Brandywine: Regency historical romance (The Brocade Series, Book 1) (40 page)

“Baby. It happens, I’m told, despite the best efforts and most solid intentions. But it does complicate this annulment request of yours, now doesn’t it?
”

“Oh, Lord.”

He tossed back his coffee and stared at Bridget.
She smiled.

“Oh, Lord.”

“It’s really rather entertaining watching your reaction, love. I’m certain that’s why mothers-to-be tell the father themselves, but…there you go. I got the assignment because you’ve bee
n damned
difficult to get hold of.”

It wasn’t shock, and it wasn’t anything like horror. And he really needed to get to his piano. He really was bursting. His cheeks hurt with the grin.

“Oh,
Lord!
”

“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you this...brisk, Gillian, darling. And you’ll have
to forgive your auntie, but I believe I’ll just sit a bit and store how refreshing it is in
my memory. I also have to deal with the distressing amount of
food I’ve just swallowed, thanks to you.”

Gil shoved his chair out with his leap.

“What? I’m sorry, Bridget. I wasn’t listening. And…you must
excuse me, but I’ll be...oh, Lord!”

He was at a full run and drumming his fingers on his thighs before he reached the piano.

CHAPTER THREE

“You didn’t have to come with me, Bridget.”

“You say that after dragging me three hours from town?
Honestly boy, you could’ve said something sooner.”

“I did, but I’m beginning to think you’re deaf.”

“It must have been your concert, love. I believe we could’ve
sold tickets outdoors. It was that moving.”

He flushed and flipped the reins for something to do.

“Of course, if you’d spent the time employed in your toilet
instead of plying the ivories,” Bridget continued, “we’d have been
there before nightfall, but no. You’re a tormentor, Gil. Your wife
tried to warn me, but I didn’t listen.”

“You’re showing the wrong trumps, Bridget. It was your
idea that I change my attire, remember?”

“You want to rush willy-nilly about the countryside clad in
breeches and shirt? I wouldn’t have been responsible if you were
ravished by the milkmaids, Gillian.”

He swallowed and shook his head.

“The least you could’ve done was seen that your dear auntie
had a hamper of foodstuffs before we left. Would that have been
too much to ask?”

“Your gullet rules your life, Bridget.” He softened it by
smiling.

“Something has to, boy. I haven’t been as lucky as you are
in the love-struck department.”

“Lucky? She probably won’t even see me.”

He couldn’t stop
the note of desperation in his voice and hoped she wouldn’t
mention it.

“Oh. She’ll see you, darling. She just won’t want to.”

“My male pride thanks you, Bridget, really, it does. Could you
lean a bit more toward center? I believe you’re making
my carriage tilt.”

“Stuff and fustian, boy, and you know it. But you’ll say almost
anything to keep your mind off the upcoming reunion, won’t you?”

His hands tightened on the reins, but that was the only sign
she’d been right. “Christ, it’s never taken so long before.”

She hooted with laughter at his discomfiture
. “What hasn’t? The ride…or my little remarks? I
can’t give you sympathy if you’re not specific, remember?”

“Why the hell didn’t you just stay in town? I daresay there’s
still something to do, even in the off season. There’s bound to be
food.”

“And miss this? I’d have been tied in knots and unable to eat a bite if I had to keep that little marquis company and await
word of my matchmaking efforts. I don’t have the patience. Oh, look! We’ve arrived, and they’ve got the red carpet out. I wonder
how they knew you’d be visiting?”

“Because you have a big mouth, Bridget. And you’re a lousy liar. You were sent to fetch me. And you don’t take no for an answer.”

He grinned, but it was probably sickly and did nothing to disguise
his nervousness.

“Oh, pooh. There you go, hurting me with your wicked
tongue.”

“Mine? I do believe
if you’d visit that husband of yours more often, he might expire
from yours.”

She laughed so hard he thought she might fall off. The major domo must’ve had the same thought, because he looked
pale as he approached, worried he might become Bridget’s landing net.

“Before we’re separated, and you search out your true love,
Gil, there’s something I need to say.”

“Couldn’t it have been said in the last three hours? Christ,
Bridget, you’re worse than my mother.”

“Oh! You wound me to the bone, Sir!”  She pantomimed pulling a
blade from her breast while the servant waited to help her down
. “There’s no reason for it, either. I’m just giving
a tiny bit of advice.”

“I thought you didn’t give it.”  He handed the reins to the ostler.

“Rarely love, but I must make an exception in your case.”

“Must you?”

“Remember. The Hun, darling. Trust me. Your auntie knows
these things, and she really
does
like it.”

He lifted his eyes heavenward, took a deep breath, and walked up the
steps.

***

Thank God for the Dowager Lady Tremayne.

Helene
didn’t pay attention to everything the woman said, but the
constant chatter helped dim the loneliness. Strange…but here she was,
surrounded by humanity on all sides,
yet still she felt alone. So many people. Gillian’s mother. The servants. The constant stream of visitors. And yet nothing dented the lonely feeling.

Bridget allayed some of it when she stopped by
the previous day. It was enjoyable to trade quips, although Gillian’s
mother looked like she’d need smelling salts. But then Bridget up and departed, leaving Helene at the mercy of the callers who wouldn’t
stop coming.

She knew why. Her fortune.
Ever since Liam Linden brought her the news, she’d
been beset on all sides. It seemed everyone wanted her to sponsor a cause or assist a case. They wouldn’t leave her alone.

Thank goodness for the baby! Gillian’s
desertion didn’t hurt quite as badly now. Helene
let the contentment fill her. Not only was the
comte’s
last wish granted, but she’d never be alone anymore. Once the baby was born, she’d have someone to love her unconditionally. A baby
wouldn’t turn away the instant the agreed-upon time expired, ignoring her pleas. Nor would a baby leave her alone in a masculine quest for
entertainment.

