Wolfsgate (39 page)

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Authors: Cat Porter

Tags: #Historical Romance Drama

BOOK: Wolfsgate
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He sighed heavily. “Please be careful and stay away from them both.”

“I always try to stay away from my stepbrother, Mr. Montclare.” Her eyes narrowed. “And I believe I will be staying away from you as well.”

He pulled his head back, his mouth tightening. “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

“I think you should leave now.”

“I wanted you to know that I think William’s overstepped. Something’s different in his attitude towards Brandon. It’s harsher than the usual sibling rivalry there always was between them. I can’t explain it, I just know. At least William’s reined in his wife, for the time being.”

“What does that mean?” Justine asked.

“You know Amanda.”

“I cannot say I do. I knew her as a girl, but we have not been in each other’s company for quite some time.”

“Amanda is perpetually dissatisfied no matter what she’s been provided with. William indulges her for a time, and she settles with him after her current distractions fade.” Charles sighed. “Those two have a peculiar bond. Her moods tend to vary between excitement, displeasure and irritated boredom and only he knows how to navigate them. More power to him.”

“You seem to know Mrs. Treharne rather well.”

A muscle pulsed in Charles’s jaw. “I should go. Do be careful. If you need anything—”

“I do not need anything from you, sir.”

“Justine, please.” He reached out and took hold of her hand.

“What the hell is this?” a menacing voice boomed. Justine snapped her hand out of Charles’s hold. Brandon, his features tight and dark, stood just beyond her and Charles. “What are you doing here?” Brandon asked.

“I came—”

“You came to see my wife. Again. Obviously her being my wife is no deterrent to your passions. So desperate to get between her legs, are you?”

Charles’s body visibly tightened. “Graven—”

Brandon’s cold gaze was as hard as iron. He had not slept enough, and Justine knew the prickling torment was now scalding his insides.

Brandon snapped his head at Justine. “Did you think you could play me for a fool? Was this all a big game for you and William? He knew he’d be in trouble if he married you off to anyone else. So why not to me? Half-dead, broken Brandon. Wouldn’t matter to him, would it?”

“Brandon—”

“What the hell are you on about, Graven?” Charles asked. “Insulting bastard! You’re mad, you know that?”

“It’s Charles, isn’t it?” Brandon’s eyes bored down on Justine. “Yes, your ‘friendly’ friend, indeed.”

She flushed and shook her head. “Brandon, please! Stop.”

“Graven, listen to me.” Charles wedged himself between Brandon and Justine. He touched Brandon’s arm, but Brandon shoved it away. “I came about William. You’ve got to stay away from Amanda. Did you really think he was going to sit by and allow you to amuse yourself with his wife for old time’s sake?”

“I did it for his benefit, you idiot,” Brandon said. “I’m not interested in any affair with that woman.”

“Are you quite sure?” Charles asked. “Because it certainly hasn’t seemed that way to the rest of us. Especially to your wife.”

“Stop this!” Justine’s arms tightened around her waist.

“And you’ve made it your priority to know my wife’s mind have you?”

“I have witnessed her experiencing the Brandon and Amanda spectacle. Painful, my friend,” Charles said. “And yet she continues to put on a brave face and stand by you. Why, I do not know.”

“Gentlemen, please!” Justine raised her voice, but the men ignored her.

“I find it fascinating, Montclare, how you happened to be at my wife’s side at every turn of said spectacle. And I find it even more fascinating as you were the one who had encouraged me to pursue Amanda. All those amused looks you’ve been giving me over these past weeks—there I thought it was your smug understanding and approval of my flirtation. When in truth, it was your derision, wasn’t it?” Brandon’s eyes flared. “You were mocking me whilst enjoying your little ploy. Always the master player.” Brandon’s eyes slid to Justine. “What do you think of your
friend
now, Justine?”

Justine’s head jerked towards Charles, and he winced as if her horrified expression stung like the bite of an angry wasp.

