Brandywine: Regency historical romance (The Brocade Series, Book 1) (7 page)

“Very good. Very good. I’ll take my leave then. You know where to find me. Good
eve, gentlemen.”

He dipped his head toward Gil, who ignored him, and
left.

It took exactly seven seconds to react, and Reg was there blocking him,
although it looked to take all his weight to do so.

“Curse the witch!” Gil was enraged and barely holding to it. It helped to clench his teeth. But then, every word was barely intelligible. Clipped. Short. “Riggs? Ready my
phaeton, and be quick about it!”

“You can’t leave now, Gil,” Reg protested. “Think, man. The
road’s dark, there are highwaymen about, and you’ll ruin your chestnuts with the speed.”

“You wanted to meet my bride, didn’t you?” Gil shoved his friend’s hands aside, reached the door, and slammed it into the wall with opening it. “Now’s your chance. You have exactly ten minutes to make up your mind.”

***

There was something to be said for a stroll through the grounds. Even in early spring. Helene sniffed the brisk air appreciatively.
Bridget had said
she needed time to compose a letter and asked if Helene could find
something to occupy her. Of course she could. She was so
grateful to Lady Bridget she’d do anything the woman asked.

The commotion behind her made her start. She had just
enough time to turn before the best-looking man she’d
ever seen grabbed her arms.

“You little whore!” Gil snapped. “Damned if I shouldn’t put you
over my knee, and—. What in blazes have you been doing to
yourself?”

Helene went limp. If it hadn’t been for his hands holding, her, she
would’ve dropped. Perhaps he saw it in her eyes, because his hands on her arms tightened until she winced.

“My Lord? Please? You’re hurting me,” she whispered.

“I’ll do a damn sight more than hurt you, you little
guttersnipe!”

“Such a loving reunion, Gillian. And I really hate to interrupt, but would you be so kind as to
introduce us…properly?”

The man holding her turned, and Helene found her back
against him, facing a slight man with a receding hairline, soft chin, and the sweetest eyes she ever saw. Of course, after looking
into the almond-shaped, blue hatred of the man holding her,
anyone’s eyes would look sweet.

“Helene, meet Reginald Dunston, the marquis of Dunsberry.”

“I think I’m charmed.”

She smiled slightly, and the arms
around her tightened even more.

“You can unhand her, Gil,” the marquis said. “I doubt she’ll run. You won’t run, will you?”

He smiled solicitously, and her eyes filled with tears.

“Oh, don’t cry, My Lady. I beg you. I’ve heard of that state,
and it was enough to send Gil running from the place.”

“She’ll do more than cry, Reg. Out of my way.”

Helene found herself staring at the ground as the man tossed her
over his shoulder, ignoring her pitiful struggles.  Where was Bridget?
And the servants? They wouldn’t allow anyone to be man-handled like this. Would they?

She knew the answer before he walked into the parlor and tossed her into a chair, with a motion that nearly sent her
over the other side.

“What do you have to say for yourself, Brandy?”

“I...I don’t know where it’s kept.”

His complexion darkened. “Know where
what’s
kept?”

“The brandy.”

He leaned down on the chair arms, entrapping her, and
Helene shook as her eyes filled with tears again. His eyes
remained hard.  

“I’m not playing any more games, Madame.” He sneered and
narrowed his eyes further.

“Gil!” Lady Bridget shouted. “Unhand her this instant!”

“Don’t interrupt, Bridget, or I’ll serve the chit for sup!”

He
didn’t turn his head to answer, as if looking at Helene for her reaction
to his threat. And she gave it to him. She paled
, her gloved
hands going to her cheeks.

There’s something you should know, Gil,” Bridget said.

“Get out, Bridget, or I’ll have you thrown out!”

“The day I back down to you is the day I go back to my
husband, Gillian Tremayne! I don’t care what your excuse is for
your behavior, but there’s something you should know. She’s
changed, blast it!”

“She only lies better. Don’t you, darling?”

Helene’s eyes went wide as he
leaned in to whisper it, his voice so deep. So masculine. So threatening.

“What? No answer? What a shame. I look forward to
hearing what else you’ll present to me. What say you, love?”

