A Scandalous Past (Regency Romance, Book 4) (36 page)

Her heart was breaking. “Brendan—”

“I know it will be hard, Cordie. But we
can’t risk it. The only thing that will make this bearable for me
is knowing that I’ve protected you from my fate.”

Cordie swiped at the tears that streamed
down her face. How would she go on without him? “I can go home to
my family,” she offered, though it was the last place she wanted to
be.

Brendan shook his head. “No matter what
happens to me, love, I’ll never let you live under the same roof as
that woman ever again.”

Cordie closed her eyes.  She loved him
so desperately. The idea of being away from him was the most
painful thing she’d ever contemplated. He wrapped his arms around
her and held her tight. “I’m so sorry, Cordie. I can send you to
stay with Masten for a while. God knows he owes me.”

Cordie shook her head. “I’ll go stay with
Livvie. She won’t ask any questions.”

“No.”

“Why not?” she asked, glancing over her
shoulder at
him.                        

“I don’t want you anywhere near
Kelfield.”

“Brendan!” she chastised. He knew how
important Olivia was to her.

His hold tightened. “It’s not the duchess.
It’s not even Kelfield. But Haversham is a friend of the duke’s and
I’d rather he not be around you.”

Foolish man! Cordie turned in his arms and
pulled his head down for a kiss. “Brendan Reese! You are my life.
That dance didn’t mean anything. He was keeping Brookfield at bay,
is all—”

“Early on you fancied him,” he said sourly.
“And when he thinks you’ve left me—”

Cordie kissed him again. “It won’t matter,”
she vowed.

His arms tightened around her waist and she
wished they could stay like this forever. “I won’t see you hurt,
Cordie, not ever. Even if I’m…
gone
, you can’t trust the
man.”

“Leaving you hurts,” she told him.

“I’ll find the blackmailer. I’ll find the
letters. I swear it.”

***

The trip to Hampshire was a blur. Cordie
kept remembering the look in Brendan’s eyes when he said his last
goodbye and shut the carriage door, sending her off before dawn
broke. It would be a miracle if her quickly scrawled noted reached
Livvie before she did.

She watched the landscape pass outside the
carriage window and drew herself up into a ball. She’d never felt
so alone, and she’d never prayed so long or so vehemently about
anything in her life, but the journey to Brockenhurst had been a
long, one-sided conversation with God. There was nothing else she
could do. Being powerless was unnerving.

When their speed slowed, Cordie peered out
the window again. A large baroque mansion grew nearer with her
approach. When the coach pulled into the drive, she spotted Livvie
and Kelfield waiting out front and Cordie almost burst into tears.
With nowhere else to go, she prayed again that Everett Place would
be a safe haven.

           
The coach rambled to a stop and the door opened. Instead of a
footman standing before her, Cordie was surprised to see the Duke
of Kelfield holding the door himself. He smiled, though it didn’t
quite reach his eyes, and concern was etched across his brow. “Lady
Clayworth.”

She nearly choked, hearing her name, hearing
her husband’s name. “Your Grace,” she answered, accepting his
offered arm.  Before she’d even gone two steps, Livvie threw
her arms around her neck.

“Oh, Cordie! I’m so glad to see you. So glad
you’ve come to stay with us.”

Cordie hugged her back for all she was
worth. It was the first relief she’d felt since before the Astwick
soiree. She stepped back, smiling at her friend. Livvie looked
healthy and happy, but different. And the hug had been different
too. Cordie glanced at the duchess’ abdomen. “Good heavens, Livvie!
You’re showing.” Something she could very well be facing alone, if
things turned out poorly.

The smile that spread across her friend’s
face stretched from ear to ear. “We’re very happy,” Livvie gushed,
linking her arm with Cordie’s.

Both of their lives had changed so much in
the last year. It was amazing they even recognized each
other.  Cordie blinked back her tears.

Do let me show you around,” Livvie said as
her hazel eyes met Cordie’s.

She knew. They’d known each other every day
of their lives and Livvie knew there was something wrong. Cordie
shook a head at her own foolishness. Of course Livvie knew there
was something wrong. She’d traveled all night alone and had shown
up at the Kelfields’ home uninvited. The simplest of simpletons
would know.

