Undressed (Undone by Love)

by Kristina Cook

  “It seems that Sinclair wanted her badly enough to lie to Lord Danville. He told him he had already secured Brenna’s acceptance. I can only suppose Sinclair wants her money.”

  “Her money? Surely her dowry isn’t that large.” Colin picked up an intricate piece of blown glass from the table between the chairs, turning it over in his hands to check the maker’s mark. He wondered just where he had acquired such a piece as this, and then he wondered how much blunt it might fetch.

  “Apparently her dowry is more than generous. Together with her estate in Scotland and the inheritance she has from the Maclachlans, she is a very wealthy woman, indeed.”

  “I had no idea. She’s a sitting duck for fortune hunters, then.”

  “I suppose that, given her age and upbringing, the Danvilles feared being unable to secure any match at all. A short-sighted and baseless fear, of course. And no doubt that wretched Hugh Ballard spoke up for Sinclair, shielding his parents from the truth about the man’s character. All they know of Sinclair is that he is well-connected, the son of a duke. I’m sure they see this as an accomplishment.”

  “Only a fool could remain blind to Sinclair’s true character. He uses women for sport.”

  “Perhaps,” Jane said softly. “But unless Brenna can find a way out of the agreement, I’m afraid she will be the next woman used.”

  “Damn it to hell.” Colin stood on unsteady legs. He needed a drink. He began to pace, his hands in fists by his sides. “You should go, Jane.”

  “Why? So you can drink yourself sick, Colin? I beg of you, don’t do it.”

  “I have no idea what you mean.” He was seething with rage, near blinded with agony over the thought of Brenna’s inevitable mistreatment at Sinclair’s hands. Just a finger of brandy, no more. Just a taste, to soothe his stomach.

  Jane stood and grasped his arm, turning him to face her. “You know exactly what I mean, Colin Rosemoor. Don’t do it. You don’t need to lose yourself in the drink. Help me instead. Help me find a way for Brenna to escape this awful fate.”

  “How?” he bellowed, knocking over the table holding the piece of blown glass, which fell to the floor and shattered into a million tiny bits. “How do you expect me to do that? Should I kidnap her? Is that what you think I should do? Spirit her off to Gretna Green? I doubt she wants to marry me any more than she wants to marry Sinclair. I’m not received anywhere respectable, I haven’t a bloody farthing to my name, and I’m to be tossed to the street with nowhere to live by next week. Is that what you want for your friend? Do you think that preferable to marrying Sinclair?”

  A small gasp parted Jane’s lips. “Is it really as bad as that, Colin?”

  “Yes, by God, it really is that bad. Have you any idea what it’s like to have women you’ve known all your life give you the cut direct? To have men you went to school with cross the street in order to avoid you? Struck from each and every respectable invitation list? Do you think marrying Brenna would help my situation in any way?”

  “I don’t—”

  “No,” he cut in. “The only chance I have, save exposing those who set me up, is marrying a woman in the ton’s good graces, someone they wouldn’t dare snub. Not someone like Brenna, an outcast like myself. Any alliance between us simply hurts us both, don’t you see?”

  “I...I suppose you are right. I hadn’t thought of it that way. I only wanted to save her the heartache of marrying an animal like Sinclair.”

  Colin ran a hand through his hair, silently cursing the way his fingers shook. “I realize you only mean to help her, Jane. You are a kind and unselfish woman. Yet your matchmaking efforts are misguided in this case. If you want to help Brenna, you should advise her to make haste for Scotland and hope he doesn’t come after her.”

  “I’m ashamed to admit I suggested that she should find herself in a compromising position with someone more appealing than Sinclair. Of course, she would not even consider it. She still hopes to convince Lord Danville to break off the agreement. He might do it, I suppose. I wonder if Papa would speak with him? Or Lord Mandeville? Do you think it might help?”

  “He might listen to Mandeville, but I doubt it. Danville is a staunch Tory, and he strongly opposes many of Mandeville’s reform efforts. Probably a wasted effort.”

  “I’m sure you’re right.”

