Briana flushed, knowing this man could turn her heart to pudding with just one of his kisses.
"Not there, my lord," she murmured, looking at her food.
Sir Gerald snickered as he tipped the water glass to his lips. "Not the Romeo one has always heard about, eh?"
Briana stared at the man, aghast. Just then, the footman came from behind to place a silver pot of hot coffee upon the table. Clayton accidentally bumped the servant as the man leaned over the table and the coffee spilled onto Sir Gerald's lap.
Briana leaned back as Sir Gerald shot up in pain. Curses flew from his mouth, and the whole assembly fell deathly quiet. The entire front of the man's breeches was steaming with coffee.
Flabbergasted, Briana glanced at Clayton, who stood there, doing nothing, a grim smile dancing in his eyes.
The footman, who still held the empty coffeepot in his hands, mumbled a sincere apology. Grimstoke's face reddened as he shouted orders. Sir Gerald gritted his teeth and started for the door. A few snickers followed the man, but within minutes everyone went back to eating and conversing.
Briana glanced over her shoulder as Clayton took Sir Gerald’s seat. "That was despicable," she said under her breath.
"What?" Clayton said. "I learned it from you."
Briana pressed her lips together in angry silence.
Her husband leaned closer. "As to my cousin's latest comment that sealed his fate, I am not about to take advantage of you, if that is what you think."
"You already took advantage of me," she accused, keeping her face to her plate.
"We are drawing stares, dear wife. Meet me in the library, then, if you have fear of me in our chambers. That place seems like a haven to you lately."
Briana sipped her coffee, her insides burning with grief. "I have no fear of you, my lord. I have disgust."
His hands curled by his side. "All the more reason for us to talk this out. I believe Gerald's words may have offended you."
She could no longer look at him, for she knew his cousin's accusations were true. "I will see you in the library, my lord."
"Clayton," he whispered with a hint of domination that irked Briana to no end. "Your husband's name is Clayton."
A sob escaped Briana's throat as she hurried up the stairs and hastened into Agatha's chambers, closing the door behind her.
"Whatever is the matter, child?" Agatha's arms flew out to catch her. Briana fell against her aunt's chest.
"He lied to me, Agatha! Clayton lied to me!"
Agatha patted her back. "Tell me all about it."
Briana sniffed and wiped her eyes. "He married me to gain a castle and money. He doesn't love me at all."
"That's not true. He loves you very much."
"No, he doesn't love me. A man who is in love, real love, would not lie like he did."
"Just slow down, take a few deep breaths, and tell me the entire story. I'm sure he had a reason for what he did."
Briana told her godmother everything about Sir Gerald, the castle, the money, and Clayton's meeting with her in the library in a few minutes.
"It seems he wishes to air his side of the story. As his wife, you have done him a great disservice by not listening to him."
"You are in agreement with him?" she asked, the realization slicing her heart in two.
"I am not siding with anyone. I knew something about that dingy old castle and that miser who owned it. But if you ask me, I do think it childish of you to believe everything Sir Gerald has said. There are two sides to everything, you know. Even with our mission. In fact, I have received notice to leave."
Suddenly Briana became aware of her aunt's carriage dress and packed trunks. "You received notice this morning?"
"Yes. I cannot tell you how. But Whitehall believes the enemy has been in Bath all along. I am to journey there first thing. I will not be directly involved, so you need not worry."
Briana gripped the bedpost. "I am to go with you?"
"No, you are to stay here with your husband. But if you see any suspicious signs, then by all means send word to Whitehall as soon as you possibly can."
Briana turned away. They had been on a wild-goose chase after all. And because of the mission, she was now a married woman. Her bottom lip trembled. What in the world had she done? "I plan to meet him in the library. But I don't want to."
"You must. He is your husband now."
A tear slipped down her cheek. "I love him, but don't you see? He lied to me. I can never forget that."
Agatha gave her a hug. "You'll work it out. Young love is fragile, child. Now, give this old lady a kiss before I leave."
"I will miss you," Briana sobbed.
"I am not leaving England, dear. I will see you often. And do not let that mama of yours into your house for more than a week at a time. Remember, your husband is your first priority. Speak with him and I am sure everything will work out."
Confused and hurt, Briana forced a smile. Clayton was her husband now, but he had married her for reasons he had kept secret, and she would never forget that fact as long as she lived.
Chapter Eighteen
Clayton had the writing box popped open as he examined the secret drawer. He had searched the library as soon as he had left breakfast. He believed Agatha correct. The two ladies had been sent on a pointless assignment while the players in the game were somewhere else. He had seen this type of scenario played out in the war, but blast it all, he didn't like the ladies embroiled in any kind of plot, false or otherwise.
The click of the door turned his head.
"Briana," he said calmly, closing the box.
Her chin lifted in that adorable, defiant manner and he frowned. He had not been truthful and she knew it.
"My lord," she said, taking a seat as far away from him as she could.
"Afraid of me?" The pain in her eyes turned his heart.
"Certainly not."
He sank back against the leather chair behind Grimstoke's desk. "What did that pompous idiot tell you?"
"That you needed a convenient bride."
"You knew I needed to marry."
