Betrayed (7 page)

She pitied the princess but took full
advantage of the reprieve to enjoy the Ball. Clara admired the gowns of the
ladies. Fashions were changing faster than her poor dress allowance could keep
up with. Her mother’s last dress order before the doomed wedding trip had
drained the purse.

Entering this beautiful room wearing the crème
glacé silk, Clara was disposed to believe that she could one day forgive Branson,
but she would never return to Windemere Hall as long as Grace Leeds remained.

“You were smiling and now you look troubled
again,” said Edgar. “You must not worry about father. You have done your best
to save him, far more than I would have done in your position. If Branson
accuses him and the investors call in the law, the whole thing will erupt in a
great scandal and Papa will only have himself to blame when it does.”

“You know perfectly well he will blame me.”
She allowed her brother to lead her onto the dance floor. “No, we must take
this threat seriously if only for Mother’s sake. We are young; we’ll make our
way somehow, but Mother will be crushed if Father is taken to prison.”

Edgar held her back at arm’s length. A
teasing grin played over his handsome features. “What has got into you? You are
quite changed. Do not deny it. I have noticed the significant improvement in
your speech, even if Father hasn’t. Something happened at Windemere to work
this change in you.”

“Nothing happened.” She blushed furiously. “I
was treated to our cousin’s implacable ill-temper and only wanted to get home
again.”

“Darling sister, you are a poor liar. Bran
is a cranky brute, yes, I shall concede to your feminine assessment of my old
friend. But that
you
only wanted to get home again
...?” Edgar
laughed. “No, that I do not accept. Your eyes are glowing with a life I’ve not
seen for years. Something happened at Windemere that was not entirely
disagreeable. Tell me what it is,” he needled.

Clara lowered her voice. “It does not
signify now. I can never see him again.”

“But you wish you could. Oh Clara, you dear
little mutt....”

She smiled sadly and poked his shoulder. “You
know I hate that nickname.”

He laughed with his usual cheeky disregard for
her feelings and swirled Clara to the middle of the dance floor. They danced,
laughing, under the sparkling chandeliers until a scuffle at the entrance
attracted their attention. Clara turned to see what the fuss was all about.

Branson Hamilton pushed past the footmen
and charged to the middle of the ballroom. Surrounded by a glittering
astonished company, unashamed, he shouted.”Clara!”

Clara froze. “Oh no, no, no ... it cannot
be.”

Edgar moved in front of her, shielding her
and the orchestra whined to a halt, uncertain how to proceed in the face of
this interruption.

Branson’s cloak was spattered in mud and
his boots as well. He was dressed in a gentleman’s frock coat but in the
ballroom, surrounded by bejewelled gowns and black evening suits, her cousin
looked as if he had blown in on a strong North wind.

“CLARA, I CANNOT endure! Do not test me or I shall do what
I promised.”

Clara emerged from behind Edgar’s
protection. She held her hand up to stop him from saying more. “Not here,
Branson. I will speak with you, but not here.” Perspiration collected at her
brow and behind her ears as she waited for his answer.

“What is this—what is going on here?”
Strachan burst through the throng of dancers and onlookers wearing his red
serge dress uniform. “You do not have to speak to this ruffian, Miss Hamilton.
Sir, I will thank you to leave immediately.”

Branson regarded Strachan with a cold
sneer. “The lady is my wife and I shall speak to her where ever and whenever I
please. Would you like to contradict me in front of this assembly?”

Clara darted between them. “Thank you,
Captain Strachan for your concern. Mr. Hamilton and I will continue our
conversation in the solarium. Please, I beg of you, sir,” she said in a frantic
hushed voice. “I cannot endure another scene. I shall die.”

Strachan instantly backed away, silenced by
her emotion.

Branson took Clara’s arm and steered her
unhurriedly to the solarium as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.
She glanced back. Strachan was standing helplessly to one side and the entire
party seemed stunned into silence. Clara was depending on Edgar to make light
of the interruption and her brother did not disappoint.

“My dear hostess, it seems my
brother-in-law has made a puddle on this elegant parquet floor. I worry I will
break my leg and I am by far the best dancer here. Can nothing be done?”

The party broke into peals of laughter and
the music resumed while footmen were dispatched to clean the floor.

“YOU HAVE told Strachan. I could see it in the look he gave
me. You have confirmed his suspicion that you are not my wife. That was unwise,
Clara.”

“It is the truth. Whatever you might think
about it, it is the truth and I could not lie to him. What do you want,
Branson?”

“What does he mean to you?” The muscle in
his jaw twitched.

“Captain Strachan is engaged to be married. The
question is insulting.”

“He cannot be trusted but then neither can you
it seems. How does Miss Trudy Delisle feel about her fiancé offering you his
protection?”

