Andrews Brothers 01 - The Ruse

by Felicia Rogers

  She bit her tongue to keep from asking Letta what she knew. The maid would know everything, of course. She felt betrayed. The understanding that she was not married to Luke but to Chadwick caused her stomach to clench in knots and she felt the urge to throw up.

  “My lady, you look almost green. Should I fetch something for you?”

  Brigitta shook her head. “No, I’ll be all right. I just need to talk to the baron.”

  “Right now I’m afraid he is abed, but I’m sure he will come down to the dining hall by dinner time. Would you like me to come and get you then?”

  “Yes. And will you bring my breakfast in here?”

  “Yes, my lady.” Letta curtseyed and hurried from the room.

  Brigitta found a spot at the window, moved the shutter out of the way, and stared at the village beyond the trees. Suddenly her shoulders shook and her body jerked and she grabbed her head. Everything she’d forgotten flooded back like a tidal wave. Pain from Manny’s rough treatment, Chadwick’s wooing, the wedding with Rector Morgan, meeting Luke, spending time with Luke at the summer house, each and every moment of her life blazed across her mind and she fell to the ground and cradled her head. Stunned by the horrifying events of the last few weeks, she couldn’t move.

  ****

  Luke woke. Afternoon sunlight filtered into his room and he flung an arm over his eyes to block it. Officers’ voices drifted from outside and Luke groaned. When would they leave?

  He struggled from bed and called for Jarvis. The normal enthusiasm the valet exhibited seemed stilted and Luke wondered if it was lack of time with Letta or the officers that had caused the change.

  “My lord?”

  “Yes, Jarvis. I’m sorry I overslept and left you to entertain our guests. I do wonder when they rest. But alas, I expect they do so in waves.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “Now, help me dress. I must descend and enjoy the afternoon meal in their company.” He paused before asking, “What is the word of Brigitta? Has she risen for the day?”

  Jarvis studied the floor and shuffled his feet. “For some hours, my lord.”

  Luke noted the valet’s tone and manner, and asked, “Is there something I should know?”

  “My lord, forgive me, but I believe it is time to tell Brigitta the truth.”

  Luke cocked a brow. Worry that Jarvis might be right caused his heart to beat louder.

  “I know it is not my place, but Letta is very concerned. It seems Brigitta woke this morning and seemed different. Letta couldn’t rate the change, but she is almost certain your bride has regained her memory.”

  Luke groaned inwardly and ran a hand through his hair.

  “My lord, Brigitta has yet to leave her room. Letta promised to bring her to the table for dinner because she believed you would be in attendance.”

  Luke nodded. “Thank you for your words of advice, Jarvis. Politely tell Letta I will escort my wife to the dining hall myself.”

  Jarvis bowed. “As you wish, my lord.”

  Jarvis left the room. Luke closed his eyes and mumbled a brief word of prayer before stalking into the hallway and toward his wife’s suite. He had some explaining to do.

  Chapter Thirty

  Hours later, the coach stopped for the night at another inn and the passengers climbed out for a much needed rest. The front room was a drinking establishment. Men gathered around the bar while the women hurried upstairs and stowed their belongings.

  Chadwick, traveling alone, followed the women. Baggage arranged in his room, he entered the hallway with the sole purpose of going downstairs and enjoying a bite of supper away from his previous companions.

  A warm hand clasped his forearm. Surprised, he lifted his gaze to peer into the lovely eyes of Lady Margaret. Candles burned at each end of the hallway. The light struck her face and he found himself wondering why he ever considered her a horrible traveling companion. He looked down at her hand and imagined taking it to his lips and kissing it.

  “May I speak with you?”

  He cocked a brow and pointed at his chest.

  “Yes. May I speak with you? In private?”

  He shrugged and blinked rapidly. She glanced around to make sure no one watched before she roughly jerked him into her room and shut the door.

