Andrews Brothers 01 - The Ruse

by Felicia Rogers

  Luke’s heartbeat increased with hope. “Did you say she doesn’t remember what the baron looks like?”

  “Yes, your lordship, that is what she said. Oh, she remembers where she hailed from and her parent’s death, and she knows she married the baron, but she remembers little else.”

  Luke hugged Jarvis. “This is delightful news.”

  Jarvis leaned back and said, “It is, your lordship?”

  “Of course! And now I wish to speak with Roland posthaste.”

  “I believe he has left for the village, which was the only reason I was able to take Brigitta for the walk and question her.”

  “Then you must stop him!” Desperate, he grabbed the valet and shook him.

  “I must?”

  “Yes, you must! Hurry after him. Tell him there is an emergency. Tell him I’m ill. Tell him the estate is on fire. I don’t care, just get him back here. I must speak with him. And no matter what else happens, Chadwick is not to return to the estate, do you understand?”

  “Yes, I believe so.”

  Luke released the valet and straightened his own cravat. “Good. Now be about it.”

  Jarvis raced out and Luke summoned Manny. The footman entered and stared at his feet.

  “Yes, your lordship?”

  “Manny, has anyone questioned you about the night of the ball?”

  “No, my lord.”

  “Good. Now I need another favor.”

  “You need only ask.”

  ****

  Arriving precisely on time, Chadwick sauntered in with the well-dressed crowd. Just the day before, Lady Vonda had offered to spot Chadwick the coin to join the Faro game within the confines of her secret gaming establishment, but with uncommon restraint he had resisted. The news of Zilla Elis and her fortune spurred him to find a horse posthaste. The impassibility of the summer estate’s road, and the fact that Zilla Elis remained unattached, had caused his impromptu change of venue.

  He had arrived the next day and shored up with friends. Without hesitation they offered him room and board for as long as needed. Word reached him of a party at the Elis house, and his friends had finagled an invitation.

  Chadwick grabbed a glass of sherry from a passing tray. Lord Zedekiah Elis introduced his daughter and Zilla proceeded to mingle. Several men vied for her attention and Chadwick hid in the background as conversation, champagne, and dancing flowed around him.

  Her gaze caught him and she narrowed her eyes to tiny slits. Moving forward as if gliding, she stopped in front of him and struck him lightly across the chest with her folded fan.

  “My lord, you have returned. I did wonder where you had gotten yourself off to. London has been a complete bore since you left.”

  The shadows caused his face to resemble his brother more so than normal. Stepping into the light, he expected her to scoff or recoil, but instead she grabbed his hand and introduced him about the room as the Baron of Stockport.

  Delighted, Chadwick accepted the praise and well-wishes. Dances from fine ladies were offered and he heartily accepted. When the night ended, he had secured several invitations to future Mayfair events and his future looked exceedingly bright.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Roland entered the dining hall. Shock registered on his face. From his seat at the head of the table, Luke motioned him forward.

  Hesitantly, Roland took the offered seat and studied the full buffet against the wall. Succulent roasted chicken, savory sautéed vegetables, and a pastry sent tantalizing aromas throughout the room. A footman placed bowls of soup before them.

  Luke ignored the first course and sipped his port. A look of obvious satisfaction floated across his butler’s face. It seemed the perfect time to trap him in his words and deeds.

  Luke placed his glass down and said, “Eat.”

  Roland lifted his spoon and murmured pleasurably when the soup hit his tongue. Luke motioned a footman forward and accepted the main course. While Roland’s mouth was otherwise engaged, Luke blurted, “We need to talk.”

  Roland nodded, his lips still smacking and creating sounds of satisfaction.

  “Feel free to eat whilst I speak.” Roland complied and Luke sliced his chicken as he said, “It has come to my attention that in my absence, you concocted a plan whereby Chadwick pretended to be me.”

