She nodded, suddenly too sleepy to care much. She was cold, tired and exhausted. “I believe I would like to sit down and wait.”
“Of course.” He ran a hand through his hair. “There is the sofa, but it is devilishly uncomfortable, you know.”
“I do not mind.” Anything would do.
He took her arm and led her to the heavy, old sofa. She nearly collapsed on it. He stood looking down at her. “Hell. Your clothing is wet and you must be cold. I would build a fire but there is no wood. Unless I use the furniture.”
“Oh, no, please do not do that. You would need an axe at any rate.” The last thing she wanted was to create more problems than she had already. “I will be fine.”
“Your gown is soaked.”
“Only the hem.”
“At least I can remove your stockings and slippers.” Before she could protest, he had set the candle down on a side table and knelt down in front of her. He slanted a slight smile at her. “I have done this before, you know.”
“Yes.” As before his hands were gentle and she closed her eyes, mesmerized by his soothing touch. When he was done, he straightened. “You had better lay down. You look as if you are about to fall asleep.” And then he sneezed.
For the first time she noticed how fatigued and cold he looked. The bottoms of his pantaloons were wet and his fine embroidered waistcoat was streaked with mud. Since she was still wearing his coat, he had not had even that extra protection.
“You must be cold as well. You must have your coat.” She started to remove it only to have his hand come down on her shoulder.
“Hardly. I don’t need the coat. Lay down, Chloe.”
“I am always much colder when I lay down.”
“You won’t be because I intend to lay down with you.” His brow lifted slightly at her expression. “I am not planning a seduction. I merely intend to keep you warm. This room is damnably cold and the longer we stay here the colder you will feel. I’ve no intention of allowing you to catch a chill.” He sat down next to her. “First I’d best remove my own wet stockings and shoes.” He bent and swiftly removed them. After he shrugged out of his damp waistcoat, he turned and held out his arms. “Come here, Chloe.”
She shifted next to him and his arms came around her, drawing her back against him. He half-reclined against the back of the sofa, legs outstretched in front of him. He moved a little so that he could arrange his coat over her and then settled back against the sofa. His heart beat strong under her ear; his scent was comforting and pleasant, and the feel of his hand on her back made her feel protected and safe. His feet entwined with her colder ones and they, too, soon began to warm. Her eyes drifted shut as a drowsy warmth seeped through her.
She did not even notice when the candle burned its last for she had already drifted off to sleep.
—
“Brandt!”
His eyes jerked opened. At the same time he realised his cousin was standing over him.
And Chloe was nestled in his arms.
He bit back a curse just as Chloe stirred. She opened her eyes, her face filled with confusion. And then she blanched. “Oh, no,” she whispered. She tried to push away from him.
He tightened his arm around her and rose to a sitting position with her still cradled against him. “It is all right, sweetheart,” he said softly. He looked up at Justin. “What took you so long to find us?”
“We were rather confused about your whereabouts. There seemed to be a number of missing persons including yourselves.” Justin’s gaze fell on Chloe. “Are you all right?” he asked quietly.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“She needs a change of clothing, a warm bath, and a decent bed.”
Justin’s gaze raked over him. “You look as if you need the same. Where were you?”
“In the tunnels. I would prefer to leave the explanations until later.” He rose and gently set her on her feet. “I am going to carry you to my bedchamber. It is the only one that is truly habitable.”
“I can walk.”
“Your feet are bare.”
“So are yours.”
At least she was showing some spirit. “Yes, but yours are cut up again. And this is my house.” He swept her into his arms before she could protest and strode with her towards the door.
Justin followed. “I will at least inform Belle that she is safe. We spent the night here.”
“Please put me down,” Chloe said in a low voice.
“Hush.”
“I am not very light.”
“You are not very heavy.”
“But…”
“Don’t argue with me.”
Surprise flashed briefly in her eyes, but she said no more as Brandt carried her into the hall. He nearly cursed when he entered the main part of the house and nearly slammed into his aunt, Lady Ralston and Belle. He did curse when he saw the Earl of Ralston behind them.
Lady Ralston let out a little shriek and dashed forward. “My poor child! What have you done to her?”
“He has done nothing, Mama,” Chloe said.
“But your feet are bare and your gown is ruined!” She turned accusing eyes on Brandt. “How could you?”
Belle took her arm. “Maria, I think it best to wait and hear what has happened.”
“Which can wait until Chloe has been attended to.” Justin had come up behind them.
“So if you will pardon me.” Brandt pushed past the assembled group.
Ralston’s face was black. “I trust you have a rational explanation for this, Salcombe.”
“I’ve no idea.”
He thought he would be relieved to finally set her gently on his bed, but the sight of her lovely face against his pillows nearly sent him mad. The ache that had consumed him most of the night with the feel of her soft, light body snuggled into his suddenly burst into full, flaming desire. If it weren’t for the fact that Belle and Maria had trailed him upstairs he would have lain beside her and pulled her back into his arms.
He moved away. “I will send Mrs Cromby to you.” His voice was more curt than he had intended.