“Shut up,” she hissed, narrowing her eyes. “You
have no right to speak to me about trust. Do you see the dress I am wearing? It
is the gown I was to be married in. I wear my shame tonight after suffering the
humiliation of telling my father my betrothal was a cruel trick!”

“None of which was necessary,” he ground out. “I
said you were safe with me but you chose to run off with Strachan the first
chance you got! I doubt your father will be pleased. There is not much money in
being a regimental soldier.”

“William’s father is Lord Strachan. Being the
youngest son of three, William went in for soldiering at his father’s recommendation.
As the son of a lord, Strachan’s rise will be rapid.”

“Whereas the rest of us must earn our stripes.”
His voice was cold but there were signs of deep emotion working over his face. “It
appears you have made up your mind to have the fellow. I am happy for you, Clara.
Strachan is god-fearing, rich, and likely to forgive any number of rumours
about you that reach his ear.”

The blood left her face. Clara nodded blindly,
gripped by panic.
“Branson, please.
I am begging you.
Do not say anything to Captain Strachan about what happened between us at
Windemere. There is no need. You have had your revenge.”

“If Lord Strachan asks for a report on your
character, I can’t promise that I will lie. I am acquainted with his lordship
through mutual business interests. What I lack in social standing I make up for
in the ability to make rich men rich. If I am asked, I shall have to answer
honestly, Clara. Your father would do the same if our roles were reversed.”

“My father would not destroy a girl’s reputation
out of spite! I hate you! I want you to go away from here. Leave this instant! I
hate the very sight of you.”

Branson stood back, his chest heaving with
emotion. “I’ll go but not until you’ve heard the truth about Arthur Hamilton.”

“Stop it. You have nothing to tell me!”

“I made the sorriest mistake of my life
when I introduced Grace Leeds to my uncle Arthur,” Branson roared, silencing
her.

Clara stared at him desperately, mentally
willing him not to say another word. The memory was pressing at the edges of
her mind and it frightened her. Branson was bringing it to life.

“We were engaged but had not announced it
to the family. While I was off hunting with Edgar, Arthur offered to escort
Grace on a tour of the house and grounds. I assumed she would be perfectly safe
in the company of his wife and twelve-year-old daughter. I was wrong. Grace
could barely speak when I returned. It took me hours to get it out of her. She
had been attacked by your father, a sexual attack, and then he left her to
dress and make her escape.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Don’t you?” he asked coldly. “You should.
You were there. You did
nothing
while
she begged you to fetch help. And when I confronted my uncle and he denied it,
I begged you to tell me what you saw. You refused. Grace was called a liar and
I was turned out of the house.”

The memory broke in with a crash on Clara’s
consciousness. There was Branson as a young man standing in the drawing room at
Windemere, his fists clenched. Her father’s glaring eyes were fixed on her,
starting out of his head with rage at being accused of rape.

She
remembered
. All eyes were on her, waiting for her
statement and she couldn’t speak. Her father was furious with her, her brain
seized and she could not form the words. Twelve-year-old Clara opened her mouth
to say something—anything—and out came a stream of stammering syllables until
she fell to the floor in a dead faint.

After that, she began to have terrible
dreams that seemed so real, even as Arthur called Grace Leeds a liar and Branson
a foul villain. He accused them both of trying to extort money with their vile
claim.

“I remember. I remember,” she whispered.

“Well, that is a happy coincidence,” he
said cynically. “Grace is dead now and beyond your reach but you are not beyond
mine.”

Clara blinked. “What do you mean? You
cannot think I deliberately withheld my help! I remember the confrontation in
the drawing room—but—but—I could not remember the
incident itself
. I remember a girl dressed in red and black, vivacious
and beautiful. But I don’t—that is—I
couldn’t
see
what happened to her! I am sorry, but I could not testify to what I did
not see.”

“You are lying. Grace
told
me you were there. She turned to you for help and you refused.
Believe it or not, it was Grace I doubted at first until she said you were a
witness. I trusted you of all the members of the Hamilton family.”

His movements were abrupt, pacing like a
caged animal. “Now you know. I have taken your virtue. You are spoiled goods,
just as Grace was spoiled by your father. I have had my revenge against you and
all that remains is to ruin Arthur. You can be certain I will show you the same
courtesy as your father showed Grace. He ruined her body and then he blackened
her name to protect his own. Her mind broke. She began to suffer from paranoia
and delusions. She thought she was dragging me down with her shame. I tried to
help her as best I could.”

“You ruined me for
her
sake?” Clara asked wretchedly.
“For Grace
Leeds.”

