, although one might think so to listen to her brother, and Jeremy’s social standing was exactly the same as her late husband Roderick’s, so when Sir Brand Huntingford spoke contemptuously of Jeremy as a common little nobody, he implied the same of Roderick.

  Brand gave an ironic laugh. “Olivia, your precious friend Fenwick is an adventurer in pursuit of a fortune, and Melinda has recently become an heiress. Do I need to spell it out further? He has already endeavored to seduce her. Why else do you imagine I’d put an end to him if I laid hands upon him?”

  “I cannot believe that Jeremy would—”

  He interrupted. “You clearly don’t know him as well as you’d like to think. Just over a month ago, when Melinda stayed with me at my house in Hanover Square, she went riding with friends in Hyde Park and was introduced to Fenwick. He learned of her inheritance and immediately began dancing attendance, so I banned him in no uncertain terms. But it didn’t end. Two evenings later I saw her slipping out and followed her to Grillion’s Hotel in Albemarle Street, where I found her taking dinner with Fenwick. He fled immediately through a back entrance, and I subsequently discovered, although Melinda never knew, that he’d taken a private room in the names of Major and Mrs. Fenwick. I lost no time in bringing Melinda back here to Bevincote and protected her reputation by saying nothing to Lytherby. Now do you believe me?”

  “I hardly think you would invent such a tale,” she conceded unhappily, but it still didn’t sound like the Jeremy she knew. “If he’s really in search of a fortune, and if he did steal the necklace, surely all he had to do was sell the latter to achieve the former!”

  “Dear God, woman, do you imagine he wants to settle for hundreds when he can have hundreds of thousands?’

  Summer stared at him.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Hundreds of thousands!” Summer repeated in amazement.

  Brand nodded. “It isn’t widely known yet, but due to various unexpected deaths in her late mother’s family, Melinda has become a great heiress. That’s why Fenwick is pursuing her so relentlessly, and also why Lord Lytherby probably regrets permitting Francis to make a match with your cousin, although if he does regret granting that permission, I know nothing of it. I’m certainly not his accomplice in any plot to drive a wedge between Francis and Miss Merriam in order to put Melinda forward instead. The Lytherby coffers were emptied by the astronomic cost of turning Bevincote into an Oriental extravagance, but Lytherby wasn’t concerned, because he expected a vast inheritance from a dying cousin. Then a month or so ago—coinciding with Melinda’s great elevation in wealth—that inheritance went elsewhere, leaving his lordship with threadbare pockets.”

  Summer’s lips parted. At last she knew why Lord Lytherby had changed toward the match, and what he’d meant in the billiard room when he said he couldn’t afford Caro as his daughter-in-law.

  Brand continued. “The annual masked ball was an extravagance Lytherby’s finances couldn’t really rise to, but cancelling it would have meant admitting his predicament to the world—and to Francis, who knows nothing of the true situation. I only know because I happened to catch Lytherby a night or so ago when he was maudlin after a little too much cognac. But maudlin or not, he still made me swear to hold my tongue, so what I’ve said to you is in the strictest confidence. Is that understood?”

  “Naturally.”

  “I can conceive that Lytherby is probably pinched to the quick that Francis is in love with your financially humble cousin, but at least theirs is a true and honest love, which is more than can be said of Fenwick’s pursuit of my foolish sister. I’ll see him dead before I permit him to marry her.”

  Summer looked at him again. “If she really loves him, bringing her here to Bevincote won’t make the slightest difference. Love always finds a way,” she observed.

  “She isn’t a fool; sooner or later she has to see him for what he is, and I would much rather it were sooner. It was in order to discredit him that I kept the letter he wrote to you, for its affectionate and suggestive contents seemed likely to convince Melinda that the fellow wasn’t as faithful, noble, and flawless as she thought.”

  He broke off for a moment, his lips pressed together as he met Summer’s eyes again. “Discovering that you and he were probably lovers was a double-edged weapon, Olivia, for if it suggested Fenwick’s unfaithfulness to my sister, it also suggested that you were rather less than I’d hoped.”

  “Jeremy and I are not and never have been lovers,” she said stiffly.

  He sat forward again. “Look, Olivia, I don’t want to keep quarreling with you. I’m desperately worried about Melinda, who is much more headstrong and determined than even I anticipated. I want to protect her from the likes of Fenwick, but since Hanover Square she has become as wily as a fox.”

  Yes, Summer thought, recalling how Melinda had seemed so completely infatuated with Francis at the ball. If Brand was to be believed, that young lady’s affections were actually directed at Jeremy!

