Desire n-3

by Nicole Jordan

  She raised a hand to her mouth, pressing back a cry, wondering what in God’s name could be done. “Perhaps… Is there no one we could ask for help? Lucian…”

  Gray’s mouth twisted. “I’m certain he would be delighted to aid me after my betrayal.”

  “You could throw yourself on his mercy.”

  “I would land in prison at the very least.”

  Brynn wanted to argue that Lucian might be persuaded to show leniency, but she had already discarded that hopeless option herself. Lucian would be the last person ever to feel sympathy for a traitor.

  “Besides,” Gray added grimly, “that still wouldn’t prevent Caliban from carrying out his threat to kill you.”

  Before she could think of a response, her brother set his jaw and gave her a dark glance. “To be frank, you haven’t done me any favors by coming here, Brynn. Wycliff is bound to be suspicious when he discovers you’ve returned home.”

  “Lucian doesn’t know I’m here. He has gone to Dover, searching for the gold.”

  “Well, I sincerely hope he keeps away.” Grayson took a final swallow of his wine. “If he tries to intervene, he will likely be killed.”

  Brynn felt her heart clench. “What do you mean?” she demanded hoarsely. “You wouldn’t kill him…”

  “Of course I wouldn’t. Not I. Jack. Caliban’s followers. They consider Wycliff their chief nemesis. If he shows his face, I have no doubt what will happen.”

  She must have looked stricken, for Grayson gazed at her with sudden sadness.

  “You love him, don’t you.” It wasn’t a question.

  Brynn sat in frozen silence, wanting desperately to refute the accusation. Yet she could no longer deny the truth. She didn’t want Lucian to die, not only because he was her husband and the father of her unborn child, but because she loved him.

  Dear heaven…

  “Did you forget about the curse?” Gray asked quietly.

  “No,” Brynn whispered. “I didn’t forget.” She had tried desperately to isolate her heart from Lucian, had refused to acknowledge her feelings in hopes of protecting him. To no avail.

  Cold fear knifed through her. Her love had the power to destroy. By admitting her feelings for Lucian, had she given him a death sentence?

  Just then a maid came to the study door and bobbed a curtsy. “Milady, his lordship has arrived.”

  “His lordship?”

  “Your husband. Lord Wycliff.”

  Gray rose abruptly to his feet, looking stunned, while Brynn’s heart froze in her chest. Lucian was here? What in God’s name was he doing in Cornwall when he’d set out for Dover only a few days ago? How had he known where she’d gone? How had he followed her so quickly?

  For a long moment, brother and sister stared at each other in shock.

  “Show him to the drawing room,” Grayson finally commanded the maid. “We will join him there.” When the girl was gone, his voice dropped to an urgent whisper. “Do you think he suspects me?”

  “I… I don’t know.”

  “Brynn, you cannot divulge a word about the gold to him. I beg you, keep silent.”

  “Gray-”

  “You will have to find a way to keep Wycliff occupied tonight. A few hours at least-long enough for Jack to fetch the gold. They intend to wait for full darkness, but they can’t delay too long or the tide will be too low for them to make a retreat.”

  “Grayson, I can’t-”

  “You can. You must. Unless you want your husband to die. I tell you, Jack won’t hesitate to kill him, Brynn. Or me, either.”

  Setting down his glass, Gray turned on his heel and strode from the room.

  After a long pause, Brynn followed more slowly, feeling as if she were being swept helplessly, inexorably along by a rushing current, toward a destiny of murderous peril.

  Brynn paused at the door to the drawing room, drinking in the sight of her husband’s beloved face. He was busy accepting her brother’s greeting, but as soon as Lucian spied her, his blue gaze locked with hers across the room.

  Brynn’s heart suddenly began to pound as they stared at each other. Lucian’s expression remained enigmatic, yet she wondered if he could see completely through her. If he could possibly know what she was contemplating.

  Desperation filled her, but she forced herself to hide her dismay and trepidation and ignore her painfully thudding heartbeat. Schooling her own features to surprise, she moved forward, offering her hands and then her cheek for him to kiss. “Lucian, whatever are you doing here? I thought you intended to travel to Dover.”

