A Scandalous Past (Regency Romance, Book 4) Page 21
***
The ability to maintain his temper under extraordinary circumstances was one of Brendan’s better qualities, or at least he’d always thought so. However, keeping calm in Lady Avery’s presence was a test of wills. Between the strained look on Thomas’ face and the way Cordie shook at the sight of her mother, his blood boiled. Still he needed the letters from the woman. He couldn’t lose his control.
Thomas tugged on his jacket and he looked at his nephew. It was obvious the boy had great need to speak with him, but he couldn’t let Cordie go unguarded either—not with images of her scarred back fresh in his mind. He wouldn’t leave his wife alone the entire time that harridan was under his roof.
“Fielding,” he addressed his butler, who looked rather confused on the lawn along with several footmen, maids, grooms. “Please have tea delivered to the blue salon for our guests. My countess, Thomas, and I will be there shortly. We have a bit of business to attend to first.”
His nephew gulped, and Brendan winked at him, hoping to relieve the boy of his anxiety.
Lady Avery harrumphed, but retreated to the house, trailed by half his staff. After waiting a moment, Brendan led his wife and nephew toward the gardens. With everyone else inside, it seemed the safest place to talk. “Thomas, what do you need to tell me?”
The boy frowned, glancing at Cordie, then shrugged, unwilling to speak.
His wife gently touched Thomas’ shoulder. “She hasn’t been too awful, has she?”
His nephew’s eyes lit up. “We were afraid…”
“That I was like her?” his wife supplied.
The boy shrugged again and Brendan ruffled his hair. “Not to worry, Tom. Nothing could be further from the truth. How’s Rose? Where is she?”
Thomas smiled. “Well, Richard Lester’s come back to the village—”
Richard Lester? Brendan’s day just went from bad to worse. When the young man had left Sudbury two years ago, Brendan had despaired for Rose’s health. She’d been so desperately in love with the fellow. “Oh, God,” he moaned. “What’s he doing here?” And what was Brendan going to do when Lester left again?
“Well, he took Mr. Pitney’s position at the vicarage.”
Richard Lester was the new vicar? Brendan rubbed his brow. The village had been trying for some time to replace the late Mr. Pitney. Never in a million years would he have thought the position would be filled by their old neighbor. “She’s with Lester?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
Thomas nodded his head. “Old Mrs. Lester invited her for lunch.”
Damn the woman! She knew exactly how badly Rose had handled her son’s departure. He heaved a sigh.
Cordie touched his arm, concern etched across her brow. “Is everything all right?”
He scoffed his answer. His immature sister was bound to get her heart broken a second time—not that he could do anything about it—and his offensive mother-in-law was visiting for an indeterminate amount of time. Cordie was right. They should have stayed in Scotland. “I’ll tell you all about it later, love.”
“Are you home for good?” Thomas asked. “Did you finish whatever business of grandmother’s you went to London for?”
He should have already told Cordie about the letters. He’d have to do so soon, but not now. They had too many other things to worry about at the moment. “Not quite. I’m still working on it.”
He avoided his wife’s questioning gaze.
***
Cordie had been anxious about her arrival at Bayhurst Court, but now she was very nearly trembling. Why had her mother come here? Brendan excused Thomas, who was relieved not to have to suffer through tea with Lady Avery. For that, Cordie was relieved too. Who knew what awful things her mother had said to the boy?
Brendan led her into his home and down a corridor. “Don’t worry. She can’t stay forever.”
After a few turns, he directed her into a parlor, and Cordie caught her breath. They were all here. Her mother, Russell, Tristan, even Gregory! “Goodness, was all this necessary?”
Her brothers all rose from their spots when she entered the room. “Good to see you too, Cor,” Tristan said with a wink.
They all resumed their places when Brendan led Cordie to a settee and sat beside her.
“So, are you married?” her mother demanded from a frilly chintz chair, scowling.
“Of course we are,” she replied. What did her mother think? That she’d taken off for Scotland with the earl but had gotten sidetracked?
Her mother shook her head with disapproval. “You are too reckless and willful for your own good!”