“Nothing to say for yourself now, Montclare?” Brandon’s one eyebrow lifted. “You’ve had a hand in all this so that you could get under my wife’s skirts, haven’t you? Just for a laugh, eh?”

“Dear God,” Justine said, her shoulders slumping.

“I did not come here today with the intention of pressing my affections upon your wife. I came for your benefit,” Charles said, his voice hard. “William is not finished with you, Graven. I am sure of it. He is incensed. I have come to know the signs. I felt badly for you the other night. It was appalling of him to use your weakness against you. That’s why I came here today, not to amuse myself with your wife, but to warn both of you.” Charles’s hands smoothed down his great coat, his face tight. “I realize you are not well. I shall go.”

Charles took a step towards Justine. “Have a care, dear girl. I beg your forgiveness for abusing your friendship. I regret it deeply.” He bowed to her and without another glance mounted his horse and rode away at a gallop. Justine held her breath, her eyes remaining on Charles and his horse until the woods seemed to swallow them up.

“The bastard,” Brandon said on a growl. “I get distracted with Amanda, and he insinuates himself into your heart, and you begin relying on him. First Andrew, now Charles.” Brandon shook his head at her. “Not such an innocent girl, are you? You’ve been lying to me about who you are all along.” His voice had lowered ominously.

Her heart thudded in her chest. “I have not lied to you. And Charles is not in my heart nor in my bed. There is only you.”

He closed the distance between them. “Then explain what I know to be true, because I felt it inside you, or rather—” he smirked “— I did not feel it.” His words blistered on her skin like hot coals.

“Have I upset you, my lady?” he breathed, his tone bitter. His hands gripped her upper arms, his eyes simmered. “Poor Justine. But I’m the one who’s been lied to by everyone.”

“I’ve never lied to you, Brandon.”

“Bollocks!” His one hand slid around her neck yanking her close, his mouth inches from her own. “Am I not enough for you? You need your first love or a fresh model with no scars, no limp, no compulsive fixations to better satisfy you?”

Her fingers dug into his sides. “You’re the only man—”

“Oh, Justine.” His nose glided along her jaw and icy shivers crawled across her back. “Do not lie to me. Not you,” he whispered. “The game is up.”

“There is no game.” Tears filled her throat, her fingers curled into his shirt. “No man has touched me the way you have. Ever.”

“‘The
way
I have?’ My clever girl.” He took in a shaky breath and hissed out air as he shoved her away. “I do not know what to believe anymore,” his rough voice tore through her. “The one thing I do know is that I cannot bear you lying to me, Justine. Not you. It’s killing me.” A moan heaved from his chest.

“Brandon, please listen—”

“I want to believe in you. I do.” He pressed his palms to his eyes and exhaled. “Because you’re all I see.” His hands fell from his face revealing heavy, red eyes. “I feel things for you, things I’ve never felt before.” His voice broke. “It scares me, it hurts.”

“Brandon—”

He raised his chin at her. “Ultimately, I am to blame. I gave Charles a free path to you by being so focused on my vain little scheme with Amanda.” A bitter smile curled his lips, and he took several steps back. “But still you will not confess to me. Why not? Protecting your lover?” Justine tore her gaze away from his. “You are so very cruel. That, dear girl, pains me more than the knowledge that you have lain with another.” He charged away from her moving through the snow back towards the house.

Justine couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Everything had changed in the flick of an hour’s time; the snow had settled, obliterating the landscape into smooth, shapeless mounds, and so many caustic truths had disconnected them, destroying the tenderness between them.

Justine trudged through the fresh snow as quickly as she could towards the house. Brandon had slowed down at the front staircase, his limp now pronounced, the discomfort etched on his shoulders.

William stood in the open doorway. “Have I come at a bad time?”


WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE, WILLIAM
?” Brandon asked. He stopped abruptly. Justine rushed up the stairs behind him, her fingers digging into her husband’s arm.

