Wolfsgate Page 30

  “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 appreciat
e 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.”

  “I did get that impression,” Brandon said. “But I didn’t think it ran so deep.”

  “It’s a serious problem, sir. One your cousin is not happy about. In fact, they left London earlier than usual this season because of it.”

  “Ah, that must have been a blow, imagine the shame.” Brandon rapped the table with his knuckles.

  “Seems she was in debt before they married, and lo and behold, all her debts were cleared immediately after.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. However, just before you came back from the dead, her debt mounted once again, and roughly half of it was cleared. The rest still stands demanding to be paid.” Davidson lifted his mug to his lips and drank, his eyes beaming at Brandon.

  His manservant brushed down the back of his frock coat then smoothed the fabric down over his shoulders, but Brandon’s attention was riveted on Justine across their chamber. She sat at her vanity table in her corner dressing room opening her perfume bottles, a robe tied carelessly about her, her thick hair falling loose down her back.

  “Leave.” He jerked his chin sharply at the servant. The young man bowed and swiftly quit his dressing room.

  Brandon’s pulse hammered as he watched Justine trail a small glass wand up and down an arm, then around her throat daubing her skin. She dipped the wand in the bottle once more and slid the wand down her other arm. The scent of roses filled the air. How could the scent of a common flower be so bloody intoxicating?

  He grabbed the jewelry box from his dresser, his hand sweeping down his necktie as he approached her. She met his gaze in her looking glass offering him a small smile. The loose robe slipped down her arms as he moved back her hair from one shoulder and grazed her soft skin with his lips. “Beautiful.”

  “It’s only roses, nothing extraordinary.”

  “On you, that’s exactly what it is.” He planted a kiss behind her ear, and she quivered under his gentle touch. He slid the robe higher over her bare shoulders and cleared his throat. “I have news, my inquiries in town bore fruit. William is not in debt.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh. But then…?”

  “Amanda is.” Brandon’s eyes relaxed over Justine as she absorbed the news.

  “Amanda?”

  “For years now, general overspending and then more at the gaming tables. Her father was always a very conservative fellow, I can’t imagine he would put up with this from his daughter. Social disaster. I don’t think their living could cover a Duchess’s spending. William, personally, has no debt. Never has.”

  She turned in her dainty chair to face him. “This has been about Amanda all along?”

  “He must have promised to save her from herself. I wonder, she agreed to marry him thinking she would continue to live the good life without the pressure of her father hanging over her, and with William to handle her mess. William has always enjoyed the finer things in life, but not to excess. That’s why I found his need for so much money curious. My thoughts also went to his possibly needing capital for a new business venture, but he was always careful never to overextend himself. Charles confirmed to me that William has not been engaged in any new, overly-ambitious enterprises of late.”

  “Strange that he would marry such a self-indulgent creature,” said Justine.

  “Love is a great tormentor,” Brandon said, his eyes fell to her mouth. “But our local Duchess is unable free herself from the bonds of her passion, and William’s resources have their limits. It makes sense that he would need to dip into mine.”

  “He’s been protecting her all along.”

  “Like the good husband that he is.”

  “Yes.”

  The muffled sounds of curt voices and bustling footsteps boomed in the hallways. Musical instruments being loosened and prepared echoed from downstairs.

  “Damn, I don’t like all this commotion in my house.”

  Justine laughed. “Oh, it will all be over by this evening,” she said turning back to face the looking glass.

  He stilled, something in his chest tugged at her words. They were eerily akin to what she had told him earlier in the week, weren’t they?

  “We can discuss all this again, make a decision after the party.”

  “It’s not a ball, Brandon, nor is it a dinner. It’s a tea. A formal one, but only a tea. Cling to that.”

  “I shall cling to a great many things,” he murmured. He placed the jewelry box on the table before her. “This is for you,” he said, his eyes remaining on hers in the glass. “Merry Christmas, Lady Graven.”

  Her eyes fell to the box, her brow pinched together.

  “Open it,” he said at her side, fingering a lock of her hair at her shoulder. She snapped open the hinge, pulled back the lid. The necklace gleamed at her in the candlelight.

  Justine’s eyes widened as she fingered the bright green stones and the crystal clear diamonds. “You don’t have to do this, Brandon,” her voice shook.

  “Give my wife a Christmas present?”

  “It’s very…”

  “Breathtaking, like you.”

  “Brandon—”

  “Do you like it?” She slid her eyes closed for a moment. “It’s Christmas, sweet girl.”

  “You’re being kind.”

  Brandon let out a laugh as he took the necklace from the box. “Kind would be offering you a cup of hot chocolate or an extra wool blanket on a cold winter’s night.” She drew her hair out of his way, and he laid the necklace around her throat and clasped it there. He brushed his fingers across the nape of her neck and planted a soft kiss there.

  “You honor me,” she said, a tremor in her voice.

  “The honor is mine.” His fingers lingered at her throat, traced across her collarbone, then drifted over her bare shoulder. She made a slight noise in the back of her throat. “It’s beautiful, Justine. You’re beautiful.” His voice came out hoarse. Her wet eyes held his in the looking glass, and her lips parted.

  “‘Beggin’ your pardon.” Lizzie hesitated in the doorway.

  Justine’s hand darted to his at her sho
ulder. “Go, Brandon. Lizzie needs to deal with my unruly hair.” She wiped at her eyes.

  He smirked and leaned in close to her. “I like your hair unruly,” he whispered in her ear as he ran the back of his knuckles gently down the side of her face. He left the women in the dressing room, but turned to take a final glimpse of his wife’s reflection in the looking glass.

  Lizzie ran a brush through a thick strand of that tousled hair. Brandon’s heart beat heavy and full inside his chest. Justine’s dark eyes were luminous, her cheeks flushed, his necklace sparkled at her throat.

  Justine smoothed down the silk of her dark green gown. She was continuing in the Graven family tradition this afternoon, and a flare of pride glowed inside her that she could do this for Brandon.

  “I love you.”

  Her hand went to the emeralds and diamonds at her throat. The back of her eyes stung as his precious words rushed through her. He was only being comforting and kind, wasn’t he? They were good friends and close companions. Anything else would be…

  She knew what it would be, so she decided she wouldn’t think about it. Not now at least.

  “There, finished.” Lizzie released the last ringlet and arranged it over her back.

  Justine smiled at their reflection in the large mirror. Would she ever do this again? Prepare for an evening’s entertainment here at Wolfsgate to be at Brandon’s side as his Lady Graven?

  The girl sighed. “You look beautiful, milady.”

  Justine blinked at her. “Thank you, Lizzie.”

  “Much prettier than Mrs. Treharne could ever be, even though she has that fairy princess hair and those doll-like eyes. You’re glowing, you are, ‘cause you have a good heart, and it shows. ‘Tis rare, that. I was only in service at her house a short time, but she seldom had a kind word. I’m right glad I had to quit working there last year.”