  Roland choked. Luke waited. The butler’s color returned to normal and Luke chewed a bite of chicken, the savory flavor assaulting his palate. He swallowed and wagged his fork at the butler. “I must admit, at first I was shocked you enacted such a ruse. Then I discovered the deceit went even further. Not only did Chadwick pretend to be me but he also pretended to take a wife.”

  Roland spit his drink across the room and opened his mouth. Luke fought his grin, raised his hand, and shushed Roland before he began. “I know what you are going to say. You will excuse your behavior under the guise of protecting the estate. Or perhaps you did it because Chadwick ordered you.” He waited for an explanation but Roland only stared at his bowl. Luke took a swig of his port and continued. “While I don’t pretend to understand your reasons for enacting this plot, the fact remains that it was enacted. And since it has been set in motion, I wish for it to continue.”

  “Your lordship?” asked Roland, pushing the bowl away and standing to his feet.

  “Do sit down, Roland.” The butler complied and Luke snapped his fingers. A footman rushed in and brought another dish to the table. Luke filled his plate with vegetables. He took a bite and sighed with contentment. Sweat appeared on Roland’s forehead and Luke covered his mouth with his napkin to keep from laughing.

  After chewing and letting the butler stew, Luke said, “I find I enjoy the anonymity. I am able to visit the village, go to town, or attend various events without being hampered by insulting my title.”

  Roland looked bewildered. He ran his finger around his collar and cleared his throat. “So you wish for the ruse to continue? For Mr. Andrews to remain as the acting baron?”

  Luke fought his internal excitement as his plan was set into action. “Yes.”

  Roland lowered his head and played with his napkin. He didn’t speak and Luke tried to be patient. He leaned back in his chair and took another bite of chicken. Roland must have felt like his goose was cooked. The whole thing was positively delightful.

  Another footman entered and bowed. Quickly shifting his gaze from Luke, he said, “Roland, I must speak with you.”

  Luke waved him away. “You may go. We can finish our conversation later.”

  Roland abandoned his unfinished supper, placed his napkin on the table, and left the dining hall. Discreetly, Luke followed, stopped at the door, and placed his ear to the wood.

  “What is it? Can you not see I’m dining with the baron?”

  “Yes, sir, but word has come from the village.”

  “About Mr. Andrews?”

  “Yes, sir. I fear he has left.”

  “What!” asked Roland with a hoarse whisper.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but he was last seen on the road to the summer estate and is now believed to be in London.”

  Luke bristled. London, what is Chadwick doing there?

  “His horse and curricle were found and taken to a stop along the mail route. I understand it is in need of repair and we won’t be able to fetch it for some time.”

  Roland groaned. “What will I do? How could he leave me with this mess?”

  Casually, Luke returned to the table and finished his dinner. The port tasted bitter on his tongue, and he set it aside and steepled his hands in deep thought. What was his brother up to now?

  ****

  “Remind us again, my lord, when did you become such a card player? The last time you were in London, I remember you distinctly preaching against the act.”

  Chadwick laughed and inwardly despaired over the cards in his hand. “Time changes things.”

  How was it possible that everyone in town still took him for Luke? Why, they were completely different! He was i
nfinitely more handsome and charming than his brother.

  Perhaps in the low lighting of the gambling house, it was possible to be mistaken for another, but at any other time?

  He gnawed on the inside of his cheek. The dive was dark, and gloomy with stuffy old furniture and frowning portraits of elderly gentlemen, not unlike those he sat across from now. Fighting a grin, he studied his cards.

  “So you went home and changed your mind?”

  “Precisely,” said Chadwick, hoping the subject of his changed behavior would drop.

  The game progressed, and the coins he had acquired from previous games during the week dropped onto the table and disappeared.

  “Perhaps you should go back to your previous convictions,” a gentleman said as he drew the pile of coins into his purse.

  Inwardly, Chadwick groaned, all the while keeping his smile in place. When would he ever learn? He stood, ran his hand through his already disheveled hair, and paced the card room.

  “Are you ready for another game, my lord?”

  He stretched his hands above his head. “Count me out. I think I will retire early.”

