“I don’t know if Gray could be of any help,” she said finally. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt to ask him.”
Lucian forced a smile. Her reply was not the one he had hoped for-that she would disavow any knowledge of her brother’s activities. Rising, he crossed to her, then bent and pressed his lips to her brow. “Sleep well, siren.”
Taken off guard, Brynn eyed him warily. It had been a tender gesture, as if there were real affection between them.
“You don’t intend to stay?” she asked.
“Are you inviting me to stay?”
Their gazes locked. A long moment passed while he studied her. Eventually, though, Brynn looked away, uncomfortable with his penetrating scrutiny.
>
“Well then,” Lucian said lightly, “I see I had best summon all my willpower.” When she didn’t respond, he reached out to brush her cheek with a knuckle. “Don’t worry, love. I intend to wait for an invitation. I won’t press my unwanted attentions on you.”
“You must do as you please,” she said, her voice low.
“Must I?” he asked softly.
Brynn watched him turn away, still surprised and unaccountably disappointed that he hadn’t remained.
When he was gone, she let out an unsteady breath of relief. Yet her inner turmoil wasn’t caused solely by her husband’s potent masculinity. This time Lucian had given her too much to think about-and raised a disturbing possibility.
She’d always believed Grayson was smuggling wine and brandy and silk; never had she dreamed he would become involved in something treasonous such as stealing gold and delivering it to the enemy. Brynn bit her lip. Surely she would have known if Gray were engaged in so wicked a crime. He would not be able to keep such a secret from her-and yet she hadn’t been home in weeks.
And Gray had been unusually troubled during his last visit, agitated even. Brynn suddenly recalled the questions he had put to her then… his keen interest in Lucian’s connection to the Foreign Office, particularly Lucian’s role as a spy.
And what of her husband’s enigmatic comments just now? Did he somehow suspect Grayson?
A stab of fear shot through her as she realized the possible danger to her brother. She had greatly underestimated Lucian. He wasn’t a bored nobleman playing at being a hero. After losing close friends to the war, he was personally driven to prevent further bloodshed, even at the risk of his own life. Admittedly, his revelations tonight had given her a new respect for him. Yet she had also gained a new wariness. Lucian was keenly intelligent, intuitively clever. And he was determined to find the gold smugglers. If he were to suspect Grayson-
Another frightening thought struck her. Had he suspected Gray all along? Had that been Lucian’s purpose for coming to Cornwall in the first place? Even more damning, had he courted her to get closer to her brother? Had he used her that way? Just as he was using her to sire a son?
And something else… Gray’s desperate interest in Lucian’s seal ring. Her breath caught in her throat. Sweet heaven… Was Gray truly involved in treason? And had she unwittingly aided him?
It was a horrifying thought.
Brynn shook her head, pressing her lips together in a tight line. She wouldn’t jump to conclusions just yet, condemning her brother without a fair hearing. But she would certainly have a great number of questions to put to him when she wrote to him first thing in the morning.
Chapter Thirteen
For an endless moment they stood locked together in a death grip, straining for control of the rapier. Then with an anguished cry, Giles twisted away and flung himself full-force at Lucian, sending them both crashing over the table to the floor.
Struggling for breath, Lucian rolled free and climbed to his feet, firmly in possession of the weapon. Yet his opponent lay still, groaning, blood seeping from a mortal wound in his chest.
Dropping the blade with a clatter, Lucian went down on his knees beside the dying man, cradling his head.
“Giles…” he whispered, agony ripping through him.
“Forgive me, Luce… It is better this way… Please…don’t tell…”
His last rasped words were lost in a violent fit of coughing as blood bubbled up from his throat.
“No…!”
The hoarse cry woke her. Brynn sat up in bed, her heart pounding. Her bedchamber was dark, filled with an uneasy silence.
When she heard another muted moan of pain coming from beyond the door to her sitting room, she hastily fumbled to light a candle and made her way cautiously to Lucian’s apartments. He lay sleeping in the huge canopied bed, tossing his head restlessly on the pillow. His body was nearly bare, the rumpled linen sheets scarcely covering his loins.