Her face tightened. "But I didn't know why. I thought it because of your family, your responsibility as the son of a duke."
He stood, walking toward the fireplace and trailing his hand along the bricks. "What does it matter why I married you?"
"Why?" she cried, rising. "How could you ask such a thing?"
He turned quickly, realizing his words were chosen poorly.
"You deceived me," she went on. "You led me to believe you ... you loved me! My sister trusted a man, and nothing became of it but heartache. And it seems I am to follow in her footsteps."
His expression hardened. "Pray, explain yourself."
"It means I cannot trust you," she said deliberately. "I can never trust you with my heart or anything else. You wanted money and a castle more than you ever wanted me. How can I live with that? With you?"
A long, brittle silence fell between them, and Briana felt as if a thick sheet of ice had settled over the room. The slap of his hand against the fireplace made her jump. His face was cold and unyielding as he returned her gaze. Two sapphire eyes impaled her with such fury, she knew she had pushed him too hard. He was not going to back down, but neither was she.
"Then perhaps you should live without me, madam. If you think me as loose as one of these blasted bricks, we can part and go our separate ways as I suggested the first time I proposed marriage."
"Perhaps we should," she snapped, letting her anger get the best of her. "This mission is done with anyway. Agatha received a letter telling her so."
His eyes flashed with recognition, and for a fleeting second she thought he was going to drag her into his arms and kiss her. But she was wrong. His pride had been hurt along with hers.
"Well, wife, all has been said, has it not? You obviously do not wish to be by your husband's side." A muscle ticked in his jaw as he skirted the desk and strode toward the door.
"Good day to you, madam. I shall take my leave of you within the hour. Rest assured that many of the guests will be departing today as well. It seems there is a better party in Brighton. But never fear, my departure will be seen as nothing more than a journey of business."
He was within a foot of the door when he turned. "As to your future, you may contact me through my solicitor and draw upon my account at the bank. You may live with your godmother, if you wish. I will send the money to her address."
"I don't want your money," Briana cried, hurt that he would not fight for their love. "I don't want anything of yours. I never want to see you again."
His eyes flicked to her stomach. "If you find yourself with child, madam, not seeing me will indeed be a wish I cannot allow. Good day."
As soon as the door snapped closed, Briana let her tears spill down her cheeks. Oh, Clayton.
With a heartfelt sob, she dropped her head to the arm of the sofa and squeezed her eyes shut. Why did it have to end this way?
Despair welled up inside her as her sobs turned to small hiccups of pain. She didn't know how long she sat there crying before she finally heaved a deep sigh, trying to compose herself. With her swollen eyes and red nose, she didn't want to run into anyone she knew. So she closed her eyes and tried to figure out what to do. The minutes stretched into hours as she fell fast asleep.
When she awoke, it was half past noon. Two hours after her husband had left her. He was probably gone and Agatha, too.
She looked about the room, wondering what she should do now. She was a married woman, for goodness' sake. That meant she was tied to one man, but it also meant she could venture places that a single woman was not allowed. She could travel to France, to America, to the East Indies—anywhere she wanted to go.
Assailed by a bitter sense of loneliness, she rose and wandered across the room, eyeing the writing box. How could things fall apart so swiftly? She wrapped her arms around herself and let out a shudder as she turned toward the fireplace.
The memory of Clayton slamming his hand into bricks brought tears to her eyes. She would never stop loving him. It just wasn't possible.
She sniffed and trailed her finger along the exact place his hand had touched. Had she been too harsh with him? Was it pain she had seen in his eyes when he turned to leave? Was she the one who had been too stubborn?
"Oh, Clayton," she murmured, her chest squeezing with regret. "Why couldn't it be better between us?"
She leaned her head against the mantel, trapped in her own selfishness. She hated to admit how much she needed him. How much she loved him. A crumble of mortar fell from a brick and she pushed what she could back into place. She wished she could do the same with her marriage. Make everything right again. Fill the holes and replace the emptiness in her heart.
She paused suddenly, staring at her hands. Could it be? The fireplace was old and probably needed to be redone. Many of the bricks were chipped, so it hadn't occurred to her before, but...
She tugged at the loose brick. Every fiber in her being tensed. A chunk of mortar fell to the floor and the brick loosened away. Good grief!
Her heart hammered with anticipation as she snaked her hand into the hole. When her fingers touched paper, she almost wept for joy. The secret missive! She clasped the document and yanked her hand from the hole.
"Always the little bluestocking, eh?"
Briana spun around and froze as Kingsdale clicked the door closed and turned the key.
"Searching for information wherever you can find it, my dear." A wicked grin crossed his face as he slowly came into the room. He stretched out his hand. "I believe that is for me.
Her senses reeled as the situation finally sank in. "Y-you?"
He wrenched the paper from her hands, threw her into the chair, and sighed in exasperation. "You could have been mine, Briana. But you married the son of a duke instead. And now"— he picked up the brick and returned it to the fireplace—"you have stumbled onto a plot that may affect all of England." He frowned at her and shook his head. "I did try to warn you."
"I doubt that," she said, angry at herself for not seeing through this man.
"Really?" he said mockingly. "I told you about my brother, did I not? He died in the war."