  “I am in dire need of assistance.” She paused and when he didn’t speak she continued. “My escort, Mr. Malcolm, is a terrible gambler.” Chadwick’s heart raced. “Every establishment we’ve visited, he places my coin on the table only to come back with a lighter purse.” She wrapped a strand of hair around her finger and her eyes grew larger. He felt as if he were swimming in their vast depths; only the notion of coin kept him focused. “My father is a strict man with little patience and I fear when he discovers Mr. Malcolm has lost our funds, he will exact punishment from me.”

  Chadwick leaned against the wall and crossed his ankles. “Lady Margaret, forgive me but I don’t see how I can help you in this situation.”

  “Oh, but you can. I’ve made great study of you on this journey and I can tell you are interested in the coin around my companion’s waist.” Chadwick felt heat gather across his neck but he made no indication of agreeing. She continued, “I thought if you would pluck the coin from his person, then he wouldn’t be able to gamble it away. That is, if you would just take it and keep it safe until we continue, then I know my father would be grateful, as would I.”

  Chadwick massaged his forehead. Could this unworldly young woman actually be asking him to steal from her escort? It was too good to be true.

  She twisted her hair again. “I can offer you assistance. I know where he keeps the coin when he is not wearing it beneath his belt. I will create a diversion so you may enter his room and confiscate the bag from him. Tomorrow morning you can place it back in his things and he will believe he misplaced it all along.”

  Chadwick drummed his finger against his temple. “And what happens if he calls the manager and has him search the inn? What if the coin is found in my room or on my person?”

  Lady Margaret gnawed her bottom lip then lifted her finger in the air. “I will convince him he misplaced the money and that I’m sure it will turn up.”

  “And he will believe you?” He forced himself not to roll his eyes at the young lady’s obvious innocence.

  “Of course, implicitly. I can be very convincing when I want to be.”

  Chadwick expressed no doubt of that. “And what is in this for me?”

  “As I said, my father would be extremely grateful.”

  With the promise of coin, Chadwick agreed to hear the rest of her plan.

  “I will keep him busy eating and you will sneak into his room. You should find a trunk there. It is small, so don’t be fooled into thinking it isn’t important. Lift it up and look underneath; rap it with your middle knuckle three times. The latch will release and you will see a bag. Take it, hide it. Then in the morning, during breakfast, reenter his room and return it. Once we reach our destination I will reward you. Simple.”

  Too simple, thought Chadwick. Even knowing something would go wrong, he agreed and left her room. Soon afterward she descended the stairs and engaged Mr. Malcolm in conversation over supper. Entering the man’s room was easy. A box, the size of his two fists placed together, sat next to the bed. Following Lady Margaret’s instructions, he thumped the bottom. The lid popped open and a heavy, jingling canvas bag fell into his open palm.

  ****

  Brigitta moved her chair to the fire and stared at the roaring flames. When the wood diminished and the flames lowered, she threw on another log until they shot upward once more.

  In the red mist, she watched her entire life for the past couple of weeks play out. At the end of the memories, she wondered if women were still executed for bigamy.

  Pacing, she moaned. What was she going to do? Luke had known she was married. She remembered the conversations about staying married to Chadwick and helping the villagers. Why had he pretended to be the baron and t
ricked her into marrying him, perhaps condemning her to death or at the least disgrace? Nothing made sense.

  The fire died again and instead of adding more wood, Brigitta strode from her room, past the footmen guarding her door, and toward the library. Along the hallway branched off the portrait gallery. Each magnificent painting included a plaque with the individual’s name and date of birth.

  Stroking the gilded frames, Brigitta was surprised to reach the current family members. At the end were two almost identical paintings. She gasped. The names read Chadwick Andrews and Luke Andrews, Baron of Stockport.

  How can this be?

  Horrified, she fled to the library. There had to be a book, one that told about the family. Something, anything that explained what she’d just witnessed.

