Andrews Brothers 01 - The Ruse (12 page)

Luke narrowed his eyes and
crossed his arms over his chest. “Prove it.”

“As you wish.” Chadwick glanced
at Brigitta and on impulse he bent and kissed her cheek. Luke dropped his arms
as Chadwick passed into the hallway and burst into sadistic laughter.

Chadwick left, and Luke collapsed
into a chair and buried his head in his hands. He’d thought to bring Brigitta
to his room and help her escape, but now that Chadwick knew her location, she
was no longer safe. A sense of helplessness flooded over him. His younger
brother would do just as he said. He would make sure Brigitta loved him.
Whether she did now or not was inconsequential.

His only hope for rescuing
Brigitta was to get her away from his brother, at least temporarily. He needed
a plan.

Luke tugged the bell rope, and
waited until a timid knock echoed on the wooden door. He opened it, peeked
through the crack at Jarvis, and said, “I need you to find Manny. Then I want
you to go to the carriage house and have the grooms prepare the coupe and bring
it around to the west wing.”

Jarvis cocked his brow, but said,
“Yes, my lord.”

While Jarvis hurried away, Luke
checked Brigitta. Her chest rose slowly and her color seemed to be returning,
causing the tight feeling across his torso to relax.

Luke donned a coat and hat. His
pulse raced as he stared outside the window and waited.

Another knock.

“Enter.”

“You called, my lord.”

“Yes. You must carry Brigitta to
the coupe.”

Manny didn’t argue but hoisted
her body into his arms. Luke led the way and Manny followed. The trek wasn’t
easy. The castle lights had been relit and Luke refused to take the most common
route. Tapping Manny on the arm, he indicated for the footman to follow. Luke
grabbed a lit candle from a table in passing and entered the tunnel entrance
closest to his rooms.

Luke urged Manny forward. Rats
scurried out of their path. Water droplets descended on his shoulders and he
ignored them. The trek through the tenebrous tunnel increased his anxiety.

Moonlight cast an eerie light up
ahead. The tree had been removed and they exited through the tunnel mouth into
the garden. The night air blasted them. Jarvis stood beside the coupe. The
horses neighed softly.

He instructed Manny to lay
Brigitta across the coupe’s interior seat and wrap her in a carriage blanket.
Once she was secured within the confines, Manny closed the door and Luke
climbed onto the driver’s seat.

“Are you sure about this, my
lord?”

“Aye, Manny. I am. Please
continue your silence.”

“But, my lord, will they not be
searching for you by tomorrow?”

“It matters not.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Manny, just do as I say.”

Manny bowed and stepped back.
Luke whipped the horses and set out.

Lanterns on the coupe’s corners
swung wildly as Luke urged the horses to increase their speed. Away from the
estate, he allowed them to slow as he approached the village. Men, women, and
children lay in their beds undisturbed as the couple eased quietly past. Dogs
barked and howled. The mournful sound echoed along the empty cobbled streets.

Once through the town, he again
increased speed. The night withered away as he sped along the rutted dirt road.

No sounds came from within the
coupe and worry beset him. If Brigitta was hurt, then taking her to the summer
house could endanger her life. Increasingly, he prayed she would awaken, but
not until they arrived.

He applied the brake and the
horses slowed as they descended a winding mountain road. At the bottom, he
pulled off the main thoroughfare onto a narrow tree-lined path. The road was
barely wide enough for the coupe and tree limbs snaked out and scraped the
vehicle as it passed.

He clenched his bum cheeks with
each hairpin turn, only relaxing when the house came into view.

The brick cottage was much like
the estate, only smaller. Excessive rooms covered the first and second floors.
It had been largely abandoned since the passing of his mother. The house was in
need of great repair. A caretaker from the local village pretended to care for
the grounds and the house’s basic maintenance.

Weeds covered the front yard and
the once beautifully manicured flower beds were overrun by vines.

The circular gravel drive was
rutted with holes and Luke hit every one as he came to a rolling stop. “Whoa!”
he yelled as he tugged on the reins. “Stand!”