“That does sound lovely.” She forced a smile
to her face and stood up straight. Brendan expected more from her,
and she couldn’t fail him in the only task he’d given her.

Livvie linked her arm with Cordie’s and lead
her towards the side of the house. “My mother-in-law breeds sheep
dogs. Can you believe it?”

“Heavens!” she gasped. Her friend was
deathly afraid of dogs, always had been. “How do you bear it?”

Livvie smiled as they approached a small
garden. “I’m trying to be a bit more brave. My step-daughter adores
the creatures, and she’s only five.”

They stopped and Livvie bent forward to
smell a rose bush that came to her waist. Then she glanced back and
assessed Cordie silently. She saw a number of questions cross her
friend’s face.

Cordie smiled tightly and took a deep
breath, searching for something to say. “Have you heard anything
from Phoebe?”

Livvie nodded. “She does not particularly
care for Tristan, which is hard to believe. He’s always been my
favorite of your brothers.”

“Apparently he terrified her,” Cordie
replied, relieved that Livvie didn’t seem anxious to delve into the
reasons for her impromptu visit.

Livvie giggled. “I can’t imagine him
terrifying anyone.”

“Mama!” a little raven-haired girl called,
running up the path towards them.  Then she hurled herself
against Livvie’s legs.

The duchess smiled indulgently at the girl
and smoothed the hair from the child’s face. “Poppy Everett, how
may times have I told you that running is not ladylike?”

“Thirty-five?” the girl asked
innocently.

“Make it thirty-six.” Livvie dropped her
hand to the child’s shoulder. “Let me introduce you to my dearest
friend, Poppy. This is Lady Clayworth. She’s going to stay with us
for a while.”

Poppy’s silver eyes widened, then she
dropped a very clumsy courtesy. “Hello, Lady Clayworth.”

“Hello, Poppy,” Cordie answered. “I
understand you like sheep dogs.”

The girl’s face broke out into a wide grin
and she nodded eagerly before turning her attention back to Livvie.
“Grandmama says she thinks a new litter is coming. She said I had
to ask you if it was all right for me to stay with her.”

Livvie furrowed her brow. “Poppy,” she
began.

“Please, Mama! I want to see the
puppies.”

“All right,” the duchess sighed and then
laughed as the girl took off at a run in the other direction.
“Poppy, no running! And do listen to your grandmother.”

The humor of the exchange did not escape
Cordie. “Thirty-seven times now.”

Livvie laughed. “She’s so like her
father.”

Cordie linked her arm with Livvie’s. If she
couldn’t be with Brendan, she was glad she was here. “She calls you
‘Mama’?”

“Would you believe her own mother abandoned
her and ran off to Italy? Poppy’s such a sweetheart, I can’t
imagine how anyone could do such a thing. I can’t believe that her
mother loves her or she never would have left her in the first
place. So I don’t mind that she calls me, ‘Mama’.  Someone
should fill that role for her.”

Cordie touched a hand to her belly. Dear
God, she’d left her husband. What would she do if Brendan couldn’t
retrieve the letters? What would she do if she lost him
forever?

Nine days.

It had been nine days since he’d seen her
pretty face. Nine days since he’d kissed her. Nine days since he’d
held her in his arms and promised her that everything would work
out. They were the longest and most torturous nine days he’d ever
suffered through.

Brendan slumped down behind the desk in his
London study and leaned his head against the large leather chair.
Nothing made sense anymore. After traveling to Bayhurst Court,
walking Rose down the aisle, making certain Thomas would be looked
after, and returning to London, all Brendan could think about was
how much he missed his wife.

And the blackmail notes.

Four of them, including the original, were
spread across his desk, each one more confusing than the
last.  They were all written by the same hand, he was certain,
but they contradicted each other and none of them told him where he
was to deliver the money. What a strange thing for a blackmailer to
forget.

Clayworth,

Send me
fifteen thousand pounds
or the world will learn Lady Clayworth’s
secrets.

Clayworth,

I am patiently waiting for your funds. I
am not anxious to reveal the countess’ scandalous past, but you are
not leaving me much of a choice. I await your
twenty thousand
pounds
.