  Brand gave a caustic laugh. “And to think that when I arrived at Bevincote, I actually expected to find her full of praise and longing for the Duke of Chandworth!”

  “What has he to do with it?”

  Brand explained. “I encountered him just before leaving town. The manner in which he inquired after her suggested they may have formed a mutual tendresse at Berkeley Castle recently, and I was well pleased, for he is definitely suitable. In the event, however, I arrived at Bevincote to find that she seemed to have warmed to Francis instead. I was relieved Fenwick was no longer on the scene, so did nothing with his
billet-doux.”

  “That letter wasn’t a billet-doux,” she said coldly. “Jeremy was in his cups and being mischievous when he wrote it.”

  “I’d dearly like to believe that, Olivia.”

  “Then do so, for it is the truth.”

  “Truth being something you clearly think I would not recognize if it too had a label attached to it,” he murmured wryly.

  “You chose to say it, sir,” she replied tartly.

  “So I did,” he said with a sigh.

  Summer was beginning to find it difficult keeping disbelieving him, but Sir Brand Huntingford had taken her in twice before, treating her shabbily after both occasions.

  Brand was silent for a long moment, then his dark blue eyes met hers again. “You say Fenwick accuses me of being friendly with his colonel. Olivia, I don’t know any colonels, let alone that particular one. Can’t you see that Fenwick is the liar in all this, not me? Oh, damn the fellow’s vile eyes! He’s ruining my sister’s life, and there seems precious little I am able to do about it! After you’d identified the necklace at the ball, I realized she must have seen him during the last few days, so for the sake of her safety I was obliged to tell Lytherby about the liaison. Now he’s confined her to Bevincote and its grounds, and I have to agree that he has no real choice. At least for the moment we can be sure she is safe.” He looked away, for a moment almost overcome.

  His obvious distress was too touching to be anything other than sincere, and Summer suddenly felt her distrust finally slipping away. She was hardly aware of the beguilingly different emotion that took its place; indeed she didn’t realize anything until she suddenly sat forward to put her hand over his. “I’m so sorry all this has happened, Brand,” she said softly.

  His firm fingers enclosed hers. “I haven’t lied to you at all, Olivia, and now I deny the last charge you have made against me. A gentleman never tells tales on a lady, least of all a lady with whom he’s shared such sweet intimacies as I’ve shared with you.”

  Her heart almost turned over, “I believe you, Brand.”

  He made to put his other hand to her cheek, but she drew back a little guiltily. “I... I haven’t yet told you everything I know.” She related what she’d heard in the billiard room.

  He was silent for a moment when she finished, then he looked at her. “Have you any idea what Bradshaw has begun?”

  “No, except...” She thought for a moment. “Well, he may have said something to Uncle Merriam, although I can’t be sure, nor do I know what it could be.” She related her exchanges with her uncle.

  “Have you said anything to Miss Merriam?”

  “No. Uncle Merriam was at pains to make me promise not to. Will you tell Francis and Melinda?”

  He shook his head. “I think not. We can’t be certain that your uncle’s problem derives from anything Bradshaw has said, and rather than cause unnecessary upset, it’s best we find out all we can first.”

  “We?” She smiled a little. “Are we conspiring together, Sir Brand?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Courtenay, I believe we are, unless, of course, you still nurture deep doubts about me?”

  He put his hand to her cheek again, and this time she didn’t move away. “I don’t doubt you at all anymore,” she whispered.

  He slid his fingers gently into the soft hair at the nape of her neck to draw her lips toward his. Their mouths moved lovingly together, and the passion that smoldered constantly between them began to ignite again. Angry words and accusations hadn’t damped it, suspicion and mistrust couldn’t extinguish it, and to touch one another fanned it into instant flame. His tongue caressed hers gently, and his hand moved sensuously over her thigh through the thickness of her cloak and gown.

  Then he drew her across the carriage onto his lap before kissing her again.

  She sank willingly against him, sighing softly as he slipped a hand inside her cloak to stroke her breast. Her cream woolen gown was thin and delicate, and her nipple eager beneath his knowing touch. He enclosed the entire breast, and his lips became more urgent as his fingers slid between the tiny ribbons fastening her bodice. Her skin was warm and pliable, the swelling of her breast inviting.

  She could feel his erection pulsing beneath her, and she felt almost weak with pleasure as she moved against it. He moaned softly, and she leaned back a little as he undid the ribbons of her gown and put his lips to her upturned nipple, teasing it with his lips and tongue as he took it deep into his mouth.

