Brynn watched him walk away, torn between disbelief on the one hand, dismay on the other.
His supreme confidence vexed her. It vexed her more that she was so susceptible to his practiced touch. Wycliff was a rake, a man notorious for bending women to his whim. A devil whose sensuality was so potent it was almost a visible force.
She should be able to resist such blatant manipulation. Yet that hadn’t stopped the warmth that suffused her body the moment his lips touched her skin, or quelled the longing that had risen in her at the seductive look in his compelling blue eyes. He thought he could vanquish her with the rapier-sharp edge of his rakish charm. Oh, he was arrogant and infuriating…
And yet he could afford to be confident of victory. He held the upper hand and he knew it. If he truly meant to fund Theo’s schooling…
With a murmur of distress, Brynn sat down on the bench and pressed her hands to her flushed cheeks. She was still in shock over his proposal.
She didn’t plan to marry. It simply wasn’t worth the risk. She had always known she was different, that her future was not her own. For as long as she could remember, she’d been warned of the danger of falling in love. Not danger to herself but to the man she cared for.
The women of your house will be forever cursed for their beauty. Any man they love will die.
She hadn’t wanted to believe in the curse, but there were simply too many macabre incidents over too many generations to doubt its validity.
Her mother had suffered its terrible power. Gwendolyn Caldwell had lost her first betrothed to a bizarre accident-a bolt of lightning on a nearly cloudless day. Vowing never to love again, she subsequently married Brynn’s father, bore him six children, and died in childbirth, leaving her twelve-year-old daughter to raise the baby.
Brynn had clearly inherited her ancestor’s flame-haired beauty and, apparently, the same legendary allure. But after her mother died, she had disregarded the warnings and developed a girlish infatuation for the first young gentleman to seriously court her. When he’d drowned at sea, she had finally learned to accept her fate.
Afterward she’d gone to great lengths to avoid attracting men. Taming her vivid tresses. Dressing modestly-even primly. Hiding her dangerous allure. Remaining at home, out of the public eye, living an almost reclusive existence. Embracing being shunned. She’d encouraged belief in the curse and her reputation as a danger because it kept potential suitors at bay.
She didn’t want suitors. Didn’t want gentlemen she scarcely knew losing their heads over her, declaring their undying affection. She could never reciprocate their feelings. She didn’t dare accept their suit, for fear of what might happen. It was better not to risk the tragic consequences.
If there were times when she regretted her bleak future, when she felt achingly lonely at facing the prospect of a loveless existence, well then, she had only to recall her own tragedy to be reminded of the stakes. She could never fall in love. Never.
In any event, she was quite happy with her life, Brynn told herself frequently. She had no time for loneliness, no room for such vulnerability. No patience for suffering the dazed, spellbound beaus who pursued her. All her efforts were directed toward tutoring her youngest brother and helping her oldest brother save their family from dire penury-by smuggling and marketing contraband.
Brynn took a deep breath. Fortunately she had stopped herself from divulging her involvement in the Free Trade to Wycliff. She couldn’t expose their illicit activities to an outsider who might not understand, a powerful noble who could make trouble for them.
The immediate trouble now, however, was how to deal with her latest unwanted suitor.
Brynn shivered, remembering the heated look in the earl’s eyes. He claimed to want her for his wife. And underneath that irresistible, sophisticated charm, she sensed a determination that was deadly serious-and possibly deadly as well.
Just this morning she had dreamed of Wycliff, of his death. Even if she wanted to accept his proposal of marriage, she couldn’t simply ignore her dark premonition, could she?
Chapter Four
Brynn couldn’t simply ignore Lord Wycliff’s proposal either, for Gray questioned her about it that evening after dinner. Theo, as usual, had escaped to his dungeon directly following the sweets, leaving his older brother and sister alone in the smaller dining room close to the kitchen, where they took their meals these days to save work for their few servants.