At least…not until he grew up.

Helene knew it was a boy. Gillian Tremayne was certainly obstinate enough to curse
her life with another tawny-haired giant who’d send her into
the same swoons the dowager alluded to.

It was odd, but the woman seemed quite healthy to suffer fainting spells as often as she alluded. She also seemed to have a healthy head of hair despite her claims of pulling them out with worry over her only remaining son.

Gillian.

“Damn him, anyway.”

She was thin
king about him? That was stupid. And wasteful. And stopping. Right now.

“Helene? May I come in?”

Her jaw dropped as the object of her thoughts opened the connecting door from his chambers and walked in. Without a hint of notice. As if he belonged there.

Helene pulled the cover to her chin. “As you’re already in, My Lord…I’ll just assume you’re not awaiting
my wishes one way or the other.”

He’s only here because of the baby! Oh no!

Helene knew exactly where to lay the blame, too. The Dowager Lady Tremayne. Drat her
loose tongue! The
last thing Helene wanted was to know she’d trapped him again!

“Can I get you to call me Gil?”

“No. You can’t. You can’t get me to call you anything except blackguard
.”

He stuck his lower lip out and blew hair off his forehead and looked at the floor. And then he shoved his hands into his
greatcoat pockets. He wore a coat? In his wife’s bedchamber?

“May I be honest with you, Helene?”

He finally asked it, lifting
his head and looking at her from beneath his eyebrows. She swallowed past the dryness
of her mouth. This was ridiculous. And she shouldn’t listen. Despite how he affected her. But that was one of his weapons. He
affected women. He always had. That was no reason to listen to anything he said.

Yet the dark circles under his eyes and general air of defeat
about him tugged strangely at her heart no matter how she
staunched it. He was supposed to be enjoying his status as an
almost-free gentleman, not looking like he’d spent time in one of Bonaparte’s prisons.

“Do you know how?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

“I suppose I deserve that. And more. I haven’t come to
discuss my character, Helene.”

“You have one?”

He paled
suddenly. For some reason, she wondered if he’d collapse like that first time. But
that was a stupid idea.

“You aren’t going to make this any easier, are you?”

“Fine. You want it said easily? You’re here about the baby, Gillian Tremayne. Nothing
more. I’m sorry for trapping you and making your annulment
request impossible, but I didn’t get into this situation myself, you
know.”

He jerked slightly as if she’d given him a blow. But that was even more nonsense. “I didn’t come about the...baby.”

     His voice broke on
the last word. Helene thinned her lips. She knew he was an excellent actor. He’d proved it in Paris. But why would he try it on her now? To what end?

“Didn’t you? Strange…but I can’t think of one other thing that’s happened recently to bring about this impromptu visit
. Your mother has been blessed with a loose tongue,
and I get the brunt of that blessing because now I get to visit with you.”

“I think I rather prefer…your laughter.”

He was looking at the panel
over her head and wouldn’t meet her eyes. His chin looked sharper than before as if he set it.
Was he thinner?

“What the devil does that mean?”

He shrugged and started unbuttoning his coat
.

“It’s not that warm in my chamber, My Lord,” she informed him in a haughty tone
.

“You’re obviously not on the receiving end of this
punishment, love.”

His gaze moved slowly down the headboard and captured
hers as easily as if she actually desired it. She wouldn’t let him get away with it, especially not while using an endearment that sounded
like he meant it.

“
Punishment? For what you did to me, there isn’t
punishment enough!”

“Don’t you think I know that already?  I’ve
castigated myself through every hour of the last three weeks,
Madame.
I don’t need you to inform me it wasn’t bloody
enough!”

Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. He further stymied her by tossing his coat aside and leaning against the bureau beside him
to remove his boots. As if she’d let him stay.

“I won’t listen to anything you say, Gillian, so
you can just put those boots back on.”

“When I’m damned good and ready, sweeting.”

He spoke in
his iron-hard whisper again. Her eyes widened, and that made it impossible not to watch as he
unbuttoned his shirt.

He was definitely thinner, and he
hadn’t carried extra weight before. The loss was obvious. He was leaner, but that just made every bit of him more angled. Visual. Everything looked to ripple and move as he yanked his arms from the shirt, his gaze never leaving her face.

She needed to find her v
oice, and soon. Helene swallowed and cleared her throat.
“I don’t know what you think you’re doing,
but you can’t just walk into my bedroom and expect to be welcomed
. Don’t you dare unfasten those!”

He ignored her to pull the side of his trousers open, ripping two buttons off in
the process. She heard them clattering and then rolling as they hit the floor. And then they stopped. So did her breathing. Helene didn’t know where to
look. What to say. He knew how the sight of him tied her tongue and scrambled her wits.

Still.  

The side of his pants gapped open. She had to get her mouth working. Her voice got stronger with each word.

“I...I’ve already told you my wishes…and we
both know you can bully me. If that’s how you wish to impress
your ownership on me, I can’t fight you. And you know it.”

“Are you quite finished?”

He lowered his head again, to peer at her
from under his brows again. This time there was a little line running his forehead. She’d
rarely seen anything so stirring. Her body lurched before she could stop it. And that started her tongue.

“Finished? I’ve barely begun!  You seriously think I’ll welcome the
sight of you? Grant me more fortitude. You might
send other women’s pulses flying, but you do absolutely nothing
to mine.”

“Is that so?”

She should’ve looked to her defenses.
He let his pants slide down his legs. She couldn’t stop her lips
falling open or the way she licked her lower lip before pulling it into her mouth and
sucking on it. And then h
e undid the
garters below his knees, one at a time and shook them off.