“Why not, damn you?”
She lifted a pleading gaze to him. “Because I was afraid for your life! Once you discovered that I’d conceived, I knew you would never let me go. But I couldn’t stay with you any longer without falling in love with you. Without bringing the curse down on your head.”
Lucian stared at his beautiful wife, trying to read the truth in her emerald eyes. Had she really wanted to protect him from that damned curse, or was she merely trying to save her own skin?
His mouth twisted sardonically. “Well, I doubt you would have kept the secret much longer now that your complicity has been revealed.”
She bit her quivering lip. “What do you mean?”
“Surely you’re aware of the advantage in divulging your condition? Breeding is the rare circumstance that can keep a female traitor from the hangman’s noose. Indeed, perhaps that’s why you seemed eager to conceive my child-as surety against having to pay so severely for your crime.”
Her chin came up, while her eyes flashed. “That is a despicable insinuation. I wouldn’t want to conceive a child just to escape punishment, even if I were guilty. I am not a traitor, Lucian, whether you believe me or not. And I don’t want you to die. Even if I didn’t love you, I would still want you safe. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. To keep you safe.”
Lucian remained grimly silent. He desperately wanted to believe her profession of love, but he couldn’t allow himself. He had played the fool with Brynn once too often.
As if understanding his struggle, she rose and went to him, stopping a mere foot away. He could feel her warmth, her devastating allure, even dressed as she was in male clothing.
Determinedly Lucian clenched his hands at his sides as he fought for control. He wanted to shake Brynn, to dredge the truth from her. He wanted to strip away the deception between them, the dark secrets, the lies. He wanted to pull her into his arms…
Damn her to hell. She stood looking up at him in the dim lamplight, her eyes shimmering pools of green. She seemed utterly sincere. Was she guilty of treason, or was she only trying to protect her brother?
“I cannot prove my innocence, Lucian,” she said softly. “But I swear on our child’s life, I am telling you the truth.”
A surge of anger shot through him at her callous oath. Brynn was manipulating his sympathies, using his greatest vulnerability against him. It would serve her right if he arrested her and turned her over to the British government-
Silently Lucian cursed himself. He couldn’t send Brynn to prison, even if she was a traitor. God knew, he didn’t want anything or anyone to hurt her. She was his wife. The woman he loved. Even now his desire for her burned hotter than ever. It was a hungering ache that never left him.
Guilty or not, he couldn’t act against her. Even if it meant having to sacrifice his own honor, he couldn’t allow her to suffer the punishment for treason.
Lucian squeezed his eyes shut, blocking out the sight of her exquisite face. He would risk anything to protect the beautiful deceiver who owned his heart.
Still… he had to consider his duty. He had to prevent her further betrayal. And he had to keep her safe. He could think of one possible way…
Hardening his heart, Lucian made himself meet her gaze. “You’ve caused enough damage, Brynn, but I don’t mean to give you any further opportunity. As soon as I deal with your brother, I plan to take you to Wales.”
“Wales?”
“To the Wycliff castle there, where you’ll remain until my child is born. It will serve to separate you from your brother. Meanwhile, you may consider yourself under house arrest.”
“Arrest?” Her eyes widened with alarm.
“Yes. This house is surrounded, Brynn. If you attempt to leave, you’ll be arrested. Your brother, as well. You won’t succeed in your conspiracy.”
“Lucian, please-”
“I’ve heard enough.”
He started to turn away, but Brynn grasped his arm, detaining him. “What do you intend to do?”
“Prevent your brother from delivering the gold to our country’s enemies.”
A look of fear crossed her face. “You can’t involve yourself, Lucian.”
“Can’t I?”
“You’ll be killed. Please, I beg you…”
Lucian gritted his teeth. She wasn’t as concerned for his life as for her brother’s, he well knew. He could understand why Brynn wanted to protect Sir Grayson-because she was fiercely loyal to her family-but it galled him just the same that she would choose a traitor over him. But no amount of pleading would keep him from apprehending her brother.
