Together they captured a murderer, and settled somewhere near Bath.”
“I shall never remember any of this,” Vivian stated with a shake of her head.
“Sarah and William are Foxton, a doctor who married a midwife.
William was once married to another, and Sarah was filled with strife.
His son is the son of his brother, his wife died in Sarah’s arms.
But it all worked out in the end, no need to take alarm.”
“You’re supposed to be helping me to remember them all, not making it even more complicated.”
“Norah and Trevor are Sandton, and they wed less than a year ago.
Norah gave birth to Lady Eloise, but this you already know.
Trevor was once a soldier, and the experience nearly drove him mad.
But Norah loved him even so, and for that the Mad Major was glad.”
“And us?” Vivian asked. “Are we to be included?”
“Luke and Vivian are Kenswick, and their story has just begun.
He promised her a house if she allowed him six months of fun.
Despite traitors and fires and having nearly died,
The earl was grateful for his convenient bride.”
“Is that all I am to you?” she asked softly as they came to stop near a nestling of apple trees. “A convenient bride?”
Luke’s gaze was warm, affectionate, as it roamed over her, holding her gaze for a long moment before he sighed.
“Luke and Vivian should not have worked,” he said. “But somehow together they thrived. At the end of the day, he could not stay away, for he needed Vivian to survive.”
“Ha! You need me to survive?”
Luke answered with a grin. “Your knowledge of cathedrals has proved useful.”
The front door of Bradstone Park loomed before them, the house even more grand than she could see from before. Red bricks, white framed windows, white terraced entrance with white columns. It was impressive, and she understood the detail in the Tudor structure. She recognized the inspiration for the stucco work, and the Italian masters who had influenced the masonry.
“We are not going to go charging in through the front door,” Luke said. “Gads, the questions that would cause if we were to arrive, half dressed, sans carriage.”
“Where is the carriage?”
“Quan will have it here shortly. Once he is certain he is not being followed.”
He pulled her around the side of the house, stepping into the cool shadows.
“If we are not to go through the front, then how do we get inside?”
“Around the side there is a little-used entrance through a rarely used sitting room. We can slip into the house, pop up the stairs and find a room to sleep.”
“And a clean set of clothing?”
“Indeed,” he replied.
“Luke, it was one thing engulfed in the darkness of the woods, unlikely to come across anyone. But that isn’t the case now. What if someone sees us?”
“Not to worry, my dear,” he said as he found the door he was looking for. “If anyone is awake, they will be in the breakfast room, on the opposite side of the house. We will slip in and no one will be the wiser.”
He turned the handle and the door swung open as they stumbled inside.
Eleven pairs of eyes turned to them in surprise, varying degrees of shock racing across their faces.
Vivian froze beside Luke, who to his credit seemed surprised to find people gathered in the room, staring back at them.
“Good morning,” he said with a brightness to his tone Vivian knew was forced. “I say, why are you taking breakfast in here?”
There was a stunned silence as everyone fought to recover from their sudden appearance in what appeared to be the breakfast room.
“Clara repurposed this room as the breakfast room when she redecorated two years ago,” the gentleman at the end of the table stated, his mouth dipped into a frown. From Luke’s description, he must be Andrew, the duke.
“You’d know that, brother, that if you’d been home at all in the past two years,” one of the ladies added.
Vivian thought through all Luke had told her about his siblings and every piece of information she’d learned through gossip. Sarah was the oldest, and she saw Norah about to burst out in laughter. The lady who spoke had dark Macalister curls, so she must be Susanna, the Countess of Westcott.
“Welcome home, Luke,” the blond to the right of the duke said, smiling sweetly, and she could have only been the duchess, sitting where she was.
“It’s lovely to be home,” he said and glanced at Vivian. He slipped his hand into hers, and pulled her closer. “We are happy to be here.”
Clara’s gaze roamed over Vivian with interest. Vivian wanted to die on the spot.
“Luke, what on earth?” Sarah began but Luke cut her off.
“Right, there was a fire… at the inn.”
“The inn?” the duke asked.
“In Canterbury. There was a fire at the inn in Canterbury.”
“What were you doing in Canterbury?” Sarah asked.
“Come to surprise you all, of course!” Luke said. “Surprise!”
Blank gazes gawked at them. They were not making the best first impression.
“Well it’s a lovely surprise,” the duchess said, as she glanced about the room. Everyone nodded belatedly. “And who is this with you?”
“Oh,” Luke said, his mouth dipping into a frown as he glanced at Vivian. Confusion and fear raced through his gaze but it was gone so quickly Vivian was certain she had imagined it. Then his face brightened and the uncertainly was gone in an instant as he declared, “This is Vivian. My wife.”
Chapter Fifteen
Vivian was grateful for their hasty escape from the breakfast room, and even more so for the clean change of clothing provided by the timely arrival of Quan and a wagon carrying their luggage.
Luke had not said much to her in the intermediate minutes between his clumsy announcement and their retreat to rooms upstairs. He offered an encouraging smile, and jokingly declared, “Not to worry, my family will calm down. They will adore you.”
