Andrews Brothers 01 - The Ruse (20 page)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“Letta, whatever will I wear?
Everything must be perfect.”

“My lady, you are beautiful no
matter what the gown.”

“You are too kind, but really,
help me choose. Should I go with the aquamarine color or the peach silk?”

In just a short time the dance
with the officers would begin. The staff expected a crowd and the scent of
fresh flowers and baking party treats wafted up the stairs to her room.
Discarded gowns piled atop her bed, a rainbow of colors considered, but
refused. Brigitta had tried on every gown at least twice and still could not
decide. Her head ached with anxiety. If only the evening could be a happy one,
spent at the side of her husband, then she would be content.

“My lady, if you are truly asking
for my opinion, then I like the aquamarine. The color matches your eyes. The
peach makes you look too pale.”

“Bless you, Letta.” Brigitta
grabbed the gown and dressed. Lace covered her cleavage and white satin gloves
ran the length of her arms.

Letta managed her unruly locks
like an expert. Instead of pulling up all her hair, which was so often the
custom, she allowed most of it to lie across her shoulders, only pulling up a
few strands and placing them in a clip atop her head.

The mirror reflected a woman of
breeding and refinement. Brigitta only hoped it showed when she opened her
mouth.

Patiently, she waited for escort
to the ballroom below but no one came. Letta had long since left and she sat
alone staring at the flames. The wood cracked, hissed, and popped. Ashes
drifted into the room and scattered across the floor. The flames mesmerized her
and she fought a tinge of remembrance as it tugged at her mind.

“Brigitta?”

Startled, she blinked. Luke knelt
before her, his brows drawn together with worry.

“Are you all right? You looked to
be in a trance.”

“Yes, I’m all right.” She stood
and held to his arm to keep from toppling forward as the room swayed around
her. She wished it would stop. Concern etched his features and she assured him,
“I’ll be fine. I just sat too long, is all.”

With a firm hand supporting her
elbow, he escorted her to the ballroom. Officers swirled around with ladies in
tow. Candlelight glittered off jewelry and silks. The musicians played from the
minstrels’ gallery. The room was cheerful and inviting with brilliant colors
and vivid red coats. Luke insisted she find a seat but she countered his
argument with a dance request. He bowed and she accepted his outstretched arm.

Together and apart, together and
apart, they moved. The music infected her with delight and giddiness and her
head cleared. As they drew close, she said, “The staff planned a lovely party
in so short a time.”

“Indeed.”

“And the ladies who have come are
extraordinary. Who knew so many could be summoned on such a short notice.”

“I assume these are the young
ladies scheming for husbands. Men in the area are in short supply.”

“I had no idea,” said Brigitta, a
smile twitching at her lips.

They finished the dance and took
a seat. Gathered in groups, the officers and young ladies conversed as footmen
served the musicians punch. Luke left her to retrieve refreshments and Brigitta
discreetly listened in on the colonel, chatting with a lovely lady wearing a
cerulean gown with outlandish sleeves. She tired of their bland conversation
and turned her attention to another officer, who bent over a young woman with
an ample bosom, his gaze widening at his view.

Brigitta covered her laughter and
peered through the crowd to see Luke in the crush around the punchbowl, playing
host while he fetched her an ice. Seemed he might be a while.

She sighed and patted her foot to
the beat of the music. An officer named Ollerton, his uniform askew, wobbled
into the crowd with the colonel. Brigitta palmed her chin as she eavesdropped.

“You would not know this was the
same place,” said one of the ladies.

The colonel replied, “Indeed, it
is not as I had expected.”

“The past arguments between the
baron and baroness are legendary.”

“I understand there was a mishap
recently.”

An elderly gentleman interjected.
“Yes, indeed. And it has been terrible for all of us. The estate is such a
drain on the tenants, with the extra rents and all, and the arguments between
the couple brought in a steady amount of traffic and income. Why, now I guess
we will be forced to make up the money to support the estate ourselves.” He
finished, fanned his flushed face, and pushed his daughter toward Ollerton.