  “I did intend to, love,” he replied coolly. “But as I changed horses at a posting house, a messenger caught up with me, bearing the news that your brother was ill and that you had gone to his bedside. The timing of the emergency struck me as rather ominous. I have a number of enemies, Brynn, and I worried that they might be plotting to harm you. So I turned around immediately and made for Harrow. My suspicion rose even more when I found Theo quite well and no sign of my beautiful wife. I could only hope you had come here.”

  “I’m terribly sorry to have worried you unnecessarily, but”-she faltered, nearly choking on the lie-“my plans must have been misunderstood. When I said my brother was ill, I meant Grayson.”

  Lucian glanced at his brother-in-law, who, except for a wine-flushed complexion, appeared the picture of good health.

  “I summoned Brynn here,” Grayson interjected quickly, supporting her tale. “I feared I was on my deathbed, but it seems I was only suffering a bilious stomach. The new cook I hired after Brynn wed you served a fish that violently disagreed with me. But I am quite recovered now.”

  “How fortunate,” Lucian replied with a brief smile.

  “You must be tired and hungry after your long journey,” Grayson added in a stronger voice. “Despite that one instance, Cook can be trusted to produce an excellent dinner.”

  “I have only just arrived myself,” Brynn interjected, “and I admit I am famished, now that I’m assured Gray is well.”

  “We keep country hours here,” her brother informed Lucian smoothly now, “usually dining at half past six. But I will have dinner pushed back so you can refresh yourselves. I’ll see to it as soon as I have a servant gather your baggage and show you to your rooms.”

  Preferring not to share the same quarters with Lucian, however, Brynn overrode her brother’s orders and claimed her childhood bedchamber for herself, while giving Lucian a guest room farther down the hall. She didn’t believe she could endure such enforced intimacy, at least until she gained better command of her unstable emotions. Surprisingly Lucian didn’t protest the arrangements, but merely said he would collect her for dinner in an hour.

  Brynn was grateful for the chance to compose herself as she washed and changed her gown. By the time Lucian rapped on her door to escort her downstairs, she had managed to get her nerves under tenuous control.

  Her composure faltered again, however, when he greeted her with cool reserve; the current strain between them reminded Brynn of the early weeks of their stormy marriage.

  “I apologize again for the misunderstanding,” she said as they descended the stairs, wishing she could placate him.

  A muscle in Lucian’s jaw tightened, but he remained silent.

  “Are you angry that I came home?”

  “I would have preferred to know your intentions. You might have saved me a good deal of worry. As it was, I could only hope that nothing untoward had befallen you-not to mention that I was compelled to abandon my mission.”

  “I am sorry, Lucian, truly.”

  “Are you, love?” He didn’t sound convinced.

  Brynn eyed him warily, but Lucian merely ushered her into the drawing room where her brother awaited them.

  Dinner was more congenial than she expected, with Gray putting himself out to play the charming host. And the dishes were more tempting than Brynn had tasted at the Caldwell table since her childhood: hare soup, hot raised game pie, poached turbot in lo
bster sauce, boiled cauliflower, fillet of pheasant and truffles with a remove of plum pudding, and for the sweets, custard and hothouse strawberries.

  She was too agitated, however, to enjoy the delicious fare. With the knots roiling in her stomach, she might as well have been dining on sawdust.

  Her tension rose to a dangerous level at the conclusion of the meal. When Brynn would have repaired to the drawing room, leaving the gentlemen alone to their port, Gray spoke up.

  “I fear I must leave you. I have an engagement later this evening that I cannot avoid.”

  Brynn gave a start, then forcibly pressed her lips together to avoid demanding what her brother was up to.

  Lucian replied for her. “Don’t concern yourself, Sir Grayson. I for one will be glad for the privacy with my wife. I have missed her after so long a separation. These past three days have seemed an eternity.” His sapphire eyes met Brynn’s, sending a jolt of shivering awareness down her spine, along with unmistakable alarm.

