Wolfsgate (41 page)

“Yes, that’s it, you see?” A strained smile etched over her mouth, her voice controlled. “What you’re feeling for me is obligation, but you don’t owe me anything. You must let me go.”

“I can’t do that, Jus. My life does not makes any sense to me without you in it. I cannot pick up where I left off years ago, and I don’t want to. I thought revenge would make it all meaningful, but that was foolish, childish even. I want to be with you. Have our life, together.”

“You should not have to settle for someone like me, Lord Graven.”

“Someone like you?” He let out a strangled laugh. “Someone like you? You are strong and alive, as hardy as these evergreens under all this snow and ice. Through the bitterness of every winter, the wilting heat of summer year after year, you fucking persevere, you endure. Your color remains fixed.”

Her eyes slid closed and her body tightened as if his very words had slammed up against her and she had to fight their force. She clutched at the cloak around her. The heartbreak stamped on her face was that of the lost, sorrowful little girl she once was. Both at her mother’s funeral, and then years later when she had gripped his arm at Annie’s burial, choking back her tears.

He was desperate now to fold her in his arms, press her to his chest, and expel every last vestige of hopelessness from her and fill her with his hope, his belief in her, in them.

“My Lady Graven, you are not alone anymore.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “I’ve always been alone, and I accepted it as my destiny a long time ago. I had grown quite accustomed to it until you relieved me of it for this small while, and it was so, so very lovely. Yet somehow I always knew it could never last, that sort of happiness could never be mine.”

“No.” The savage tone in Brandon’s voice made her eyes flare.

“Everyone leaves me, Brandon. My parents, Annie, Lord Jeremy, you, when we thought you were dead.”

“I came back, you brought me back.”

She nodded, the tears spilling from her eyes. “You want to do the right thing, and I am grateful for it. However, over time your disappointment will eat at you, and I couldn’t bear it if we were to only coexist politely leading separate lives in the same house or if you were to continually punish me somehow without being able to help it. Nor could I could bear it if later you found someone else, someone better. She does exist somewhere out there beyond Wolfsgate, and you deserve the chance to find her. Please, Brandon. You know I’m right. Let me go. It is for the best.”

“There can never be anyone else. You have me. I am your husband. You have me, Jus, and there’s an end to it.”

A cold wind gusted over them, and she gulped at the air. Her strained gaze darted over the trees as if they were pressing in on her, crowding her.

“Let’s go home,” he said.

“Brandon—”

Give her a challenge, dare her.

“I am canceling that ridiculous Christmas party.”

“No! Don’t do that.” Justine’s hands tightened into fists at her side.

“Of course I am. You are in no fit state to play hostess to a house full of idiots celebrating a holiday, and I could care less.”

“No, you cannot cancel it. You know how important this event is for Wolfsgate.”

“And?”

“And I want to do it.”

“Why?” He shifted his weight on his legs, his hands on his waist. “You just told me you were leaving me.”

She leveled her eyes at him.“Do you want William to think he has brought you to your knees?”

“Bloody hell.” Brandon’s hard gaze bore down on her. “Look at you. You’ve had a lifetime’s practice at soldiering on, haven’t you? It’s how you’ve survived.” He nodded. “That’s what you know. Yes, just as I said—evergreen.”

“William is expecting an answer to his ultimatum at the party, is he not? Are you going to give him the money he wants?”

“Of course not. He keeps using the fine notions of family honor and reputation as his almighty weapons, but we’ll use it against him. No matter what money he gets it is never enough for him. Why the great need every so often? Amanda had a healthy dowry from what I remember, and his own income was good. He continues to be a success from what I’ve heard. There has to be a better reason why he wants my inheritance at his fingertips. I’m not convinced it’s only a matter of his childhood rivalry with me. I’ve been making inquiries in the village and in town about his expenses. I should know more within the week.”

She chewed on her lip, her hands clasped together.

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re sure about the party?”

“Quite sure.” She wiped a stray lock of hair from her face. “I’ve been looking forward to it. We can discuss all this again, make a decision, after the party.”

“Very well. Let us go home then.” He stretched out his hand to her. “It’s quite cold out here now.” His voice was low, gentle. Justine’s weary gaze darted up at him for a moment and then rested on his hand. She took a step forward and placed her hand in his. Brandon exhaled, the tension dissolving from his frame as her cold, slim fingers settled in his palm. He rubbed them, warmed them, entwined them with his.

He led his wife out from the snow-covered trees and brought her back to the house.

BRANDON’S GREAT GRANDMOTHER
had made the Wolfsgate Christmas Tea a tradition, and his mother had succeeded in making it a cherished and highly anticipated event on the social calendar of the local nobility. Lord Jeremy had canceled it after his wife’s passing, but now with a new Lord Graven in his place and a new wife at his side it needed to be done, and Justine had seen to it with a great deal of satisfaction. She had enlisted Georgina to help her plan a Christmas Tea that Lady Caroline herself would have been proud of.

“I can’t say I remember too much about her parties,” Justine said, “just the fuss and clatter about the house for days and days. We were so young then, but I do remember how the tree cuttings smelled so fresh in every room and everything sparkled, and Lady Caroline sparkled right along with it.”

“Well, Lady Justine, this is now your party. You will leave your very own sparkle on it.”

“I hope so,” Justine murmured as she reviewed the list of the silver.

“You will.” Georgina eyed her. “You seem a bit distracted.”

“There’s so much to do.”

