Andrews Brothers 01 - The Ruse (7 page)

The room looked as it had when
she’d scampered from the window, except the bed frame had moved a few inches
closer to the window and a puddle of water covered the sagging mattress. The
makeshift rope, made of gowns, still dangled through the open window and
shutters.

“My lady, what happened here?”

She blinked back tears,
straightened her shoulders, and enacted an air of haughtiness. “It is of no
consequence.”

“I will have Letta assist with
the clean up.”

“No. I prefer to do it alone.”

“Very well. The mattress will be
replaced.”

She nodded.

The door clicked behind her and
she allowed unhappy tears to fall. She dropped the quilt, removed the
nightshirt, and found one gown still lingering at the bottom of her wardrobe.
Dressed, she began the process of retrieving the rope.

Waterlogged from hours in the
rain, the makeshift rope took all her strength to gather and pull inside. Once
untied and wrung out, the gowns hung near the fire to dry. The action was
hopeless, however, as the gowns were stretched beyond repair and faded from the
wet.

Leaving the gowns, she worked on
the mattress. Scooping and dumping the water into a basin, she flung the
contents out the open widow.

She muttered under her breath,
the words increasing in intensity with each full basin. “How could I have let
that man who looked so much like Chadwick distract me from my goal? I should
have lifted myself from his person and run.”

She leaned against the bed frame
and pushed. It didn’t budge and she abandoned scooting it back into place.

“It was those eyes. Those bronze
colored eyes did me in. Now I’m right back where I started.” She punched the
pillows and water squirted onto the lavender wallpaper.

By nightfall, Brigitta’s hands
clenched in pain, her arms throbbed, and her back muscles quaked. She rested in
a chair and stared at the door. The new mattress never came.

Grabbing the quilt, she spread it
on the floor, laid herself inside it, and rolled up. What was she going to do?
Yes, she’d reentered the estate. What other choice had she when the brother was
prodding her like cattle? But now that she was back inside her prison and
alone, she had to make plans for her future. It was all well and good to say
she was married to Chadwick and needed to make a go of it. But what if he didn’t
agree?

Embers in the fireplace died and
she reached out to stoke them. The poker close by, she closed her eyes and
drifted into an uneasy sleep.

Luke balanced the tray of food on
his hip and opened the door. “My lady, I’ve brought meat, cheese, and crackers.
I believe there should be enough—”

He stopped in mid-sentence. The
room was empty, Brigitta and his quilt missing. Tray placed on a table, he
walked to the window. The shutters were closed and he pulled them apart and
looked into the yard.

No sign of her outside. Luke
searched his suite and the surrounding hallways and rooms, revealing nothing.
About to give up, he chanced to see Roland stoking the fire in another room.

The aging man had been with the
family since Chadwick’s birth. His stepmother, Carol, had insisted that
Chadwick have his own valet and his father had relented. Over the years, Roland’s
competence had elevated him beyond that initial position and now he carried the
title of butler.

Luke stepped in front of him.

Roland backed up a step and
scowled. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Roland, it is good to see you as
well.”

Roland exclaimed, “My lord!
W-why, I did not realize you had returned. Do forgive my impudence. The light,
you look different, wetter. I was, um, momentarily stunned.”

Luke waved the words away. “I have
been about for some days.”

Roland’s face reddened. “You
should have let us know. We would have had a special meal in your honor.”

“No need.” Luke steepled his
fingers under his chin. “Tell me, how is my brother?”

“Ah,” Roland gulped, “quite well.”

“Oh, good. And the household
staff? How are they? Is everything running as smoothly as when I left?”

Luke waited while Roland rolled
his tongue in his mouth and searched for answers. The opportunity for Roland to
tell of Chadwick’s scheme was there. What would Roland do with it?

“The household is in excellent
condition, your lordship. However, I was just on my way to take care of an
urgent repair. If you like, I can order the cook to arrange something special
for you.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“If there is nothing else…”

Luke shook his head.

“Then if you’ll excuse me, your
lordship.” Roland bowed and walked away.

Luke shouted, “Roland?”

He stopped and turned. “Your
lordship?”

Luke closed the distance. “Roland,
I would appreciate it if you would keep my return quiet.”

“My lord?”

“I don’t know how long I’ll be
staying, so there is no reason to upset the entire household, especially since
Chadwick is doing such a good job.”

Roland ran his finger around his
collar.

“I will of course require Jarvis’
assistance, but no others need to know of my presence. Do you understand?”