Brynn could see Gray eyeing her speculatively, as if preparing his thoughts for a discussion beyond the polite small talk that had pervaded dinner. Fearing the subject matter, she sipped her wine and waited. Silence reigned.
Meals were much quieter now without their three other brothers at home. Arthur and Stephen, two years and three younger than Brynn respectively, had joined the Royal Navy shortly before their father perished and their finances plunged so drastically. And last year eighteen-year-old Reese had set out to make his fortune in the merchant marine.
Thus far, of all the brothers, Reese had suffered the most from their father’s disastrous investments. There had been no money for him to purchase a naval commission or even attend university, as the older boys had done. Not that that dismayed Reese, however, since he was the least studious of all the brothers. But Theo would be devastated to be denied the opportunity-
“Brynn?”
She gave a start at having her distracted thoughts interrupted.
Gray smiled faintly. “It is not like you to be woolgathering so deeply that you fail even to hear me.”
“I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“I asked you twice what answer you gave Wycliff.”
She winced as Gray finally introduced the subject she dreaded. “I refused him, of course.”
“Did you even give his proposal consideration? Wycliff is one of the most eligible bachelors in England.”
“Perhaps so, but I have no interest in marrying him.”
“Why not?”
“There are a dozen reasons.”
Grayson’s jaw tightened, but for a moment he merely regarded her silently over his wineglass. When at last he spoke, his voice held an unusual edge of bitterness. “You might think of your family before you blithely throw away this opportunity to deliver us from debt.”
The unfairness of the accusation made Brynn catch her breath. She opened her mouth to respond, but Gray began a strange tirade, all the more forceful for its quiet delivery.
“I for one am tired of scraping for a living, Brynn. This house is falling down around our ears because we cannot afford repairs. I can barely manage to keep up the fishing ketch and pay the crew, which is our sole livelihood. We owe enormous sums. The moneylender is pressing for repayment of his loans, issuing veiled threats… I could be tossed into debtors’ prison at any moment.”
Brynn bit her tongue. There was no point in reminding Gray that she was doing her best to help him repay their loans. She understood his desperation. The humiliation of being so deeply in hock, of having to sell precious family heirlooms and dismiss beloved employees. The guilt of being unable to provide for his family. The gnawing worry, wondering how to ensure their survival from day to day.
And Gray had made his share of sacrifices. Most hurtfully, he’d had to abandon his own marital aspirations and watch the young lady he admired wed another gentleman.
“I have turned down other proposals,” Brynn said when he was through, “and you never objected before.”
“None were as advantageous as this. You will not find a better catch than Wycliff.”
“You make it sound as if he were a fish.”
Grayson only scowled at her lame attempt at humor.
“You know very well,” Brynn pointed out, “that I cannot leave Theo. At least not until his future is secure.”
“His future would be thoroughly secure if you married Wycliff. He has offered to fund Theo’s schooling. We could hire the best possible tutors or send him to school- Faith, Wycliff is wealthy enough to bu
y an entire school, for that matter. And you would no longer have to play at being a governess.”
That stung, considering the effort she had put into teaching her youngest brother. Brynn drew a steadying breath, willing herself to patience. “I’m not certain Theo is ready to attend school. Boys there can be so cruel.”
“Perhaps, but it could be the making of him. He is far too studious as it is. And you cannot keep him sheltered his entire life, the way you’ve done thus far.”
Brynn looked down at her glass. They had frequently argued about her overprotectiveness. She was as watchful of Theo as any mother could be, since she had raised him from his first breath.
“It is easy for you to advocate my wedding Wycliff,” Brynn said quietly. “You are not the one who would have to become his wife.”
Gray surveyed her with all seriousness. “He seems like an amiable enough sort. And I doubt you find his appeal objectionable, considering how the ladies swoon over him.”
“His appeal is a large part of the problem, Gray. I… I dreamed about him last night. I saw him dying.”
Her brother stared at her. “Perhaps it is only a coincidence.”