  They both knew they would make love here in the carriage; their desire swept them along too fiercely for there to be any other outcome. Her cloak parted as he lifted her onto the seat opposite, and she lay there, her exposed breasts soft and pale in the shadowy light. As he knelt beside her to slip his arms around her and put his lips to hers again, neither of them gave any thought to the possibility of discovery. Anyone could have entered the coach house and caught them in their stolen passion, but they paid no heed to such a danger.

  Her hands roamed adoringly over his back and taut buttocks, and then more hesitantly toward the fierce arousal that strained his breeches. Slowly, oh, so slowly, her fingers slid over it. His kiss immediately became more ardent, and after a moment he drew slightly away to unbutton his breeches and free the shaft that pounded with preparedness. He paused as her trembling fingers circled the hilt before moving slowly and wonderingly along its length, then he closed his eyes as she leaned up a little to put her lips to the tip.

  His hand slid into her hair as she took him deep into her mouth, her arms wrapping around his hips to hold him close as for the first time ever she indulged in this most exhilarating of intimacies. Even with Jack she had never done this, but with Brand, oh, with Brand it was the most perfect and exquisite pleasure ...

  Fearing her lips would prove too much, at last he drew away, and she lay back again as he raised her gown and prepared to make her his. She drew him down into her arms, and his erection slid tantalizingly between her thighs, but without penetrating her. She craved full union, but he knew how to prolong her pleasure. His caresses were skillful and more sensuous than ever before, and she was so lost in excitement that she almost feared she would lost consciousness.

  At last he pushed into her, and she cried out, clinging to him with gratification as he began the first of the long easy strokes that intensified her enjoyment almost beyond endurance. The wild hunt was in full cry through her hot veins, and her flesh felt as if it were melting beneath him.

  They reached the zenith at the same moment, their bodies shuddering together as they really became a single entity. Tears stung her eyes. “I love you, Brand, I love you, I love you, I love you ...” she whispered.

  “My love is yours too, my darling,” he breathed in reply, his words muffled because his lips were against hers again.

  Afterward they lay locked in each other’s arms, luxuriating in the gently fading sensations that still undulated lazily through their bodies. She didn’t want those moments to end, but end they must, as she knew only too well.

  At last he pulled away and straightened his clothes, then he gazed down at her for a moment before tenderly pulling her skirts down to cover her again. He crouched beside her once more to retie her bodice, but as he took the little ribbons in his hands, he bent his head to kiss both her nipples in turn, before at last tying the ribbons. “You mean everything to me, Olivia,” he said softly.

  “Oh, Brand ...” She began to link her arms around his neck again, but then paused as from out of the blue a dreadful thought struck her about Jeremy and Melinda. What was the one course any real fortune hunter would take to ensnare an heiress? Why, elopement, of course! She gave a sharp intake of breath. Confining Melinda to Bevincote and its grounds would do no good if all she had to do was ride to a secluded point on the estate boundary, where her lover was waiting with a carriage to whisk her away. And now Jeremy had just such a carriage!

  Brand looked uneasily at her suddenly pale face. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it? Tell me what it i
s.”

  “It may not be anything, of course, but...”

  “Tell me,” he said again.

  “What if Jeremy and Melinda plan to elope?” she whispered. “My carriage is supposed to be under repair at a Gloucester coachbuilder, but there’s nothing wrong with it. Brand, I’ve let Jeremy have use of it.”

  He stared at her, then straightened. “You’ve what?”

  “When he asked me, I didn’t know about his liaison with Melinda, so it didn’t occur to me. He said he wanted to return to Cirencester to try to help clear his name, but...” She looked wretchedly at him.

  A new light cut into his eyes, and he breathed out with slow unease. “Damn it, you could be right,” he murmured, sitting back on the opposite seat and running his hand through his hair. “What a fool I’ve been! After that business at Grillion’s I should have guessed!*”

  “I may be wrong, so please don’t fear the worst.” But the more she thought about it, the more convinced she became that elopement was indeed the reason why Jeremy had wanted the carriage.

  “No, Olivia, your guess is probably only too well-founded.”

  “Oh, Brand, if anything happens, it will all be my fault!”

  “No, my darling, no blame attaches to you, for you weren’t to know,” he said gently, leaning forward to take her hand and raise the palm lovingly to his lips. “This makes no difference, I still love you, but for the moment I must return to Bevincote, you do understand, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “You will let me know if—?”

  “I’ll send word whatever happens.” He squeezed her fingers, then snatched up his gloves and flung open the carriage door to climb out. He retrieved his top hat from the carriage lamp, and a moment later he’d gone.

  The coach house doors swung to behind him, and suddenly the carriage became so dark inside that she couldn’t even see the seat opposite. Then she heard a click before another door closed somewhere, and she realized she was back in her bed at the beach apartment.