“What madness are you talking about, Lord Luhaunt?” Still trying to shield herself with the skirt, she fumbled with her white silk shirt, trying to right it enough to get her head and arms into it. “Just because I am a spinster does not mean I am available for…for…” Her face turned red. “For your amusement.”
“I am talking about marrying you, Brianna.”
“Do not call me Brianna. You do not even know me, and whatever bedlam you have rolling around in your brain, I want no part of it.”
Her fingers frantic, the shirt dropped, landing in the water. “Blast it. No part of it. Do you hear me? None.”
She bent, snatching up her soaked shirt and half dropping her skirt with the motion. It slipped, dragging her shift down and exposing her very plump right breast to the open air.
Sebastian couldn’t help an appreciative smile.
She growled, trying to right herself, only to slip on the rocks and fall, flailing, toward Sebastian.
He happily caught her.
“Brianna. What in the blazes are you doing?” A woman’s voice cut into the air from above.
Holding Brianna in his arms, Sebastian looked up over his shoulder only to find the duchess standing at the crest of the bank.
Three more heads popped into view behind her. Lily, Lord Newdale, and his mother. The four of them spread out along the grassy bank, staring down at him and Brianna. Every mouth agape.
Fate.
Sebastian had a plan in mind when he came to Notlund, but plans could change. And fate had just granted him one entirely generous short-cut.
He was not one to pass upon what fate offered.
Sebastian quickly propped Brianna to her feet, hoping she was steady, and turned to the small crowd, shielding her from their view.
“Wynne. It seems as if you have stumbled upon a chance encounter.”
“It looks like a hell of a lot more than that, Seb, and you damn well know it.” Wynne’s ire at him was instant. She jabbed her head to the side, trying to see past him. “Brianna, are you all right? Are you hurt?”
Sebastian could feel Brianna trying to scramble into her wet clothes behind him.
“Brianna, answer me. Are you all right?” Wynne’s eyes darted to Sebastian. “So help me if you have laid a finger on her, Seb—”
“I am fine, Wynne.” Brianna stepped from behind Sebastian, still righting her shirt. “It was as Lord Luhaunt said. A chance encounter. I was out for a ride and he happened upon me.”
Wynne’s arms crossed over her chest, eyebrows high to the sky. “He happened upon you naked?”
“Bree…” Lily’s face was ashen, her eyes darting to Lord Newdale’s mother.
The woman did not look pleased. Lady Newdale looked not only shocked, but horrified. Horrified to her very marrow that the sister of her possible daughter-in-law was a trollop. Her judging eyes did not move from Brianna.
Brianna’s face burning red, her head went down and she shoved her feet into her boots and tied them as quickly as her shaking fingers allowed. She scampered down the streamside to her horse, and Sebastian wondered for a moment if she would just mount the mare and run.
She would have every right.
Instead, she fetched her jacket from where it was draped on the saddle. Jerking her arms into the sleeves, she walked back toward Sebastian, her eyes still hidden.
Her obvious humiliation did not sit well with him, especially when he knew full well he was the cause of it.
“What were you doing in the area, Wynne?” Sebastian asked, trying to draw the attention of the crowd above them away from Brianna.
“We were out for a ride,” Wynne said. “I was showing them the estate and I thought I heard Brianna’s voice. And do not try to change the subject, Seb.”
“This particular subject is not one to be discussed right here, right now, Wynne.” Sebastian looked pointedly around them. “No. This extremely serious subject is one to be discussed back at the castle, when we all have level heads about us.”
“Duchess, this will not do,” Lady Newdale said, finding her outraged voice. “This will not do at all.”
With one last death glare at Sebastian, Wynne turned, stepping in front of Lady Newdale. “I agree entirely, Lady Newdale. But it is far too warm out here with nary a breeze. Let us move back to the castle, where we can discuss this at length. I am sure there is a reasonable explanation for all of this.”
Lady Newdale harrumphed. “A reasonable explanation would be quite welcome at this very moment, Duchess.”