Ollerton hiccupped and winked.
Brigitta covered a giggle and continued to watch with a sideways glance.

The young lady whispered, “Father,
I’ve already danced with everyone of interest.”

“Who cares? These are eligible
bachelors. Get thee on the dance floor.”

The lady went reluctantly.

The colonel frowned, presumably
at the father’s display, but then directed the subject back to the original
topic as the young lady and Ollerton scooted onto the dance floor. “Does the
baron not have his own money?”

“It is rumored he receives eight
thousand pounds a year from the ten per cents, but apparently he doesn’t use it
to keep up the estate. Many people have left his tenancy because of the high
rents. In fact, my family thought of doing so as well, but we’ve lived here for
generations and I couldn’t force myself to quit my home.”

The joviality Brigitta felt with
the earlier discourse was tainted by the startling new revelations. Her vision
swam and she cradled her head. The colonel and his cohorts moved away and
another group moved in, causing Brigitta to stumble into another conversation.

“This place is not as I expected,”
said a young man.

“And what did you expect?” asked
the girl, twittering her fan over her barely concealed cleavage.

“Do not misunderstand, the house
and grounds are precisely as described, except perhaps more grand, but the
baroness is much calmer than we were led to believe.”

“The incident has changed her and
the baron. Once at odds, they now appear to be lovers in good rapport.”

Heat flushed Brigitta’s face at
overhearing what the locals thought of her. She leaned her ear in another
direction only to hear her name called. Across the room, Luke approached, but
he wasn’t alone. A couple, perhaps local landowners, elegantly dressed in the
latest fashions, stood beside him. Luke crooked his finger in her direction as
if urging her to join them. She left her comfortable seat grudgingly.

“Yes, dear,” she said, fluttering
her lashes at Luke’s companions.

“I would like for you to meet a
couple of my friends. This is Thomas Morrison and his wife, Janet. They’ve just
arrived from London and wish to stay with us for a few days.”

“Delightful. We can always use
another lady in the house.”

Janet nodded and Thomas said, “Janet
could use the company. I fear with my extensive traveling, she has few
opportunities to make friends.”

Brigitta joined arms with Janet. “I’m
sure we will be the best of friends, don’t you think?” With casual steps, she led
her away from the two men, laughing voices diminishing behind them into the
party’s noise. “Tell me, how is London this time of year?” Brigitta carried on
a polite conversation.

“Boring, terribly boring. There
is nothing but party after party. Thomas is always running off and hunting or
fishing with some buddy of his whilst I’m forced to entertain the wife.”

“Oh, I see,” said Brigitta,
relaxing her hold and allowing Janet to slip away, taken aback by such obvious
rudeness.

Janet whipped out her fan. “Of
course, I never complain, because such is the life of a wife. We must help our
husbands in any way we can.”

Brigitta watched the fan move
erratically as if it attempted to match the mood swings of its owner.

Janet chattered on, unaware of
her continued rudeness. “But I don’t have to tell you this. You know all too
well the sacrifices needed to manage a household.”

“Excuse me?”

Janet slapped the fan against
Brigitta’s arm. “Don’t play dumb with me. Everyone believes the disappearance
caused you to forget your womanly duties within the Stockport manse, but I know
better.”

“I don’t follow.”

Janet laughed. “You are too much.
Everyone knows the baron only married you because of your vivacious temper.
Your entire reason for being is to draw in tourists and money.”

Brigitta grabbed her chest and
backed away. Janet cocked one brow and shook her head.”Don’t try to get
sympathy from me.”

“I don’t understand,” said
Brigitta as she stumbled into Luke.

“Are you all right?” he whispered
in her ear. “You look pale.”

In light of the common viewpoint
of her, the genuine concern in his voice served to strengthen her resolve.
Taking a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders and said, “I’m perfectly
fine. Would you like to dance?”

She glanced over her shoulder and
took a measure of delight from Janet’s insulted expression at deliberately
being left alone. She thought about sticking out her tongue, but bit it
instead, not wanting to disappoint Luke.

