Andrews Brothers 01 - The Ruse

by Felicia Rogers

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Luke paced erratically outside Brigitta’s door. The time to marry had come and gone. The guests had been escorted away and the doctor summoned.

  The physician attended Brigitta now whilst he waited outside, supposedly in a patient manner, but the panic boiling within him put the lie in that phrase.

  Finally the door opened and the doctor stumbled into the hallway. Luke said, “How is she?”

  The doctor whipped his head up and staggered again, as if stunned by the intrusion into his thoughts. “Oh, it is you, my lord.”

  “Yes, I was inquiring as to my w-wife’s condition.”

  “She is fine, my lord.”

  “But she fainted.”

  “Perhaps she saw how handsome you are and swooned, or perhaps,” he cupped his hand over his mouth and whispered, “there is a babe on the way, hmm?”

  Luke drew in a swift breath and widened his eyes. His vision blurred and he grabbed a hallway table. The doctor laughed and patted his arm. “Do not worry. This is normal with first-time fathers. Always a bit of discomfort when finding out you will have a little one dependent upon you.”

  Luke fidgeted with his hands. Urgency in his tone, he said, “You mustn’t spread that around.”

  “Of course not. Besides, there is no evidence to suggest my theory is correct other than the baroness’ odd behavior at the wedding proceedings. Now I must be off. The wife will be expecting me for dinner.”

  Luke ordered Jarvis to escort the doctor out. When he was alone, he closed his eyes, leaned his head back, and rested against the wall. His throat constricted. Was it possible Jarvis hadn’t really known and that Brigitta had lied about the consummation? Could his future bride yet be carrying his brother’s child?

  He swallowed. What would he do if he found out Brigitta did carry Chadwick’s babe? Luke’s heart raced as the answer fell quietly from his lips. “Marry her anyway.”

  Few things could change his feelings for Brigitta. He pushed off the wall and paced. Since the decision was made that he would marry her regardless, he needed to rectify today’s disaster.

  The wedding postponement was an unforeseen complication. He had hoped to legitimately marry Brigitta in front of witnesses while Roland was away, but there might not be time to reschedule the public wedding before the butler returned.

  Luke detested the idea of sharing his union with the entire community, but since his brother had started the ruse, the transparent wedding was the only way he could see of rectifying his situation.

  Why did Brigitta have to faint? The rumor that they expected their first child would no doubt cover the village by nightfall. He groaned.

  The door creaked open and Brigitta peeked around the frame. “Oh,” she said, grabbing her chest, “you startled me.”

  “Brigitta, may I come in?”

  She moved aside and he entered her room. “I’m sorry I ruined the wedding,” she said, her head bowed.

  He ran an agitated hand through his hair, fighting his disappointment over their situation. “I’m sorry, as well.”

  A tear spilled onto her cheek and she rubbed it away. “I have a feeling something important was going to happen and I ruined it, but I’m not exactly sure how or what.”

  “Listen, we don’t need to discuss that right now. What we need to discuss is something entirely different.”

  She fell into a chair and clutched her hands demurely in her lap. “I’m ready.”

  He paced as he said, “You may not be aware, but the doctor has made a serious accusation as to why you swooned.”

  “He has?” she asked, her eyes widening with anxiety.

  Her helpless posture made him want to hold her and offer comfort, but he refrained, instead gulping and saying, “Yes.”

  “Well, what is it?”

  “I don’t know if I should tell you.”

  “You can’t very well open a conversation in such a manner and not plan on revealing what you meant.”

  “I do plan on revealing it. I would just like to do so in my own time.”

  “Let me assure you, my lord, the time is now.”

  He cleared his throat, glad to see the argument had brought renewed color to her cheeks.

  “I perceive you are laughing at me. Is that the case? Are you laughing at me?”

  “My dear Brigitta, I would never laugh at you for any other reason than to show my love.”

  “That makes no sense,” said Brigitta.

  “Perhaps you are right. I should just reveal the rumor which is likely to spread.”