William smiled and proceeded them into the house. “I had to check on you, cousin. That was quite a turn you had the other night, quite a sight to see. And everyone did see it, didn’t they?” He tossed his hat on the bench in the hall. “You’re sullying our family’s good reputation with all this peculiar behavior. Look at you.” He gestured with an elegant hand at Brandon. “There’s something positively tattered about you.” William’s eyes glinted, his teeth dragging along his lower lip. “Quite extraordinary. You are the talk of the village.”

“I don’t give a toss,” Brandon said.

“Maybe you don’t, but I do. We share the same last name, and I have a wife and son to think of and business investments to consider. A family, a future. Do you think I’m going to stand by and allow you to destroy what I’ve built because you cannot control your pathetic impulses?”

“You put the laudanum in his drink, didn’t you?” Justine spit out.

Brandon’s posture stiffened, his knees locked, heat flushed through his body. “Is that true?”

William grinned at Justine. “What an intelligent slut you are.”

“You rotten bastard, don’t you dare speak to my wife that way!” Brandon’s lips curled.

“I’ll speak to her any way I like. You, however, will stay away from
my
wife.”

A hard grin slowly spread across Brandon’s face. “You didn’t like that did you? She wants it badly from me.”

Justine’s breath snagged in her throat. “Brandon—”

“Rest assured, cousin. I won’t be the one to give it to her.” Brandon leaned in towards him. “I don’t want her. Making her prance for me and watching you squirm was all the entertainment I required. She’s not half the woman my wife is.”

“Indeed?” William narrowed his eyes at Brandon and lowered his chin making the hard line of his jaw more distinct. “Your wife gave me quite a headache once upon a time.” William’s lips twitched. “You know about Andrew, but did she tell you the truth of it? I caught them on a lover’s walk, don’t you know? Exchanging letters, kisses, amorous murmurings at the folly. Seems they had a regular rendezvous there for quite some time.” Brandon glanced at Justine, her frozen gaze was pinned on her step-brother.

“I put a stop to it, like a good brother should.” William snickered. “Poor sod. She tried to get Andrew to marry her out from under my nose, because she didn’t want me choosing for her.”

“You wanted to save her for Wallace. A fine choice,” said Brandon.

“It would have been a respectable one. But she outmaneuvered me in quite a stellar way and succeeded. Didn’t you, Justine?” His gaze settled on her, a slight grin curling the edges of his lips. “She didn’t leave me many options. Luckily I saved our family’s reputation by marrying her to you. You should be grateful.”

“Grateful?”

His head tilted at Brandon, a dry laugh escaped his throat. “You don’t know?”

Brandon’s face twisted in a snarl, and he lunged at William shoving him against the wall.

“Stop it! Stop it!” Justine cried out.

“You and your wife belong together. I should add matchmaker to my list of talents,” said William laughing.

“Stay away from Justine!” Brandon shouted releasing him. “You and Montclare, stay away from my wife and from me or I swear to God—”

“Ah, defending her, how touching. I’m finding this most entertaining. I’m quite pleased that now people know what the real Lord of Wolfsgate is like,” William said. “No longer is he the prize of the county. No, from trying to seduce his own cousin’s wife, to his peculiar, unseemly behavior at a simple village dance. And now attacking his cousin who only wished to defend his wife’s honor and his family name. You have no shame.”

“Get out, damn you!”

William adjusted his clothes and smoothed back his hair, his fingers gripping the ends of his waistcoat momentarily. “As we are family, a duel would be unfortunate, ridiculous. Anyhow it’s a tedious business nowadays, rather démodé for my taste.”

Brandon seethed. “Leave, damn you. You are no longer welcome at Wolfsgate.”

William shifted his weight and raised his chin. “There is a price for that particular favor.”

Brandon raked his hands through his hair. “What are you on about?”

“One good turn deserves another,” William said. “Ten thousand pounds in my account by your Christmas party next week. Or I publicly blame my bruises on you and your ongoing squalid habits, and,” he pointed a finger at Justine, “I’ll make something else public knowledge while I’m at it to sweeten the pot.”

“What are you…?” Brandon sucked in air. “You poison me, humiliate me in public, then you come to my house and threaten me?”

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