The Earl Claims His Wife (5 page)

Brian tried not to retreat behind his own wall of feigned indifference. “I thought you could use my help,” he said in explanation for why he was there.

Gillian’s manner didn’t soften. “I had imagined you would be on the road for London already.”

“I have no intention of letting you travel alone,” he responded. He’d meant to sound conciliatory. The words didn’t come out that way. They were too stiff. He sounded offended by her attitude, which he was.

She folded a shawl, not bothering to look at him as she said briskly, “You needn’t worry. I am very adept at taking care of myself.”

He wondered if she enjoyed that jab. Certainly it had hit its mark. He glanced at the maid, who followed their conversation back and forth with wide eyes. “Let us have a moment alone,” he said.

For the first time in his life, a servant wavered at his command. The pregnant maid stood between him and her mistress and appeared ready to tell him “no.”

“It’s all right, Rennie,” Gillian said quietly. “In fact, would you see if the coach is ready yet?”

Rennie didn’t hesitate to obey Gillian’s command. She bobbed a curtsey to Gillian and then walked past Brian as if he were some rube on the street. She left the door open behind her.

He shut it.

“I believe we should clear the air between us,” he said.

She continued folding clothes from a pile on the bed and packing them in the trunk, ignoring him.

“I know you are upset, Gillian. But we are man and wife. If we have differences we are bound by our vows before God to settle them.”

Her response was a short bark of laughter. She turned to him. “You bring up our vows now? Wright, if you had wanted to ‘settle’ our differences, you wouldn’t have chosen your mistress over your wife.”

“You needn’t worry yourself about her. She’s dead to—”

“Dead?” Gillian’s whole manner changed. “Jess is dead?” she repeated in disbelief.

That wasn’t what Brian had planned to say. She’d interrupted before he could complete his sentence that Jess was dead to him, but he quickly realized the advantage to her assumption. Besides it would make no difference. Her path and Jess’s would never cross. “Yes,” he confirmed.

Her hard manner melted. She slowly sank to the edge of the bed. “That’s sad,” she said. “I never wished that on her. How did she die?”

A cause of death escaped him. In truth, he wasn’t a good liar. “I’m not certain,” he hedged. “I wasn’t there.”

“You don’t know?” Gillian shook her head as if the idea troubled her. “You told me you loved her.”

He had . “Death sometimes happens quickly. Jess was a large part of my life. I trusted her.” The word

“trusted” had almost stuck in his throat.

Gillian shook her head and then frowned as if he’d turned right before her eyes into the lowest form of worm. “And now you have come for me?”

Words failed him. His wife had a sharp mind. Too late he saw the trap of his own making, and there was nothing he could do but stand before her, guilty as charged.

“I need you.” Brian had not expected to say such words. They’d come out of him on their own.

They’d surprised her, too. The line of her mouth flattened. “Need me?” Her gaze shifted away from him going toward the hearth. Her fingers rubbed a crease into the shawl’s material. With a small, self-deprecating half laugh, she said, “You’ve never needed anyone. At least not a woman.”

“I’m not made of stone, Gillian. Nor am I perfect. I know I hurt you when we married.”

She pressed her lips together, dropping her gaze to the crease she’d folded into her shawl.

He pushed on, sensing victory. “You have the right to be angry, Gillian, but I’m here. That should tell you something about my hopes for us.”

“We are strangers who don’t even like each other—”

“That is not true. I have always admired you.”

“Admired?” she repeated softly to herself. “You never admired me.”

In a sudden movement, she threw the shawl aside. The lines of her face tensed. He braced himself for tears. Instead, she met him with lightning in her eyes. “I am going with you to London because I want my freedom. I love Andres Ramigio. I never thought I would love again after the way you treated me.

But now, I have a second chance for happiness and I’m going to take it. London is where the lawyers and clerics are who will help me be free of you. I will be no docile wife, Wright. I will resist you every step of the way and the only way you will find peace is if you divorce me.”

He’d faced French cannons that packed less firepower than his wife at this moment.

But she was coming to London.

“Fair enough,” he answered. “You’ve given me warning. Now the battle will begin.”