  The clock chimed the hour, and Jane looked up in surprise. “Oh, no. The time. I must be going, as I promised Mama I would return within the hour. She’ll be on pins and needles, waiting to hear what has become of you. But truly, Colin, perhaps I should send for the apothecary. Or, better yet, you should go straightaway to Rosemoor House and let Mama tend you. Cook makes a wonderful tonic—”

  “I don’t need Cook’s tonic, nor do I need Mother’s coddling. Will you rest easy if I vow to you that I will not drink myself into a stupor after you take your leave? In fact, I won’t drink anything stronger than coffee. Like a good Quaker.”

  “Oh, Colin. I do worry about you.”

  He reached down to pat her head, trying not to muss her carefully arranged hair. “Don’t worry yourself on my account, sister dearest. Really, I’m not worth it.”

  “Don’t patronize me, Colin Rosemoor.” She smiled even as she chastised him.

  “Really, you offend me.” He thumped his heart with a fist. “I wouldn’t dare patronize you.”

  “Hmm, yes. I suppose I have no choice but to trust your vow. Will you come to supper tonight? Susanna and Richard will be there.”

  “No, not tonight.” He couldn’t, not just yet, despite the disappointment in Jane’s face. Especially not if his youngest sister and her husband would be there. He loved Susanna, but her silly chatter wore on his nerves. “Tomorrow. I promise you.”

  “Susanna will be disappointed.”

  “I doubt that.” He followed Jane to the foyer where she retrieved her bonnet. “Unlike Lucy, she has little time for me now that she’s wed. Besides, I think Richard now fears my company, lest his own reputation should suffer by association.”

  “If Richard Merrill had any backbone whatsoever—”

  “Then he probably wouldn’t have done us all a favor and married Susanna. Remember that.”

  “Excellent point.” She tied the green ribbons under her chin, then pulled on her gloves. “Tomorrow, then. I’ll tell Mama to expect you for dinner.”

  “Very well.”

  “Until then, I expect you to keep your word. Nothing stronger than coffee.”

  “You have my word,” he said with an exaggerated bow.

  He just hoped to God he could keep it.

  Chapter 14

  “I’m afraid Miss Rosemoor is not home at present. Would you care to leave your card?” The Rosemoors’ butler held out a gloved hand, but Brenna shook her head.

  “Nay, that won’t be necessary. ‘Tis imperative I locate her straightaway. Have ye any idea where she might have gone to?”

  The butler regarded her with narrowed eyes. “Is something amiss? Miss Rosemoor’s not in danger, I hope.”

  “Nay, nothing like that. I simply must speak to her, that’s all.”

  He raised one bushy brow in reply but said nothing.

  Blast it, she must think of some excuse. But what? Her mind cast about frantically for something, anything, to placate the man. “Ye see, I must...that is, I’ve a ball to attend tonight,” she dissembled. “A verra important ball, and...and I’m not certain which gown to wear. ‘Tis imperative I wear just the right sort of thing because...” Because why? What possible reason could she name? She wrung her hands, wishing desperately for inspiration. And then it struck. She took a deep breath and hurriedly continued. “Because Prinny himself shall be there, and—”

  “Stop.” The butler held up one hand. “That’s quite enough, miss. I believe Miss Rosemoor said she was off to Mr. Rosemoor’s lodgings.”

  Perfect. “Verra well, I’ll be on my way, then. Thank ye ever so much.” The only problem was she had no idea where Colin’s lodgings were.

/>   “Good day,” the butler said in dismissal, reaching to close the door.

  “Wait,” Brenna called out, bracing one hand against the heavy wooden panel. “I don’t mean to be a bother, but can ye tell me where I might find Mr. Rosemoor’s lodgings?”

  With a disapproving scowl, he named an unfamiliar direction.

  Brenna repeated the direction aloud, wondering how she would locate it. She shook her head, defeated. ‘Twas useless. If only she had found Jane at home, they could have traveled there together. Or had she taken the Danvilles’ carriage, the driver could no doubt locate it. But sending round for the carriage would have alerted Hugh to her presence, and she couldn’t have taken such a risk. Instead, she had come alone, on foot, and without a chaperone.

  Nay, she had no choice but to leave word for Jane to seek her out immediately at Danville House, and then return there to await her. If she was lucky, Lord Thomas would have tired of waiting for her and departed by now. Off to his mistress’s house, perhaps—where his passel of illegitimate children resided.