His blonde hair sparkled with drops of
rain. Branson shook his black cloak from his shoulders. He turned to her, his
mouth set, his eyes stony. “Her name was Grace Leeds before she became Grace
Reilly. I gave her my name after it happened. She was my wife.

“The woman in the chapel,” Clara realized
with dawning horror. “She said her name was Mrs. Branson Reilly.” Her legs gave
way and she stumbled slightly. Branson caught her and half-carried her to the
settee. “Every word of it was true. You are married.” Clara bit her lip to keep
from stuttering.

“Grace is dead, Clara.”

Liar
. Clara knew Grace was alive. Why did he persist with this fiction?
Grace Leeds was there between them. If not on the material plane, she was alive
in spirit in Branson’s heart and mind. Grace Leeds would never die for Branson
Hamilton.

Her cousin pressed a finger over his lips
and gazed at her warningly. “If you value your reputation, you won’t repeat
what I have told you today. As long as they believe we are married, you are
secure.”

Her reputation was the furthest thing from
Clara’s mind. It was his loss that pierced her soul and she felt it most
keenly. “You were never going to help my father. It was all a trick from the
first.” She pressed her palms over her eyes. “What a disgusting trick. When I
think what I did with you, at your behest. You are a foul evil man. You are
still grieving your wife and yet you—you led me to believe—knowing what I
suffered with Strachan, you still did this to me! I thought—I believed—oh God,
what am I to do now?”

The feelings she had bottled up for Branson
Hamilton and the hope she had allowed to bloom were crushed.

“Your crocodile tears cannot move me. You
were complicit in the death of a girl not much older than you are now. She
never recovered from the attack made upon her person, though she might have if
you had not lied to shield your father from prosecution.”

Clara lifted her tear-stained face. “I
could not remember. You must believe me.”

“No,” he
said with a wrenching cry. “It is not necessary that I believe you or that I
feel anything for you! We had a bargain and you have violated the terms of our
agreement. You will go to Arthur and tell him you lied about everything. It
should be easy enough to convince him he has nothing to fear from me. By all
means, dance with Strachan and enjoy his flattery, but if the flirtation goes
further than this evening, I will tell him how much I enjoyed your body during
your brief stay at Windemere. I will do it because it will give me pleasure to
see you suffer.”

Her heart
thudded and her mouth was dry, frightened of what he might do or say. Terrified
of public humiliation and being cast out by her new friends. Her hand trembled
as she lifted it to her cheek.
“All right, Branson. I
will do as you ask. But if I recant and Arthur is satisfied, then you will be
known as my husband and you will lose your chief weapon over me.”

She rose shakily to her feet. “Think
carefully. You will have created an enemy against whom you have no weapon.”

“You are not
such a threat, cousin.”

“I am the
worst sort of threat,” she said, measuring her words. “You have broken my
heart. I will soon break yours.”

The tension
between them was broken by Strachan charging into the solarium. Branson turned
to the captain with a careless expression. “Yes? What is it now?”

“Do not play the innocent with me, Hamilton. I’ll
not be fooled so easily as the rest of them. Clara, come with me. Edgar is
waiting.” He took her arm.

Branson’s eyes darkened and his jaw flinched. “Take
your hands off of her, Strachan. You’ve abused Miss Hamilton’s trust once
before. God knows how you convinced her to trust you a second time.”

Strachan’s eyes flicked from Clara to Branson
and then back again. He smiled slyly, seeing his advantage. “It did not take
much urging on my part to persuade the lady to tell me everything about you. I
know all about your villainous deceit.”

“Do you?” His eyes raked Clara’s body with a
lazy grin. “Are you confident our mutual friend confessed to
everything
? It is my understanding she
held something back from you.”

“Please,” she said weak from the effort of
restraining a tempest, “Captain Strachan, I’ll be along shortly. Kindly make my
excuses to my brother.”

“No, I will not leave you here with him.”

“I beg your pardon?” Branson’s eyes grew hard and
cold. His tone was low and even. This was Branson Hamilton at his most
dangerous.

Clara’s flesh lifted in goose bumps. Every word
Strachan spoke brought Branson closer to losing his temper and revealing her
secret. How he would enjoy tearing her down!

Her eyes filled with hot, angry tears. “I am not
a child, Captain. I will speak to my cousin and then rejoin the party. I beg
you, return to your fiancée before she feels your absence.”

Strachan opened his mouth to argue but Branson
cut him off. “I have outstayed my welcome. My cousin enjoys your company above
all else, sir. I have got what I came for in any case. Clara knows what she
must do and if she fails, I’ll call on you, Captain, and fill you in on our
secrets. Your servant, sir.”

Branson nodded his head in a brief bow and left
the solarium without another word.

“Good God, I did not expect the fool to give in
so easily,” Strachan said with a scoff.