  “I am ready. Go ahead.”

  He sighed. “The doctor believes you are expecting.”

  “Expecting?” she questioned, her brows knitted together. “Expecting what?”

  “Brigitta, please do not act daft. Expecting.” He emphasized the last word in hopes he wouldn’t be asked to explain farther.

  “I am not daft nor do I understand what you are hinting at.”

  He rolled his eyes and blurted, “You’re expecting!”

  She covered her mouth but it was of no use, as her laugher burst forth and spread across the room. The laughter was so fierce she held her stomach and bent at the waist. He exhaled loudly and fell into a chair opposite hers. Heat flushed his cheeks and he struggled to maintain a dignified scowl.

  “I do not see the humor in the situation.”

  “If you do not see the humor in the situation then I feel for you, for this is the funniest situation I do believe I’ve ever been in. Expecting, indeed.”

  She continued to laugh and Luke could not help but smile at her. “Truthfully, we know it is impossible, but the people do not.”

  She knitted her brow. “How is it impossible?”

  “What?”

  “I said, how do we know it is impossible? Are we not married?”

  Luke blinked and clenched his hands. This was an unforeseen side effect of the draught he’d given her. Apparently the memory loss effect had reached farther back in time than he had been led to believe.

  “We are married, yes, but there have been extenuating circumstances which have prevented us from…”

  “From what?” she asked, her look so innocent Luke thought he would groan from embarrassment.

  What was he going to do? He couldn’t explain their circumstances, because the original situation hadn’t involved him. What if he said something and it dredged up a memory, and then she realized she wasn’t married to him at all but rather to Chadwick? He needed to get out of here.

  He leaned over and patted her hands as he stood. “Brigitta, let’s not worry about it for now. I must go and see that the items in the chapel are put away.”

  “Why can we not renew our vows now?”

  “Because our guests have left and it is after noon.”

  “Oh, I see.” She paused and gnawed on her lip.

  He looked away and counted to ten. He must not notice her unspoken question, he mustn’t. Air rushed past his lips as he gave in and asked, “Do you wish to ask me something?”

  “Yes.”

  “Very well, go ahead.”

  “I hope you don’t mind my asking, but why do we do those dreadful tours? Are they absolutely necessary? I would much rather see you without all those strangers invading our privacy.”

  I couldn’t agree more. “I assure you they are a necessary evil, but only for one time more.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Brigitta, I am unable to explain. You must trust me in the matter.”

  “I don’t know if I can. For some reason, I feel as if that is beyond my nature.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked, crossing his fingers behind his back.

  “I believe my natural temperament would normally force me to quarrel with you, but for some reason I’m finding it hard to accomplish this time.”

  “Good. I do not wish to be quarreled with.” He stepped to the door. “I will make sure Letta brings you down for dinner.”

  The door
closed behind him and he released a pent-up breath. Things had indeed become more complicated.

  ****

  Something wasn’t right. The baron had just lied to her. Brigitta had expected him to explain why she couldn’t be with child. She knew why, but he acted as if he didn’t.

  Seeing him standing next to the vicar in his fancy attire reminded her of some past event.

  Vague memories of a rector, the baron, herself, Roland, and a strange servant came to mind. Where was Roland? She hadn’t seen him in days.

  She paced her bedroom and pondered what she knew. Bits and pieces of her memory came to her but nothing about the last few days.

  When standing on the stairwell, her hands clenched upon the banister, she had expected Chadwick, no, the baron, to berate her. She blinked rapidly. Where had that name come from? She knew no one by the name of Chadwick; at least if she did, she didn’t remember him.

  She would need to change before dinner. The white dress she’d worn for the tour, and subsequently swooned in, was now wrinkled.

  Brigitta felt the deafening silence of the room and sent for Letta, who helped her dress in a fresh gown decorated with tiny embroidered flowers.

  Letta escorted her to the dining hall. Two places were set at the head and one side of the long narrow table. Directed to sit at the side, she took her seat and thanked the footman who scooted her chair closer.