It wasn’t reassuring. This wasn’t how she’d wanted to meet Luke’s family. Despite her temporary status in Luke’s life, she didn’t want those months to be uncomfortable. And nothing made things more uncomfortable than family.
Vivian was bathed, dressed, and her hair reworked into something resembling a coiffure, to the pride of the maid who had been sent to assist her.
“This looks lovely, thank you,” Vivian said, turning to view what the maid had done. It was nice to have her hair properly pinned up for a change. She pulled on a pair of long cream gloves. Hopefully no one in Luke’s family had noticed her scars.
After they’d had a nap, and were more presentable, Vivian and Luke reappeared in the drawing room where she was properly and formally introduced to his amassed siblings. Before long, his brothers pulled him away with promises of champagne and Vivian drifted away from the grouping and slowing sipped at her tea.
“That was a spectacular entrance,” Norah said from behind her. Vivian glanced away from the view out the window. Luke’s sister looked ready to burst with glee.
“That was a disaster.”
“Nonsense. This family is no stranger to the dramatic, despite somehow remaining scandal free.” Norah considered her. “How goes it with my brother? I know how trying he can be.”
Vivian snickered. “Trying yes, but only because he is so annoyingly perfect.”
Norah’s brows rose in surprise. Watching her expression turn from amusement to confusion was not what Vivian expected to see. She expected Norah to laugh and agree with her, to commiserate on Luke’s perfect existence. Maybe she did know about Luke’s wife?
Instead, Norah asked, “What do you know of our family?”
Vivian caught herself before she said something snarky. Truthfully, most of what she knew of the Macalister family was what she read in th
e gossip sheets or learned from Luke’s silly verse.
“My family you see amassed here, is missing a few of its members,” Norah explained. “Fifteen years ago, our father and oldest brother, Sam, died. Andrew—” Norah paused as she and Vivian both glanced at the duke. “—became the Duke of Bradstone when he was seventeen years old. Our mother died six months later.”
That was certainly not what Vivian had expected her to say.
Norah continued. “We’ve each dealt with those tragedies in different ways. Luke, for example, has always been there to make us all feel a little lighter. Ten years ago, he ran away to join Wellington, and I doubt he ever stopped running from what he lost. The rest of us may have lost our parents and brother, but Luke seems to have lost himself along the way. He has hidden in playing a part, doing what he can to save others from a similar heartbreak. But I doubt he truly knows his place in this world.” Norah paused but her expression wasn’t rude or malicious. “Try not to judge him too harshly. He may appear perfect and unaffected but he’s just better at controlling his features than the rest of us are.”
Vivian felt adequately set down.
“I… I had no idea,” she said softly. “Goodness, forgive me, Norah. Had I known…”
“Give Luke a break. He’s trying to pull himself together. He just doesn’t know how to do it. His new earldom will give him some direction, and I suspect you can keep him on the right path. Find a way to love him, if you can, and if not, at least be a steady harbor he can come home to. That boy needs someone to care for him, even if he doesn’t want to admit to it.”
Vivian nodded and blinked away tears that pricked at the corners of her eyes. Norah’s words echoed Mr. Sutton’s, and they were both correct—at least, they were correct about her rude assumptions about him. How could she have judged Luke so harshly? From the onset she’d just assumed she knew exactly who he was, a flippant, devil-may-care, spoiled lord. Hadn’t the past forty-eight hours shown her there was more to him?
Norah patted her arm as she moved on, and Vivian was content to stand alone near the window, wallowing in her horrible mistake.
Goodness, she’d accused him of never having any difficulties in his life. And he’d never corrected her or told her how wrong she was.
Vivian sighed, ashamed of the prejudices she’d formed against him before they’d even met. Her gaze roamed over the landscape below, the grounds covered with white blooming trees, glittering in the late morning sun.
She leaned closer to the window, her nose nearly pressed against the cool glass as she squinted at the sight below her.
“See something of interest?” came Clara’s voice and Vivian jumped.
“Hello, your grace,” Vivian said, a smile creeping across her face. The Duchess of Bradstone’s smile was sweet and welcoming, and Vivian was instantly charmed. “I apologize for our untimely arrival this morning.”
“Yes, it was quite the sight to see you two topple into the breakfast room,” the duchess replied, a teasing glint in her brown eyes. “To think of the two of you wandering about the Kent countryside dressed like that! It’s a miracle you didn’t catch a chill.”
Illness had been the last thing on Vivian’s mind, truthfully. Instead she’d ranted against her husband for what she’d perceived as indifference. She was starting to think his indifference might just be how he survived.
Vivian glanced out the window. “I say, is that an orchard?”
Clara moved closer to the window. “Yes, it is. Bradstone Park is mostly an apple orchard. It’s the dukedom’s primary source of income, in fact.”
“And just there, is a cliff line, dropping down to the sea?”
“Yes,” Clara replied.
“An orchard by the sea,” Vivian said softly, realizing Luke hadn’t invented that bit. “Incredible. I never thought such a thing could exist.”
“The Macalister’s have a way of making the impossible come true,” Clara replied.
Vivian nodded, though she barely heard the duchess. Her mind shuffled through all the ridiculous things Luke had said over the past week.