Wynne lightly grabbed Lady Newdale’s arm, gently turning her from the stream. “I am sure an explanation is forthcoming. I have never known another to hold propriety in such high regard as does Miss Silverton. But I am dreadfully hot out here, as I am sure you are as well, and this will be best discussed in the privacy of the castle confines. It will be much cooler there.”
With one more judging glance at Brianna, Lady Newdale allowed Wynne to steer her away to her horse. Lord Newdale trailed them, an amused smirk on his face.
Lily remained rooted to her spot, staring at her sister.
When Brianna finally ventured a look upward, Lily shook her head at her, savage disappointment crinkling her eyes.
Brianna’s mouth opened, but Lily spun, stomping away before Brianna could get a word out.
Sebastian watched Brianna’s face crumple, watched the terror flash through her eyes at her sister’s reaction.
For a moment, he regretted the pain it obviously caused her.
But the pain would be short-lived.
He would see to that.
{ Chapter 4 }
Shaking his head, the duke turned from the sideboard in his study, a glass of brandy in each hand—one with a polite amount of liquid, one filled nearly to the brim. He watched his wife exit the room, waiting until she closed the door to exhale a low whistle.
He looked at Sebastian, eyebrow arched. “Was Wynne’s accounting of the scene accurate?”
Leaning against Rowen’s desk, Sebastian shrugged. He had been silent through most of Wynne’s tirade. “Yes. For the most part.”
“All parts?”
“All the important parts.”
Rowen walked across the study, handing Sebastian the nearly full glass of brandy. Good friend. Sebastian drained the top third of the glass.
“I have never seen Wynne that mad—at anyone aside from me, that is,” Rowen said.
“It was extreme.”
“She is worried about the sisters. She adores them and wants them to be happy. As do I.”
“As do I, Rowe.”
“Do you?” Rowen raised his glass, taking a sip and eyeing Sebastian over the rim. “You do know how this will go, Seb?”
“Yes.”
“We can devise an alternate way out of this.” Rowen traced the motif cut into the glass in his hands. “It will not be pretty, but it can be done. Your honor will take a beating.”
“I accept what is coming.”
“Truly?” Rowen’s head cocked to the side. “Of all the idiotic moves, my friend. This tops them all. Naked ladies in streams are always to be avoided. Ride on past, Seb. Not that hard to do.”
“It was in this instance.”
“Why?” Rowen took another sip of the brandy.
“I planned this.”
Rowen sputtered, brandy catching in his throat. “You what?”
Sebastian tipped his glass, taking a healthy swallow of the amber liquid. Best to just confess all at this point. “I planned this. Since you pointed out the Silverton sisters at the Thorton ball, I have been planning this. Planning to marry Brianna.”
“What? And you did not think to tell me? Outside of last night, I have never even seen you talk to Brianna. And you think you want to marry her?”
“I do.” Sebastian fingered the rim of his glass patiently. He could see Rowen was having difficulty coming to terms with Sebastian’s words.
“That was why you stayed in London?” Rowen rubbed
his forehead. “That is why you are here? But Brianna? Lily, I would understand, she is beautiful—”
“Brianna is beautiful.”
Rowen tilted his head, thinking. “True. I guess I never thought on the matter as she is so set on being a spinster. But she is so…rigid.”
“She does not bother to show her beauty off. She would prefer everyone to be looking at her sister.”
Rowen frowned at him. “But why? After all these many years, you have done nothing but dance away from the merest thought of marriage. You have been running at breakneck speed from one place to the next for the last seven years. So why her? Why now?” Rowen stopped, clearing his throat, his voice going low. “You should know that Brianna can be…controlling. It is in her nature.”
“I am aware.”
“So why her?”
“You will think me fanciful.”
“Fanciful?” Rowen scoffed a chuckle. “The word has never even been bandied near you, much less been attached to you. I have known you for too long, my friend, to ever think you fanciful.”