“The battle?”

“The war I plan on waging to win your heart.”

Now it was her turn to be speechless. Brian smiled. It was the first point he’d scored with his wife.

“I’ll leave you to pack.”

He knew when it was time to retreat.

So he was gone.

Gillian slammed down the lid of the trunk in frustration. He thought to win her heart?

He should have thought of that four years ago.

And here he was thinking he was so clever, but she understood what he was doing. He was attempting to unsettle her. He’d badger her until she relented, and then he would revert to his old ways once he thought he had her in the palm of his hand again—

A knock on the door alerted her that Rennie had returned.

“Is the coach ready?” Gillian asked. “We must lock this trunk and then I will be ready…”

Her voice trailed off as she saw it wasn’t Rennie who had knocked, but Andres. The expression on his face broke her heart.

“Don’t go,” he whispered.

She ran and threw herself into his arms. He hugged her as if he’d never let her go. All this time, they’d dared not touch and now this felt so very good. So right.

Gillian buried her face into the side of his neck, breathing in the scent of his skin. He was strong and solid.

“I don’t want to go,” she confessed. She tightened her hold around his neck to let him know exactly how much she meant those words.

Andres pulled away. His silver eyes were serious as he said, “We will run away. We’ll leave. Now. I have friends in Belgium. And I’ll take you to Italy and perhaps, Greece.”

Gillian drew herself out of his arms. “I won’t run. Our love deserves more than that. Trust me, please, Andres. I will see myself free of this marriage.”

“It will not be easy.”

“I know.”

He gathered her close again, his gaze shifting from hers. He had his doubts. She did too. Divorce wasn’t easy. It required an act of Parliament. But Gillian had to believe it could be done. She did not want to live her life trapped in a loveless marriage. “My husband’s family is politically very powerful.

If anyone could arrange for a divorce, they can. All I must do is convince them they don’t want me in their lives any longer. After all, as his father’s heir, Wright must have a wife willing to give him a son.

I won’t let him touch me.”

“And what shall I do in the meantime?” Andres asked, bitter disappointment in his words. “How can I let you go by yourself with him.”

“Please, amor, you must trust me. My plan is the best. If I can’t convince Wright to ask for a divorce, then I will run away with you. We’ll have no choice. We’ll become vagabonds and wander from country to country.” She smiled at the thought, reaching up and brushing her fingertips against his hair. He was so handsome it was almost hard to believe he was in love with her.

Nor did she doubt his love. A wiser man in Andres’s circumstances would marry for money. Andres chose her, a woman with nothing to offer him save herself.

He placed his hands on her shoulders. “I will stay here. I will wait. But you must promise that if you need me, you will send word. I will ride the swiftest horse and do whatever I must to come to you, amor. And until the day you send for me, I shall not smile. It will be a challenge to even breathe.”

His words tightened around her heart. She came up on her toes to give him their first kiss. Closing her eyes, she pressed her lips against his and would have pulled back except for Andres’s arms coming around her.

Immediately, their mouths melded together and he kissed her as a woman should be kissed.

Gillian had dreamed of kissing Andres this way. She almost couldn’t believe it was happening.

Too soon, the kiss ended. When Andres released her, she wobbled a second, befuddled. She couldn’t remember her name let alone her purpose.

Andres steadied her with his hand, pleased with himself. “Remember, send one word, and I shall come to you.”

He pressed another quick kiss to her forehead and left the room.

Gillian was tempted to chase after him for another kiss. That would set the servants’ tongues wagging. Instead, she sank down upon the upholstered seat in front of her dressing table. She raised her fingertips to her lips, wanting to remember the feel of Andres’s kiss—

“The coach is here, my lady,” Rennie said, entering the room with only one knock on the door for warning. Gillian quickly dropped her hand. “And I have the footmen in the hall to carry your trunk,”

Rennie reported, pleased with her efficiency.

Gillian forced her mind away from Andres’s kiss. “Yes, thank you,” she murmured, conscious that her cheeks burned from the direction of her thoughts.

“Is something the matter, my lady?” Rennie asked, a worried frown between her brows.