  Soon thereafter other footmen arrived and arranged piping hot dishes in silver bowls on the table. Brigitta questioned what they’d brought and they showed her the basted chicken, broiled potatoes, and a dish of asparagus, carrots, and sprouts.

  The door opened and the baron walked into the room. He had changed as well. Now he wore a red coat without tails, a white shirt and cravat, and a fresh pair of trousers draped over a gleaming pair of black half-boots.

  Her heart raced. Confused by the rush of feelings, she lowered her head and tried to hide her reaction.

  Settled in his seat, he flashed her a smile. “I trust you’ve had a quiet afternoon.”

  “Too quiet,” she whispered.

  “What?”

  “I said too quiet.”

  “Oh.” He dipped his head and hid his expression, settling his napkin over his lap.

  “Would it be okay if after dinner I didn’t immediately rush back to my suite? For some reason the entire manor seems unknown to me. I find myself wanting to explore every nook and cranny.”

  “I’ll be glad to take you on a tour.”

  “Thank you.”

  They ate in silence. Occasionally the baron would stare at her from under his long brown lashes and she fought the urge to ask if he knew anyone named Chadwick. She frowned in consternation and studied her pewter plate. She gazed beyond the food. Blurry visions of a familiar face floated before her and she blinked rapidly.

  “Is something wrong with your food?”

  “No.”

  “You’re frowning at it as if it has offended your senses.”

  “Who is Chadwick?” He choked on his wine and she rose and slapped his back. “Are you all right?”

  “Will you excuse me?” he asked.

  Brigitta frowned but moved aside so he could quit the table. Resentment at being kept in the dark had her gripping the back of the chair until her knuckles whitened. Moments passed. She sighed, retook her seat, and finished her dinner alone.

  ****

  The Elis house sported a queue of carriages a mile long outside their drive and Chadwick frowned as he dismounted. He had assumed the meeting arranged between him and Zilla was to be a private affair, obviously incorrectly so.

  He handed his horse off to a groom. The flowers he’d brought had wilted during the ride. So much for impressing Zilla.

  Chadwick straightened his shoulders, approached the door, lifted the knocker, and let it drop. A liveried footman escorted him inside the ballroom, where a line waited in front of Zedekiah and Zilla. Men of all ages and varying status levels bowed to the father and daughter. Zilla curtseyed and they backed away.

  Sweat beaded his brow and ran around his cravat. So far he had avoided direct contact with Lord Zedekiah Elis for fear of being recognized. When the line had advanced and he reached the couple, he bowed and stayed low, hoping Lord Elis didn’t think him insecure or crass, as he offered Zilla the lifeless flowers.

  “Oh, thank you. I assume the arrangement was once beautiful.”

  He rose but kept his gaze averted. “It was.” He paused. He looked under his lashes at Zilla, avoiding Lord Elis. “And what of our walk, Zilla? Are we still to have our private jaunt?”

  Zilla smiled. Excitement danced in her eyes, and she licked her lips. The little pixie would be perfect on the stage. Why, the look of misleading innocence was the most impressive he’d had the pleasure of witnessing.

  She twittered the oriental fan over her youthful, flushed face. “Why, your lordship, your uncommon boldness flatters me. Father told all these young gentlemen they could walk with me, but you are the only one with the audacity to ask for your turn.” She tiptoed and whispered in her father’s ear.

  Zedekiah roved his gaze over Chadwick, lingering on his attire, and Chadwick forced himself not to cock his brow and express his assuredness. He’d acquired a tailor upon arrival in London. Decked in the latest fashion, he wore a black suit with a white shirt, cravat, and waistcoat. His light-colored breeches and black Hessian boots, with frontal tassels, completed the ensemble. It was the finest suit the fraudulent Baron of Stockport could buy.

  “You may take my daughter first.” Lord Elis’ voice dripped with condescension.

