“Indeed, I have,” her father said. “Seems Brynne has been punished as well, thanks to you. He won’t be staying for Suzannah’s wedding. That being the situation, he’s agreed to escort you to my Aunt Frances.”
Lettie’s eyes rounded in surprise. “What? But that’s outrageous! Why would Brynne be punished for something that was entirely my fault?”
Because I’m an inconvenient nobody to them and they’ll latch onto any excuse to be rid of me.
He didn’t need to say it aloud. The earl knew why and he saw the moment Lettie realized it as well, for her soft green eyes turned anguished. “I’ll make it up to you, Brynne. I promise.”
“There’s nothing to be done. Leave it alone, Lettie.”
But her hands were now curled into fists of determination and he knew he’d have a hard time talking her out of her resolve. “I can’t leave it alone.” She began to nibble her exquisitely formed lips, no doubt plotting how to repair the unexpected damage she’d caused him.
“Their decision is made. You’ll only make matters worse.”
“But–”
“No, Lettie. They’re my family and my problem to deal with.” He gentled his voice, not wishing to hurt her, but her meddling would only lead to more hurt. “You do realize that at this moment, you’re the only person in England they dislike more than me.”
He worried that he’d aimed that teasing jab too close to her heart, but she seemed to take his words without offense and smiled at him. “Quite an accomplishment on my part, I’d say. Very well, I’ll keep silent. But I still hate the way they treat you. I really do, Brynne.”
“I know.” No one had a sweeter, kinder heart than Lettie.
He looked away, suddenly overwhelmed by the need to kiss her soft, full lips. He loved their generous shape, and loved the exotic, cat-like slant of her eyes. Hell, was there anything he didn’t love about the girl?
She leaned forward and placed her hand on his for the briefest moment to regain his attention. “Perhaps this was meant to be. I’ve just had the most wonderful idea. I know you don’t believe in Jeremiah, but–”
“Bloody hell,” her father muttered. “Not him again.”
She ignored her father and concentrated her full attention on Brynne. “Yes, him again. He’s real and I intend to prove it to you. Jeremiah is going to help me find out who you are, Brynne. I know how important it is to you, and after your ill treatment at the hands of those horrid Woodburne relatives, it’s imperative that we find out. We’ll start on the project as soon as we reach Wrexham.”
Brynne stifled a groan. “No, Lettie. It’s a terrible idea. I’m only staying long enough to drop you off with Lady Frances and rest Valiant. No more than a few hours at most.”
She gazed at him in stunned silence for a moment, but only for a brief moment. Lettie was never good at restraining her feelings. “You can’t go! Not until after Christmas, at the earliest. I couldn’t bear to think of you alone over the holidays. You must stay. Aunt Frances will insist upon it. She’s getting on in years and not accepting as many social engagements as she used to, so she’ll be eager for your company as well as mine.”
She took a deep, shaky breath and let it out with shattering sorrow. “Not yet, Brynne. Not that soon.Please.It’s so important… and you’re going to be angry with me again, but I must speak.” She drew another deep breath. “Jeremiah promised me that all will be revealed to you. He showed me wolves in my dreams last night.”
Although Lettie could be persuasive when she wanted something from him, Brynne wasn’t about to indulge her now. He dismissed her remark and rose to leave. “Of course, you’ve been dreaming of wolves. You’re about to be banished to Wrexham to reside with your grandaunt, Lady Frances Wolverton. Wolves…Wolverton, it isn’t a stretch to connect the two.”
She gazed upward at him. “The wolves in my dreams looked remarkably like your birthmark.”
Despite what Lettie said, he wasn’t staying for Christmas with her and Lady Frances, as much as he truly liked the old dowager.
“Jeremiah was most insistent. He said that this is your moment, your one chance to find out the truth. And if you knew anything about guardian angels, you’d know they rarely insist upon anything. This is a major breakthrough. We must pay attention.”
He ignored her pleading gaze.
He didn’t believe in her so-called angel, Jeremiah.
“Well, Brynne? What do you think?” He hated that she cared so much about him, and hated that she ached to see him happy. It wasn’t going to happen. There was only one thing that would ever make him happy and it was out of his reach.
“Wolves, Lettie? Seriously?” Glowering, he planted his hands on either side of her chair and leaned in close so that they were almost nose to nose. “Here’s what I think about your so-called guardian angel and his ridiculous ideas.” He paused the length of a heartbeat. “If I ever run into Jeremiah, I’m going to kick his scrawny, celestial ass from here to the Pearly Gates.”
Brynne returned toBeresford Hall the following morning to collect Lettie for their journey to Wrexham. The overcast sky, sodark and threatening, reflected his own gloom, for he and Lettie would share a two day ride in the earl’s carriage and then he’d never see her again. Two days alone with Lettie.
However, they would not be alone at night. Lord Beresford had arranged for them to stop in Preston to stay overnight with his cousin, a vicar by the name of Edward Falconer, a man who was unlike any representative of the church Brynne had ever known.
Brynne was well acquainted with the vicar, for the man was often at Beresford Hall. A reformed smuggler and womanizer, he always seemed more suited to military service or espionage than to issuing Sunday sermons. Brynne liked him, for unlike most supposedly pious men, he didn’t pass judgement and had immediately accepted him on the basis of his character and not on the circumstances of his birth.
He and Lettie would stay at the vicar’s residence in Preston tonight and then venture south to Wrexham on the second day if the rain held off.