Before leaving the driver’s box,
he peeked through the curtain into the coupe. Brigitta still rested on the
covered seat. Whether she was truly unconscious or faking, he wouldn’t know
until he opened the door, but he hoped it was the former for his own sake.

Slowly he climbed down, eased the
door open, and reached inside. Brigitta didn’t stir. Luke didn’t know whether
to be disappointed or relieved as he lifted her in his arms and carried her
inside the darkened house.

****

The harrowing ride back to the
estate on the least tired horse had Luke’s pulse racing. He cut across the
fields rather than stick to the longer road, and arrived at the estate right as
the last of the party goers were leaving.

Several of the men and women
looked over their shoulders in fear as they skittered to their carriages and
more than one driver was urged not to spare the horses. Likely he could never
have another ball in Stockport’s estate, for who would come after this harrowing,
ghostly experience?

Luke entered through the tunnel
and rushed to his room. Discarding his party clothes, he drew his nightshirt
over his head, jumped in the bed, and grabbed a book. He had just adjusted the
lamp’s wick when the door flew open.

“My lord!”

He blinked. “Yes?”

“Are you all right?” asked Roland
as he rushed to the bedside.

“I would say I am.”

“Thank heavens.”

“What in the world is wrong with
you, Roland? Why, you are positively as white as a sheet.”

“My lord, it is awful. It is just
awful.”

Luke set the book upside down on
the bed as Roland spoke.

“The girl was quite frightened…”
Five minutes later, Roland’s story wound down. “Needless to say, a group of us
went to check out her tale. And in the west wing, too. It is all quite unusual.
But whilst we were gone the lights in the ballroom were extinguished and, well—”
Here Roland stopped talking and cleared his throat.

Luke arched a brow, but he knew
Roland would never finish his statement. He would never tell his true master
the
baron’s
wife, or the woman presumed to be so, had disappeared during
the blackout.

“Yes, Roland, do go on.”

“Well, I — I was just going to
say that someone went missing.”

“Someone did?” Luke moved
forward. “Pray tell me it wasn’t my brother.”

“No, my lord. And do not worry. I’m
sure the individual will be found. Perhaps it is best you didn’t attend tonight’s
festivities. You didn’t attend, did you?”

Luke coughed to cover his smile
over Roland’s fishing expedition. The poor soul was stuck trying to play both
ends. “You see what I’ve been up to this evening.” He lifted his book, and
added, “Perhaps you were correct about my attending. Ghosts floating about and
people going missing, hardly sounds like a place for me.”

“Precisely.” Roland backed toward
the door. “The last guests have finally been calmed and are leaving. The night
is almost over, but perhaps I shall retire as well. If you need anything, my
lord…”

“I will be sure to call.”

Roland bowed and walked out. Luke
didn’t relax until the door clicked shut. He climbed from the bed and paced.

Angry, he snapped his book shut.
He had so hoped Brigitta wouldn’t be missed until tomorrow. But it didn’t
matter. She was safe and secure and secreted away where no one would ever think
to look.

****

“What did you find out? Tell me.”

“I played it just as you
suggested, sir. But there is no evidence Brigitta is still in his room,” said
Roland.

“What! But that is impossible. I
saw her not but a few hours ago. Oh, I should never have agreed to that game.”
Chadwick ran his hands through his hair and worried his lip.

“Pray tell, was your game
successful?”

Chadwick laughed, the sound
strange to his own ears. “Lady Vonda is a shyster.”

“That poorly, sir?”

“We must find Brigitta and bring
her back. Otherwise my creditors will either come for the furniture or my
limbs.”

Roland frowned and left him
alone.

Chadwick stewed. He ran his hand
through his hair. Luke had always been the good one, the smart one, the one
everyone loved, the one who never got in trouble. No matter what Luke did, he
always came out smelling like a rose. Perhaps even his feces smelled like
roses!