“She can’t possibly remember anything the way you’re treating her,” Bridget said. “And I hope you’re listening to me, Gillian! She doesn’t remember
. She doesn’t!”

He had eyes as hard as sky blue agates, an aquiline nose,
and, even with his dark hair wind-ruffled, he was astonishingly
handsome. Her heart fluttered oddly. She had to stifle it. And quickly.

“Oh…she remembers just fine, don’t you, darling?” Gil asked. “She’ll
even tell me all about her childhood memories. And I’ve got all blooming day to
listen.”

“Oh dear.”  She cleared her throat and blinked the moisture in her eyes away.
“This isn’t how I wanted to say it.”

“You hear that, Bridget? She’s going to talk to me now. You
can stop acting like a knight defending virtue, for Christ’s sake.”

“Gil, this is ever so entertaining,” the marquis inserted, “but, since we
just traveled all night, and I’m famished, perhaps your lovely aunt
would show me to some victuals?”

“Well, I never!”

Helene watched Bridget stand to her full height, dwarfing the
Marquis of Dunsberry, but he met her look squarely.

“Surely you have, Madame. And often. I suppose it
wouldn’t be amiss if I talk you out of some coffee? An egg or
two wouldn’t go unappreciated, either. Let’s allow the Lord and Lady Tremayne to get reacquainted, shall we? Charmed.”

He bent his head toward Helene and adroitly steered Bridget away.

“Well, Brandy love?”

Helene swallowed, watching his blue eyes soften a bit. She
couldn’t resist the smile he gave her, and she returned it
tremulously.

“I don’t drink it,” she whispered.

“Goddamn it, don’t play me for a fool! I’ve had enough of
that state to last me a lifetime. If I ever get my hands on Helen, I
swear I’ll strangle her.”

“Helen? You speak in riddles, Sir, and then won’t give me
the chance to answer. What does my cousin have to do with
anything?”

“You remember a cousin, do you? Amazing gift you have, My Lady.”

“I don’t understand, but, as it
happens, I remember Helen quite well. You say you know her.
How is she?”

“I don’t give a damn for her health. A more conniving,
cursed, blackmailing bitch has never been whelped.”

“You really
do
know Helen.” Helene placed a gloved hand
over her mouth to hide her smile.

“I amuse you, do I? Odd. Here I thought you might expire of fright.”

He lifted one side of his mouth, and Helene didn’t dare
comment on it. At least his blue eyes were sparkling. And he no longer looked thunderous. He really was
terribly handsome, too. But she’d been warned about that.

“I don’t think I’m supposed to be frightened of you,” Helene replied. “After all, Bridget said I married you, but I don’t suppose it was a love match?” At his frown, she continued, “Not a love
match by any stretch. All right, then, Lord Tremayne, you tell me why you wed me, since I’m a ‘guttersnipe and all’.”

Her eyes widened, and her mouth made a perfect circle as
she mimicked his voice, then she clapped her hands over her lips.

“On my! I spoke just like you, My Lord! How is such a
thing possible?”

“Because you’re one hell of an actress, my love.”

“You call me love, but I doubt you mean it. In fact, you
don’t seem fond of me at all, are you?”

He stood away from the chair and sighed. Helene couldn’t
take her eyes from him. Traveling through the night could even be
said to agree with him, although the area under his eyes was dark, and his clothes were a bit rumpled. Even so, he’d cut a fine path anywhere he chose.

“You didn’t answer my question, My Lord.”

“Call me Gil, for Christ’s sake.” 

“Do you speak such expletives as a normal course? Yes, I
suppose you do. Fair enough. Don’t answer my question then, and I shall invent the course of events. I must be good at that, or you
wouldn’t call me a liar, would you?”

“Helen tricked me into marrying you. I can’t possibly be
fond of you, because I don’t bloody know you. Hell, you don’t
even know yourself.”

She fiddled with a pearl button on her glove. It gave her something to do rather than continue to try and form
words while looking at him. The man was more than handsome. He was wit-stealing beautiful. He was taking hers.  

“You say…um. Helen tricked you? I thought you had more sense. At least, Lady Bridget says as much
.”