Sebastian pushed himself from the desk, standing straight. “Do you recall that time, a bit more than a year ago, when we talked of marriage, talked of women, and I told you I would know her when I saw her—the woman that is meant for me? Just like I do with the horses—I know the best ones when I see them?”
“Yes. I recall.”
“It was merely bravado at the time. Putting off any discussion on the matter.” Sebastian’s words slowed with unyielding disbelief. “But then it happened. Out of nowhere. It happened. When I saw Brianna at that ball in London, even from across the room, I knew it. I knew it instantly, and I almost did not believe it myself. It is why I hovered about for weeks there. I was trying to convince myself it was not true.”
Sebastian shrugged, shaking his head. “But she is it. I want her, Rowe—no doubt in my mind. She is it. She is the one.”
“When were you planning to tell me?”
“Eventually.”
“So you have been scheming this? Scheming to trap her?”
“No. I had planned to woo her properly here at Notlund. I realized quite early that she has erected a fortress around herself like no other. So it would take time. Time that I would not be afforded in a London ballroom—but time I would be afforded here at Notlund.” Sebastian smiled. “But then fate decided to intervene today. And I could not let the opportunity pass by. I had truly only stopped to talk to her, but then Wynne appeared.”
Rowen gave another low whistle and then drained his glass. He shook his head, grabbing Sebastian’s glass from his hand and then drained that one as well.
“Anyone but you, Seb, I would have deposited with a broken jaw onto the front lawn.” Rowen sighed. “But if this is what you want, you know I am not one to ignore fate. You should know, however, that Brianna has become dear to me, and you had best not wreck her. Do remember, a broken jaw can be delivered at any moment.”
“I will remember.”
Rowen’s head tilted to the door. “Shall we enter the fray in the drawing room? Best to get this done as quickly as possible.”
~~~
All that time spent.
She had never once let her sister out of her sight in London.
It had taken the utmost vigilance, keeping Lily’s reputation above reproach. Keeping Lily free from the grasp of any scoundrel. Not letting her fall prey to an unscrupulous snare. Sequestering her from anyone with the slightest notion to besmirch her reputation.
All that time.
All that time and Brianna hadn’t recognized that very thing coming for her. Hadn’t seen the importance of protecting herself with the same vigilance. Hadn’t seen her own reputation as valuable.
Hadn’t understood any of it, until the very moment she saw Lady Newdale’s face by the riverbank.
The judgement. The scorn. The destruction of everything she had worked so hard to give Lily.
Brianna yanked a fresh shift over her head.
Lord Luhaunt. The complete and utter ass. He had set her up. And she had fallen for it.
Want her indeed.
The man wanted nothing more than to ruin her reputation, watch Lily’s suitors beg off, and then ease himself right along a cleared path to Lily. For who else would want the sister of an openly ruined woman? No respectable man, that was obvious.
Not bothering to wait for the maid that she knew would eventually appear to help her, Brianna pulled a mud-brown dress from the wardrobe, slipping into it. The muslin dress had short, capped sleeves, perfect for the hot day—but a high neckline, not so perfect for the hot day.
Damn the hot day.
She was so stupid. Idiotic not to see this coming. Not to see the plotting of the earl. He had said he had a strategy here at Notlund, and she had taken his words far too lightly. She wouldn’t be surprised if the man had invited the group to that very spot to catch them.
What had she been thinking, going for a blasted dip in the river? Nearly naked for all the world to see. All she had wanted was to not have to think for one moment. One blasted moment of reprieve. One moment in the water. A moment in the middle of everything speeding around her so her mind could sit still. One moment when she wasn’t worried about absolutely everything.
“So very easy to fool, you little wench—your simple brain is not large enough to think beyond what is in the mirror.”
Fingers tightening around her slippers, Brianna’s eyes shut tight, forcing sneered words from long ago gone—banishing them as they ruthlessly tried to take over her mind.
She sank to her bed, her body gone to jelly. Long seconds passed before she could lift her feet high enough to slide on her slippers.
If only her father were still alive. If only he hadn’t counted on her finishing what he had started. If only she could tell Lily the truth. If only she could take back what she had done to her sister.
