Love Inspired Historical January 2015 Box Set: Wolf Creek Father\Cowboy Seeks a Bride\Falling for the Enemy\Accidental Fiancee (91 page)

“His lordship told her she was being silly, but my lady is still afraid.”

“I will do my best, miss. But three days, that is not poss—”

“My lady says three days or no payment.”

* * *

It was at that moment that Brandon, walking down the street with a friend, stopped suddenly. He looked into the window of a small jewelry broker and thought he saw Grace's face. When she turned away, he realized it was a lady's maid, but his instincts told him to wait and watch. “You go along, Frederick. I spotted something I would like to purchase for Lady Grace, and I may be a while. I will meet you at the club shortly.”

Brandon watched from the side of the window while the woman talked with the jeweler. Something was out of place. Then she turned to sign something and there was no question it was Grace. She was alone again and dressed as a maid! What was she up to?

He disappeared back into the alley as she left the shop and stepped into the waiting hackney by the curb. Clearly, she was perfectly capable of getting herself into trouble again, but he would not let her get away with it this time!

He entered the store as the man was about to go back to his office. When Brandon interrupted with an “Excuse me,” the jeweler turned back, looking over his shoulder. His face drained of all color.

“My lord!” the store owner said, as he jumped in surprise. “T-to what do I owe this honor?”

“Cut line, man. If I had not suspected something before this, your face just now would have given it away. Why don't you tell me what happened here,” he said calmly.

The bald man began to sweat profusely and became agitated. “I was going to tell you, my lord, believe me. I was just getting ready to send you a note, asking what you would have me do. I would hope you could count on me, sir, my lord, sir.”

“What in blazes are you talking about?” Brandon asked, now concerned.

“That maid just gave me the Weston emeralds and asked me to make paste copies of them in three days. I was not going to do it, I swear, your lordship,” he practically whimpered. “I was going to give them to you directly.”

What was she up to now? Brandon's first reaction was surprise. Had she planned this all along, even as far back as the inn? No, he would bet his life she'd had no idea who he was the day they'd met. That alone would preclude her from knowing about the emeralds. And she had fought him at every turn when discussing their betrothal; she would not tell a single lie. She had even tried to refuse the emeralds when he'd first offered them.

No, he trusted her implicitly.

But why would she have copies made of the jewels? The little minx was up to something, and he could not believe that the dressing down he'd given her after her last adventure had not quit her of recklessness. But if she thought she was going to exclude him again after her promise, she was far off the mark.

“Do as she asked,” he said, and turned to leave the store.

Did she not trust him?

The next day Brandon entered Grace's home, to find her waiting next to Max as she pulled on her gloves. He nodded in Max's direction and smiled at her. “Should I challenge him to a duel?” he asked as he kissed her hand.

She smiled back at him, but he noticed it did not reach her eyes. “No,” she said, much too serious for his liking. “I would not want to see either of you hurt.”

“Still a little unwell, my sweet life, or still angry with me for my actions at the ball?” He became concerned when she remained quiet for some time. She was not nervous as much as pensive, and he wondered what was going on in that beautiful head of hers.

“No, Brandon, neither of those things. I am not unwell and I know, after thinking about it, that I deserved the lesson you gave me at the ball. I am afraid I am not as worldly-wise as I thought.”

“Why so melancholy, then?” Would she tell him why she was having the emeralds copied?

“I suppose it is the result of lying abed all day yesterday.” She sighed.

But she had not been in bed all day yesterday. He had seen her at the jewelers.

Then she pretended to cheer up, and apologized. “I am sorry to be such bad company. I do have some things to talk to you about.”

She did trust him! And it pleased him excessively.

“Do you remember my telling you about a little boy named Nicky, at the orphanage, who never participates or speaks? I was there the other day with Mrs. Dickerson. I spent quite a bit of time with him and he actually played with me.” She sighed again. “I will miss him so. I will miss them all.”

He scowled, not wanting to talk about the orphanage, but held his tongue, knowing he needed to give her time. When they were in his curricle, the streets were busy and he was sure she was waiting until they reached the park and he could concentrate fully on what she was telling him. “Why will you miss them?” he asked, not yet grasping her meaning. His thoughts were on the emeralds.

“I have decided upon a plan for ending our betrothal. As soon as we do it, I must go home. I have been away from the estate too long as it is, and now that Father is here, there will be much to do. I know you must be wishing me long gone.”

“Grace, what is this all about? If I wished you gone, I would have told you so.” She was beginning to scare him. “Lydia's wedding is less than a month away. Why would you leave and then come back?”

