Wolfsgate (24 page)

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Authors: Cat Porter

Tags: #Historical Romance Drama

BOOK: Wolfsgate
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Justine smiled and reciprocated their greetings. Brandon stood beside her and nodded at them stiffly a faint smile icing his lips then melting just as quickly as he turned away from them. The three young sisters blushed and frowned under his dismissive expression. After the barrage of amiable sentiments was completed, Justine and Brandon turned to face the great saloon. There they were: Amanda, William, Andrew, Richard, and Mr. Blakelock, Amanda and Andrew’s father. Their fine clothes accented their stiff postures, and all of them regarded Brandon and Justine with different degrees of keen interest and irritation.

Amanda’s blue eyes swept over Brandon from head to toe and then rested on Justine, one elegant eyebrow arching higher than the other. Justine exhaled as they approached them. Amanda’s pale golden hair was in a loose chignon, with long tight curls draped over her shoulders and falling down her back. Her deep crimson silk dress fell over her slender curves in the modern free style drawn in at the waist which made her porcelain skin positively glow. A matching red ribbon was laced around her neck in a trendy tribute to the current sufferings of the French nobility. Amanda was certainly a provocative figure
à la mode
this evening. Justine’s ribs squeezed tightly as she bowed before them, and they returned the gesture.

“Brandon, it is very good to have you home and safe once more,” Amanda remarked, her voice glossy and fluid. Her fingertips touched his arm, then quickly retreated.

“Thank you, Mrs. Treharne,” Brandon said. “It is good to be home.” Her lips pursed together for just a moment.

William came forward. “Brandon, don’t you look the picture of health? Quite a change from the last time I saw you. Married life must agree with you.”

“Yes, it certainly does.” Brandon’s eyes narrowed, his scars taut and pronounced. “I’m sure you are quite familiar with that feeling.” Amanda’s eyes darted up at him. William’s searing gaze settled on Justine, and she raised her head to meet it.

“Yes, congratulations are in order, my boy!” Mr. Blakelock broke the thick silence. He shook Brandon’s hand.

“Thank you, sir,” Brandon said.

“It’s a pity your parents aren’t here to see you well and finally settled with a fine wife.”

“I agree. They would have been pleased.”

William snorted, and Justine averted her gaze. Brandon leaned in towards his cousin. “You will be civil this evening at the very least, do you understand? Especially towards my wife.” William tilted his head, a hint of amusement sweeping his features. Amanda quirked an eyebrow at Justine, then just as quickly turned away. Andrew remained to the side, his arms crossed at his chest, a muscle at his jaw twitched, his blue eyes positively icy.

“Nice to see you my dear,” murmured Mr. Blakelock to Justine. “It has been too long.”

“Thank you, sir.” Justine bowed. “Indeed, it has been.”

Andrew, his cheeks ruddy, stepped up and mumbled his hellos at Justine and Brandon. Brandon nodded at him and immediately tugged at Justine’s arm moving her away before she could complete her greeting. He led her to Richard, who was slumped in an armchair slurping from a glass.

“Hello Uncle.”

“Well, look at you.” Richard smirked. “Dressed and presentable for the party!”

“I could say the same for you,” Brandon said. Richard scowled and waved his wine glass at his nephew.

“Hello stepfather,” Justine said. Richard only continued drinking from his glass.

“Enjoying your new home, Uncle?” Brandon asked.

“Bah!”

“There you are, old boy!” A clear, deep voice hung in the air. Charles Montclare led a trail of several other men who Justine recognized as old friends of Brandon’s and William’s.

Charles took Justine’s hand in his and turned her slightly to present her to the rest of the group. “Stephen, Matthew, Thomas, may I present the lovely Lady Justine.”

The mens’ eyes widened, and they smiled at her bowing their heads. She remembered each one of them as rough and tumble young men, but now they were all polished gentlemen.

“Ma’am.” Stephen bowed slightly before her, his eyes dancing.

“Damn ye Graven, very nice,” Matthew murmured. “William’s stepsister, eh? Forgot about her.”

Justine’s cheeks reddened.

“I’ll be damned,” said Thomas. “My sister’s around here somewhere. She’ll want to see you, Lady Graven, to be sure.”

“Georgina is here?” asked Justine. “How wonderful! I hoped she would be. We haven’t seen each other in ages.”

“She’s complained of it regularly. She’s been at our sister’s in Devon for quite some time. Only just returned. I’ll go find her.”