  She looked up and noticed the butler still standing there, staring at her quizzically.

  “Have you a conveyance to see you there safely, miss?”

  “Nay, I...I came in haste. On foot, I’m afraid.”

  “Perhaps I can see if we’ve something to spare. I would not want to be responsible for your wearing the wrong sort of gown in Prinny’s presence, after all. If you’ll excuse me one moment.”

  Less than a quarter hour later, Brenna found herself seated in a light barouche, being driven toward Bloomsbury at a brisk clip. Thank goodness Jane had chosen this same afternoon to call upon her brother. ‘Twas perfectly respectable to remain in his company while Jane was there. Forbidden by her family, aye. But respectable. At least she hoped it was. She would quickly tell him what she’d overheard and be on her way again, and no one would be the wiser.

  Her pulse began to race when the carriage slowed, stopping before a small, rather unremarkable gray stone town house. Not what one would call fashionable.

  “Shall I wait for you, miss?” the driver asked as he handed her down to the walk below.

  “Nay, ‘tis not necessary.” She would accompany Jane home.

  The man tipped his hat in reply and clambered back to the driver’s seat. In an instant, he headed the carriage back in the direction from which he’d come.

  Without glancing back, Brenna hurried up the steps and reached for the brass knocker. The door swung open at once, and she found herself facing yet another stone-faced butler, this one slightly more aged and stooped than the last.

  “Forget something, Lucy?” a familiar voice called out, and Brenna started in surprise as a disheveled Colin appeared beside the butler, a blue reticule dangling from one long, aristocratic finger.

  Brenna gasped, taking a step backward. Her slipper caught on the landing’s edge, and her ankle twisted painfully. Instantly, Colin’s arms were around her.

  “Devil take it, are you hurt?”

  “Nay, I’ve only twisted my ankle. Och!” she cried out, trying to put weight on the affected limb.

  “You are hurt.” He lifted her off her feet and swept her into the entry hall, his arms warm and strong around her. “What in God’s name are you doing here? I thought you were Luc—Lady Mandeville.”

  “’Twas obvious,” she said through gritted teeth, squirming in his grasp. Blast it, but her ankle hurt.

  “Here, you must lie down.” He carried her into the front parlor and deposited her on a long sofa covered in moss-green velvet, worn in several spots. “You should remove that slipper at once.”

  “Nay, I’m quite all right.” She looked up at him, and her eyes widened with astonishment. Her pulse leapt, her blood a deafening roar in her ears.

  Dear Lord, but he was only half clothed. His feet were bare, his linen shirt unbuttoned at the neck, and he wore no stock or waistcoat. Her eyes were involuntarily drawn to the smooth planes of his muscled chest, exposed by the open neck of his shirt. Swallowing a lump in her throat, she averted her gaze.

  He’d thought she was Lady Mandeville. “Forget something?” he’d asked, holding up a ladies’ reticule. ‘Twas obvious Lady Mandeville had been here, and he’d entertained her in this state of undress. Or, she conjectured, perhaps this was all he’d bothered to put on following their illicit entertainment.

  And where the devil was Jane? “I...I thought I’d find Jane here,” she stammered, unable to look him in the eye. “The Rosemoors’ butler said she’d come to pay ye a call.”

  “She was here. She left just minutes before you arrived.” He knelt on one knee beside the sofa and reached for her ankle, probing it with gentle fingers. “Does this hurt?” he asked, his brows knitted.

  She bit her lip and nodded. “Aye. Not terribly, though. I should go at once.” She struggled to rise, but Colin stood and reached for her shoulders, pressing her back to the sofa.

  “First you’ll tell me what brings you here, all alone, unchaperoned. Someone might have seen you come in, you know.”

  “Well, then, ye should have left me there on the walk,” she snapped.

  “In this state?”

  She ignored the question. “I believed Jane to be here, else I would not have come. I’m not daft, ye know.”

  “A fact I’m very much aware of. You still haven’t answered my question. Here, raise the ankle on this pillow.”