“Yes, your lordship. It will be
as you wish.”

“You’re dismissed.”

Roland bowed and hurried away.
Anticipating that Roland would break his wishes and hurry to Chadwick, Luke
waited until Roland rounded the corner before following him. Excitement pulsed
through Luke’s veins. It reminded him of the thrill of being on a hunt.

Roland walked outside through the
terrace from the parlor, around the estate grounds, and stared upward at
Brigitta’s window. He shook his head and muttered unintelligible words.
Continuing on, he stopped at the blocked tunnel entrance. A grin split his face
and Luke’s concern mounted. Could the butler know of Brigitta’s escape? Was
that the reason she had disappeared from his room?

Roland walked farther and entered
through a servant’s side door beside the kitchen. Luke hung back. He assumed by
Roland’s direction that he wasn’t headed to see Chadwick immediately, so Luke
snuck back the way he’d come. Inside the house, he found another tunnel
entrance. With a lit torch he easily found the opening to Brigitta’s suite.

Luke peered through a hole behind
a wall portrait. Brigitta lay upon the floor, curled in his quilt and snoring
softly. He closed the panel and worked to control his rising anger.

The way he saw it, he had three
options: confront Brigitta, confront Chadwick, or wait. All these options were
riddled with complications.

Making his way back to his rooms,
he had an epiphany. Inside his suite, he pulled the bell rope and waited.

****

Chadwick lounged in a tub of warm
water. One upstairs maid massaged his shoulders while another massaged his
feet.

A cool burst of air wafted into
the room and he sat straighter. “What is the meaning of this?”

Roland entered.

“Oh, it is just you.” He slid
back into the water. “Do close the door, will you? It is dreadfully cold
tonight.”

Roland complied. “Sir, I need to
speak with you.”

“Go ahead.”

“I mean alone.”

Chadwick rolled his eyes. “Ladies,
be gone with you. But stay close; I may have need of you later.”

They scattered, clucking like
hens. Chadwick rose from the tub and wrapped himself in a towel.

“Sir, your brother has returned.”

Chadwick twirled. “What?”

“The baron, he is here.”

Chadwick grabbed Roland’s
shoulders. “B-but no, it can’t be! Where was the warning? He didn’t write of
his return in his letters. Oh, this is terrible.”

Chadwick stalked the room like an
angry cat. He waved his hands around. “I can’t believe this. It is too early.
What am I going to do? We must find a way to make him return to London. That’s
it. If he just goes for a little while, then all will be well.”

Roland cleared his throat and
Chadwick faced him. “Is there more?”

“Sir, I’m afraid to report
Brigitta escaped her room.”

“What! Impossible. Have you found
her?”

“Believe it or not, I found her
in your brother’s room.”

Chadwick blinked. Flustered, he
paced to the fireplace. His brother’s secret return was a complication he had
not anticipated. The last message he’d received insinuated his brother would
return as a married man. Did that mean he’d brought a woman home with him? Or
did the cad plan to steal Chadwick’s own fake wife?

He opened his mouth to speak his
concerns but changed his mind. Stalking back to stand in front of Roland, he
said, “Let me get this straight. My wife escapes her room and turns up in Luke’s
bedroom.”

“Yes.”

“Interesting.” Wonderment filled
him. How had Luke managed it?

“In all honesty, I believe it was
a mistake. The young lady tied gowns together and shimmied down them into the
garden. There she found the tunnel entrance and reentered the estate. She
probably happened on his room by chance.”

“Believe this, do you?”

“It is possible,” said Roland.

“Have you spoken with my brother?”
asked Chadwick.

“Briefly, yes.”

“Did he mention Brigitta?”

“No.”

“Did he say why he’d returned and
if he planned to stay?”

“No, sir.”

“What did he say?” asked
Chadwick, desperate to discover his brother’s motivation.

“He only asked about you and the
household, and insisted I not bother telling the staff he had returned.”

“Ah, there it is. The rub. He
expects me to fail, so he returned home to catch me. Won’t he be surprised to
find, well, I guess in a way he is right.” He paused, before saying, “I didn’t
exactly succeed in keeping the estate afloat while he was in London. But it
does still stand, even if the coins to maintain it have disappeared.”

He paced the room and sighed. “This
is hopeless. Perhaps I should bring him in on the scheme and he can help us.”

“I do not think that wise.”

