Desire (Notorious 3)

When eventually Lucian’s breathing grew even, Brynn drew back so that she could see his face. His eyes were closed, as if he were in a drugged stupor.

“Lucian?” she whispered.

She waited several more long moments before finally untangling her limbs from his and easing away. Lucian lay there, unmoving, as if dead to the world. But at least he wasn’t dead. She couldn’t bear to lose him to death.

Wiping the tears from her face, Brynn dragged in a deep, steadying breath and forced herself to leave the bed. She couldn’t think about Lucian any further now. Nor did she dare tarry. She had to try to stop her brother from committing treason, to try to foil the real traitors.

Her plan was desperate, but it might just work. Grayson had told her the gold was hidden in the caves below the house, that the smugglers planned to retrieve their contraband tonight. She doubted they could act without Grayson’s presence, though, or even be able to find the strongboxes without his direction, for surely he would have concealed them well.

If she could just keep Gray away until after high tide, then the gold would be safe tonight. She could reveal its location to the local authorities on the morrow, without implicating her brother. Then Lucian could recover the strongboxes without risking his life, and Gray could escape his vicious blackmailers-

He and Theo would have to go into hiding, of course, and she would go with them. She and Gray could leave tonight. They would collect Theo from school and flee somewhere safe…

Please, please, merciful God, let her plan work. And help her make Gray see reason. She would have to use dire means to convince him, she had little doubt.

She dressed quickly in her usual smuggler’s attire- an old pair of breeches and boots and a warm woolen jacket. Then she caught up her vivid hair and stuffed it under a seaman’s cap. Finally, with one last, lingering look at her slumbering husband, Brynn put out all the lamps but one. Carrying it with her to light her way, she slipped from the room.

She went directly downstairs to her brother’s study and the cabinet where Gray kept his finer weapons. Setting down her lamp, she withdrew a small wooden case from the cabinet and opened it, expecting to find a matched pair of double-shot pistols.

The case was empty, Brynn saw with alarm, realizing Gray must have taken the weapons. But there was an older pistol toward the rear of the cabinet. With shaking hands, she spent a few precious minutes priming and loading the gun; Grayson himself had taught her how so that she might defend herself against her over amorous suitors if need be.

She had just stuffed the pistol in her belt and shut the cabinet when a beloved voice spoke behind her freezing the blood in her veins.

“Would you care to explain why you left our warm bed and dressed yourself up as a Free Trader, love?”

Chapter Twenty

Her startled gasp loud in the silence, Brynn whirled to find her husband standing in the doorway.

“Lucian,” she rasped.

“You didn’t answer my question, love.” He stood waiting, his features as cold and hard as she had ever seen them.

Brynn stared at Lucian in horror, unable to speak.

When she remained mute, he crossed the room toward her. “Was it poison or something else, Brynn?” His tone was deadly calm.

“ W-what do you mean?”

“Don’t dare lie to me.” His voice held a savage edge. “I’ve had enough of your lies. What did you put in my wine?”

She swallowed hard. “It wasn’t poison.”

“What then?”

“Only a sleeping draught.”

“Only a draught? You attempted to drug me.”

“Y-yes.” Yet Lucian obviously had only pretended to drink, Brynn realized.

A muscle in his jaw clenched. “I had hoped I was wrong.” He stopped before her, his face so dark with anger that she took a step back. “Fool that I am, I prayed you weren’t guilty of treason.”

He moved toward her, his shadow slipping over her as he grasped her arm in a painful grip. Reaching down, Lucian took the pistol from her belt. “Forgive me if I don’t trust you with a weapon.”

Numbly she shook her head, trying to recruit her wits. “Lucian, it isn’t what you think-”

“No?” He gave a sharp laugh. “Then tell me.”