  Chadwick ignored Lord Elis’ tone, bowed, and joined the group of single men. They looked at him as if they desired a duel. He grabbed a passing glass and touched the sour wine to his lips, hiding his smile of satisfaction. Thoughts of tastier concoctions raced through his mind. Sherry, directly imported from Spain; port brought from Portugal; or even a slosh of Scottish whiskey, all infinitely better than the swill Lord Elis passed off to his guests. When he became lord at Elis Wold, the refreshment quality would improve tenfold.

  Relaxed by the thought of a wealthy future, Chadwick glanced around the room and noted the other guests in attendance. Twittering females huddled in a corner, waving and giggling, and he lifted his glass in salute, enjoying the brief moment it left his lips.

  “At least the old man was kind enough to invite women for us who have to wait for our turn about the gardens.”

  “I know. Who invites this many men at one time? I believe I will peruse the other ladies in attendance and ignore my walk with Zilla.”

  “I can’t say I blame you. Her money and land are hardly sufficient to make one forget her impersonal nature.”

  “Nor her father’s ill-bred rudeness.”

  Heads nodded.

  Chadwick moved away and waited for the welcoming line to end. A footman passed and he discarded his glass. He crossed his legs at the ankles, tugged on his coat, smoothed his hair, and clicked his tongue in rhythm. He hoped his impatience showed.

  Finally, Zedekiah called him. Envy fleeted across the other male guests’ faces, but he ignored them as he lifted his arm to Zilla and headed for the gardens.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Luke paced the hallway outside the dining area. Agitated, he repeatedly ran his hand through his hair. Every moment seemed to complicate matters more.

  He halted. Brigitta stood in the doorway, staring at him. Candles from the table shone around her like a halo.

  “I’ve been sitting at the table, finishing my dinner alone, and I realized that asking you about that name has no doubt brought about a measure of concern. I assure you I’m fine; it is just that since the day I disappeared, my memory hasn’t been as good as it once was. I did not intend to alarm you with my question.”

  Her serene manner and apology calmed him deep inside and served as a reminder for why he loved her. “You did alarm me, I must admit.”

  “I figured as much. May I
make a suggestion?”

  “Yes, you may,” he said.

  “Perhaps someone in the manse is named Chadwick?”

  He gulped and nodded.

  She placed her hand over her heart. “I’m relieved to know I’m not crazy.” She paused before adding, “As I have finished my dinner I will retire to my room, unless you have another suggestion.”

  The pleading tone had him searching for another place to gather. “Perhaps the library?”

  She clapped, her expression lighting up like a torch. “That would be delightful.”

  They locked arms and he escorted her to the library. He lit candles and called for Jarvis to start a fire while Brigitta pored over the leather-bound books lining the shelves. The valet left and he took a seat beside Brigitta on the sofa as she opened her choice on her lap. He snaked his arm along the back and played with a strand of her hair.

  The crisis had been averted. As long as she believed the name came from a random person in the manse, and didn’t question further, all would be well.

  Coy eyes peered at him sideways, glittering in the firelight. She lifted her lips in a smile. “Hmm, I’m trying to read.”

  “Don’t let me stop you.”

  She laughed. “I’m glad you don’t mind, but I’m having trouble concentrating.”

  “I don’t know whether to be happy I’ve distracted you or sad that you’re not distracted enough to stop reading.”

  She placed the book over her thigh and said, “Is that what you want? My undivided attention?”

  Luke struggled to breathe as her feminine scent wafted around him and her teasing tone caused his heart to race. “Perhaps.”

  She closed the book entirely and set it on the table. Back against the sofa, she folded her hands in her lap. “Then you have it.”

  Now that he had her attention, he was unsure what to do with it. He drummed his fingers on the wooden edge of the sofa back. “Yes, thank you.”

  He gazed into the fire and she said, “You don’t know what to say, do you?”

  He laughed. “I’m afraid not.”

  Her shoulders shook. “Since you don’t know what to say, and I have nothing to say, I will resume my book.”