He reverted to humor. With a rakish smile he quipped, “Never say you are tired of my charms. It will appear to the
ton
as if I have lost my touch! I was certain I would have you swooning over me.”

She smiled at his antics and said, “Oh, no, my lord, not swooning. That would ruin
my
reputation.”

He laughed. She had been trying to tell him from the day they'd met about her shockingly staid character, but he did not believe it, and he loved that she could make him laugh guilelessly. But the curtain lowered again almost immediately and the sparkle disappeared from her eyes.

He spoke before she could. “Enjoy London while you may. Soon we will have the orphanage on Baxter Street for you to work with.”

“No!” Her vehemence shocked him. More softly, she said, “We cannot keep putting this off. I have seen enough of London to last a lifetime. My plan will allow me to be home by the end of the week. Tomorrow we will go for ices after our drive and have an audible argument. I thought we could disagree about the time I still wanted to spend at Pennington Abbey. It seems to be the type of thing that would make a real rake, who loves the city, angry. But if you can think of something better, it does not really matter.”

She never looked at him during the entire speech, and he thought he heard a trembling in her voice. It did not take a genius to know there was more to this than she let on. Did the emeralds have anything to do with it?

She gathered herself and continued nonchalantly. “We would, of course, show considerable tension at the Torringtons' ball tomorrow night. I will go home a few days later with Father and you can send the announcement to the papers that our engagement is at an end. When asked, I will say we did not suit.”

“My, you have thought this out.” He could see she would not be moved. And she had not spoken of the emeralds at all. A jolt pierced his heart. He was not ready for it to end. He needed more time to...to what?

“Lydia is taken care of, the purpose for our betrothal is no longer valid and I need to get home.” She seemed to be trying to be lighthearted. “And you have been fighting off marriageable daughters for many years. It was a mere convenient advantage, our being betrothed. You will be fine.” She smiled, but still stared straight ahead.

He did not know how to tell her how much he wanted her to stay. He could promise her nothing. He had made it clear from the beginning that he was not interested in marriage. But she
did
bring out sentiments in him that he had never experienced before.

“Grace, we can—”

She interrupted him. “We are agreed, then?”

“I...suppose so. You have managed it all quite neatly.” He drove on, thinking she must have been more offended the night of the ball than she had let on. And it hurt to know she still did not trust him enough to tell him about the emeralds.

He felt her slipping away from him. And in spite of their agreement, he was not at all willing to let her go.

Chapter Fifteen

A
fter leaving Grace, Brandon was restless, confused and in need of counsel. That in itself was out of the norm. He had learned early to take care of himself. If he relied on no one, he could not be hurt.

But tonight, before going to his club for dinner, he sent a message to Lord Langdon, asking him to be his guest. He received a missive in return stating that he already had plans for dinner, but if Brandon wished to join him later at his home, he would look forward to it.

Brandon was welcomed with opened arms and a hearty bear hug. It was interesting that he felt comfort in such a show of affection from this man, when he would disdain it from almost anyone else. He always felt peace when he was in this house. There was no judgment of his past, only high expectations that Brandon hoped to one day live up to.

Lord Langdon sent him ahead to the library while he gave instructions to his butler that they weren't to be disturbed. Brandon walked over to the fireplace, where he leaned against the mantel. He kicked a lone piece of coal farther into the flames as his mind ran amok. Perhaps this was not such a good idea, after all.

He wanted to ask someone what it felt like to care about...to love...another person enough to want to marry her, to spend the rest of his life with her. He wondered what it would be like to wake up next to the same woman every day, breakfasting, dining and living with her for the rest of his life. He had always shuddered at the thought. But when that face belonged to Grace, it was not so hard to imagine. Indeed, every day had been a new experience with her.

He remembered once telling her he abhorred dull women. He smiled at the recollection of her tirade on the subject of trying to hold a conversation with a madman.

But he could not ask Lord Langdon those things; he was already supposed to
know
them. His mentor believed him to be happily invested in a loving engagement, with every plan to devote his life to his new bride-to-be. And his deep inner fear was that he already knew the answer to the questions and that love was planning on leaving him at the end of the week.

Brandon stood straighter when Lord Langdon entered the library. “I was glad to get your note today. You have been in my thoughts much of late. Is all well with you?”

“Perfectly,” he said tonelessly. “I had no taste for dancing this evening and hoped you might wish to continue our chess game.”

“Why don't we sit and enjoy the fire first?”

When they were seated, his lordship remained silent, prompting Brandon to begin the conversation. That was not what he wanted. He wished to become involved with thoughts not his own tonight. “My lord,” he finally started, “do you know a song called ‘Amazing Grace'?”

Langdon smiled at him and said, “Of course, why do you ask?”