“You know very well it is not. I don’t want the responsibility of causing his death. I couldn’t bear the guilt.”
“Merely because you wed him doesn’t mean you would cause his death. You would simply have to discipline yourself not to develop any affection for him.”
That might be easier said than done, Brynn thought darkly. The attraction she felt for Wycliff already was nigh irresistible. “I am not willing to take the risk.”
“He seems willing enough.”
“I know. He scoffed when I warned him what could happen.” She made a sound of frustration. “Why can’t he simply believe me? If not for the curse, he would not even be pursuing me. Certainly he would never have proposed marriage. He knows nothing about me, nothing about our illicit activities. I doubt he would want a Free Trader for his countess if he knew the truth. But I didn’t think it wise to reveal my involvement.”
“No, that would have indeed been unwise,” Gray agreed, frowning. “I learned only today that Wycliff works for the Foreign Office.”
“What do you mean, works?”
“He is employed by the British government.”
Her eyebrows rose in surprise. “Why would a nobleman with his reputed fortune need employment?”
“I hardly think he needs it,” Grayson retorted. “And I have no idea why. For the challenge of it, I presume. Whatever the reason, he is quite powerful in government circles. He’s not someone I would like to thwart.”
“Well, his sense of power is another thing I find maddening. He very much enjoys throwing his weight around. I’ve rarely met a man so arrogant. He thinks he can simply command me to wed him and I will eagerly obey.”
Gray eyed her with a hint of sympathy. “I can understand that your pride would be offended. Mine is as well. But you cannot forget how dire our situation is.”
Chagrined by his gentle tone, Brynn bit her lip. Pride had always been one of her chief faults, and it was humiliating to have to swallow it. She hated being so powerless, so dependent on someone else’s whims. “I have not forgotten our situation. But I resent his lordship’s presumption that his wealth can buy my submission. He thinks he simply can purchase me to bear his children. I am not for sale.”
“He wants sons, Brynn. What man does not?”
She remained stubbornly silent.
“Are you saying that you don’t want children of your own?”
She earnestly wanted children of her own, but she had resigned herself to a barren life, telling herself she would be content devoting herself to raising Theo. “No, I am not saying that. But I certainly don’t want them to be sired by Wycliff. Just think how I would feel if I murdered my own children’s father.”
“I expect you could manage to avoid murder,” Gray said dryly.
“This is hardly a joking matter, Grayson!”
“Of course it isn’t. I’m sorry.” When she remained silent, he spoke again. “Did you consider that once we are free of debt, I will no longer have to engage in smuggling? Nor would Theo.”
That made Brynn sit up. “You would stop taking him out with you? ”
“Yes, of course. You know very well I pressed him into service only because I needed help managing my crews with all our brothers gone. And it is better to learn the trade at a young age. But I cannot give up our one source of income until I settle our debts.” Gray held her gaze steadily. “I thought that keeping Theo from the Free Trade was your most earnest desire.”
“Of course it is. I don’t want him to have anything to do with smuggling, or the sea. He isn’t cut out for such physical danger. He becomes ill every time you take him out-”
Gray cut short her familiar diatribe. “Then you should be grateful to Wycliff for the chance to spare Theo the danger.”
Perhaps she should indeed be grateful, Brynn acknowledged. “You truly think I should marry Wycliff?”
“Yes. For Theo’s sake if nothing else.”
Brynn felt despair well up inside her as she realized the truth of her brother’s quiet pronouncement. “Very well, I will consider it.”
She pushed back her chair and rose abruptly to her feet, needing to be alone. Without another word, she left the room.
When she reached her bedchamber, she shut the door and went to one of the windows that overlooked the coast. A sense of desperation tightened her chest as she stared out beyond the rocky shoreline to the sea.
Was Gray right? Should she wed Lord Wycliff? Did she dare take the risk?