Chloe sat up, her face worried. “But do you not need a change of clothing? And something warm to drink? I fear you are about to catch a chill.”
“I assure you I am not.” Her concern was unnerving. “I will see you later.” He stalked out and then realised his clothing was in the small room off of his bedchamber. He found Henry, the Crombys’ son who had been serving as his valet, and sent him to retrieve a set of clothing and stockings and boots. He pulled them on in one of the empty bedchambers and was about to set off to find Justin when his cousin entered the room. He carried two glasses of brandy and shut the door with his foot. “Thought it best to corner you here before Ralston tracks you down.” He handed Brandt one of the glasses. “You look as if you need this.”
“A decanter would be better. Where did you find it?”
“Mrs Cromby. An exceedingly competent housekeeper. I trust you plan to keep her on.”
“With an increase in wages.” He took a sip of the brandy. He’d probably regret it on an empty stomach, but right now it was what he needed. “How did you come to unlock the library?”
Justin eyed him. “A short time before that I received a rather mysterious, anonymous note suggesting that we look for you and Lady Chloe in the old library. It also suggested the key might be found in a potted plant.”
Brandt set his glass down on the table nearby. “There seems to have been an excess of mysterious, anonymous notes circulating last night. Both Chloe and Kentworth received such notes as well. Except it turned out Lady Kentworth was undoubtedly behind those. Chloe’s was to arrange an assignation with me in the old master suite and Kentworth’s was from Miss Coltrane for the same purpose.”
“So Chloe and Kentworth ended up together?”
“Not only that, but locked in together,” Brandt said.
“Very odd. For when that particular door was forced open at Lady Kentworth’s insistence,
Kentworth and Miss Coltrane were together. In another rather compromising situation. There will be a wedding shortly.”
“So that was what Miss Coltrane was up to.” Brandt’s mouth curved in momentary amusement.
“You do not seem overly surprised. I suppose you know how Miss Coltrane came to be there instead of Chloe.”
“I did not have the time to gather all the facts from Miss Coltrane when I found her in the bedchamber with Sir Preston. She suspected Lady Kentworth might do something to interfere with last night’s announcement so she kept an eye on Chloe. After Chloe was handed the note, Miss Coltrane feared something was wrong. She followed Chloe to the old wing where she saw Lady Kentworth close the door and then lock it. I can only surmise she must have stolen the key Mrs Cromby kept in the kitchen. Miss Coltrane asked for pen and paper and then wrote me a note informing me she planned to enter the room through the library passage, and that she would send Chloe to the library.”
“That did not happen?”
His mouth tightened. “No. Unfortunately, I did not get Miss Coltrane’s note until some time after she wrote it. Chloe is afraid of tight, dark places. I did not expect her to even want to enter the tunnels, but when I arrived at the bedchamber she was gone. I feared she had become disorientated and had gone the wrong way.” He looked at his cousin. “She had. She was nearly at the sea caves. By the time I caught up with her she had started back, but she had lost her candle. She was shaking and terrified.” His blood still ran cold at the memory of her stricken, pale face. “We managed to get back to the library, but when I tried the door, I found it was locked. The doors in this place should be used in a fortress. No one heard our shouts and we finally sat down to wait. Except it was damnably cold, her gown was wet and her shoes ruined. The only way I could keep her warm enough was to lay down with her.” He gave a short laugh. “That was all that happened, I swear.”
“You do not need to defend yourself to me.” He looked steadily at Brandt. “However, Ralston is another matter.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.”
“He insists that you and Chloe marry by special licence as soon as possible.”
Brandt stilled. “Does he? For once he and I are in accord. However, I suspect Chloe will prove less amenable.”
“To what will I prove less amenable?”
They both turned to see Chloe standing in the doorway. She was clothed in a plain, woollen dress that was far too big for her and no doubt belonged to Mrs Cromby. Her hair was caught in a ribbon and hung down her back. Her face was clean but still pale.
Brandt strode to the door. “What are you doing out of bed?” he demanded roughly.
“I need to speak with you.”
“Where is Belle?”
“With Mama, who is having hysterics. Arthur has convinced her I am now completely ruined. And that we should marry as soon as possible. I told her I would not and she became overset.” She spoke with a sort of calm detachment, but from the way she knotted her hands together he knew she was far from calm.
“The devil take him,” he said softly. More than ever he would enjoy mowing Ralston down, this time for oversetting Chloe and Lady Ralston before anything was decided.
Her eyes were huge in her face. “I thought you should know before he accuses you of…of ruining me. I tried to tell him that nothing had happened and he was ridiculous but he would not listen.” She took a deep breath. “And I told him I would not marry you under such circumstances.”
“You’ve little choice,” he said flatly. “We’ve little choice. The circumstances in which we were discovered were damning to say the least.”
“But you did nothing, and it was not your fault or mine that the door was locked.”