  For frantic hours she drew books off the shelves and perused the contents. But she found no family Bible with lists of marriages and births, nor a book of the peerage. Her gaze grew fuzzy and she rubbed the bridge of her nose. When she didn’t find what she sought, she pulled the bell rope and waited.

  A servant girl unknown to Brigitta skidded to a halt and studied the floor. “My lady?”

  “I have questions.”

  The girl nodded.

  “I want to know the history of the Andrews family.”

  “My lady? I don’t understand.”

  “I want to know all about Luke and Chadwick. Their relationship. Who is the elder and who is the younger? Is there a feud between them? I want to know everything you know about them.”

  “I–I—” The young girl stuttered and looked back at the door as if plotting her escape.

  Frustrated, Brigitta said, “Go. Just get out!”

  The maid skittered from the room, and Brigitta fell into a chair and cradled her head. Why hadn’t she asked more questions when she’d had the chance? Why had she married Chadwick without proof he was the baron?

  She ran her hand through her hair. What was she going to do?

  ****

  The maid ran past him, a wail upon her lips. Instead of stopping her, Luke hurried to the library’s open door. Inside, Brigitta cradled her head in her hands and his heart sank.

  “Brigitta?”

  She lifted her gaze and in her eyes he saw revulsion and anger.

  “How could you!” She rose, threw herself at him, and pummeled his chest.

  He grabbed her hands and held them captive above his heart. She fought until spent, before giving up and laying her head against his chest. She cried. He patted her hair and the racking sobs diminished to only tears. His heart felt like it twisted. If only he could explain.

  “Brigitta—”

  She pushed backward, swiped her face, and crossed her arms over her chest. “Who are you?”

  He reached for her but she continued to back away and he dropped his arm. “I’m your husband.”

  Shakily, she pointed at him. “You are not my husband. Or maybe you are, I–I don’t know.”

  He opened his mouth, but she continued. “What was your goal? Are you trying to hurt your brother by taking me away from him? Or, or, are you trying to get me killed? If Rector Morgan finds out I married you, too, then he will come for me and I will burn! That man doesn’t like me, he has never liked me. All he needs is one reason to get rid of me. Do you understand? One reason.” She ran at him again and this time he took the punishment. “Why? Why did you do it? Tell me!”

  Luke’s heart broke at her pain. He again opened his mouth to explain. It was past time she knew the truth and he was going to tell her all of it. It should be him. Once everything was out in the open, then they could live happily ever after.

  The door flung open and crashed into the wall with a loud thud.

  Too stunned to move, he froze as red-coated officers converged on them. Roughly, strong arms pulled them apart. They wrapped Brigitta’s hands behind her back and pushed her into the hallway.

  “Wait! What are you doing?” he yelled, fighting to follow, but soldiers restrained him.

  “My lord, I would warn you not to struggle. What we do, we do for your own good,” said the colonel.

  “What are you talking about?” They released him. Desperate, he jerked his coat, twisted between them, and ran for Brigitta. An officer tackled him.

  He lifted his head, spit dirt from his teeth, and groaned as the carriage vanished from view.

  ****

  Brigitta was shoved into the carriage. The vehicle jerked into motion and she peeked through the curtained window as Luke fell to the ground. Tears filled her eyes but she swiped them away, refusing to give Rector Morgan the satisfaction.

  Violent trembling threatened to assail her and she leaned against the leather seat and clenched her fists in her lap. She asked, “What are you doing here?”

  “You know why I’m here.”

  She said, “Actually, I do not.”

  He frowned, appearing worried, but didn’t speak.

  “Where are you taking me?” she asked.

  “Why my dear, I’m taking you to the Assizes to stand trial and be executed.”

  Brigitta’s heartbeat increased. “Executed?”

  “But of course. Surely you did not think you could stand in front of so many and word not reach me. You’ve not only married Chadwick, but now you’ve attempted to marry his half-brother, Luke, the real baron.”

  She swallowed.