Chadwick snickered to himself
then solemnity overcame him. This couldn’t wait. He needed Brigitta. He stalked
to Luke’s room and flung the door wide. Luke lay on his side and appeared to be
asleep.

Grabbing the cover, he flung it
backward. Luke roused and wiped his eyes. With a thick, sleep-filled voice, he
asked, “What is the meaning of this?”

Chadwick grabbed the collar of
his brother’s nightshirt and hauled him to a sitting position. “Where is
Brigitta? She was in your room when I left you.”

“I have no idea what you’re
talking about.”

“No idea what I’m talking about.”
He scoffed at the words and shoved Luke back in the bed. Frustrated, Chadwick
narrowed his eyes, grabbed a candle, and searched Luke’s room. Finished, he
came back and stood before Luke.

Luke straightened his gown and
yawned. “Now, if you don’t mind, I was trying to sleep.”

“Whatever you’re playing at, if
you’ve hidden her away, you will ruin her reputation. It won’t matter what I
did to her; the only thing that will be remembered is how she spent time alone
with you!”

Chadwick turned on his heel and
fled. There had to be a Faro game in town somewhere. He just needed to make
enough money to buy some time.

****

Brigitta moaned and reached for
her head. The pain was abominable and she attempted to yell for Letta. Dryness
stuck her tongue to the roof of her mouth. She struggled to open her eyes.
Alas, when able to pry her lids apart, she gasped.

She sat straight up in bed and
the room spun. Placing her hand behind her, she stopped herself from falling
over until she could regain her equilibrium.

Everything settled into place,
and she squinted. Vivid rays of sunlight filtered through sheer curtains and
Brigitta shielded her eyes. Slowly she swung to the side of the bed and
steadied herself by holding the bedpost.

The room was unfamiliar. A sheer
white fabric draped the canopy. A lace coverlet covered the bed. Oriental rugs
hugged the wooden floor.

A full-length mirror faced her
and she gasped. She still wore the blue ball gown from the night before. A
purple knot covered a large portion of her forehead and she fingered the place
gently, groaning as she touched the tender spot and pain lanced across her
cheek.

Next to the mirror was a thick
rope. No doubt this rope was to pull for a servant, but Brigitta hesitated.
Since she didn’t know where she was, did she really want to draw attention to
the fact that she was awake? She thought not.

Instead, she slipped to the
window. A cool breeze wafted through the cracked shutter. Beyond, the sun
glistened on the glassy top of a lake. The scent of fresh pines and blooming
wildflowers assaulted her senses, and she closed her eyes and enjoyed the
refreshing aroma. Soon enough the pleasure faded. For as pleasant as the house
and scenery were, it couldn’t hide the facts. It appeared she was in the back
of a house, a crystal clear lake and the treetops her only view.

Fear clenched at her gut. Where
was she and how had she gotten there?

Chadwick stomped from the room
and Luke rolled back over. Morning light filtered in through the unshuttered
window, and he shook his head and groaned. What had possessed him to stay abed
so long?

He jumped from the bed, dressed
quickly, and stuffed a bag with clothes. No footman roamed the halls and he
entered the tunnel and took a direct route to the kitchen. He peeked around the
corner and breathed a sigh of relief. The room was empty.

Inside the pantry, he grabbed a
basket and loaded it with food. The cook might not be happy that he’d raided
her stores, but it served her right for siding with Chadwick.

Voices and footsteps echoed
outside, and he hid in the corner and waited.

“I can’t believe it,” said Mrs.
Thorne.

Luke peeked around the corner.
Canisters clinked and clanked as Mrs. Penelope Thorne, the cook, poured flour
into a container and conversed with her two scullery maids.

“What?” asked Clarice.

“I’m bettin’ that Chadwick was
there the entire time and we just didn’t know it.”

Maude’s head turned. “I heard it
straight from Roland himself. Chadwick wouldn’t attend for fear of being
recognized.”

“Pshaw. I don’t believe a word of
it. With all his exploits, the man is hardly likely to start hiding himself
now,” said Mrs. Thorne, wiping her floured hands on a towel.