Brynn evidently sensed his determination, for she took a deep, shaky breath. “Very well, then. I will take you to Grayson.”
Lucian gave her a sharp glance. Her tears were under control now, and her expression was emotionless, without a show of any feeling whatsoever. “What are you saying?”
“You don’t know where to look for him. I can show you.”
“I don’t need your help. I told you, if he attempts to leave, he’ll be arrested. He won’t get far.”
“He won’t be seen leaving the house, Lucian. You may search all you want, but you won’t find him.”
Lucian hesitated, wondering if this was yet another of Brynn’s silken lies.
“I will lead you to him. And the gold. I believe I know where he’s hidden it.”
His eyes narrowed. “Tell me.”
“No.” Brynn shook her head. “I won’t let you go alone, Lucian.”
He took a menacing step toward her, but she held her ground. “I am going with you.”
“Do you think me a complete gull? You expect me to follow you blindly into a trap you’ve plotted with your brother?”
A look of pain crossed her face. “I haven’t plotted any trap.”
“You aren’t going anywhere, Brynn. You are still my wife, and carrying my child. Traitor or not, I don’t want you endangered.”
“I don’t want you endangered, either. In any case, my brother would never harm me.”
“But his cohorts would. He’s right about the smuggling ring being vicious. They won’t think twice about wrapping that fiery hair of yours around your throat and strangling you with it.”
“I know. Why do you think I wanted a pistol?”
When that gave him pause, she pressed her argument. “What do you think I was planning, Lucian? I intended to stop Grayson myself, so you wouldn’t have to. I know you don’t believe me, but it’s true.”
Irate that she would continue her brash falsehoods, Lucian raised both hands to cup them around her throat in a velvet grip.
She gazed back at him mutely, anguish in her eyes.
With another savage oath, Lucian let his hands fall away. “Wait here,” he demanded.
“Lucian…”
Rejecting her plea out of hand, he left Brynn in the study, shutting and locking the door behind him. Striding swiftly along the corridor to the front entrance, he let himself out and descended into the darkness.
Philip Barton appeared out of the night. “My lord?”
“What have you seen of Sir Grayson? Has he made an appearance this evening?”
“No, he hasn’t left the house.”
At least not by any of the conventional portals, Lucian concluded. He could order the house searched, but he suspected Brynn was being truthful for once; Sir Grayson wouldn’t be found. There had to be a hidden passage within the house, Lucian realized. He might find it eventually, but his efforts could prove too late.
Philip seemed able to read his mind. “I have men patrolling the beach, as you ordered.”
“They still could slip past with the gold,” Lucian said grimly.
“What do you wish me to do?”
What indeed? Lucian wondered. If Brynn was telling the truth, she could lead him to her brother and the gold.
And what then? Would she then spring her trap?
Did he really have a choice, though? He couldn’t risk letting the
gold fall into French hands. He would have to accept Brynn’s terms, despite the danger.
“Have your men maintain their posts,” Lucian said, turning on his heel. The price of trusting his wife might be his own life, but he had no better option.
Chapter Twenty-one
Lucian allowed Brynn to go first with the lamp while he carried his own pistol at the ready. He wasn’t surprised when she led him through the now-dark kitchens to the wine cellars below, nor when she slipped behind a wall of casks and bent low to open a short oaken door.
“This leads to the coast?” he asked.
“Yes. There are several caves beneath the house, connected by tunnels. The entrance from the shore is hidden in a crevice in the cliff wall.”
“Convenient for your family,” Lucian remarked sardonically.
Brynn shot him a glance but didn’t respond.
When she disappeared through the opening, Lucian followed. A narrow flight of steps hewn into the rock descended into the darkness.
Neither of them spoke as they moved downward. Brynn’s lamp cast flickering shadows over the rock, which was streaked with red and green and purple. When they reached the bottom step, the underground passage flattened out, but Lucian had to stoop to keep from striking his head.