Justin had come up beside them. “Brandt is right, you have no alternative. Most of the countryside knows you were missing. We came up with some story about lingering effects from the excursion a few days ago and Brandt’s desire to see to you, but I doubt few believed the story. Most certainly Lady Kentworth did not, since she knew perfectly well why you were gone. I’ve no doubt she will not let this ride.”
“But…”
“It is not only your reputation that will suffer—it is Brandt’s as well. I do not think you would want him to be accused of seducing you and then abandoning you.”
“No, I would not, but…” She had a hopeless, trapped look on her face that tore at Brandt.
“He will be good to you.” Justin touched her cheek and then looked at Brandt. “I will let you sort this matter out between yourselves, then I suggest you leave for London as soon as possible.” He quietly left the room.
Chloe’s face was pale, the only colour the sprinkling of freckles across her nose. Brandt wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her but he had no idea what she would do.
“Come in for a moment,” he said.
She hesitated and then stepped inside. He shut the door behind her, not wanting them to be interrupted. She jumped as his hand brushed her arm.
Brandt moved away from her. “There is no need to look so terrified. It won’t be so bad.”
“What won’t be?”
“Marriage to me. I will not beat you or lock you up or keep you closeted at Waverly for the rest of your life. You can come and go as you please, you will be able to visit Belle as often as you want and your family. You will have your own money—I have no need of it. I will not interfere with you.”
He hoped his words would bring some sort of relief to her face but instead she looked even more wretched. “You are very kind.”
“Hardly.” He folded his arms. “There is one more thing. I will not touch you until you wish me to.”
Colour flooded her cheeks. “I see.” She looked away for a moment, then back at him. “This cannot be the sort of marriage you want.”
“Or the marriage you want.” Not when she looked as if she was about to be tortured. He shrugged, not about to let her know he cared. “If I recall, neither one of us wanted a marriage of passion.”
She looked stricken. “Yes. But I…” Her voice trailed away.
“I will inform your cousin that we will marry as soon as I procure the special licence.”
“Very well.” She did not quite look at him.
“I will leave today.”
This time she did look up. “Should you? I have no doubt you are very tired. Perhaps it would be best to wait.”
“So that we might delay the wedding further? I think not,” he said coldly.
She turned away, but not before he saw the swift hurt in her face. “I had better return to Belle and Mama.” She looked up briefly. “I wish you a safe journey,” she said before she left the room.
He stared after her, suddenly weary.
Chapter Eleven
Chloe watched the rain pour down in front of the library window at Falconcliff. It had been like this for the past five days ever since Brandt had left for London. Most of the time she liked watching the rain; liked watching the wildness of the sea beating against the rocks while she sat safe and snug in the warm library. But she had felt none of that safeness this time.
Instead she felt restless and waiting. Waiting for Brandt to return.
How had everything become so complicated? Not that her relations with Brandt had ever been simple, but she had never expected their lives to become more and more inextricably intertwined, almost as if fate had decreed it so.
Soon they would be joined together in the most holy and inseparable of bonds until death made its claim.
She rose, too agitated to sit. He was to return today, but she had no idea if the weather would prevent him. She both longed for and dreaded his return. She had not seen him after that last distressing conversation in which they had suddenly become strangers again. Nothing she had said had turned out right. She had been so distressed at Arthur’s accusations that she had fled directly to Brandt. She had meant to warn him, but it had been too late. When he had said that neither one of them had wanted a marriag
e of passion she had wanted to tell him he was wrong, that she had changed her mind, but somehow, under his cold remote exterior, the words would not come.
She had no idea if the opportunity was now lost for ever.
She shivered, suddenly needing to find Belle and Julian and escape her thoughts. She left the library and came into the hall just as the butler opened the door. “Lord Salcombe,” he said, his voice surprised.
She stopped and her heart began to pound as a tall, cloaked figure stepped into the hall. He started to speak and was suddenly overcome by a fit of coughing. He straightened and then swayed. The butler grabbed his arm to steady him. “My lord! You are not well!”
Chloe ran to his side. “Brandt, what is it?”
He looked down at her. Beneath the dripping brim of his hat, his face was drawn and pale. “I have the licence,” he said and then promptly collapsed at their feet. Only the fact that Eliot still held his arm as he went down kept him from dashing his head against the floor.
Chloe fell to her knees, fear gripping her. He was breathing, but when she touched his forehead her hand nearly burned.
He groaned a little and she looked quickly up at Eliot. “You must find Justin or Belle. He needs a bed and a physician.”
“Yes.” He turned. “Stephens! Find the Duke and tell him Lord Salcombe has taken ill. And send Timmons to help me carry him to bed.”
She hadn’t noticed the footman who now scrambled away. She laid her hand on Brandt’s burning forehead. “Can you hear me?”
He turned his head and opened his eyes. “Chloe? Or are you an angel?”
“Certainly not.” Did he think he was dying? “We are sending for Justin and a physician. And someone to help you to bed.”
“Not necessary. Apologies for fainting on you. Must get up.” He started to push himself up with his arms.
“No! Just wait for help.”
The Viscount's Bride Page 20