Clarice also dusted flour from
her hands. “I guess not. But if word reached London about a ball, and that the
baron was in attendance, what a stir it would cause. Much better to have the
ball and the baron remain absent.”

“The whole thing seems a bit
shady to me. Pretending to be the baron and having a wife argue with you to
make funds for the estate.” Mrs. Thorne shook her head. “When the real baron
returns, we’ll probably all be out of work.”

Earlier thoughts about Mrs.
Thorne receiving her just desserts now caused Luke a modicum of guilt.

“Why, you don’t think he would
dismiss us, do you?” asked Clarice, worry furrowing her brow.

“It wouldn’t surprise me.”

The kitchen servants discussed
his pleasant nature and rehashed memories of his parents. Minutes ticked by.
The pleasant delay caused his ears to burn and his legs to go numb. He needed
to get out of hiding and return to Brigitta.

Roland entered. “Ladies, Chadwick
is requesting his breakfast be brought to his room posthaste.”

Twittering, the maids grabbed a
tray, piled it with food, and rushed from the room. Luke took the opportunity
and escaped.

****

Brigitta tugged the bell rope but
nothing happened. She twisted the knob on the door only to find it locked. Over
and over she tugged, ending with the same result. Panicked, she ran to the
window and opened the shutter fully. Metal bars faced her.

She was mostly definitely
trapped. Sitting on the floor, she allowed the fear and weariness to overcome
her and she wept. Finally spent, she used the tail of her gown to dry her face
and strengthened her resolve. There had to be some way out. The estate had
tunnels; could this house not have them as well?

Bookcases filled with colorful
books lined one wall. She pulled all the yellow leather-bound books
representing poetry followed by the red leather books representing fiction onto
the floor and touched or pushed every square inch of the exposed surface.

Then she knocked and punched
every plank and board. She removed portraits and moved sheet-covered furniture.
No secret doors appeared.

She clenched her eyes shut,
lifted her head to the ceiling, and screamed.

“What is going on in here?”

She lowered her gaze and stared
directly at her brother-in-law. He wore a white shirt and a pair of freshly
pressed trousers. Mud splattered his boots and his hair stood up as if he’d
just come from a wild ride.

Anger boiled inside her and she
swelled a few inches in every direction. “You!” She yelled and flew at him in a
rage. Her hands balled into fists and pummeled his chest until he caught her
and wrenched her arms behind her back. His hold was firm, but not hurtful.

His lips touched her ear as he
whispered, “You need not be angry.”

A shiver raced across her skin,
but her anger outshone the feeling. She slung her head back and he yelped with
pain before releasing her. Swirling around to face him, she said, “Why have you
taken me prisoner? What do you want with me? Your brother will have your head
when he finds out what you’ve done.”

The man massaged his reddening
cheekbone. Her breath caught in her throat at how handsome he looked in the
morning’s light.

“I highly doubt that,” he said.

She narrowed her gaze and planted
her hands on her hips. She opened her mouth to defend her husband, but shut it
just as quickly. Honestly, why would he care if she went missing?

She dropped to the floor.

****

This was not how Luke had
envisioned his reunion with Brigitta. She was supposed to be eternally grateful
and fall into his arms, not almost break his nose and then collapse onto the
floor.

Scrambling frantically for
something to say, he stuttered, “M-my l-lady, would you allow me to offer you
b-breakfast?”

“What?” she asked, looking up.
Tears filled her gaze, and his heart wrenched.

“Breakfast awaits you. Would you
allow me to serve you?”

“Do I get to eat at the table or
will I be forced to eat in here?” she asked. Her voice sounded choked with
restrained emotions.

He held out his hand, his heart
squeezed tightly in his chest at the fear he’d caused her. “I would be delighted
if you would join me at the table.”

She ignored his hand and
staggered shakily to her feet, held her head high, and walked into the hallway.
Again, he offered his arm. She stared at it wearily, blinked back tears, and
took the offering.