  “Well then, if you don’t mind…” Gray rose from the table. “I will repair to my rooms to change. Brynn, if you can spare me a moment, I require your advice on a matter of the heart.” When she gave him a puzzled frown, his skin flushed as if in embarrassment. “During your absence I have been courting Miss Uxbridge, and I expect to encounter her tonight.”

  Miss Uxbridge was one of the local squire’s pretty daughters. Brynn suspected her brother was telling yet another lie, but she politely excused herself from Lucian and followed Gray down the hall and into the dimly lit library.

  “Here,” he whispered, fishing in his jacket pocket and handing her a vial of cloudy liquid. “Use this to keep Wycliff occupied tonight.”

  “What is it?”

  “Sleeping drops. Like laudanum, only stronger. You will have to slip it into his wine.”

  She stared at the vial as if it were poison. “You are asking me to drug my own husband? Grayson, I couldn’t possibly-”

  “You must, Brynn, if you want him to live. If you want Theo to live. If you care anything at all for them… for me… you will do as I ask.”

  Her fingers closed reflexively around the vial. As Gray walked away, she remained frozen in place. Finally she squeezed her eyes shut.

  How had she come to this? Torn between the terrible choice of protecting her brothers and betraying her husband, the man who owned her heart.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Lucian stared down at his wineglass as he waited for his beautiful wife to return, wondering if his worst fear would be realized. Was Brynn in league with her brother? Was she a thief and a traitor? He had little doubt she’d permitted his seal ring to be used by Sir Grayson, thus abetting Caliban and his cohorts in illicitly making off with the gold shipment. Was she also aiding her brother in smuggling the stolen gold to France?

  Bleakness washed over Lucian at the likelihood of her betrayal. Bleakness and fury. He was infuriated at Brynn because of the choice she was forcing him to make. He’d always considered himself an honorable man, but honor didn’t seem particularly important when weighed against the possibility of losing her to prison-or worse, to the gibbet.

  He couldn’t allow that to happen. He couldn’t allow Brynn to be imprisoned, especially not when she was carrying his child.

  Lucian clenched his teeth. It enraged him to think that she would risk their son or daughter’s future by engaging in treason. It enraged him even more that Brynn would destroy the promise of happiness they had found together.

  He had wanted to cherish her, damn her. He’d wanted to love her, to build a future with her, beget a family. He had made mistakes with Brynn, he freely admitted. He’d wed her with no regard for her wishes, seeking to end the emptiness in his life, demanding that she give him a son to fill the gaping hole inside him. But he’d believed-hoped-they had moved past his mistakes.

  Brynn herself had filled that dark void within him, Lucian acknowledged. For a few short weeks he had found bliss in her arms. Now, however, all he could feel was an emptiness inside him as vast as all eternity. And a rage that ate at him like poison.

  Lucian raked a hand through his dark hair, fully aware of his own madness. He was a goddamned fool to have hoped for more from Brynn. He had blindly fallen for an alluring temptress, a radiant beauty with flaming tresses and an enchanting spirit. He was obsessed with her. She would haunt him till he drew his last breath. But he was done hoping.

  Even so, he had to try to protect her. His men had Caldwell House surrounded. If her brother left, for an assignation, Philip Barton had orders to follow at a distance on the possibility that Sir Grayson would lead them to the gold.

  Lucian himself would take responsibility for keeping Brynn occupied. He wouldn’t allow her to endanger his unborn child. Much like probing a wound, however, on some dark, desperate, gut-deep level he needed to know how far she would go.

  If she was engaged in treason, he had to see the evidence with his own eyes. He intended to let Brynn take the lead tonight-to figuratively give her enough rope to hang herself.

  And if she was guilty? Then he would have to deal with her and the shattering aftermath. He would have to save her, no matter what it took. Even if it meant sacrificing his honor.

  Lucian squeezed his eyes shut as a savage ache clenched his chest. The gash in his heart was not a mortal wound, but near enough. He could only hope that someday the searing pain would be a little duller. But somehow he doubted it ever would be.