Unable to remain still, Brynn turned to pace the floor. Wycliff was clearly anything but a gentleman when it came to winning what he wanted, dangling a generous marriage settlement in front of her to compel her acceptance. But he was the last man on earth she should ever marry.
If she were to take a husband, she should choose someone the absolute opposite of him. A quiet mouse of a man for whom she felt no attraction, not someone who stirred her blood with merely a glance. There would be no danger of falling in love then…
Her jaw clenching, Brynn went to her dressing table and brought out her jewel case, which held only a few inexpensive trinkets and one extremely valuable piece. Withdrawing the locket that had been passed down to her from her ancestor, she opened the clasp to reveal a miniature portrait of Lady Eleanor Stanhope-Flaming Nell-the legendary temptress who centuries before had driven men mad with her alluring features and fiery hair and who had been cursed for her profligate sins.
Not for the first time did Brynn wish her ravishing relative could have tempered her wanton behavior and avoided causing her female descendants such grief. But there was no escaping the curse. Wycliff, despite his skepticism, had become so entangled in it, he was disregarding her every objection, all her warnings, in his determination to coerce her into marriage.
Brynn’s fist closed tightly over the locket, pressing the gold filigree painfully into her palm. She desperately wished there were someone she could talk to, someone other than Grayson, who had a vital interest in her compliance.
Her mother would have been adamant about her refusing Wycliff’s suit, Brynn knew. But what would Esmerelda advise?
The elderly Gypsy woman was a descendant of the curse’s original creator. For the past century her small band had been allowed to camp on the Caldwell estate when they visited the district, in hopes of making amends for Flaming Nell’s offense.
When Brynn’s first suitor died, she’d gone to Esmerelda to interpret her dark dreams. The Gypsy’s cryptic insights had proved both confusing and contradictory, but Brynn had come away with the firm conviction that she was to blame for her suitor’s death.
She couldn’t consult the old woman this time, however, for she had no idea where to find her. Her band roamed the south of England from Cornwall all the way to London.
Closing the locket, Brynn returned the piece to the je
wel case. Perhaps she was mistaken. Perhaps her troubling dream of Wycliff didn’t mean he would actually die, but was merely a warning that she had to take care. If so…
She didn’t want to agree to his marriage proposal, yet did she really have a choice? If she wed Wycliff, she could free Grayson of the threat of debtors’ prison. Moreover, Theo would have the education he’d always wanted, the future she’d always hoped for him. If not, he would remain under her inadequate tutelage at home, where his life would be at risk. He would be sucked into the dangerous underworld of smuggling.
Torn by her conscience, Brynn squeezed her eyes shut. For her beloved brother’s sake, she would have to concede. She would have to become Wycliff’s countess, bear him a son. Sweet heaven.
Opening her eyes, she lifted her chin with grim determination. Very well, she would wed him. She would give Lord Wycliff the heir he wanted in exchange for a marriage settlement that would put paid to her family’s debts.
Yet caution was imperative. She would have the responsibility for saving Wycliff from his lust, and from her own. Most critically, she would have to prevent any affection whatsoever from forming between them.
She could manage that, Brynn fervently hoped, drawing a deep breath. She only prayed he wouldn’t come to regret entering into such a dangerous union.
Chapter Five
Brynn formally received Lord Wycliff in the drawing room the following afternoon. If she thought to postpone the issue of his marriage proposal, however, she was doomed to disappointment, for he came straight to the point.
“May I hope you have reconsidered my offer?”
“Yes,” she replied stiffly. “You know very well that for my family’s sake, I cannot afford to refuse.”
“Then you consent to become my wife?”
“Yes.”
“I am honored,” Wycliff said pleasantly, as if he had never doubted her answer.
Brynn felt her frustration return at his certitude. She took a steadying breath, knowing she had to attempt once more to persuade him of the danger he faced in wedding her. “Truthfully, I don’t wish to honor you, my lord. I would prefer to make you see reason. You would be much wiser to withdraw your suit before it is too late.”
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