“Yes, yes, go.” A grin illuminated Charles’s handsome features. He kissed Justine’s hand, his gaze unfurling over her from head to toe. “Lilac certainly suits you, Lady Justine.” Just as he released her hand a strong arm wrapped around her waist.

“Enough, you rake, making a show of my wife,” Brandon said. “Some things don’t change.”

“Watch it, I’ve gotten worse,” Charles replied. Stephen and Matthew laughed. “Thank God you’re back, Graven. These two have been driving me mad.”

Justine glanced up at Brandon. He did not seem overwhelmed or bothered by all the fuss made over him. Brandon had once been the center of attention in local society, and his long absence had no doubt put a damper on the social activities of a great many, especially the ladies.

Justine glanced about the rooms. Everywhere there were liquor, games of chance, self-important men, and pretty and eager females. Would all this excitement tonight make him uncomfortable and feed into his need for chemical reinforcement? Or perhaps it would feed into a vanity that had suffered long years of neglect, but had now ripened once again?

Justine leaned on Brandon’s arm and lifted her mouth to his ear. “I see Georgina. I’m going over to say hello.” He squeezed her hand before releasing it.

She left the men to their animated conversation and darted through the crowd. She looked forward to spending time with Georgina tonight, to chatter and laugh with another woman her age. She had missed her friend’s companionship dearly.

Georgina and Justine had kept in touch off and on over the years, but they hadn’t seen each other since before William’s marriage to Amanda. Georgina had been absent from her country home for long stretches, but they had communicated via the occasional letter, Georgina amusing her to no end over her adventures in London and Devon.

On her journey through the crowd, several ladies stopped her and congratulated her on her marriage to Lord Graven. Justine conversed with them, then begged off with the usual pleasantries and continued on her course for Georgina.

“So, you’re in love with him?” Andrew’s voice was low, his breath on her shoulder. His face strained close to hers, the crowd moved and pressed around them. “You must answer,” he demanded. He gulped wine from a glass, strands of his strawberry blond hair falling over his glassy blue eyes.

“I will not,” she replied.

“Ah, yes, what goes on between a husband and wife—none of my business.” He licked his lips. “And to think I put my life on hold for you.”

“I never asked you to.” Justine raised her chin. “I made it perfectly clear that we had no future together quite some time ago, Mr. Blakelock.”

Andrew scowled. “You had led me to believe otherwise.”

There had been a time when Justine fantasized about marrying Andrew and spending the rest of her life with him. Now their few stolen kisses and innocent hand-holding on clandestine early morning walks through the gardens and about the hillside belonged not only to the past, but to another lifetime altogether. Everything had tilted forever for Justine the moment Brandon had bedded her. New and intense feelings had swerved her emotions into a limbo of the unknown and the intricately tangled, like the tenacious flowering vines on her garden wall.

She turned on her heel to face him. “Please, stop this. Please.”

“I must tell you, I’m engaged to Mariah Marchmain,” Andrew said. “Charming girl. Utterly smitten with me, has been for a long time now. Ah, good, here she comes.”

Justine’s eyes widened as Andrew held out his hand to his fiancée who smiled brightly, her dimples showing. Her pale skin seemed even more delicate by her white and gold trimmed gown.

“Dearest, you know Lady Graven.” Andrew’s eyes remained on Justine’s.

“Of course I do!” Mariah let out a giggle, obviously unaware of his ironic tone.

“Young love, it seems, is sprouting all over the county, Mariah,” said Andrew, his hand at his fiancée’s elbow. Justine and Mariah smiled at each other.

“Mr. Blakelock has told me just now about your engagement,” Justine said. “Congratulations to you both. Have you set a date?”

“Oh, no, not yet. Very soon though.” Mariah shrugged her shoulders. Andrew brooded over his wine glass. Mariah suddenly inhaled deeply. “Dearest, won’t you come? The orchestra is beginning to play, and I do so wish to dance.” She twisted her fingers together.

“Of course, my darling.” Andrew took her arm in his. They disregarded Justine and strode off towards the dance floor. A servant filled the sudden void with a tray of red punch. “Perfect,” she curled her fingers around a cool cup and savored the sweet refreshment.

“Lady of the Manor, eh?” That acerbic voice she knew so well slithered over her from behind. “Is that what we’re calling it now?” William’s dark eyes simmered over her, his thin lips set in a line. Unfortunately, the slight effect of the punch was not enough to dull her senses just yet.