They strode onto the floor. As
they moved together, the look on his face was one of genuine pleasure. He
smiled at her. He flirted with her. Verbally he refused several offers for her
to dance with others. The night wore on and Brigitta forced herself to forget
the overheard words and Janet’s rumors. No way did Luke have problems with her.
They would never argue in public again, for it would affect the appearance and
reputation of Stockport. No, the officers, guests, and Janet must be wrong. It
was the only possible explanation.

****

Luke had tried to keep Brigitta
from hearing rumors about the tours, but he knew she’d overheard something. Her
posture stiffened, she seemed reflective, and her facial expressions seemed
more aggressive. She insisted on dancing every single dance with him.

When the night ended, his feet
were sore and he was ready for a good night’s sleep. He escorted Brigitta to
her room. They stood at the door and she lowered her gaze to the floor.

He lifted her chin. The words
felt dragged from the depths of his soul. “I promise things are going to
change.”

Candlelight struck her eyes and
they twinkled. “How so?”

“I can’t say yet. Just trust me.”

“When?” she added.

“Soon.”

She nodded and walked inside. The
trust she displayed warmed his heart. He closed the door but didn’t lock it.
Two footmen stood outside, with orders to escort Brigitta if she wanted to
leave and not to let anyone in except Letta or himself. He couldn’t run the
risk of Chadwick entering her room with him unawares and escaping with her in
the middle of the night.

Assured that Brigitta was safe,
he descended to the drawing room. Officers milled about, exiting the room in
waves. Eligible women lingered, waiting for their fathers to stop conversing,
and hoping the officers would ask to meet again.

Janet and Thomas stood in a
corner, quietly conversing, and Luke joined them.

“Thomas, I’m glad you and Janet
could stop by. The house has been oddly quiet of late.”

Janet snickered and Thomas sent
her a scathing look. He attempted to smooth it over by saying, “Forgive Janet,
she had something in her throat.”

“I don’t think so. I think there
is something she wants to say but is hiding it. Perhaps she should just spit it
out.” Cold fury rushed over him and Luke balled his hands into tight fists of
restraint.

Janet spoke in a haughty manner. “That’s
right, I do have something to say. I can’t believe you have the audacity to
introduce me to your
wife
.”

“What?”

“Everyone knows what she does.
She might as well be a kept woman.”

Luke looked back and forth
between the two, his pulse pounding slowly in his ears. “What is going on here,
Thomas?”

Thomas sighed. “I’m sorry you had
to discover it this way, but the news is all over London that you keep a woman
just to make money.”

Luke took a step back.

Janet’s look of cruelty left Luke
feeling cold as she said, “You know what is so strange is that your little wife
doesn’t seem to know what you’re using her for. When I questioned her, she
looked at me like I’d lost my mind.”

“Thomas, as much as it pains me
to say this, I think you and Janet should leave.”

Janet dropped her jaw. Thomas
placed his glass on the table. “I’m sorry, my friend. Hopefully we will meet
again under better circumstances.”

“I hope so as well,” said Luke.

He watched the couple leave his
house and climb into their carriage. It pained him greatly that Thomas had
believed the rumors even if they were partially true.

All the officers were either in
bed or had left for the village by the time he strode to his room and climbed
into bed. After tossing and turning, he finally settled and allowed sleep to
overtake him.

****

Chadwick dropped the knocker and
waited. A footman opened the door and escorted him to Lord Zedekiah Elis’
office. Lord Elis looked out the window and clasped his hands behind his back.
The door clicked closed. He didn’t face Chadwick but spoke to empty air. “I
understand you have requested an audience with me.”

“Yes, sir, I have.”

“And the purpose of this audience
has to do with my daughter, Zilla?”

“It does.” Chadwick felt a
nervous tingle race along his spine and he ran his unsteady finger around his
tightening cravat.

“Mr. Andrews.”

Chadwick noted the change in
title. He swallowed and placed one foot behind him in order to run at a moment’s
notice.

“Mr. Andrews, your duplicity in
regard to your title and name has recently come to my attention.”

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