Eventually the tunnel opened into a small cavern where he could stand up straight. This natural hideaway would be ideal for storing a cache of contraband, he knew. The Cornish coast was honeycombed with coves and ravines where a smuggler’s ketch could slip in undetected, but getting the trafficked goods to and from the beach presented a greater challenge. The usual goods would be bulky- bolts of silk, velvet, and lace, casks of wine, kegs of brandy, perhaps tea, all smuggled into the country to avoid the high taxes imposed by the British government because of the interminable war.
The floor of the cavern was wet and treacherously slick, Lucian saw, the rock worn smooth over the centuries by a trickling stream coming from deep underground. When Brynn slipped once, he reached out instinctively to steady her. She flinched at that casual contact, and Lucian drew his hand back abruptly, feeling burned himself.
She moved on through the cave into another man-made passageway cut through the rock. He glanced around carefully, marking his way, before following her. Soon he could hear the distant sound of the sea as it surged against the base of the cliffs.
Shortly the tunnel spilled into another cavern, this one already dimly illuminated by a lantern. Urgently Lucian put a hand on Brynn’s shoulder, silently detaining her. Some fifteen feet away, her brother Grayson was pacing the floor-rather nervously, Lucian saw.
Stepping past Brynn into the cavern, Lucian called out Sir Grayson’s name. The man spun around, reaching for the pistol in his belt. He froze when he saw the weapon aimed at his heart.
Lucian gestured with the barrel of his gun. “I suggest you put it down… slowly.”
For a moment Grayson’s hand clenched around the grip, but then he did as he was bid, carefully withdrawing his pistol and setting it on the rocky ground.
Then he flung his sister a despairing look. “You led him here, didn’t you? Are you pleased with yourself, Brynn, betraying your own flesh and blood?”
The pain on her face was visible, Lucian saw with a glance over his shoulder.
“I didn’t betray you,” she said hoarsely. “Lucian found us out somehow. But I was coming to find you, in any case. There may be another way out, Gray. One that doesn’t involve committing treason.”
Grayson clenched his fists, his fury evident. “Damn you, I told you, there is no other way.”
“What’s this?” Lucian interjected sardonically. “Dissension among thieves? I should think, Sir Grayson, you would show your sister more gratitude. You could never have stolen my seal ring without her help.”
Grayson’s wrathful focus shifted, and he glared at Lucian. “Brynn had nothing whatever to do with my appropriating your ring. I took it from your study over her adamant objections, and then tricked her into keeping silent.”
“Then used it to help our country’s enemies steal a scheduled shipment of gold.”
His gaze lowered. “Apparently so. I’m not proud of that. But you cannot blame Brynn. She played no part in it.”
Lucian raised a skeptical eyebrow, unsurprised that Grayson had come so readily to her defense. “You expect me to believe you? A traitor?”
“Believe what you choose, my lord. But I am solely responsible. Brynn hasn’t been involved until tonight when I demanded that she drug you.”
Lucian’s mouth curled. “And drugging me is supposed to absolve her?”
“She did it to save your hide, to keep you safe from Caliban’s men. You’re the one who should be grateful, Wycliff.”
A strange sense of relief filled Lucian to hear Brynn’s claim repeated. Perhaps, just possibly, she wasn’t guilty of treason after all.
“I intend to deal with my wife later,” Lucian replied. “For now, you’re my chief concern. I’ll thank you to return to the house with me.”
Grayson’s shoulders slumped. “No,” he said quietly.
“It will only go harder for you if you resist.”
He offered a bitter smile. “How can anything go harder than hanging? No, I’m afraid you will have to kill me, my lord. I would sooner die from a bullet than be executed for treason.”
Brynn gasped, but her brother nodded toward Lucian’s weapon. “Go ahead and fire. I don’t intend to let you arrest me.”
She stepped forward, the lamp she carried sending shadows jumping around the cavern. “No, Lucian, you can’t. I tell you, Grayson didn’t mean to commit treason. He didn’t know what he was doing. He was only trying to pay his debts, to protect his family. Please… Gray, tell him…”
“Brynn, I want you to leave,” Lucian ordered.