Brendan tensed next to her. “Then think how fortunate you are to have her off your hands, Lady Avery.”
“I would have expected better from you, my lord,” she shot back. “You saw fit to send a letter to Lord Astwick, but neither of you thought to send one to me? I was beside myself with worry.”
“Haversham told us what happened,” Russell offered quietly from his corner. “So we weren’t that worried.”
“I wrote a letter. In Stamford,” Cordie protested. “And it was a very good letter. Clayworth read it himself.”
“Indeed,” Brendan stiffly added from her side. “We sent both letters from the inn. Cordie’s letter to you and mine to Astwick.”
Her mother went on as if she hadn’t heard a word. “Then we arrived here, and—” she humphed indignantly— “well, my lord, if I’d had any inkling of the sort of household you run, I’d have never let you near my daughter.”
“Mother!” Gregory hissed.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Brendan asked, sliding forward in his seat, leveling her with his iciest glare.
“It means, sir,” Lady Avery began, her shrill voice echoing off the walls, “that you have some bastard child running around this place and that sister of yours is… Well, I don’t even know what to call her.”
Cordie cringed. Her mother was the most cruel of any person she’d ever met. Brendan didn’t deserve this treatment. All he’d done was rescue her from her own folly.
The blood drained from Brendan’s face, and Cordie placed her hand on his back, wishing them both away from her family. “Madam,” he clipped out. “I’ll have your bags packed and you can be on your way.”
Lady Avery leapt from her seat, glaring at him. “The sooner, the better.” Then she turned her eyes on Cordie. “I always knew you’d end up ruined. I take no pleasure from being right.”
“Or you could leave now, and I’ll have your bags sent after you,” Brendan suggested with a sneer.
~ 30 ~
His wife’s three brothers gaped at him, and Brendan rubbed his brow, hoping to stave off a headache. He probably should have held his temper better, but the acidic words that spewed from the woman’s mouth made it impossible for him to keep his control. For her to speak so disparagingly about Thomas and Rose and then Cordie—he couldn’t sit back and listen to it. If she was a man, he’d have throttled her.
The brother he’d never met before, which meant he had to be Lord Avery, pushed his wire-rimmed glasses up his nose. “Well, good for you, Clayworth. Someone should have said that a long time ago.”
Then the two officers roared with laughter. “I’ve never seen her turn quite that shade of purple,” Lieutenant Avery chortled.
“Or speechless,” Captain Avery added, though he tried to bring his merriment under control.
“It’s hardly a laughing matter,” Cordie chastised her brothers, looking from one to the others. “How could you bring her here?”
Lord Avery shook his head. “You don’t honestly think we brought her here, do you? She’d already trapped these two in her clutches before abducting me from Pappelwick. I think my ears are still bleeding from her wailing the whole journey.”
Captain Avery grinned. “Yes, we had to rush out here, to make sure you were safe, Cordie.”
Brendan’s jaw clenched. Make sure she was safe. Where were these big strapping men when Lady Avery wa
s taking her frustrations out on Cordie? So the captain and lieutenant were abroad, but what was Gregory Avery’s excuse?
“Well, as you can see, I am perfectly safe and legally married,” she replied tartly. “So, love you all as I do, there is no reason for you to stay. Do have a nice trip back.”
Lieutenant Avery chuckled. “You do need to work on your hostess skills, sis. I’m starting to feel unwanted.”
“Are you saying I should be more cordial to my uninvited guests?”
When her brothers dissolved into another peal of laughter, Brendan calculated the odds of his wife being furious with him if he murdered the trio. He somehow thought she might be a bit miffed. Instead, he cleared his throat and leveled Captain Avery with a firm stare. After all, the middle brother did seem to be the most serious of the group. “If Cordie’s letter didn’t make it to Avery House, what’s the word about Town?”
“Am I ruined?” Cordie asked quietly beside him.
The captain shook his head. “Ah, well, Lord Astwick has taken care of that situation. The fellow does have an imagination. Every female in Town is enchanted by his flowery version of your great love story, complete with a spontaneous elopement. Of course, the men would like a word with you for making them all look bad.”