“Of course?” Did everyone know it but him?

“It might not come your way often, Brandon. It is a hymn, mostly sung during church services.”

“I see. What self-respecting rake would be singing in church?”

“One who was a self-respecting gentleman.”

“Well, that certainly leaves me out. Shall we play chess?”

“The board is still set up. If you will bring the table here between us we may relax while we play.”

Brandon did so and for a quarter of an hour the two men moved pieces in relative silence. But he could not turn off his thoughts and made bad moves. When Lord Langdon quietly said, “Checkmate,” Brandon was not the least bit surprised.

His lordship still seemed to be perfectly content not saying a word, so Brandon tried nonchalantly to begin a conversation that might alleviate some of his disquiet.

“Sir, may I ask you a hypothetical question?”

“Certainly.”

“I am curious as to why a woman might have paste copies made of her jewelry.”

“The obvious answer would be for money.”

“I have thought of the obvious and it does not fit my—” he shook his head “—this situation. I wish to go beyond the obvious.”

He felt Lord Langdon's eyes scrutinizing his face, but did not look into them. “The need for money is not always dishonorable. Many women do it when they have run through allowances. They receive the needed cash, yet can still wear the jewels, so a husband might never know.”

“What if money was not an issue?”

“I know my dear Gwyneth used to often say she lived in fear she would lose some of her more valuable pieces, and she would suggest we have paste copies made of them all.” Langdon smiled. “Indeed, she once told me to only buy her paste jewels from then on.” He stared at Brandon. “Is safety the issue?”

“I suppose it could be. I had not thought it so, but perhaps.”

“Why not tell me what the issue
is,
to save time? You know you may talk to me about anything, son.”

“What if, hypothetically, she thought she might have to give the real ones back?”

He saw the surprise on Lord Langdon's face. “That adds a rather shadowy side to this hypothetical situation. I suppose she might opt to keep the real jewels and return the copies to the original owner.”

“Yes, that is a conclusion I reached, too.”

Lord Langdon rose and placed a hand on Brandon's shoulder. “My boy, it is time to empty your budget. Why don't you tell me all, from the beginning, and perhaps the truth this time?”

“I have made a mull of it, my lord, and you will not be proud of what you hear.”

Lord Langdon reseated himself. “Son, you once again mistake me for your father.” He put up a hand to stop Brandon's denial. “It was not a condescending statement, my boy. You have a lifetime of habits to break. I merely need to remind you every so often.”

Brandon smiled, but kept his eyes on the fire and said nothing.

“Being proud of you does not come and go. We all have our moments where we fall short of what we wish to be, make no mistake, but it does not break the bond. You may talk to me of anything. I am not so caper-witted as to have missed the undercurrents between you and Lady Grace during your visit. I accepted that it was not the proper time to discuss it.”

“I would never call you caper-witted, I assure you.” Brandon smiled again. “But I have tried to curb my more outrageous behavior to show you that you can, indeed, keep your stamp of approval on the work that Dennis and I do. The bumblebroth I have created might make you change your mind.”

“I pray one day, Brandon, you will understand the nature of real friendship. I know, I know, you do not presume to think yourself my friend—you have placed me on a pedestal and look to me as a mentor at most.” He leaned back in his chair. “But I will have you know that I liked Lady Grace immensely, and if I can help you in any way in your relationship with her, I would be honored.” There was a pregnant pause. “Am I correct in assuming this hypothetical woman is Lady Grace? I find it amusing. I cannot picture the lady in any one of the scenarios we discussed.”

“Nor I, but there has to be some explanation for it. She
has
commissioned copies to be made of the emeralds.”

“Start from the beginning, Brandon.”

He struggled with his thoughts for a moment. They had promised each other not to tell anyone else the truth about what started at the Blue Swan Inn, not even Grace's father or aunt. But Grace was getting ready to fall into trouble over his family jewels—he could feel it—and then she planned to leave him. He had never had this kind of a relationship before, either with Grace
or
Langdon, but he needed it now. So he shared the truth with him, watching for signs of disgust and disapproval, and waiting for remonstrance that never came.

“There you have it, my lord, the whole with no bark upon it.”

“It would certainly appear at first glance to be a deuce of a coil. But I must take a second and third glance.” Lord Langdon sat with his fingers steepled together. “Let me say from the beginning that I am proud of you for doing the honorable thing for Lady Grace, though it seems very unlike you to trust someone so implicitly, as you have trusted her. What made that so easy with this woman?”

“I have asked myself that many times. She is so very adamant concerning the things she feels strongly about. She was inordinately sorry for getting us into this position. She was not interested in marriage—she made that very clear. She also had the most uncompromising stand about telling a lie. I supposed if that were true in all our dealings I would have no fear as we went along.” He ran his hands through his hair as he said, “It is really inexplicable.”

