Bronwyn Scott's Sexy Regency Bundle (56 page)

'He was boyishly handsome. He could make me laugh when he made the effort, which was seldom after we courted. His charming was an act. He just wanted someone to trail around the countryside,

and cleaning for him.

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'The worst part was once I got over the realisation that he was a borderline criminal with his business dealings, I couldn't leave him. The law doesn't allow for a woman to cast off a husband and, even if I had been able to, I had no way to support myself.' Nora paused, letting Brandon assimilate the pieces of her his tory.

'Then you ran away and became The Cat?' Brandon guessed.

Nora shook her head. 'Not at first. I started small. In the beginning, I left baskets of goods I pilfered from Reggie's stock.

He was a

book-keeper and kept a shoddy inventory. It was easy to take a length of cloth here and few tins of food there.'

'He never caught on?'

'Not for a while. He was quite angry when he discovered what I had been doing.' Nora cringed at the memory.

'He hit you?'

'He beat me up quite thoroughly. I started the knife

in the sleeve sheath after that. One night he came back to our camp site drunk. It was worse than usual. I pulled the knife and, when he lunged for me, I stabbed him in the shoulder. Between the wound and the alcohol, he passed out. I knew I couldn't be there when he woke up.

'I took what was left of his stock, and had the good fortune to meet up with Hattie and Alfred at a fair. They were small-time con artists, but they were getting on in years for such living. They liked the idea of settling in a house, even if it was just for a year or so at a time. After that, I started being The Cat in earnest. When it became clear that I had to have a means of income, I expanded The

range of activities.'

'Incredible,' Brandon breathed when she had finished.

Nora gave a bittersweet smile at the sight of his admiration.

'That is why I can't possibly marry you. I have to be The Cat for the sake of helping others and because I must live in hiding.

Reggie is out there somewhere. As long as I keep moving and

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forgo my

identity, he can't find me. You cannot risk being connected to me.'

'Do you really expect me to let you walk away after knowing that?' Brandon said softly.

'Yes.' Nora stamped her foot in frustration. 'There's nothing for you here but the harbouring of a fugitive.'
Especially since
you don love me.

Not an iota of affection. She had noticed that he admired her.

She fired his blood like no other, but that was all lust and physical attraction. It was the novelty of her. Those things would fade and Brandon would be left wondering why he'd risked so much for so little. And, of course, she'd be left hurt because in the final analysis she liked him a great deal.
A great
deal.

'It should be for me to decide,' Brandon said. 'You are my responsibility. I will not have you martyr yourself out of some misguided notion that I am the one who needs saving.'

There was that word again: responsibility. She was coming to hate it. She would hate it if it wasn't so important to her too.

She understood the power of responsibility all too well.

'Be glad I have the good sense not to take advantage of you.

My rejection is a gift,' Nora fired back, relieved to feel her temper rising. Good. She wouldn't dwell on all that she was turning down. She cared for him too much to tie him to her when he did not reciprocate her depth of feeling. When he worked that out, he'd be thankful for her decision.

'You will see reason and you'll know I was right to decline.

I cannot abide the idea that you would marry me to fulfil your sense of duty. You cannot wish to be shackled to a woman you don't know for the rest of your days

'You're wrong. I know you, Nora. I know you're The Cat.

I know you have a criminal past, all for a good cause. I know and I still admire you. When I saw Witherspoon point that gun at you, I knew I couldn't lose you.'

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Of course not. You can't stand to lose, you insufferably
stubborn man.
Nora stared at him, letting silence permeate the room. She took a moment and let the import of his words sink in. It would be easy to interpret them to mean what she wanted them to mean-a replacement for 'I love Any other woman might be taken in by those powerful words. But in the past month she'd come to know Brandon Wycroft. He was a man who hated to lose and hated to share.

She knew what he really meant: he wasn't going to let a chap like Witherspoon call the shots. This was his game with The Cat and his game alone. She understood, but it still hurt.

Brandon chuckled in the quiet. 'Besides, Nora, you can't leave just yet. I need to produce a betrothed for a reasonable bit of time or else it will look suspicious.'

'How long?' Nora said warily. Letting him determine how the betrothal gambit evolved put her in a tenuous position.

'Two weeks ought to be sufficient.'

'Two weeks and then you let me walk away?'

'Yes, unless you change your mind.'

'I won't. I can't.'

Brandon smiled knowingly with all the confidence of an urbane rake prowling the London drawing rooms. 'We'll see.'

What had she got herself into? Nora wondered two days later, standing in what had become her suite of chambers, surrounded by boxes of hats, shoes, gloves and undergarments of the finest linens. Her wardrobe began the afternoon following the dressmakers' initial visit, providing a signal of sorts to those in the village who felt obliged to consort with the Earl and his intended.

The purported tragedy befalling her luggage and maid held would-be callers at bay for a day, long enough for Brandon and she to sort out what lay between them. For the to succeed,

they had to have a united front. Playing his role to the hilt,

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Brandon had dashed off a letter to his closest sister, inviting her to chaperon.

Now that her new clothing had arrived, the callers were not far behind. Indeed, Nora had been informed mere minutes ago that Witherspoon, along with his wife and sister, were downstairs in the front drawing room, hoping to be received. She supposed she could ask Brandon to tell them she was indisposed, but that would be the coward's way out. Brandon expected more of her.