On the way to the dining room,
Luke wondered if the preparations were adequate. They entered and Brigitta
released his arm and covered a gasp. A smile tickled the corner of her lips and
he sighed with relief.

Hesitantly, she took one seat as
he held the chair for her and he took the other. He spread a napkin over his
lap and dove into the food, not looking at her. Soon he heard the scraping of
silverware and he smiled.

“Why have you brought me here?”
she asked in between bites of roast beef.

“To rescue you.”

She laughed. “How? By placing me
in another prison?”

“Hardly. This house is by no
means a prison. Feel free to come and go as you please. No one will find you
here.”

She drew her brows together. “Is
that supposed to make me feel better?”

Mouth agape, he thought of telling
her yes, but was waylaid by her next question.

“Why was my room locked?”

Fork placed next to his plate, he
dabbed at his mouth and said, “For your own protection. I didn’t want you to
wander off before I returned and explained why you were here.”

“I see.”

“Today I will escort you through
the house and you may pick any bedroom you like. You can of course leave now if
you wish, but I dare say you will not find another living soul in all of
Stockport who is willing to assist in your escape from the baron’s tyranny.”

She placed her hands in her lap. “And
how would you know?”

“Because I know. They all fear
the baron, do they not?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“And since you have no power,
they would be afraid to help you.”

A solitary tear escaped and he
fisted his hands to keep from wiping it away. He said, “If you will permit me,
I do have a plan.”

“You do?” she asked.

“Yes. You will stay here until
your marriage is annulled, and then I will escort you to any place you desire
to go.”

“What?” she said breathlessly.

“I thought it would be obvious
that your marriage would have to be annulled. You can’t expect the baron to
just let you walk away without some form of legitimate separation.”

“B-but I don’t want to leave the
baron.”

“You don’t?” He tried to control
his shock but it was impossible.

“Of course I don’t. I just want
him to pay attention to me. I want to be his wife in all aspects. I want to
spend more time with him.”

“Oh. I believe I misunderstood
your goals.” He narrowed his eyes and stared at the table. The shock started to
fade and Luke tried to adjust to the new situation.

Brigitta scooted back her chair
and paced. “I had such high hopes of meeting him at the ball and telling him
how I felt, but then he didn’t even show.”

Pleasure filled his heart as he
realized Brigitta recognized his eyes, but not Chadwick’s. Deciding not to
inform her that her husband had attended the ball, he said, “What about jumping
from the window? That doesn’t seem like the act of a woman who wishes to stay
where she is.”

“Indeed, I didn’t want to stay
where I was. I have no desire to be locked in my room and only asked to come
out when I’m to be showcased to others.”

“If I hear you correctly, you
want to have a relationship with the baron, my brother.”

“Yes.”

“Why?” he asked, holding his
breath. If she said she loved Chadwick, he would return her even at the
detriment to his own heart.

“For the same reasons I married
him.”

“Which is?”

“The people.” She stopped and
knelt beside him. “The villagers are good people but they need an advocate,
someone to stand up for them. In recent months the baron has charged them
mercilessly, implying he will take more rents than they can pay. They are
mentally beaten and weary and have very little left to give. I thought if I
could persuade him to understand that, then he would relax his grip and
Stockport would improve.”

Luke frowned. Since when had the
people been overcharged? His family had always been lenient landowners. The
estate’s coffers had always remained full, and the current day-to-day business
had been funded by investments. Something wasn’t right.

“So you want to stay with the
baron to help the villagers?”

“Yes.”

“How did you marry the baron?”

She stood and waved her hands. “Oh,
we married in the estate’s parish church, with just Rector Morgan, Roland, and
one other servant in attendance. It was all a very common affair.”

“And was the marriage
consummated?” He held his breath.

She frowned. “No.”

“Why not?”

“That I cannot answer. Naturally
I assumed that would be foremost on my husband’s mind, but I was not even
escorted to his rooms after the ceremony. It was all very odd. But who am I to
question the workings of the titled mind?”

“Who, indeed.”