Chadwick ignored Roland and
tapped his forehead. This matter added another obstacle to his already
difficult plan. It wouldn’t take long for his brother to discover he had
impersonated him in his absence. If Luke hadn’t already met Brigitta, then it
was only a matter of time until he did.

What would the young lady do when
she realized that her husband wasn’t the baron? He smiled. She would probably
stab a dagger into his heart. The kitchen staff would need to be told to keep
all knives from her supper plate.

He needed a plan and he needed
one quick.

****

Streaks of red and gold light
peeked through the chink in the shutters. Brigitta shivered and hitched the
quilt higher. The fire had died during her slumber and she had no wood to start
another. Roland had told her earlier that her life could be easy or hard, it
was her choice, and apparently she had chosen poorly.

Sighing, she unwrapped the quilt
and stood. Slippers swathed her feet, the fur lining comforting every toe. The
bed still sagged faintly in the middle. She felt of the material, and her hand
came away damp.

Wet gowns lined the furniture.
Her stomach growled. Anger filled her at this situation. She was the baroness,
not an ordinary person to be trifled with.

Flinging the door wide, she
stomped into the hallway and glared at the livered footmen guarding the door. “I’m
going downstairs,” she proclaimed.

Aghast, they studied one another
with their mouths agape. She had gotten five steps along the hall when a hand
grasped her arm.

“Begging your pardon, my lady,
but we have orders—”

“That’s absurd. I’m the Baroness
of Stockport. My bed is soaked, my gowns are wet, and I’m using a quilt for
warmth. And I skipped yesterday’s mid-day meal. Now, you can move aside and
allow me access to the kitchens, or at the next tour I will scream about these
atrocities until the walls fall around the visitors’ ears.”

The footman released his grip,
took a step back, and lowered his head.

“Thank you.” She lifted her chin
with dignity and poise and went in search of the kitchen’s warmth, uttering a
word of praise because Chadwick’s staff were ill-trained.

****

“You did what?” drifted Roland’s
question through Luke’s closed door.

The footman’s reply was muffled
and Luke drew closer.

“—she gave me no choice. She
threatened to tell the tourists.”

“Pshaw. What has she to tell? She
lives in a noble estate surrounded with servants.”

“With no bed, food, clothing, or
wood for heat.”

“That is preposterous,” sputtered
Roland.

“Nay, it is not. I checked her
rooms—”

The sound of a slap echoed. “You
insolent fool. You will not enter her rooms. You will do nothing unless I tell
you to do so.”

“But—”

“Leave my sight and return to
your post. I will deal with this after I speak w-with…” Roland didn’t finish
his sentence.

The footman didn’t reply, and
Luke hastened back to the fireplace and leaned his arm on the mantel. Minutes
passed before the door opened behind him. He placed a brooding look on his face
and swung to meet his visitor.

“It is about time, Roland. I
called for you hours ago.”

“Your lordship, forgive me, but
when you summoned me it was well past midnight and I assumed you were resting.”

“Humph.”

“Please allow me to assist you.”

“I want to plan a masked ball.”

“Your lordship?” asked Roland, a
worried look covering his face.

Luke cleared his throat to keep
from smiling at Roland’s obvious hesitation. “You heard me. One like Stockport
has never seen, nor will see again. One with lords and ladies from surrounding
areas. One where the faces of the women are displayed in all their natural
beauty, and the gentlemen are covered.” He paused for effect then added, “When
can it be done?”

Roland sputtered and stumbled
over an answer.

“Good. As soon as you have begun
preparations, we will discuss the guest list.” Luke paced his room and tapped
his finger to his chin.

“Your lordship…” began Roland.

“Yes?”

“Your lordship, at this time a
ball would be ill advised.”

Luke crossed his arms. “Why?”

“Well, you see, um…”

“Yes?”

Roland drew his form upward,
straightened his spine, and puffed out his chest. The man was a head shorter
than Luke, with a gut that protruded forward and jiggled with every movement.
Gold braided velvet stretched taut against his girth. Sweat beaded his wrinkled
brow.

“Your lordship, forgive me, but
the treasury can hardly afford a ball.”

“Oh, you’re too modest. Jarvis has
explained what an excellent job you’ve done at procuring funds for the estate.”

“Yes, but—”

“I believe the event should occur
in two weeks time, don’t you think?”

Roland sighed and rattled his
hefty jowls.

“Good. We shall discuss this
further as the time grows near.”

“As you wish, my lord.”

Roland backed out of the room and
Luke struggled to hide his satisfied smile.