“No, I can’t let you shoot him-”
“Brynn,” Grayson said gently, “being shot is a far better way to die. It would spare you the shame of my hanging, as well as keep you safe. If I’m dead, Caliban and his ilk will no longer be a threat to you and Theo.”
Lucian hesitated, feeling a grudging respect for the man he should hold only in contempt. Grayson was prepared to die, that was certain. The shame in his eyes, the misery, the quiet resignation all shouted his resolve.
That hopeless look was all too familiar, Lucian reflected with a grimace. He’d seen that same despair on the face of his friend Giles. The friend he had killed.
Flinching, Lucian steeled himself against the anguishing memory, yet for an instant he was in another time-confronting Giles for his treason, being forced to end his life. For months afterward, Lucian remembered, he’d cursed the unfairness of it. Caliban was to blame for ruining countless men, men who were basically good and honorable. The bastard had ruined Sir Grayson the same way-with threats and extortion-Lucian had no doubt.
His gaze fell to the pistol in his hand. Could he repeat the past? Could he instigate Sir Grayson’s death? It would be tantamount to murder to try to apprehend the man just now, for like Giles, Grayson wouldn’t allow himself to be taken alive.
Brynn must have had the same thought, for she moved between them, tears sparkling in her eyes.
“You can’t kill him, Lucian. Please… please, I beg you…”
“Brynn, stay out of this,” her brother commanded.
She bit back a sob, a despairing sound that tore at Lucian’s heart. Hardening his resolve, he returned his gaze to Grayson. “Where do you have the gold secreted?”
Grayson nodded toward the back of the cave. “Beneath a shallow pool of water. You should take it. There’s no longer any point in my trying to keep possession of it.”
“I presume you’re waiting for your French contact to arrive?”
“Yes. A man named Jack. He was to meet me before the tide fell too low. He should have been here by now.”
“Perhaps he’s having difficulty eluding my patrols,” Lucian remarked. “I have men posted at various intervals along the
coast.”
“I suspect he would have seen your patrols, but Jack is quite resourceful. He would have contrived a diversion so he could slip in to fetch the gold.” Grayson looked pointedly at the pistol. “You had best get on with it, so you can take Brynn away from here. Jack has threatened more than once to kill her. Every moment you delay only endangers her.”
Lucian felt a muscle flex in his jaw. “You’re suggesting I shoot you in cold blood?”
“If you would rather not, I can perform the task myself-that is, if you would trust me with a weapon. I give you my word of honor I will see to it.” His mouth twisted in a bitter smile. “My word once meant something. Before this, I was an honorable man.”
Grayson was deadly serious, Lucian knew; he meant to take his own life.
“Or perhaps,” Grayson added, “all you need do is wait. Jack will be more than eager to put a period to my existence when I can’t deliver the gold. You could leave me a weapon. I promise you I would attempt to take him with me.”
“You would be willing to turn on your cohort?”
“More than willing. Jack isn’t my cohort. He’s the bastard who threatened to kill my family…” Grayson’s features contorted in a grimace. “Why do you think I gave in to their demands? Nothing else could have induced me to commit treason. But I doubt you could understand such weakness, Wycliff. You have never cared for anyone as much as your honor. You would have been stronger, had you found yourself in my place.”
Would I have been stronger? Lucian wondered to himself. I would have fought back, certainly. I would have mobilized all the private resources at my disposal, all the government forces at my command. But Grayson had few resources and fewer government contacts. And still there would have been a risk to Brynn…
Lucian shook his head, knowing he was lying to himself. He would have sacrificed his honor for Brynn’s sake. He would have done anything to save her.
Was he really so much better than her brother?
Just then Brynn took another step toward Lucian. She didn’t utter a sound, but the plea in her green eyes was wrenchingly eloquent. She might hate him if he killed her brother.
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