"I fail to see why you would want to commit treason."
"Treason." His laugh was cold and lifeless. "It is retribution, my dear. Prinny killed my brother. He placed my only sibling in a regiment that was wiped out in its first battle."
"That wasn't the Regent's fault."
"My brother was all I had left of my family."
Briana was slowly beginning to see how his warped mind worked. Perhaps if she played on his emotions. "You loved your brother, then?"
Kingsdale sneered. "Loved him? I raised the pup from when he was a babe. My father didn't care, and any governesses were too wrapped up in my father. I literally begged our fat prince not to send Charles. I asked that he be given a desk job."
"And the Regent refused?" A note of false sympathy trailed on the end of her question.
Kingsdale seemed to soften. "Refused? The man laughed at me. He had promised my brother, and there was nothing for it. He dismissed me as if I were a flea in his ale. Me? Can you believe it?"
Briana looked around cautiously.
"Don't even try it, my dear."
She stole a look at Kingsdale's face and regretted it instantly.
"You know," he said, "I can see the resemblance now."
"What resemblance?"
"With your sister."
Her insides chilled. "What do you know of Clarice?"
"My dear woman, I was the father of her child."
Briana felt the room tilt. "W-why?"
"Because you hurt me, Briana."
"I hurt you?"
"You wouldn't marry me. I had plans to go to Egypt. But you threw them in my face."
His confession made her speechless. If she had but known what kind of man he was, she would have warned her sister.
"I have found a group that wants the Regent dead." His laugh alone betrayed his madness. "It worked so perfectly, you see. His own people hate him. Most of them are fed up with his spending and lazy attitude."
"You won't get away with this."
He shook the paper in his hand. "Grimstoke will be paid for his information. And yes, I will get away."
"Lord Grimstoke?"
"Yes, didn't you know the poor man lost at the tables? And whom do you suppose he lost to?"
Briana didn't need to answer. She knew already. Agatha had mentioned that Grimstoke had lost a good sum to the Prince Regent. It seemed revenge was a good motivator after all. But Clarice? Why would he hurt such an innocent child?
"That's right. Our dear Prinny. Fat, selfish slob that he is took almost everything Grimstoke had. Of course, our dear, devoted host thinks we're just kidnapping the old boy, scare him a bit, give him his just desserts."
"But you intend to kill the Regent?"
He put one hand on the desk, leaning toward her. "My, you have always been a clever little thing."
"What's in the papers?" she asked, meeting his glare with one of her own.
He cupped her chin in a tight hold. "Prinny's route and scheduled times when he will arrive in Bath later this month. It's a perfect ploy for a highwayman, don't you think?"
Briana was thinking furiously. She had to escape. The man was mad. Her eyes scanned the room. The window. That was her only way out. "How do you know the information you have is true?"
"True?" he smiled. "Grimstoke is still considered a loyal friend to Prinny. He knows the Regent's schedule as much as a clock knows the time." He flicked a caressing finger against her cheek. "That's how these games are played, my dear. It's always a friend. And we have found many friends in high places."
He gazed pointedly at the loose brick. "Our dear, pompous host has no idea who I am. He only wants his money returned to him with a bit of revenge against the Regent. The dropping point was to be here. The man ain't
so prim and proper as one would think, is he? Greed will always have its price."
He leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear. "We have sold information to countries around the world, setting Whitehall on its ear. Although you, my dear, impress me. I knew Miss Appleby was involved in clandestine activities, but I had no idea about you. Of course, you must know the old woman is chasing another bad lead, is she not?"
The thought that the man might harm Agatha made Briana's stomach clench. "You'll never get away with it."
Her words seemed to amuse him. "I think you said that before. What? You intend to stop me? I really don't think so, my dear. I saw your husband leaving here two hours ago. A lovers' spat, eh?"
Briana wished with all her heart that she had never let Clayton leave in anger. "What do you intend to do with me?"
Kingsdale's gaze lingered on her face and he seemed to hesitate. "What I have done to every obstacle in my path, especially to anyone who dares to interfere in my plans. Be it royalty or women, I will not waver. But," he said regretfully, "this will be the first time I have loved the person ..."
Briana swallowed nervously, trying to determine how fast she could make it to the window and throw it open.
"It's really a horrid shame, but alas ..."
"You wouldn't dare!"
He rolled back on his heels. "You think your sister drowned accidentally in the Thames, do you?"
Briana felt the color leave her cheeks.
"That's right, my dear. I killed her."
Briana stiffened under his glare. Clarice, oh, Clarice, what agony you must have suffered. "So, my innocent sister was an obstacle?" she asked hotly.
"Indeed, my dear." With a regretful sigh, he cast a glance over her person. "It is a pity you are even a bigger obstacle, are you not?"
Clayton stared at Agatha. Agatha stared at Clayton. They were standing alone in the yard outside the posting inn on their way to Bath. "What are you doing here?" they said in unison.
"I thought you would be returning to London," Agatha snapped impatiently.
Clayton raised a brow. The lady looked a bit pale. "Why the deuce would I be doing that?"
The Convenient Bride (The Clearbrooks) Page 21