“I want to know how you did it, love. You seem to have him wrapped around your little finger already.” He leaned in closer. “Or is it around your quim?”

Justine took in a slight breath. She kept her gaze riveted on Andrew and Mariah dancing. Mariah seemed as if she were a pixie floating in the sweet air around her fiancée.

“Wherever did you get those earrings?” William stared at the spray of rubies dangling from her ears. “Those are Aunt Caroline’s. I’ll be damned, where did you—?” He let out a hiss. Justine drained her punch. He took the glass from her hand and grabbed her elbow pulling her behind a column out of traffic’s way. “What else did you hide in that bloody house?”

“Lord Jeremy gave them to me to keep safe for his son,” Justine replied.

William leaned in closer. “Did he now?”

“It’s never enough for you is it? You pillaged that house and his bank account over and over again. I wonder, do your wife and your father-in-law know of any of this?”

“Sir?”

They both glared at the servant who held a silver tray filled with used glasses. William released her arm and deposited her cup on the tray. The servant receded.

“You leave my wife out of it,” William said.

“Most happily.”

The music swelled once more and people rushed towards the dance floor. William crossed his arms, the edges of his lips tipped up. She smelled the liquor and the tobacco on his breath mixed with his spicy cologne. “Tell me, Lady Graven, how was your first time together?” The back of Justine’s throat stung. William let out a low chuckle. “He must have been like a ravenous wolf after so many years without a woman, and to now have a wife available to him?” William barked out a laugh. The couples next to them glanced over. William smiled easily.

“Or perhaps he was too intoxicated with his restorative to take the necessary actions required?” he whispered by her ear. “Pity. God knows what is really going through his muddled brain though, eh? He must be damaged after all that time in hospital, and I don’t mean only the limp and the scars. Shame that. Definitely not the same Brandon. He seems a bit, I don’t know…gloomy, stiff. But it’s obvious to me there is a volatile creature lurking inside. I’d watch your step with him.”

“Such brotherly concern,” Justine said. “You expected us to be miserable? You would have liked that, wouldn’t you?”

William’s dark eyes pierced hers. “Are you foolish enough to think he trusts you? He’ll take his fill of you, then no doubt he’ll tire of you and find a mistress soon enough. Won’t be difficult. Look at all the attention he’s getting this evening. You’re no match for that. Few are.”

Justine raised her chin. “I do believe your wife is first in line on that score.” The moment the words spilled from her mouth Justine regretted them.

William followed Justine’s gaze to the other side of the dance floor where Amanda was in an animated conversation with Brandon and Thomas. Her face beamed as she spoke, the laughter flowing from her with ease. Brandon’s relaxed face smiled down at her as Thomas erupted into cackles at a witty remark she must have made. Amanda’s hand flew to Brandon’s upper arm and rested there.

William cleared his throat. “I saw you just now with Andrew, does your husband know about that?”

“Yes, he does. In fact, I was just congratulating Andrew and Mariah on their engagement.”

Lilting music, dancers’ clacking steps, ringing laughter and chatter filled the hall, but William and Justine remained standing side by side silently witnessing Amanda and Brandon from across the enormous room.

Amanda, smiling brilliantly, her cheeks flushed, was focused on Brandon alone. Thomas drifted away from them. Brandon leaned over closing the distance between them and whispered in her ear as Amanda’s eyebrows lifted, her delicate neck slanted. A knot twisted inside Justine. She glanced up at William whose body had grown rigid.

Justine had to say it, it was too fitting. “They really do make an attractive couple. Just as I remember.” William let out a curse under his breath.

“Will you be monopolizing your sister all evening, Treharne?” Charles’s smooth voice cut between them. He grinned and bowed his head at Justine.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Montclare.”

“Do go find another amusement then. You’ve kept her to yourself long enough. Years, in fact, old boy. How overprotective can a brother be?”

“She’s all yours.” William left them.

“Was he being annoying, Lady Graven?”

“No more than usual.”

Charles tilted his head at her. “You seem tense, my dear.” He offered her a cup of punch. “Perhaps I can provide relief?”

Justine laughed. It felt good to laugh for a change this evening. She glanced at Charles as she sipped from the glass. It also felt nice to be flirted with rather than accosted, to be regarded as a lustrous pearl and not a mundane irritation. “Was this a rescue mission, then?” she asked.

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