“Not to worry. You have me, my friend.” Georgina winked at her as she straightened her shoulders. “Now, then, we’ve got a menu to decide on, silver to choose and have polished, holly branches and garlands and swags of greenery to arrange for, and on and on we go. Oh dash, you know a sugar sculpture would be fantastic as a centerpiece. A replica of the house, maybe a statue of Apollo?”

“No. Too ostentatious.” Justine handed her Taggart’s menu notes to review.

“Come now, Lord Graven’s in the sugar trade, after all.” Georgina scanned the menu.

“Let’s focus on the greenery and the fruit bowls. I’ll give you free reign to festoon every painting, doorway and window in the house.”

Georgina shot her a look over the menu. “Promise?”

Justine smiled. “Absolutely.”

“The necklace is ready, Lord Graven.”

The jeweler placed a leather box ceremoniously on the counter before Brandon and snapped back the top with a flourish. The delicate arrangement of small diamonds and emeralds glittered up at Brandon. When he first saw it last week, he knew it would lay beautifully against the exquisite bones at the base of Justine’s throat, one of his favorite places on her body. Gliding his fingers over those fascinating, smooth hollows made her pulse charge to life. And his. Every time.

“Will that be all, sir?” The jeweler’s voice deflated his thoughts.

“Yes, that will do for now.” Brandon tapped his fingers on the counter.

He couldn’t wait to clasp it around her neck this afternoon before the party and see her smile again. Smile for him. All week she had been avoiding him. She had tried to sleep in her old bedchamber, but he wouldn’t permit it. Instead, she woke up very early every morning quitting their room as he slept. No matter, Brandon was determined to keep Justine focused in the present with him. His thoughts ran crystal clear on this point. He would not allow her to retreat into shame and self-loathing, and he needed to assure her he had every intention of keeping her as his wife.

Although the knowledge of her and Martin stung, it was actually a relief to finally know the truth. He was determined to put the incident away and make it not matter.

The jeweler snapped the box shut jolting Brandon’s attention back to his purchase. Mr. Easton placed the leather box in a small pouch and slid it towards him.

“You will send the bill to my attention, Mr.Easton, and I will pay it directly.”

“Very good, sir.” Easton pursed his lips together. “If only my other clients were as considerate.” The jeweler grimaced slightly as he rubbed his hands together. “Forgive me sir, I would not mention it, but there was a time or two when Lady Graven would take care of Mrs. Treharne’s account with us.”

Justine had once paid for Amanda’s purchases?

Brandon’s eyes narrowed. “Come again, sir?” Easton’s pale cheeks reddened under Brandon’s severe gaze.

Mr. Easton leaned over the table. “Mrs. Treharne’s account has been in arrears for quite some time. I have tried communicating with the lady, but alas, she has not responded. I fear I must take some other action shortly which, of course, I would rather not do as I have never had such issues with your family, milord.” The jeweler tilted his head at Brandon. “It is indeed an honor that a fine lady such as Mrs. Treharne enjoys the wonderful selection of jewels I offer, and as a lady of such fine taste it is perfectly understandable that she cannot help herself when she sees a piece she is particularly fond of. I would not wish to deny Mrs. Treharne such a pleasure in future, you understand, sir.”

“No, of course not,” Brandon said. “Mrs. Treharne comes here herself and makes purchases? Not Mr. Treharne?”

“We haven’t seen Mr. William Treharne at our shop for quite some time.”

Brandon shifted his weight onto his good leg and gripped his cane tighter. “May I see the bills, Mr. Easton? Perhaps I could then explain to my cousin the state of affairs, and this matter can be quickly resolved.” Brandon’s blood raced with the possibilities within reach.

“Sir, I do not wish—”

“Mr. Easton, let me assure you I appreciate your taking me into your confidence,” Brandon said, his voice low. “This will stay between us, won’t it? I sincerely hope to assist my cousin in any way I can.”

“Indeed, sir.” Mr. Easton’s face beamed as he pressed two fingers to his lips bowing his head for a moment. He disappeared into a back room and swiftly returned with a sheaf of papers. “The total amount is just here.” He sniffed as his bony finger pointed to an absurdly high sum. Brandon wanted to laugh out loud, but he reigned in the reflex.

He only offered the grateful man a brief smile. “Very good, Mr. Easton. You shall be hearing from my cousin shortly, I warrant.”

Mr. Easton’s eyes bulged. “Thank you, my lord.”

With Justine’s gift in his possession and a smirk on his lips, Brandon crossed the noisy square dodging the hawkers and the beggars, sidestepped the large patches of ice and the murky black puddles on the road and finally reached the tavern. He threw open the doors, and the yeasty smell of ale and a blast of hot, humid air bombarded him. His eyes caught Davidson’s in the far left corner who gestured at him.

“Tell me,” Brandon said, settling on a bench. “Because I think I know what you’re going to say.”

Davidson let out a dry laugh. “Ah, milord, don’t spoil my damned fun now.”

Brandon leaned forward, his forearms pressed into the wooden table. “I was just at the jeweler’s. It seems the poor man’s been having a terrible problem with Amanda Treharne’s credit, yet he says my cousin has not stepped foot in there for ages.”

“Ale, sir?” asked an eager girl hovering at his side.

“No,” Brandon said without even a glance. The girl shuffled off.

Davidson slapped his hand on the table and leaned in closer to Brandon. “The lady’s in debt all over the village,” he said in a low tone. “Finery for herself, finery for her house, not to mention the card games at every party she attends. She’s wildly popular there.”