  Bending over her, he removed her slipper and placed a tasseled silk pillow beneath her foot. He ran his thumbs along the arch, where a small amount of swelling was quickly becoming visible. The touch sent a shudder up the length of her body. She must tell him her news, and then leave at once. Remaining here alone with him was far too dangerous.

  “I had to see ye straightaway. I’ve just overheard a private conversation between my brother and Lord Thomas.” Her stomach roiled at the memory of their vile words. “Ye were correct all along, Colin. I canna believe Hugh would do such a thing, yet ‘tis true. They plotted your ruin. Lord Thomas arranged to have that card planted in your pocket that night at White’s, at Hugh’s urging. ‘Twas all their doing.”

  Colin moved to the fireplace, one hand braced on the mantle. His chin dropped toward his chest. “I knew it, the bloody bastards.”

  “It would seem ye were correct that Hugh coveted the hand of the woman ye had hoped to wed. Honoria.”

  “I assumed as much.” He raised his head, staring blankly at the wall above the mantel. “But what did Sinclair get from the bargain, besides the pleasure of seeing me ruined? Money? I hadn’t thought him in need of funds.”

  Brenna struggled to swallow, her throat feeling suddenly parched. “Me,” she answered, her voice breaking. “’Twould seem I was his prize. Hugh Ballard cares naught for me, his twin. I was simply something to barter. If he thinks I’ll let Lord Thomas get his filthy hands on Glenbroch, he’s gravely mistaken. ‘Tis my land, my estate. My da worked long and hard to make it prosper, as have I. I would kill Lord Thomas with my own hands before I’d let him clear it.”

  Dropping his hand from the mantel, Colin whirled around to stare at her. A moment passed before he spoke. “Let us hope it will not come to that.”

  “I believed Lord Danville to be an honest and caring man, the best of the lot. I will speak with him further on the matter. I canna imagine that he will force me to wed against my will, once he understands how completely opposed I am to the match. But what of ye? How will ye use this knowledge?”

  He shook his head. “I’m not sure. Would you be willing to sign a statement, attesting to what you heard?”

  “Aye. Why not? I owe my brother nothing.”

  “You realize it will cause a stir, a scandal? That they will deny the truth and call you a liar?”

  “I dinna have a care about that. Let them call me what they wish,” she said with a shrug. “’Tis not as if I have any friends here in London save Jane. My only fear is that I’m an outsider—what we call a Sassenach. They think me benea
th them, the ladies and gentlemen of the ton. Who will believe me?”

  “Perhaps no one.” He moved to the side of the sofa, sitting on the curved arm beside her, and reached for her hand. “But you’d do this for me, all the same?”

  Brenna nodded mutely, unable to reply. Colin was peeling her kidskin gloves from her hands. Folding the pair, he set them carefully on the sofa beside her, then took one bare hand in his grasp. His skin was hot, burning hers with his touch, and she noted that his hand shook ever so slightly.

  “Why?” he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper beside her ear. “Why would you do this for me?”

  Was he trying to seduce her? Like he’d seduced Lady Mandeville? She moistened her lips before she spoke. “Because it is the truth. ‘Tis reason enough for me.”

  “You said you have no friends in London, none but Jane. What of me, Brenna? What am I to you?”

  Her breath hitched in her chest. “I...I’m not certain. I thought ye were my friend, but then ye said yourself ye were not a man of character, that ye had deceived me. I dinna ken what to think.”

  In an instant he was beside her on the sofa, tugging her into his lap, cradling her like a child against his chest. She could feel his heart slamming against her own breasts, his mouth moving against her hair. She squeezed her eyes shut, her heart torn in several directions at once.

  Colin clasped her small body tightly against his. Why had she chosen this time to appear on his doorstep? Why not a quarter hour earlier, while Jane had remained? All Colin could think about was carrying her upstairs to his bed and having his way with her, doing all the things he’d imagined doing to her since the day he’d met her. His whole body burned with unruly lust, his sudden erection pressing uncomfortably against the flap of his trousers.

  “God’s teeth, Brenna,” he said with a groan, struggling to rein in his desires. “Have you any idea how much I need someone...a friend...right now? I need you. I need you to say you’d do this for me because you believe in me, because you care for me.”

  Her whole body quivered against his. “Nay, I canna say it.”