Lieutenant Avery added, “And then there’s Brookfield. He’s furious, says you stole Cordie from him.”
Captain Avery snorted. “Please. He’s an opium eater. No one pays any attention to him.”
Brendan frowned at the statement. He hadn’t heard that about the viscount, but now that the captain mentioned it, the viscount did seem odd. He’d had the look of a desperate man when he’d proposed to Cordie on the steps of Avery House, and his eyes didn’t quite seem right. At the time, Brendan had only focused on his outlandish behavior. It was indeed fortunate he’d come across Cordie that particular day before Brookfield got his hands on her. The man wasn’t even in his right mind.
“An opium eater?” Cordie asked, her green eyes wide.
Captain Avery nodded. “I’ve seen the look on countless soldiers’ faces. They start on the stuff in army hospitals for pain, and then it starts to become something else. I’m not sure what started Brookfield on his course, but I know an eater when I see one.”
“But everyone else is appeased?” Brendan asked? He’d owe Astwick the rest of his life for pulling this off.
“What about Haversham?” Cordie asked, causing Brendan to scowl. What did she care what that bastard thought? “Has he said anything?”
Her brothers’ smiles vanished instantly. At least they were all of a mind about Haversham. The lieutenant sat forward in his seat, glaring at his sister. “You’re lucky Clayworth got to you first. I don’t even know what I would have done to you.”
“He was right out of his mind,” the captain confirmed. “Scared the devil out of poor Miss Greywood. I’ve never seen Tris so furious. Poor girl was shaking like a leaf by the time he was through with her.”
“What did you do to Phoebe?” Cordie demanded.
Lieutenant Avery scoffed. “Nothing she didn’t deserve. Annoying little twit. Helping you take off like that. Her brother ought to keep a better eye on her.”
The room fell silent, as all three Avery men realized they should have kept a better eye on their sister. But for once, Brendan was glad they hadn’t. If things had been different, he might never have convinced Cordie to marry him. The ineptitude of the brothers Avery had been a blessing in disguise.
Still there was the matter of the letters. Lady Avery would probably not speak with him, so he’d have to deal with the baron. That was probably better anyway. He wasn’t certain he could contain his fury with his mother-in-law for even the smallest amount of time. “I am assuming you’re Lord Avery,” he said to the dark haired fellow with green eyes hidden behind wire- rimmed glasses.
The man blushed and rushed forward with his hand outstretched. “My apologies, Clayworth. How unforgivably rude. Gregory Avery, your humble servant. I can’t thank you enough for…well, for saving Cordie from her own recklessness.”
His wife stiffened at his side, so Brendan took her hand in his and squeezed reassuringly. “It was my pleasure. I would like a moment of your time however, Lord Avery. I have something of a sensitive nature I need to discuss with you.”
“Of course.”
Brendan stood, then eyed the two officers with his sternest look. “If either of you leave my wife alone with that woman, I’ll have your heads.”
The two exchanged identical looks of surprise. “Bit overprotective,” Captain Avery replied. “What do you think mother’s going to do?”
He’d rather not think about the answer to that question, and he darkened his scowl. “Do I have your word to keep Cordie in your sight?”
“Brendan, that’s not necessary,” she whispered.
But it was necessary. He hated leaving her himself, but he’d rather deal with Lord Avery in private. Cordie didn’t need to know the particulars. “Captain? Lieutenant?” He waited until both officers answered in the affirmative before he led Lord Avery to his study.
The baron tried to relieve the tension by trying to explain that their mother meant well, and she’d just been worried about Cordie’s wellbeing. Brendan barely paid attention to the man’s words, though he did get the impression Lord Avery felt his mother was harmless. Now was not the time to dispel his thoughts on the subject. At the moment he’d rather not alienate the man, since he needed his assistance. There would be plenty of time in the future to go down that particular road.
He offered his brother-in-law a glass of whiskey when they entered his study, then poured one for himself before sliding into the seat behind his mahogany desk.
