Nicole Jordan - Desire

“Wales?”

“To the Wycliff castle there, where you’ll remain until my child is born. It will serve to separate you from your brother. Meanwhile, you may consider yourself under house arrest.”

“Arrest?” Her eyes widened with alarm.

“Yes. This house is surrounded, Brynn. If you attempt to leave, you’ll be arrested. Your brother, as well. You won’t succeed in your conspiracy.”

“Lucian, please-”

“I’ve heard enough.”

He started to turn away, but Brynn grasped his arm, detaining him. “What do you intend to do?”

“Prevent your brother from delivering the gold to our country’s enemies.”

A look of fear crossed her face. “You can’t involve yourself, Lucian.”

“Can’t I?”

“You’ll be killed. Please, I beg you…”

Lucian gritted his teeth. She wasn’t as concerned for his life as for her brother’s, he well knew. He could understand why Brynn wanted to protect Sir Grayson-because she was fiercely loyal to her family-but it galled him just the same that she would choose a traitor over him. But no amount of pleading would keep him from apprehending her brother.

Brynn evidently sensed his determination, for she took a deep, shaky breath. “Very well, then. I will take you to Grayson.”

Lucian gave her a sharp glance. Her tears were under control now, and her expression was emotionless, without a show of any feeling whatsoever. “What are you saying?”

“You don’t know where to look for him. I can show you.”

“I don’t need your help. I told you, if he attempts to leave, he’ll be arrested. He won’t get far.”

“He won’t be seen leaving the house, Lucian. You may search all you want, but you won’t find him.”

Lucian hesitated, wondering if this was yet another of Brynn’s silken lies.

“I will lead you to him. And the gold. I believe I know where he’s hidden it.”

His eyes narrowed. “Tell me.”

“No.” Brynn shook her head. “I won’t let you go alone, Lucian.”

He took a menacing step toward her, but she held her ground. “I am going with you.”

“Do you think me a complete gull? You expect me to follow you blindly into a trap you’ve plotted with your brother?”

A look of pain crossed her face. “I haven’t plotted any trap.”

“You aren’t going anywhere, Brynn. You are still my wife, and carrying my child. Traitor or not, I don’t want you endangered.”

“I don’t want you endangered, either. In any case, my brother would never harm me.”

“But his cohorts would. He’s right about the smuggling ring being vicious. They won’t think twice about wrapping that fiery hair of yours around your throat and strangling you with it.”

“I know. Why do you think I wanted a pistol?”

When that gave him pause, she pressed her argument. “What do you think I was planning, Lucian? I intended to stop Grayson myself, so you wouldn’t have to. I know you don’t believe me, but it’s true.”

Irate that she would continue her brash falsehoods, Lucian raised both hands to cup them around her throat in a velvet grip.

She gazed back at him mutely, anguish in her eyes.

With another savage oath, Lucian let his hands fall away. “Wait here,” he demanded.

“Lucian…”

Rejecting her plea out of hand, he left Brynn in the study, shutting and locking the door behind him. Striding swiftly along the corridor to the front entrance, he let himself out and descended into the darkness.

Philip Barton appeared out of the night. “My lord?”

“What have you seen of Sir Grayson? Has he made an appearance this evening?”

“No, he hasn’t left the house.”

At least not by any of the conventional portals, Lucian concluded. He could order the house searched, but he suspected Brynn was being truthful for once; Sir Grayson wouldn’t be found. There had to be a hidden passage within the house, Lucian realized. He might find it eventually, but his efforts could prove too late.

Philip seemed able to read his mind. “I have men patrolling the beach, as you ordered.”

“They still could slip past with the gold,” Lucian said grimly.

“What do you wish me to do?”

What indeed? Lucian wondered. If Brynn was telling the truth, she could lead him to her brother and the gold.

And what then? Would she then spring her trap?

Did he really have a choice, though? He couldn’t risk letting the gold fall into French hands. He would have to accept Brynn’s terms, despite the danger.

“Have your men maintain their posts,” Lucian said, turning on his heel. The price of trusting his wife might be his own life, but he had no better option.

Lucian allowed Brynn to go first with the lamp while he carried his own pistol at the ready. He wasn’t surprised when she led him through the now-dark kitchens to the wine cellars below, nor when she slipped behind a wall of casks and bent low to open a short oaken door.