  Since her dinner gown had no pockets, Brynn slid the vial of sleeping drops between her breasts, where it rested cold and heavy against her flesh. Then, with grave reluctance, she returned to the dining room.

  Lucian was lounging at the table but looked up when she entered. It required every ounce of acting skill she possessed to force a smile and pretend she wasn’t about to betray him.

  When he held out his hand, she went to him and let him draw her down onto his lap to hold her loosely.

  “I am sorry Grayson had to leave,” she said, keeping her tone carefully neutral.

  “I’m not. I am glad to have the evening to ourselves.” The words were warm, and yet his expression remained emotionally cool, Brynn realized.

  “Do you want to repair to the drawing room?” she asked.

  “I can think of a far more pleasurable way to occupy our time.”

  He bent forward and pressed a light kiss on her collarbone, a suggestive act that told her very clearly what he had in mind. Brynn shut her eyes, deeply affected by even this casual contact. But then Lucian’s every touch had always tormented her with desire.

  When his lips moved lower, however, over the swell of her breast, she tensed. She couldn’t allow him to undress her here, not when he would discover the vial on her person. Resting her palms on his shoulders, she gently pushed him away. “Not here, Lucian. The servants…”

  “Then where?”

  She would have to find a way to administer the draught, she knew. Brynn glanced at his wineglass that was nearly empty. “Will you come to my room?”

  “I thought you would never ask.” His hands gliding to her waist, he set her on her feet. “Go ahead, love. I will join you shortly.”

  Grateful that he’d accepted her invitation so easily, Brynn detoured through the kitchens to fetch more wine. Her brother’s new chef was delighted to tap a new keg and supply her with a full crystal decanter and two goblets.

  When she reached her bedchamber, Brynn carefully shut the door behind her and set her tray down on a side table. Then, retrieving the vial from her bosom, she hesitated a long moment, her emotions in turmoil: despair, regret, heartache, fear for Lucian, all churning inside her.

  Taking a deep breath, Brynn opened the vial. She had no idea how much to use, but the dose needed to be strong enough to make Lucian sleep for at least a few hours. Murmuring an anguished prayer, she added six drops to one goblet.

  It was only when she began to undress that she realized she hadn’t packed a wrapper. Feeling chilled, Brynn donne
d her gown again, shivering as the silk pressed coolly against her nude body.

  Then she sat waiting. She wished Lucian would come, for anxiety and uncertainty were slowly shredding her nerves. She could hear the faint crackle of the dying fire, along with the painful pounding of her heart.

  It was utterly wrong to betray Lucian this way, Brynn knew, and yet she had no choice. She harbored a terrible dread about tonight. His life was in danger, she felt it in every bone in her body. If he tried to apprehend the traitors, he would be killed, it was as simple and precarious as that.

  She was desperate to save Lucian, even if it meant seducing him and drugging his wine to prevent him from carrying out his duty. Once he was safely asleep, she would somehow have to try to stop Gray herself, though how she would manage that feat she had no idea. She sat wracking her brain for the next several moments, a suffocating tightness in her chest, feeling trapped between the ties of blood and the ties of love.

  When the door finally opened, Brynn gave a start and rose to her feet. Lucian was still dressed for evening, she realized as he entered, although he had removed his jacket and cravat. His shirt hung open, exposing a smooth expanse of chest.

  Her breath caught in her throat at the picture he made. He was still one of the most sinfully beautiful men she had ever met, with his lean elegance and muscular grace. When the door shut, he leaned indolently against it, his expression enigmatic as he met her gaze.

  Brynn swallowed hard, trying to summon the courage for her performance. Slipping the bodice off her shoulders then, she let her gown fall to the floor in a whisper of silk, leaving her completely nude to his view.

  She heard Lucian draw a sharp breath, yet his smile seemed forced as his bold gaze roamed over her. “Is this a seduction, my love?”

  She tried to make her own smile provocative. “Merely a welcome. I am glad you have come.”

  For a long moment she met his sapphire eyes, but he made no move to join her. Time stretched between them like a taut wire. At length, however, the soft snap of the fire in the hearth broke the spell.