“This is about the dowry?” Gregory Avery asked, before taking a swallow of whiskey.
Dowry? That hadn’t even crossed his mind until now. He’d be glad to forgo that for his mother’s letters. He had no need of her money. “No.” Brendan shook his head. “I know you’re aware of my previous marriage,” he began.
Lord Avery blanched. “Oh, God.” He placed his glass on the edge of Brendan’s desk, squeezed his eyes shut ran a hand through his dark hair.
Well, it was obvious the baron was familiar with the topic of conversation. The rest should be easy. Certainly Avery wouldn’t want his sister’s life to be turned upside down from the contents of the letters. Brendan slid forward in his seat. “Well, about that—”
“I didn’t know you knew,” Lord Avery said with a wince.
Of course he knew. His wife had taunted him with their existence. “Marina didn’t exactly make a secret of it.”
Apparently unable to remain seated, the baron stood and paced around the room. “I-I… Oh, God!” The man sounded positively tortured.
“There’s no reason for all this, Avery. I just want what’s mine.”
The baron stopped in his tracks and the color slowly drained from his face. “Are you going to make Cordie suffer because of me?”
It was now obvious they weren’t talking about the same thing, though Brendan wasn’t quite certain what the topic was at the moment. He frowned at his brother-in-law. “Why would I do that?”
“To punish me,” the baron answered quickly. “But I’ve been suffering for years, Clayworth. I lost her, and I lost my child for God’s sake. Isn’t that enough? Cordie shouldn’t be made to pay the price for my indiscretions.”
Brendan’s mind raced, trying to make sense of Gregory Avery’s blathering. Until he hit on the answer, or at least suspected he had a fairly good idea of what the young baron was talking about. He suddenly felt sick. Gregory Avery was the father of Marina’s child, or at least he thought he was. The answer was clear as day. Lord Avery thought he wanted to berate him for his past with Marina.
Brendan heaved a sigh. At least he was on the right trail. The lion holds your secrets, Marina had said. Gregory Avery was the head of his family. His crest was a roaring lion. Marina had given the letters to her lover fo
r safe-keeping. Gregory Avery was the lion. “All I want, Avery, are my mother’s letters. Return them to me and all is forgiven.”
The man gaped at him. “What letters?”
~ 31 ~
What letters?
Brendan shook his head as irritation flooded him. Did this man intend to play him for a fool? More of a fool than he’d already played him for? He clenched his jaw and slowly rose from his seat, keeping his eyes leveled on his brother-in-law all the while. “I’m in no mood for games, Avery. I know Marina gave you letters that belonged to my mother and I want them back. Where are they? London? Nottinghamshire?”
The man shook his head, staring at him in bewilderment. “Marina never gave me any letters, Clayworth. She never gave me anything,” he replied sadly.
Brendan clutched the corner of his desk. Damn if the man didn’t look sincere. But it didn’t make any sense. Avery was the lion. Avery was her lover. Who else would she have given the letters to? Had she hidden them somewhere? “Where did your…liaisons take place with my wife?”
Gregory Avery gulped nervously. “I—We… Marina always came to me at Rufford Hall. It started when she would visit Eleanor, but over the years after Ellie was gone, she’d come under the ruse of visiting mother and Cordie.”
Dear God! Brendan winced. Not Lady Avery. “If she didn’t give the letters to you, then she gave them to your mother. I need them.”
His brother-in-law narrowed his eyes. “Why? What’s in them?”
Brendan stared at Gregory Avery and he clamped his mouth shut. He’d never spoken the awful words aloud to anyone, not his friends, not Cordie, not even to himself. He certainly couldn’t say it to one of the men who’d cuckolded him. “Because they’re mine,” he growled. “And I think you’ve taken quite enough from me, don’t you?”
“I—I,” Lord Avery stuttered, then he squared his shoulders. “Look, Clayworth, I know I was in the wrong. I’ve told myself over the years that, because I loved her and you didn’t, that it was all right. I suppose God will decide that in the end. But putting my past indiscretions aside, if you’re involved with something nefarious, something that could hurt my sister, I have a right to know.”