“This leads to the coast?” he asked.

“Yes. There are several caves beneath the house, connected by tunnels. The entrance from the shore is hidden in a crevice in the cliff wall.”

“Convenient for your family,” Lucian remarked sardonically.

Brynn shot him a glance but didn’t respond.

When she disappeared through the opening, Lucian followed. A narrow flight of steps hewn into the rock descended into the darkness.

Neither of them spoke as they moved downward. Brynn’s lamp cast flickering shadows over the rock, which was streaked with red and green and purple. When they reached the bottom step, the underground passage flattened out, but Lucian had to stoop to keep from striking his head.

Eventually the tunnel opened into a small cavern where he could stand up straight. This natural hideaway would be ideal for storing a cache of contraband, he knew. The Cornish coast was honeycombed with coves and ravines where a smuggler’s ketch could slip in undetected, but getting the trafficked goods to and from the beach presented a greater challenge. The usual goods would be bulky- bolts of silk, velvet, and lace, casks of wine, kegs of brandy, perhaps tea, all smuggled into the country to avoid the high taxes imposed by the British government because of the interminable war.

The floor of the cavern was wet and treacherously slick, Lucian saw, the rock worn smooth over the centuries by a trickling stream coming from deep underground. When Brynn slipped once, he reached out instinctively to steady her. She flinched at that casual contact, and Lucian drew his hand back abruptly, feeling burned himself.

She moved on through the cave into another man-made passageway cut through the rock. He glanced around carefully, marking his way, before following her. Soon he could hear the distant sound of the sea as it surged against the base of the cliffs.

Shortly the tunnel spilled into another cavern, this one already dimly illuminated by a lantern. Urgently Lucian put a hand on Brynn’s shoulder, silently detaining her. Some fifteen feet away, her brother Grayson was pacing the floor-rather nervously, Lucian saw.

Stepping past Brynn into the cavern, Lucian called out Sir Grayson’s name. The man spun around, reaching for the pistol in his belt. He froze when he saw the weapon aimed at his heart.

Lucian gestured with the barrel of his gun. “I suggest you put it down… slowly.”

For a moment Grayson’s hand clenched around the grip, but then he did as he was bid, carefully withdrawing his pistol and setting it on the rocky ground.

Then he flung his sister a despairing look. “You led him here, didn’t you? Are you pleased with yourself, Brynn, betraying your own flesh and blood?”

The pain on her face was visible, Lucian saw with a glance over his shoulder.

“I didn’t betray you,” she said hoarsely. “Lucian found us out somehow. But I was coming to find you, in any case. There may be another way out, Gray. One that doesn’t involve committing treason.”

Grayson clenched his fists, his fury evident. “Damn you, I told you, there is no other way.”

“What’s this?” Lucian interjected sardonically. “Dissension among thieves? I should think, Sir Grayson, you would show your sister more gratitude. You could never have stolen my seal ring without her help.”

Grayson’s wrathful focus shifted, and he glared at Lucian. “Brynn had nothing whatever to do with my appropriating your ring. I took it from your study over her adamant objections, and then tricked her into keeping silent.”

“Then used it to help our country’s enemies steal a scheduled shipment of gold.”

His gaze lowered. “Apparently so. I’m not proud of that. But you cannot blame Brynn. She played no part in it.”

Lucian raised a skeptical eyebrow, unsurprised that Grayson had come so readily to her defense. “You expect me to believe you? A traitor?”

“Believe what you choose, my lord. But I am solely responsible. Brynn hasn’t been involved until tonight when I demanded that she drug you.”

Lucian’s mouth curled. “And drugging me is supposed to absolve her?”

“She did it to save your hide, to keep you safe from Caliban’s men. You’re the one who should be grateful, Wycliff.”

A strange sense of relief filled Lucian to hear Brynn’s claim repeated. Perhaps, just possibly, she wasn’t guilty of treason after all.

“I intend to deal with my wife later,” Lucian replied. “For now, you’re my chief concern. I’ll thank you to return to the house with me.”

Grayson’s shoulders slumped. “No,” he said quietly.

“It will only go harder for you if you resist.”