“Yet you just explained it, and it makes perfect sense. And you still trust her without hesitation since you have discovered she was making paste copies of the emeralds?”

“Yes.”

“Then why the hypothetical questions now? What about it do you distrust?”

He spoke normally again. “First and foremost, I distrust her self-reliance. She could be in a miserable coil and not telling me.” He continued more softly. “Which leads to the real problem—I need to know that she trusts me, as well.” He got up and began to pace. “Why hasn't she told me her reason? I could only think of bad answers to that question, and I will not believe that of her. I hoped you might have different answers that would explain it all.”

“Perhaps the time has not been right for her to give that explanation.”

“I believed that, too, until today, when she told me that she thinks it time to break the engagement. She plans to leave me—” he coughed to cover his last word “—and go home by the end of the week.” He sat down again and put his elbows on his knees to cradle his chin in his hands. “And she does not trust me enough to tell me about the gems.”

“Is not the termination of the engagement what you had planned from the outset?”

“Yes, of course, but I—we have been enjoying the Season together. I thought we could wait a little longer.”

“Brandon, my boy, look at me.” When he did so, Lord Langdon continued. “Have you fallen in love with Lady Grace?”

He jumped up, no longer able to sit still. “What would I know of love? My one attempt at it ended rather badly, if you will recall.”

“Did you feel the same for your runaway bride as you do for Lady Grace?”

“No, nothing like!”

“Then you cannot compare them as your basis for understanding love.”

“It matters not. She would not love a rake. Her God would not let her. But if she did, I would not be worthy of her.”

“Do you think she would say that?”

“I cannot but think that she should.”

“Brandon, why did you ask me if I knew ‘Amazing Grace'?”

He laughed out loud. “You never fail to surprise me, sir. I have bared my soul to you and all you can think to ask me is that? I am indeed blessed in my benefactor!”

“Why, then?”

“It is silly, actually. Grace hums it often, and if we are with her sister or aunt, they chime in together. I asked Dennis once if he knew it and was surprised to find out that he did. I wondered if I was the only one ignorant of it. By your earlier answer, it would appear so.”

“How did you get Lady Grace to go along with a mock betrothal if, as you say, she would not lie?”

“She would not agree to it until I assured her that she had been compromised and that she was good and engaged whether she wanted it or not. If she did not choose to end the betrothal as we had discussed, we would have to be married.”

“But you had no fear she would
not
end it?”

“No, none.”

“Why did she refuse to lie, my boy?”

“I have thoroughly lost the train of thought in this conversation. Each question you ask has little to do with my concern.”

“Try me. I am not in my dotage yet.”

Brandon laughed outright. “Far from it, my lord!” He sat back down again. “In the event you did not notice, she is of a religious bent. Her God demands a high moral code. It quite amazed me, actually. She knows immediately whether something is right or wrong.”

“Did you not wonder why
I
knew the song?”

“No. My lord?”

“I am of the same ‘religious' bent, Brandon, and I have some serious explaining to do to God if you have never noticed that about me.”

“I have never doubted your word, your goodness or your fairness, my lord. That made you different than any other man in my life.”

“But you did not wonder why I trusted you enough to work with you on the orphanage projects, knowing your reputation.”

“On the contrary, I often wondered at it.”

Langdon sat on the edge of his chair so he could look into Brandon's eyes. “It is because I believed if someone trusted you enough in the good deeds you wished to accomplish, perhaps you would stop believing that everything you did was contemptible. If someone set the standard high enough for you to live up to, you would no longer live down at the lower standard.

“My boy, Lady Grace had to put the same trust in you as you put in her. Her only knowledge of a rake would have been, at the very least, bad. You could have made her and her sister the laughingstock of London for entrusting her reputation to you. You would have given the
ton
a nine-days wonder and Society would have loved you the more for it.

“I shall not begin proselytizing, Brandon, but you must never say you are unworthy of love, hers or any others'. We have been given the gift of grace from God. Not her God, not my God, but
the
God of all. He knows we cannot be flawlessly good of ourselves, but He loves us in spite of it. She and I know all about it because we have accepted that grace. We cannot be unworthy because we do not get what we deserve. That is why she trusts you, despite your past.”

“I do not precisely understand, sir,” Brandon said, rubbing his eyes. He wasn't sure he wanted to understand.

“No, I did not expect you to at this moment. All I want you to understand now is that Lady Grace may not love you. I, for one, have not yet reached a conclusion in either direction on that score. But if she did, she would never consider you unworthy.”