“I do have better sense, but the bitch blackmailed me, damn it.
Weren’t you listening?”

“Blackmailed you? Helen? What did you do
? Gerard perhaps…but Helen? Please, Gil. She’s no
match for you.”

She giggled and saw he didn’t like it. She immediately sobered.

“You might think it amusing, but I’m up to here with the
Bingham’s, including you.”

He gestured well over his head, but she found it much more interesting watching where his skin darkened along his jaw line
.

“Very well. I’m damned by my lineage. If
that’s the best you can do, you’re wasting your time and mine. I
still don’t know why I would consent to Helen’s trickery, if that’s
what it was. For all I know, you had a grand passion for her,
which would easily explain your temper thus far this morn,
wouldn’t it?”

“She was prepared to foist her bastard on the world and
claim it as mine. That’s what she did.”

Helene gasped. “You, Sir, are no
gentleman. I’ve had my fill of you, too. Here I’ve been forced to sit, listening, an
d all I can think is how stupid I must’ve been to agree to this wedding. I would
never
have encouraged such a churlish
fellow as yourself.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m retiring before I need smelling
salts.”

She stood and was shoved back
so quickly, she didn’t even see him move.

“You aren’t going anywhere until I say so. Is that perfectly
understood?”

“Is this how you accomplished our wedding, Lord Tremayne?
I can hardly stand against your physical presence, and well you
know it. Fine. Bully me and see how far it gets you!”

“Oh, you didn’t have to be bullied, Brandy. I just had to do
this.”

Helene didn’t see it coming. If she had, she would’ve
readied a defense. As it was, the touch of his lips pushing
against hers made such a riot of sensation crash through her
stomach, she felt lightheaded, and then she stiffened. Went cold. Terrified. It was her whimper that stopped him, and he l
ooked as
disbelieving as she felt when he lifted his head.

“Now do you know why I married you?”

He asked it in a soft tone that caused shivers.
She shook her head and then had to consciously move her hands from his
chest. Laws, but even through her gloves and his cambric shirt,
she’d felt his heart beating. The sensation was incredible; vaguely stirring something in her breast…and yet so frightening it stole her breath.  

“Oh. I think you’ll figure it out.”

He didn’t look back as he walked away
. And blast it all, if her eyes didn’t follow him.

CHAPTER TWO

“I’m not entirely sure, Gillian, but it looks as if she’s leaving you.”

It was his aunt
Bridget. Talking nonsense. Gil moved his head back to contemplation of the fireplace.

“Well? Aren’t you going to do something about it?”

“My head hurts too much for riddles, Bridget, and even if you’re my favorite relative, I’m not listening. The chit has nowhere to go and no funds.”

“Well, she’s got two feet. If I’m not mistaken, she was using them to leave over
an hour ago. And she was wearing one of my traveling cloaks.”

“Why the blazes didn’t you say something sooner?” Gil leapt from his
chair, disturbing the spaniel in his lap.

“I thought she was just taking some air.”

“By God, she can’t leave me! She already made me the laughingstock of London, for Christ’s sake.”

“I’m
so
glad you’re concerned for her welfare, Gil, my love. Why, a
body would think you’re enamored of her.”

“She may’ve changed, Bridget, although I have my doubts
about that, but she’s still a constant reminder of my stupidity, now
isn’t she?”

“I think she actually saved you from a
fate worse than death.”

“Marriage to Helen?”  He asked it as he shoved his feet into
his boots.

“Exactly.”

“Well, don’t just stand there, see a mount readied and brought around to the front stoop.”

“Already seen to, love.”

He lifted his eyebrows. “You’re very sure of me, aren’t you?”

“Someone in this crazed world has to be. You
will
bring her
back, won’t you?”

“Of course. My reputation won’t survive otherwise.”

“You’ll not count yourself lucky that she just disappeared?”

“Do I look like I’m giving chase or not?”

He blew her a kiss
from the door and shrugged into his jacket in the next motion. This was ridiculous. Why couldn’t the girl
accept things the way they
were? He hadn’t had any sleep, he’d driven his chestnuts just
like Reginald warned him he would, and his eyes felt filled with
gravel.