  Rector Morgan shook his head. “Dear sweet child, I don’t know what the ghostie did to you. Perhaps the rumors are true and you’ve lost part of your memory. But the truth is that now you are married to two men. And I will not allow the world to know that I was complicit in such an action.”

  ****

  The rest of the harrowing ride, Brigitta remained silent. For an hour, her heart beat so loudly in her ears, she couldn’t hear another word spoken by the rector.

  This couldn’t be happening. What had Luke done to her?

  The carriage hit a rock and she jumped, bumping her head against the side window. Again the carriage jolted, harder this time. The rector pulled the curtain aside and yelled, “What is going on up there?”

  The driver didn’t answer and the rector yelled again. This time he pulled the curtain back farther. When he looked out, he gasped. Brigitta peered past his shoulder. No one sat in the driver’s box. He dropped the curtain and his eyes widened as if they’d pop from his head.

  Brigitta’s heart thumped wildly at his terrified expression.

  The carriage door flung open and a masked man, standing on the carriage step, poked his head inside, rocking so hard with the bouncing he seemed no more than a blur.

  “Get out!” he yelled.

  But the carriage careened along the road at an outlandish speed. Stunted trees and rocky outcroppings flew past as the galloping horses thundered along. “How can we? The carriage is moving too fast,” replied the rector, a look of horror covering his wrinkled brow.

  “I want you out!” the masked desperado shouted.

  The rector scrambled up from his seat and the carriage slammed into a hole. The masked man’s head flew upward, struck the door frame, and he fell backward out of sight.

  Brigitta lifted a side curtain and stared horrified as they careened toward the section of road that ran along the top of a sheer cliff. On one side a rock face protected them, but on the other, the out-of-control carriage faced a deadly drop.

  ****

  Furious, Luke went toe to toe with the colonel, breathing fire into his face. “I do not understand what is happening but I demand my wife be returned to me.”

  The colonel crossed his arms. “While I appreciate the hospitality you’ve afforded us, my lord, the rector informed us Brigitta is not your wife.”

  Luke frowned, leaned even closer, and said, “I don’t care what you’ve heard. I want Brigitta back.”

  “The rector is having her tried for bigamy.”

  “What!”

  “My lord, we are sorry she fooled you, but the fact is the lady has been married
before.”

  “I know that! I know the entire thing. My butler faked her wedding to my half-brother, Chadwick, so they could make money to run the estate.”

  The officer narrowed his eyes.

  “Chadwick used her frequent displays of temper to raise funds. When I realized what was going on, I struggled with what to do. Then I chanced upon an opportunity to speak with Brigitta and I fell in love.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Chadwick left and Roland took off after him. While they were gone, I received a special marriage license from the Archbishop and I planned the wedding with Brigitta. Now she is truly married to the baron.”

  Consternation overwhelmed the colonel’s smug complacency. “Are you saying the first wedding was a fake?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “The rector said she had married more than once.”

  “Other than to myself, Brigitta has never been truly married and I have the papers to prove it.” Luke pulled out the special license and the colonel perused the contents.

  When he finished, he asked, “Did the rector know the man he married her to wasn’t the real baron?”

  “I don’t know. I guess it is possible he didn’t.”

  The colonel strode toward the front door and called out for his men. “We need to stop that carriage!”

  Luke saddled and rode alongside them as they rushed toward the village. They galloped past a herdsman and his son. The colonel asked about the carriage and they pointed the riders in the proper direction.

  “Where could he be taking her?” asked Luke.

  “I guess he could have taken her to London.”

  “That road leads over the mountain and through the pass, which remains impassable because of last week’s rain.”

  The officer gathered his men and instructed some of them to return to the house and wait for word. Others he ordered to wait in the village. The colonel, Luke, and a few officers set off for the pass.

  If the rector had chosen that road, Luke might never see Brigitta again. The thought caused him to kick the horse’s flank and tighten his grip on the reins.