If only.
Her sudden tornado of wallowing complete, Brianna took a deep breath and gave herself a slight shake, popping to her feet and straightening her spine.
All of those “if onlys” were not possible, so she needed to not dwell.
She needed to harden.
She needed to go down to the drawing room and devise a way for her reputation to not be so fully shattered that Lily lost all three of her suitors. And the longer Brianna stayed hiding away in her room, the guiltier she looked.
She went over to the mirror, quickly pulling her hair into a tight knot. Adjusting the lace that curved up her neck, she sighed. She had chosen the dourest dress she owned, and she hoped she looked enough the unmarriageable spinster that no one could question her innocence in the scene by the stream.
Her slippers soft on the stone floor, she silently made her way through the ancient castle’s halls. Approaching the Celeste drawing room, she slowed. She could already hear the awkward murmurs from within.
A deep breath, and she turned the corner, walking into the elegant room.
Wynne was cloistered with Lady Newdale on the settee, and Brianna could see she was trying to placate the woman as best she could. Lily, still in her prettiest mauve riding habit, stood next to the duke and Lord Newdale by the fireplace.
Lily’s eyes kept jumping nervously from Lord Newdale to his mother. Lord Newdale wouldn’t be the problem—Brianna had already seen that by the stream. Newdale found the situation amusing, nothing more dire than a discreet summer dalliance near the water.
His mother was a completely different matter, and in all the information Brianna had gathered about their family, Lady Newdale ruled her clan with a harsh fist. She was the one that would allow or break any sort of relationship between Lily and Lord Newdale.
Brianna could not blame Lady Newdale for her harsh judgement. The woman had two other daughters she needed to marry off. And if she had any chance of that, she needed a proper match for her son. Not one attached to scandal.
And then there was the last person in the room—the one Brianna had pu
rposefully avoided looking at. Her eyes flashed to Lord Luhaunt. He was opposite her, standing by himself near the wide windows that looked out over the newly planted gardens on the east side of the castle.
He was the only one that had noticed her enter the room, and the side of his mouth lifted when her eyes met his. Not a smirk. More of a comforting, everything-will-be-fine half smile. Even apologetic.
She almost believed it.
The man had a strategy, she had to remember. He most certainly was not an ally.
Brianna gave a small cough. Instant silence fell upon the room, all eyes landing on her.
Her throat went dry. How did one even begin a discussion such as this? How to explain the innocence of what was seen?
“Brianna, thank you for your haste in joining us.” The duke stepped forward, saving her from bumbling words. “I understand there was an incident by the eastern stream?”
Brianna nodded. She was not about to hide from the truth. “It is true. I had stopped—”
“I would not call it an ‘incident,’ your grace.” Lady Newdale pushed herself between Brianna and the duke. “Indecent is a much more appropriate term for what we witnessed. Your charge, naked with this man.” Her forefinger flew out at Lord Luhaunt.
“Come now, Lady Newdale, we must not rush to conclusions,” the duke said. “Your accusations skirt a fine line upon destroying both Miss Silverton and Lord Luhaunt’s honor.”
“Do not patronize me, your grace. I am far too old for that nonsense.” Lady Newdale’s fists went to her hips. “I know very well what I saw, your grace. We all know what we saw. It cannot be overlooked. I cannot allow my son to be involved with your charge, if this is the type of nonsense you allow. Repercussions must be applied after what we witnessed. And if you will not do so, I will see to it myself—one way or another.”
The duke’s jaw visibly flexed. “Lady Newdale, as you are a guest in my home, I say this as politely as possible…do not dare to threaten my charges.”
Lady Newdale’s jaw clamped shut, her breath seething through flared nostrils.
“This is a matter that is best discussed with the primary parties,” the duke said. “I am sure the resolution will sufficiently assuage your morals, Lady Newdale. To that end, I would appreciate you and your son to take your leave.” His eyes did not leave Lady Newdale. “Lily, please excuse yourself as well.”
Earl of Destiny Page 4
