“I didn’t expect them to welcome me, but after meeting his great-aunt, I see I should be prepared for outright hostility.”
“At least Lady Agatha is the worst. Lucian calls her a battle-ax.”
“I cannot say I disagree.”
Raven’s laugh was musical and sweetly infectious, and her blue eyes danced when she regarded Brynn thoughtfully. “I heard you were a beauty, and I feared you might be the arrogant sort, but you aren’t in the least, are you? I think I am going to like you.”
Brynn couldn’t help but smile. “You can conclude that after barely meeting me?”
“Oh, I’m an excellent judge of character. And I don’t care at all for the starched attitude of London society. I was raised in the West Indies, where everything is much less formal and conventional.”
“Perhaps you should be concerned that you might be contaminated by a hussy and a jezebel.”
“If you are a hussy, then we will be well-matched. Lady Agatha considers me an utter hoyden. I confess, I have been aching for eons to put her nose out of joint as you just did. No one else dares speak back to her except Lucian.”
Brynn laughed. “Would you care to sit down, Miss Kendrick?”
“Thank you, but do call me Raven. And I would love some tea, if your offer is still open.”
Brynn glanced toward the door to find Naysmith hovering respectfully just outside. He gave a brief nod to indicate that he understood and then disappeared.
When they were settled-Raven on the chintz settee and Brynn in a chair opposite-Raven said with a frown, “Lucian is still out of town, I take it? It was really too bad of him to abandon you so soon after your nuptials, leaving you to face the wolves alone, but I suppose his job requires him to be away. Where is he this time?”
Brynn hesitated, not liking to admit she had no idea where her husband was. “He didn’t say, exactly. Just that he had urgent business to attend to.”
“Well, he is always gallivanting over the globe.” Raven gave Brynn a considering look that was both shrewd and sympathetic. “So you should not take his neglect personally.”
Brynn refrained from replying to that comment, finding it hard to repress her bitterness.
Evidently observant, Raven said in a firm voice, “Well, you needn’t think yourself all alone, for I intend to make up for Lucian’s despicable negligence.”
“Are you always this forthright?” Brynn asked, both bemused and charmed by her visitor’s frankness.
Raven laughed. “Ordinarily I am worse, but I am striving to be on my best behavior with you. Truthfully, though, I can get away with more scandalous behavior than many debs. I am engaged to wed the Duke of Halford, and my grandfather is an earl- which gives me more license. And I am not really showing conceit when I say I can help establish you in society. I mean to try, so consider yourself warned. I intend to take you under my wing.”
“Very well, then,” Brynn said with an answering laugh. “I am warned.”
“London is rather thin of company at present, but there are plenty of other pastimes. Do you ride? ”
“Not well, I’m afraid.”
“I customarily enjoy a gallop in the park early each morning, but I won’t mind curtailing my speed for the pleasure of having your company, if you will join me. Our first outing, however, must be to Oxford Street to shop for my bride clothes. My aunt has been helping me prepare for my nuptials, but her taste is vastly different from mine. Your opinion would be greatly welcome.”
“I would be happy to accompany you, if you think I can help.”
“And of course you must have a new wardrobe. You will need to maintain the height of fashion if you mean to establish your place as the Countess of Wycliff.”
Brynn frowned. “Perhaps I do need a new gown or two, but I cannot see any reason for the extravagance of an entire wardrobe.”
“Trust me, you will need it in order to stare down the despots of the ton such as Lady Agatha. You cannot have them saying Lucian refuses to dress his lady and add even more fuel for gossip after your unexpected marriage. In any case, Lucian can certainly afford it, and he truly should be made to pay for his dreadful treatment of you.”
Brynn felt her lips curving in a smile, finding herself in complete agreement. She was supremely grateful to have found a new friend among the hostile populace of London. And for the first time since coming here, she could look forward to something other than aching loneliness.
Chapter Eight
Despite his best intentions, Lucian felt his heartbeat quicken with anticipation as he mounted the front steps of his London residence. His desire to see Brynn was a powerful yearning inside him-a yearning he had vowed to crush. He wouldn’t allow his craving for his beautiful wife to make him shirk his duty again.
“Welcome home, my lord,” his butler intoned, stepping back to permit him entrance.
“Thank you, Naysmith.” Lucian glanced around him as he handed the servant his hat and gloves, repressing an unreasonable disappointment that Brynn wasn’t there to greet him. “Where is my wife?”
“Her ladyship is not at home,” Naysmith answered.
Lucian raised an eyebrow. His secretary had sent him two different reports of Brynn over the past week, but there had been no mention of any social functions that would keep her out at this late hour.
“She is attending a soiree with Miss Kendrick, I believe,” was the butler’s explanation. “At the home of Lord and Lady Sinclair.”
“Ah.” Damien Sinclair was one of Lucian’s closest friends and one of the few peers who usually remained in London during the warm summer months. Like Lucian, Damien had governmental responsibilities he couldn’t forsake simply for personal convenience, although Damien’s skills lay in the area of finance, not espionage.
“Will you be joining Lady Wycliff, my lord? Shall I order your carriage?”
Lucian considered a moment, then shook his head. It was nearly ten o’clock, and he’d sworn he would try to distance himself from Brynn, try to quell his obsession. It would hardly be in keeping with his new resolve to go running after her the moment he arrived home. “No, I won’t be going out again. I’ll spend the remainder of the evening in my study.”
“Very well, my lord.”
Naysmith preceded him into the study to light the lamps and pour a glass of brandy. He left the hearth untouched, since the August evening was too warm for a fire.
Accepting the crystal snifter, Lucian dismissed the butler and settled in his favorite leather armchair. Yet his thoughts were too restless for him to enjoy the peace and comfort of his home.
His fury and frustration had only grown over the past week. The investigation into the murders and missing gold had reached a dead end, while his search for the elusive mastermind, Caliban, had been just as fruitless.
His ineffectiveness galled Lucian. He had vowed to find and punish the ringleader, but meanwhile the only action he could take to prevent further thefts was purely defensive. He’d ordered a new schedule of gold transfers drawn up, a schedule that only a handful of people would be privy to this time. But that still couldn’t guarantee the gold would be safe in the future, or that he could avert further murders.
For a moment Lucian shut his eyes, unable to drive away the images in his mind-the bodies of the dead guards littering the road like refuse. The slaughter had left him shaken.
Lucian took a deep swallow of brandy, welcoming its fierce burn. Guilt was a familiar companion to him, he reflected darkly. It had driven him to join the intelligence section of the Foreign Office nearly six years ago, eschewing the self-indulgent, frivolous life of a wealthy nobleman. He’d taken that unusual course to relieve his conscience; he’d felt a vague shame that he had lived while so many others had not.