“The stupid chit,” he muttered. There were worse fates than marriage to him. She’d already experienced some. Even if she
hadn’t been in the French revolution and seen her parents
guillotined, she’d still endured many horrors in the sanatorium.

It was odd, but she acted like his kiss was the most horrid
thing he could’ve done to her. He wondered, as he pulled himself into
the saddle, if that was what she ran from.

“Did Lady Tremayne take the main road or the path,
Witherspoon?” he asked.

“Neither, My Lord. She set off right into the woods over
yonder. You’ll bring her back, won’t you?”

Gill looked heavenward for a moment before looking back to his butler. “I am in the saddle, Witherspoon, and I am
giving chase.”

“Just so, My Lord.”

It took him ten minutes to find her, and she was
ridiculously easy to spot. With Bridget’s puce-green traveling
cape trimmed in pink, she’d stand out anywhere. Gil was surprised she
hadn’t frightened the woodland creatures with the color.

She looked ov
er her shoulder at him, and actually walked
faster. She really should watch where she was going, however. He watched as she stumbled, before falling into a ditch, but her cry of
pain had him off the horse and beside her instantly.

Good. She still breathed. And that’s when he got angry.

“Well? Are you hurt? Because if you aren’t, by God,
I’ll hurt you. Damn everything, Helene! Don’t you know better
than to go running headlong about the estate, getting into God
knows what trouble?”

“I’m never hurt, My Lord.”

She looked at him with her
burgundy eyes, and he smiled.

“That much I believe.”

“Why didn’t you just let me go? I wouldn’t have made
trouble.”

She frowned, which made the little scar on her cheek
dimple, and Gil fought a sudden impulse to touch it.

“Your middle name should be trouble, My Lady.”

She started to stand but crumpled when her
ankle gave.

“Not hurt?” he queried nonchalantly.

“It’s not so much that I can’t—”

Her words ended on a gasp as she tried to stand again. Gil watched her tears dry immediately after
appearing in her eyes. That’s when he knew he didn’t want Brandy back, but at least Helene wasn’t crying. That was an improvement — or so he
thought.

“You can’t walk any farther, love. Sorry.”

He watched her color at his whisper, as if she’d never had a man, let alone whored with God alone knew how many. It was amazing what the mind could forget when it wished.

“I...I can make it. Just give me a moment.”

“We have all the moments in the world, darling. Take your
time.’’

He stretched out beside her and closed his
eyes.

***

Helene watched him sleep and knew exactly when it began.
His breathing deepened, and he made the strangest noise, like he
was grumbling at her each time he sucked in air. She blushed
when she realized she was staring.

When Bridget first described him, Helene had demurred. She’d convinced herself it wasn’t real. She couldn’t be wed! She
didn’t want a husband. After what Gerard tried to do to her
each time he was alone with her, she didn’t want any man’s
attentions, especially one who made Bridget’s voice deepen when
she spoke of him.

Bridget mentioned Gil’s disappointment at being so young
when the war began, and then his older brother died, forcing Gil to assume the title. He spent many years prowling about London, drinking and gaming through his disillusionment
over the War Department’s refusal to sell him a
commission.

He wanted to kill other human beings?

It was a wonder his mother hadn’t collapsed. Of course, Bridget
told her how near the dowager was at that state when Gil
suddenly married without warning.

The truth would probably kill her.

She should probably try her ankle again. It was clear he wouldn’t stop her. He was still snoring. He had one arm over his face so she couldn’t examine it,
but he should’ve at least changed since his arrival. He was wearing wrinkled drain-pipe trousers, cambric shirt, and a jacket he probably donned
the previous night before. He wasn’t dressed for riding. He was extremely unkempt
and smelled of whiskey. His boots were in sore need of a
good blacking, too.

“Am I passing your inspection, love?”

“I wasn’t inspecting. Thank you very much.”

“
Why deny it? There’s no one to impress, and I already know
how I fire your blood. At least, Brandy always told me so.”

“
Who is this Brandy? You continually toss her at me, and I grow tired of it.”

“Of course you do. And well, you should. Brandy was a
wench I knew. I rather liked her. She called me her dream-man.”

