Desire (Notorious 3)

“How fortunate,” Lucian replied with a brief smile.

“You must be tired and hungry after your long journey,” Grayson added in a stronger voice. “Despite that one instance, Cook can be trusted to produce an excellent dinner.”

“I have only just arrived myself,” Brynn interjected, “and I admit I am famished, now that I’m assured Gray is well.”

“We keep country hours here,” her brother informed Lucian smoothly now, “usually dining at half past six. But I will have dinner pushed back so you can refresh yourselves. I’ll see to it as soon as I have a servant gather your baggage and show you to your rooms.”

Preferring not to share the same quarters with Lucian, however, Brynn overrode her brother’s orders and claimed her childhood bedchamber for herself, while giving Lucian a guest room farther down the hall. She didn’t believe she could endure such enforced intimacy, at least until she gained better command of her unstable emotions. Surprisingly Lucian didn’t protest the arrangements, but merely said he would collect her for dinner in an hour.

Brynn was grateful for the chance to compose herself as she washed and changed her gown. By the time Lucian rapped on her door to escort her downstairs, she had managed to get her nerves under tenuous control.

Her composure faltered again, however, when he greeted her with cool reserve; the current strain between them reminded Brynn of the early weeks of their stormy marriage.

“I apologize again for the misunderstanding,” she said as they descended the stairs, wishing she could placate him.

A muscle in Lucian’s jaw tightened, but he remained silent.

“Are you angry that I came home?”

“I would have preferred to know your intentions. You might have saved me a good deal of worry. As it was, I could only hope that nothing untoward had befallen you-not to mention that I was compelled to abandon my mission.”

“I am sorry, Lucian, truly.”

“Are you, love?” He didn’t sound convinced.

Brynn eyed him warily, but Lucian merely ushered her into the drawing room where her brother awaited them.

Dinner was more congenial than she expected, with Gray putting himself out to play the charming host. And the dishes were more tempting than Brynn had tasted at the Caldwell table since her childhood: hare soup, hot raised game pie, poached turbot in lo

bster sauce, boiled cauliflower, fillet of pheasant and truffles with a remove of plum pudding, and for the sweets, custard and hothouse strawberries.

She was too agitated, however, to enjoy the delicious fare. With the knots roiling in her stomach, she might as well have been dining on sawdust.

Her tension rose to a dangerous level at the conclusion of the meal. When Brynn would have repaired to the drawing room, leaving the gentlemen alone to their port, Gray spoke up.

“I fear I must leave you. I have an engagement later this evening that I cannot avoid.”

Brynn gave a start, then forcibly pressed her lips together to avoid demanding what her brother was up to.

Lucian replied for her. “Don’t concern yourself, Sir Grayson. I for one will be glad for the privacy with my wife. I have missed her after so long a separation. These past three days have seemed an eternity.” His sapphire eyes met Brynn’s, sending a jolt of shivering awareness down her spine, along with unmistakable alarm.

“Well then, if you don’t mind…” Gray rose from the table. “I will repair to my rooms to change. Brynn, if you can spare me a moment, I require your advice on a matter of the heart.” When she gave him a puzzled frown, his skin flushed as if in embarrassment. “During your absence I have been courting Miss Uxbridge, and I expect to encounter her tonight.”

Miss Uxbridge was one of the local squire’s pretty daughters. Brynn suspected her brother was telling yet another lie, but she politely excused herself from Lucian and followed Gray down the hall and into the dimly lit library.

“Here,” he whispered, fishing in his jacket pocket and handing her a vial of cloudy liquid. “Use this to keep Wycliff occupied tonight.”

“What is it?”

“Sleeping drops. Like laudanum, only stronger. You will have to slip it into his wine.”

She stared at the vial as if it were poison. “You are asking me to drug my own husband? Grayson, I couldn’t possibly-”

“You must, Brynn, if you want him to live. If you want Theo to live. If you care anything at all for them… for me… you will do as I ask.”

Her fingers closed reflexively around the vial. As Gray walked away, she remained frozen in place. Finally she squeezed her eyes shut.

How had she come to this? Torn between the terrible choice of protecting her brothers and betraying her husband, the man who owned her heart.