  “Have a big day tomorrow, do you? Rumor is Zilla Elis has agreed to walk with you.”

  Chadwick smiled. “Indeed, she has.” He tipped an imaginary hat. “Good evening, gentlemen.”

  Chadwick placed his hat on his head, grabbed his greatcoat, and left the establishment. The room he’d acquired with friends was just around the block. By the time he arrived, the lights were cut. He entered quietly, climbed the stairs, and found his bedroom. Sparsely decorated, the room was comfortable and clean. Not that it mattered since he spent so little time there.

  On the bed he lay back and studied the shadows and light that danced on the ceiling. Was he making another mistake by continuing to play the baron? If word reached London he was married and Zilla realized it, he could be hauled to the gaol or worse.

  He rolled onto his side and climbed from the bed. Grabbing a quill and paper, he penned a letter to Roland. His butler would know what to do.

  ****

  “Are you sure?” asked Brigitta, as she sat in her bedroom before her dressing table and studied her reflection.

  Letta’s reflection bobbed her head. “Yes, my lady. The tours of the estate have resumed and you are ordered to appear.”

  “Oh, dear, what shall I wear? I have vague memories that this gets me in trouble. That and my temper.”

  “Oh, my lady, you look beautiful no matter what you wear.”

  “You may think so but the baron does not. Trust me, he has made it apparent that I cannot satisfy him.”

  “Did you remember something, my lady?” asked Letta, drawing her brows together.

  “No, I–I don’t remember, I just, I can’t explain it.” Brigitta sighed. “Please just forget I said anything and help me stuff this lace.”

  ****

  “Are you sure about this, my lord?” asked Jarvis as he helped Luke shrug into his coat.

  “Yes, I am. Roland is gone to town and the tourists have come to visit. We must not keep them waiting.”

  “But, my lord, some of them may have seen Mr. Andrews and—”

  “You must calm down. By your own admission, Chadwick favors me. That was why no one questioned his appearance. No one will notice the difference now.” His heart beat rapidly and his palms sweated. What had he been thinking to play this part?

  “They will if they notice you being nice to the baroness,” muttered Jarvis.

  Luke raised a brow.

  Jarvis fussed over the cravat at Luke’s neck. The door opened and Manny stepped inside. “My lord, it is time.”

  Luke nodded, popped his neck, rolled his shoulders, and stepped into the hallway.

  ****

  Brigitta pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders and halted on the top stair. Below, a group of strangers gathered around the landing in the foyer, staring up at her. Goose bumps rose on her arms and a shiver raced up her spine.

  Letta had explained most of the visitors came not to view the grounds but rather to see a show. What kind of show Brigitta didn’t know, because no matter how much she’d threatened, the maid had refused to elaborate.

  Voices drifted upward and Brigitta struggled to make sense of them, but it made no more sense to her than wind ruffling leaves. Giving up, she took the first step onto the stairs and recoiled when men and women pointed and jeered.

  “There she is! The one that disappeared for days.”

  “I believe she was with another man, I do.”

  “Well, I believe the baron was with another woman.”

  They all laughed heartily at her expense and she found herself stopping halfway down the stairs. Before she could regain her equilibrium, the crowd’s jeers changed. The people pointed and she turned to the man descending the opposite stairs.

  The black jacket fit snugly at his waist. A white cravat draped at his neck and his brown trousers hugged his calves. His brown hair was perfectly combed and Brigitta found she couldn’t stop staring at his bronze-colored eyes. There seemed to be a hidden message there that she couldn’t decipher.

  The corners of his eyes and lips tilted. Brigitta’s heart raced and her face flushed with heat. The words from the obnoxious crowd were momentarily forgotten as she lost herself in his gaze. If she looked long enough, she could almost imagine affection there.

  “Oh, look at them. They are behaving like a young couple in love,” called a woman from the crowd.

  “But we came to see the quarreling. I want to see the fighting or I shall demand a refund,” came another guest’s voice.