“Of all the men I could
not
remember marrying, you’re the least likely candidate, My Lord. I little care how many
women referred to you as such.”

He chuckled and rolled onto his chest, tucking a section of
her skirt under him as he did so. Helene chose not to notice. He
may have done it inadvertently, and if she noticed, well, it would
mean she cared.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you on that subject, because I am most
certainly the man you married. Of course, if another suitable
candidate could be plucked from the air, I might not even fight
myself free of you.”

“The nerve! I was running from you, Sir! Now you tell me
you’d let me go? What do you take me for, an idiot?”

Gil pulled a bit on her skirt. Helene rolled
alongside him, stiffening as she came into contact with his leg.

“Call me strange, but despite every indication, I most certainly don’t take you for an idiot, Helene. I made that mistake
once before.”

He bent his mouth to hers, and her eyes widened in horror
as she realized what he intended. Before she could stop, the most
ear-shattering screech came from her mouth. She clamped her
hand over it as her body shuddered with the echo of her voice
drifting into the trees.

“
Oh…God!”  Tears filled her eyes as she stared at him, seeing a different
scene unfolding before her eyes.

“Stop them! Can’t you see what they’re
doing?” She grabbed Gil’s lapels and yanked him to her, shouting
into his ear. “They’ll die! Stop them, Sherry, stop them! My
mama did nothing. She—. Sherry! Save them!”

“They can’t be saved, you stupid girl. Now move yer arse
afore we’re noticed.”

“God, why doesn’t she hear me? Isn’t there a God,
anymore?”

“That’s right, Brandy. There’s no God. Would He let the
comte and his family git their fool heads chopped off like that?”

“No.”

The last word came out in an emotionless whisper, and then she
heard someone calling her name. But how would anyone in Paris
know her as Helene?

“Helene? Stop.”

Warm breath caressed her cheek, helping dissolve the bloody scene. She turned subconsciously to him, snuggling her nose under his chin and waiting for her trembling to pass. No one
would know if she needed someone for a span. Where was
the harm in holding to another human being for a moment? She knew she couldn’t
stay, because someone might find out, and
there would be the devil to pay. The devil always got his due. So s
he pulled back, and let him go. She didn’t dare
look at anything other than his chin.

“That was a fine piece of acting, my dear. Remind me to book the theater the next time you decide to favor me with it.”

She was thankful she wasn’t looking him in the eye. The disdain in his voice carried enough condemnation.
“I’m sorry, My Lord. Truly, I am.”

He frowned, but she didn’t care as long as he let her up.
She tugged on her skirt.

“You’re ready to return to the family fold, are you?
Thank goodness for small favors. As it is, Bridget will be tearing
the towels apart in her anxiety over what I might be doing to you.”

“Will you let me up now, Lord Tremayne?”

“We’re married, love. You can call me Gil. It’s the proper
thing to do, I’m told, so don’t worry your little head over such a
trifle.”

“You’re funning with me, aren’t you...Gil?”  She stumbled on
the name.

“Why, darling, I never fun when I’ve got a woman trapped like
this. There are much more serious things I could do.”

She shook her head frantically.

“Brandy, you hurt me to the quick, you do.”

“Gil—”

“I know. You have no idea who Brandy is, so humor me. She would’ve liked it if I did this.”

He rolled on top of her so easily, she wondered if she were
really fighting. Why else would she make it easy for him to perch
atop her, imprisoning her legs with his? His blue eyes were dark
with the strangest expression, too.

“Brandy would’ve really liked it.” He sucked on her
chin, and she trembled, instinctively knowing not to struggle.

“No pleas for your virtue, Helene?”

He looked at her so closely, she could see each individual eyelash. She didn’t dare move, even to blink. He frowned at her compliant state, just
as she knew he would, before he lowered his lips to hers, teasing
her lower lip with both of his.

“No, Gil. Please, no.”

“My fine lady doth protest too much, I think.”  The words were nuzzled against her lips
.

“I’ll do anything, Gil!”  She squirmed
.

“Really?”

“Just don’t touch my heart then.” Her whisper trembled. It matched the shivering overtaking her.

“And how do you suggest I do that?”