Clayworth,

You owe me money! You have taken
everything from me, and I will not hesitate to retaliate. If I do
not have
twelve thousand pounds
from you by
the end of the week, Lady Clayworth’s secrets will be on display
for all to see.

Brendan scrubbed a hand across his face. He
was no closer to finding the damn letters or his blackmailer than
he was the morning he sent Cordie to Hampshire.  A scratch
came at his door and he sat forward. “Come.”

Higgins peeked inside the study. “My lord,
Lady Staveley is here to see you.”

Brendan closed his eyes. He couldn’t deal
with Caroline today. He shook his head. “Please inform her ladyship
that I am not available.”

Then he heard an indignant huff and
scrambling on the other side of the door and before Higgins could
disappear, the study door burst open. Like an angry queen, Caroline
stomped into the room, but stopped short when her eyes landed on
him. He looked bad—he knew it. She’d never seen him unshaven and
unkempt. It was no wonder her eyes nearly popped from her head.

“Good heavens, Brendan!” she gasped. “It’s
worse than I thought.” She rushed forward, tugged her glove from
her fingers and touched his brow. “Well, you’re not ill.”

“I’m not up to seeing anyone, Caroline.”

“Well, you’ll see me.” She sat on the edge
of his desk. “Darling, you know you mustn’t pay attention to the
society rags. They’re wrong as often as they’re right.”

Dear God. He hadn’t even looked at any of
those. Who knew what they said. Brendan leaned back in his chair.
“Please, Caroline, I have a lot on my mind at the moment.”

“I’m certain you do.” She nodded fervently.
“I didn’t even get a chance to speak with you at the Astwicks, but
I did see that dance and I can understand you being upset. But I
can’t imagine her up and leaving you over it.”

“Caroline, I’m not going to discuss my
marriage with you.”

Her bottom lip thrust out in a pout.
“Brendan, you need to go after her.”

“I don’t even know where she is,” he
lied.

She leaned forward, grinning like a cat who
got into the cream. “Oh, well, if that’s all that’s stopping you, I
know where she is.”

Brendan cursed under his breath. Of course
Caroline would have done her research before visiting him. He
scowled at her.

“She’s visiting Olivia and Kelfield in
Hampshire.”

“I’m not going after her,” he growled.

“But, darling, she’s miserable too. Livvie
is terribly worried about her. Just take a tiny little trip to
Hampshire to see her. I’m sure if you’re in the same room together
you can work this all out. There’s no need for all this
unhappiness.”

If he was in the same room with her, he
wouldn’t have the resolve to stay away. Brendan heaved a sigh,
letting her words sink in. Cordie was miserable. His soul ached for
her, but her safety was of the utmost importance. “I don’t want
your help, Caroline,” he said firmly. “This will either work itself
out or it won’t. But keep your pretty nose out of it.”

“But, Brendan—”

“No!” he barked, pushing away from his desk
and towering over her. “I don’t want to discuss it. I’m not going
after her. Leave it be.”

She slid off his desk, her face twisted in
surprised annoyance, which was an unusual look as she always got
her way. “If you’ll just—”

Outside his door, “Clayworth!” was
bellowed.

“Heavens,” Caroline gasped. “What is that
about?”

Brendan paid her no attention as he stalked
to his door and hauled it open. Before him stood the Marquess of
Haversham, glaring at him. “What the devil did you do with
her?”

Brendan itched to send the bastard crashing
into a wall or out a window or down a flight of steps. But that
would make him appear jealous and he needed to remember that
distancing himself from Cordie was the best thing he could do to
protect her future. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said with a
calmness he didn’t feel.

“You really are an imbecile,” Haversham
growled. “Cordie spent the entire waltz gushing over her love for
you, which irritated me to no end. If she felt half that much for
me, I’d—”

“Apologies, Haversham. I have an
appointment.” Brendan brushed past the marquess, unable to listen
to any more.  He did need a bath and clean set of clothes.
Once his uninvited guests left, and his house was quiet again,
perhaps he could think clearly.

***

Marc gaped at Clayworth’s departing form.
He’d never imagined the man wouldn’t put up a fight over his wife.
She was, after all, someone to fight over. It wasn’t until he heard
the ruffle of skirts that he turned back to the study to find
Caroline Staveley watching him with her wide hazel eyes.