Выбрать главу

There was no question that he was obsessed with Brynn. Cursed or not, her beauty made him ache, her passion drove him mad with wanting. But love?

It had always been an elusive concept for him, yet he was undoubtedly behaving like a man caught in the throes of love. He’d seen two of his friends suffer the same torment. Both Damien and Nick had found passionate love when they least expected it.

He keenly envied the happiness they had found with their wives, Lucian admitted. And he wanted it for himself. For Brynn.

Lucian squeezed his eyes shut. Whether or not he loved her, she was a fever in his blood. He desperately wanted to make her feel the same fever. He wanted to bind her to him with primal need, to brand her soul with the fire that was searing him. And yet…

Opening his eyes, he stared down at the box. Considering her unenthusiastic reaction to his gift, his goal of winning Brynn seemed as far away as ever. And not because of any real incompatibility between them. His greatest enemy was a damned curse he didn’t even believe in.

“Is something troubling you, Brynn?” Raven asked a short while later as they rode together in Hyde Park.

Brynn forced her attention away from her dark thoughts and managed a brief smile of apology. “Forgive me, what were you saying?”

“Nothing of importance. I merely asked if you might like to attend a fair.” She pointed to a handbill nailed to a tree, advertising an upcoming fair to be held in Westminster.

Brynn edged her mount closer so she could read the touted list of entertainments: Jugglers, Puppeteers, Rope Dancers, Gypsy Fortune-tellers- The last words leapt out at her. She frowned, wondering if the band of Gypsies she knew from Cornwall would be performing at the fair. She seemed to remember they were usually in London this time of year…

Brynn drew a slow breath. If Esmerelda truly were here, perhaps she might be able to offer some advice. Perhaps she might even, Brynn reflected hopefully, help explain her dark dreams of Lucian.

Before she could reply, however, Raven gave a faint sigh. “No matter. I don’t suppose Halford would approve of my attending. He has very narrow opinions regarding the conduct of his future duchess, and I doubt a fair would fit into the acceptable category.” Her tone held a perceptible note of disappointment in her betrothed, but then she shook her head. “Still, Halford did loosen his starch enough to agree to my request for the balloon ascension this week.” With a determined smile, Raven spurred her horse on.

Brynn followed, although she cast a glance over her shoulder at the handbill, noting again the dates and location of the fair. If she could manage it, she would try to attend in the hopes that Esmerelda might be found there, for she desperately needed advice about her future with Lucian from someone who knew the deadly history of the Gypsy’s curse.

The curse remained the dark blot on Brynn’s horizon. She had attempted to repress the warnings of her conscience, yet she was brutally reminded of the danger a few days later when Lucian escorted her to the balloon ascension held by the Duke of Halford in honor of his betrothed.

Several brightly colored balloons awaited flight, Brynn saw with delight upon reaching the field on the outskirts of London. Her attention claimed by the spectacle, she accepted Lucian’s assistance from the carriage and was crossing the road on his arm when she heard the sound of galloping hooves. Brynn looked up to see a team of straining horses hurtling directly toward them, apparently out of control.

She froze in her tracks, her mind registering the specter of a driver in a hooded cloak wielding a savage whip.

Lucian, fortunately, didn’t share her paralysis. With a desperate lunge, he shoved Brynn out of the path of the lethal threat and flung himself after her, a bare instant before the coach thundered past.

Both of them lay on the ground stunned, staring after the runaway vehicle.

Lucian recovered first. Uttering a low curse, he climbed to his feet and helped her up. “Are you hurt?” he asked, both his gaze and hands examining her for injuries.

Her face was white as she regarded him numbly.

“You could have been killed,” she whispered, her voice raw.

“Either of us could have been killed,” he replied, his own tone grim. “But it most likely was an accident. A bolting team isn’t uncommon.”

Yet she didn’t believe him, Lucian could see clearly from her petrified expression.

And in truth, he didn’t have total faith in his own reassurances. It wasn’t implausible that someone had just attempted to kill him; in his line of work, he tended to make enemies. But he doubted a centuries-old curse was to blame for the near-fatal accident.

Yet convincing Brynn of that, Lucian reflected darkly, was as unlikely as their ascending to the skies without the assistance of a balloon.

Chapter Sixteen

After the ominous carriage incident, Brynn’s feelings of dread returned with a vengeance. So did her dark dream of Lucian dying while she stood over him, her hands stained with his blood. Her sense of urgency, however, deepened to near panic when she actually found herself with child.

It was her maid, Meg, who first recognized the symptoms. Brynn was dressing for her morning ride when she began to feel strangely nauseated. When she pressed a hand to her stomach, Meg took one look at her face and went to fetch the chamber pot.

“You should sit, milady. Put your head down, between your legs… There, that’s it.”

Sinking down into a chair, Brynn obeyed, wondering what was wrong with her. She was rarely ill, and she had eaten nothing to cause this bilious sensation. She covered her mouth with her hand and tried to take slow, deep breaths as her maid ordered.

“It will pass in time,” Meg said soothingly, stroking her mistress’s forehead. “Once your stomach starts to swell, you’ll not feel ill. I scarce feel it now.”

“Swell?”

“With the babe.”

Startled, Brynn stared down at her abdomen. Was it possible? Was she carrying Lucian’s child within her body? But of course, considering their determined efforts to conceive. And somehow she knew it was true.

A ripple of joy flowed through her, followed by a sharp pang of dismay. A child only made her dilemma more difficult. Lucian had promised they could live separate lives in exchange for her giving him a son, but heaven help her, she didn’t want to leave her child behind.

Brynn raised a hand to her temple. In all likelihood, she would have no choice. She had to protect Lucian, whatever the personal cost. Indeed, if she were wise, she would leave him now, immediately, before the risk to his life grew any greater.

“Will his lordship be pleased, do you think?”

Brynn nodded slowly. Lucian would be elated when she gave him the news, but what then? Once he knew of her pregnancy, there would be no chance of her evading him. He would insist on her remaining by his side, under the care of the best doctors. She would have to endure his tenderness day and night…

She doubted she could be strong enough for so long a duration. Each day that passed, her feelings for Lucian grew ever more acute. She couldn’t envision keeping her heart’s defenses intact until she gave birth. Certainly she could never spend a lifetime with Lucian and maintain an emotionless detachment. Perhaps she should indeed leave him at once, before it was too late…

No, Brynn reflected, she didn’t dare tell him about her pregnancy. Not until she had decided her course of action.

“I don’t intend to inform him just yet, Meg,” she murmured, trying to swallow her nausea. “Not until I’m certain I truly am with child. Please, I would like to keep it between ourselves.”

“Of course, milady. Whatever you wish.”