“The matter?” Gillian repeated quickly as she slid her arms into the sleeves of her coat—and then realized she had nothing for which to be ashamed. She had fallen in love with a man worthy of her and so unlike her husband she could dance a jig. “Nothing is the matter,” she said, setting her velvet hat on her head and picking up her muff. “In fact, there never has been a time when everything is so right.”

“Really, my lady?” Rennie asked, uncertain.

“Yes, really. Now bring in those footmen and don’t forget my travel bag.”

Her relatives and the other guests waited downstairs to see her off. All made promises to visit her in London. After serving a year seeing to her cousin’s estate, she’d grown quite close with many of them.

Aunt Agatha stood by the open door. “Are you certain you don’t want my maid to travel with you?”

“I’m fine,” Gillian said. “Atherton’s household has servants for the servants. I’ll choose a maid from one of them. But while I’m gone, please watch over Rennie and send me a letter the moment she has her baby.”

“I will,” her aunt promised.

Gillian glanced around the people in the hall to see her off. She didn’t see Wright or Andres. “Has Wright gone on?” she wondered, going out onto the front step. Wright’s horse was nowhere to be seen either.

“I presume,” her aunt said. “We haven’t seen him.” She leaned close to Gillian so that her next words would not be overheard. “I will admit to you I am disappointed in him. He should be here. I’m most vexed at the idea that he would travel on ahead.”

“We had a short discussion upstairs,” Gillian confessed. “We didn’t part on good terms.”

“Oh, well, then Wright probably took off in a pout. You know how men are,” Aunt Agatha said. “But it is disappointing. I had expected better of him.”

“Really? I didn’t. But then, I’m his wife,” Gillian couldn’t resist saying tightly.

Aunt Agatha nodded, still troubled and then sighed. “By the by, offering to duel for you was very noble of your Spaniard. Perhaps you should have let them fight. Then you wouldn’t be leaving.”

“And what would that have solved?” Gillian wondered. “No, this is the best way.” She kissed her aunt’s cheek. “I shall see you in London. Or perhaps here if you don’t leave before next week. I may be returned by then.”

“Cheeky girl. You think to best your husband. Be wary of him, Gillian. Wright has fought the French. He probably has more than a few tricks up his sleeve.”

“As have I,” Gillian declared, feeling confident and certain of her plans.

All she had to work out were the details.

Waving again to everyone, Gillian walked down the step to the coach. James held the door open for her. “I’m glad you are traveling with me, James,” she said. “With you for my protection and George handling the reins, I’m in good hands.”

“That you are, my lady,” James said.

Gillian started into the coach, her spirits high—until she was stunned to see she wouldn’t be riding alone as planned.

Wright had taken off his greatcoat and was sitting in the seat, his broad shoulders and long legs taking up most of the room in the cab. He smiled as if reading her mind. “Surprised?”

Gillian’s good humor vanished. She leaned to glance at the back of the coach to double check what she already knew—there was no horse tied there.

She had happily assumed Wright had ridden ahead of her. She was wrong.

Conscious that James still held the door for her and that all of Huntleigh’s guests were gathered waiting for her to leave, she forced herself to smile as she said, “I thought you hated riding in coaches.”

“I do,” Wright agreed cheerfully. “They are damned uncomfortable.” He shifted his weight, bracing one booted foot on the opposite side of the coach. “However, I thought this would be a splendid opportunity to know each other better.”

Gillian didn’t want to know Wright better. She knew him well enough. “Wouldn’t it be wise to bring your horse along in case you decide you’d prefer to ride later?” Or until they were out of sight of the house and she threw him out of her coach.

Wright grinned as if reading her mind. “No,” he said pleasantly. “I’m going to be happy to be right here beside you.” He patted the seat next to him for emphasis.

She could have cheerfully punched him in the nose for his impudence.

Gillian glanced back over her shoulder toward the house. Andres had come to the door. He stood there, a silent, brooding figure. It would be so easy to run to him…and yet there would still be the problem of her marriage.

No, the best thing to do would be to go to London. The answer to freeing herself of this marriage would be found there.