“Did Luke lose you once?” she asked with a sharp, curious glance.
The duchess blanched. “He did, in fact, but he was also the one to recover me. Did he share that with you?”
Vivian nodded. “He mentioned it, but it seemed so unbelievable I didn’t ask anything further. Is Luke’s Christian name truly Lanfranc?”
A light feminine chuckle escaped the duchess. “Yes, as ridiculous a name as that is. I thought it was Lucas for years. Apparently, their mother began to get creative with names. Wait until you find out what Mara’s name really is.”
Was it all true? Not everything he said could be true, because if it was then…
The walls of her vision tunneled inwards as her mind thumped into the truth. All of Luke’s idiotic statements, the sheer insanity of the past forty-eight hours. The man had spent time in France, and China; he spoke six languages, for goodness’ sake. His best friend was accused of being a traitor! Halcourt’s map of shipping routes, which could also be escape routes…
“Excuse me, your grace.” The numbness of shock began to dissipate, but she needed to know for certain if what she was thinking was true. It was too unbelievable and yet, too much of it felt right. “I wish to speak with my husband.”
Vivian beelined for Luke, whose brows perked up as she saw her determinedly cross the room towards him.
“Might I speak with you for a moment?” Vivian asked her husband in a hushed tone. “Preferably alone?”
Luke’s eyes lit with excitement, rather than concern as a normal person’s might, but Vivian had long ago learned Luke was not what could be considered normal. And only now she realized he was so much more.
He said he had never lied to her; she prayed he wouldn’t do so now.
* * *
Luke could only wonder at the panic and confusion that flashed through Vivian’s gaze. She was determined as she moved about the hallway, restless, her eyes wild as she spun about. Her green gaze settled on him and her jaw set, almost as if she was prepared for a fight.
“It’s true,” Vivian stated. “Everything you’ve said is true.”
Ah. They’d reached the moment of truth.
Luke had no intention of denying her, but they were not having this conversation inside, where anyone could hear. He’d done his best to keep his family in the dark, though he knew some of them had their doubts about the nature of his work. No point confirming their suspicions.
He slipped his hand into hers and pulled her down the hall and out the front door. He didn’t stop until they were surrounded by blooming apple trees, the cold crisp of the spring sea air biting against his skin.
He turned towards her, not attempting to appear confused or unimpressed, anything other than the turbulent whirlwind that had sucked through him at her fretfully uttered statement.
“You will have to be a tad more specific,” Luke replied. “I say a lot of things.”
“The apple orchard by the sea.” Her gaze traveled over the apple trees, green and fresh with their early spring bloom. “It’s real.”
“Yes, as we are currently there.”
“And the rest of it,” she continued in a rush. “About the Prince Regent and Clara and… and…”
“And?”
“And you are a spy.” Her voice was quiet, disbelieving almost. The way she watched him, expectantly, as if she thought he might laugh or scoff or dismiss her outlandish claim, but he said nothing. Silence hung in the air, crashing against them like the waves battering just below the cliff.
Luke’s mouth quirked up at one end. He had only ever been honest with her. No reason to stop now. “Yes.”
“Oh my goodness.” She pulled her hands to her auburn hair, looking ill. “You’re a bloody spy.”
Her swearing was endearing. “To be fair, I did inform you.” He crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against the nearest apple tree, striving for effortles
sly unaffected. It was part of his charm, schooling his emotions, pretending to be aloof or silly or amusing. It made him an affective operative.
“You knew I wouldn’t believe you,” she accused, taking in deep breaths of the fresh spring air. “Redley is a spy also—and Poppins and Halcourt. Goodness, they’re all spies!”
“Yes. Redley has been my partner for nearly a decade. Poppins and Martin are partners. There are three other teams under Halcourt’s direction, and probably half a dozen who hold the same position as his. We are a subsect of the Alien Office but work for the Foreign Office.”
Vivian frowned. “The Alien Office is under the Home Office.”
“Yes, technically, and while there are some covert groups working directly under the Home Office, our subsect of the Alien Office operates under the Foreign Office, as most of our skills are used abroad. For appearances, we are all diplomats working for the Foreign Office.”
“And Quan is a spy too?”
“Quan is what I said he was. He saved me from an unpleasant situation in China, just after I started this. He’s been with me ever since.”
“Does your family know?”
Luke shifted his weight uncomfortably, glancing at the house visible above the tree line. From this distance their conversation could not be overheard, but they could be observed.
“Andrew suspects but has never asked. I encountered Ian and Trevor during our time on the Continent, and they are aware that some of my activities are in service for the Crown. Norah knows. The rest are unaware, as far as I know.” He hoped the others did not know. He didn’t want their questions, or their worry, to plague him throughout his missions. He’d been successful thus far in keeping himself emotionally removed from them. He loved them, they were his family, but if they knew about this aspect of his life, he would never hear the end of it.
“Goodness, Luke, that is quite a secret to keep from them. Why are you being honest with me?”
“I’ve always been honest with you,” Luke insisted. “You’ve never thought much of me, and thus never believed what I said.”
The Spy’s Convenient Bride: The Macalisters, Book Five Page 18