  Confused, Brigitta noted the baron’s face fill with annoyance. He reached the landing and offered his hand for her to join him.

  When she didn’t move, he lowered his hand, cleared his throat, and said, “Welcome to Stockport estate. It is my esteemed pleasure to invite you to tour the grounds, enjoy our hospitality by eating dinner in the dining hall, and of course speak with the baroness and myself.”

  Several in the crowd crossed their arms over their chests and frowned with defiance. Brigitta still didn’t move.

  The baron continued, “If any of you have come to see a spectacle, then a spectacle you shall see, for today the baroness and I will renew our wedding vows and you will be our witnesses.”

  The crowd gasped and Brigitta clasped the railing so hard her knuckles whitened.

  ****

  Roland’s disappearance from the estate couldn’t have gone better had Luke designed it himself. As soon as he’d discovered Chadwick was missing, the butler had saddled a horse and rushed away. The letter Roland had sent to Luke announced the length of his absence, and it was just the amount of time Luke needed to plan the marriage and complete all the necessary preparations.

  The tours had been reinstated and now here they were. Brigitta wore a white gown. The lace fichu had pulled out, leaving him a lovely view of her endowments.

  Her long auburn hair lay in curls about her shoulders. Freckles dotted her pert nose and her lips shone with rosy loveliness. The summer house and the walk around the lake had been good for her, leaving her cheeks a nice shade of pink. Every feature only endeared her to him more. Momentarily lost in her beauty, he could think of nothing but brushing his lips across hers.

  The crowd’s whispers broke his concentration.

  He’d announced their vow renewal and lifted his hand to his bride once again. She still didn’t move. Would he be forced to bound up the stairs and drag her into position? It wouldn’t be his finest moment, but he would do it if necessary.

  Letta appeared behind Brigitta and nudged her forward. Startled, Brigitta grabbed the banister, steadied herself, then slowly eased into motion. Soon she was standing beside him. He smiled at her and lifted their entwined hands to the crowd.

  “We shall depart and meet you in the chapel beside the garden in precisely half an hour. All those who are late will miss the wedding of the century.”

  Lu
ke dragged Brigitta up his set of stairs and waited at the top, hidden in the shadows, until the crowd had departed.

  “I hope you don’t mind that I made the announcement without consulting you.” The lie tasted bitter on his lips but he didn’t retract it.

  “Nay, I do not mind,” she said shyly.

  “We must away to the chapel. The vicar awaits us there.”

  “But do we not have half an hour?”

  “Aye, we do. But I prefer to arrive early and give you time to study the area and assure it is to your liking.”

  “Of course, my lord.”

  Words could not express the delight that tingled through him when she acquiesced to his desires without even a hint of dissent. Hand in hand they descended the stairs and walked the garden path, stopping at the chapel’s open door. Pews arrayed in two rows filled the small room. Potted flowers peeked from various nooks. At the forefront of the chapel two stained glass windows, with designs of Christ as babe and man, allowed light to cascade over the altar. Along the left and right, windows were separated by shields decorated with the Stockport coat of arms.

  Luke drew Brigitta aside. “Stay here until the guests have entered. Jarvis will stay with you and escort you inside.”

  She nodded, and he smiled for her and walked into the nave. In the aisle he paused and spoke with Jarvis. “Do not let her out of your sight.”

  “Yes, my lord.” Jarvis fairly skipped to her side.

  Luke stopped beside the vicar. The visitors slowly filtered in and Luke adjusted his coat. This was not the wedding he had planned for himself. His parents would have been appalled to find he’d tricked a woman into becoming his wife.

  The sound of birds tweeting echoed in the small glen outside the chapel, like mocking laugher, and Luke ignored them and drew in long deep breaths in an attempt to control his frazzled nerves. Jarvis opened the door and Brigitta stepped into the nave.

  The baroness, as of yet in name only, visibly trembled and Jarvis patted her arm and whispered something in her ear. She shook her head. Then without warning her face paled and Luke stared in abject horror as his wife-to-be collapsed in the aisle.