Judith E French by Moonfeather

Author:Moonfeather [Moonfeather]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

April 1721

Charles stood motionless as his valet brushed a piece of lint off Charles’s new riding coat and adjusted the back curls on his wig. The servant scrutinized his master’s attire and nodded, clapping his hands for a maid to carry in a tray with Charles’s morning tea.

“Will that be all, sir?” the valet asked. He motioned the girl to set the tray down and poured tea into his master’s cup. He added three lumps of sugar and stirred, taking care not to spill any of the precious liquid.

“Send word to the stable. I’ll want the roan, and tell John to saddle the gray mare for Lady Brandon.” When the servants were gone, Charles took his cup of tea and went to the window. Below, walking in the garden, he saw his aunt and his cousin Brandon.

“Damn you both to hell,” he muttered. Nothing had gone right for him. The old earl clung to life with the tenacity of a fighting cock, and Brandon seemed to have his own guardian angel watching over him. Charles’s brilliant plan for poisoning Brandon had gone as awry as the fumbling highwaymen’s attempt on his life.

Charles took a long sip of the hot tea. The hatred he felt for Brandon gnawed at his insides and kept him from sleep at night. Idly, he ran a finger inside his lace stock and rubbed the scar on his neck. “I will have satisfaction,” he promised. He reached into an inside pocket of his coat, withdrew a silver locket, and snapped it open. Curled inside was a lock of blond hair. For a moment he fingered the memento and let the memories of a long-past summer fill his mind.

Cecily. He closed his eyes and summoned her laughing blue eyes, her dimpled face, her porcelain complexion and rose-tinted cheeks . . . Cecily, the parson’s daughter. He’d loved her with a passion he’d never felt for another living soul. She’d returned his pure love, love untainted by lust, until Brandon had come between them and murdered her.

Charles slipped the locket back into his pocket and drained the cup. His eyes grew thoughtful as he stared at the trace of tea leaves in the bottom. His cousin Brandon had been the bane of his life. Handsome, charming Brandon! Always surrounded by friends, sought after by women. Brandon could have any woman he wanted, but he had to have the only one Charles had ever cared for.

Scenes flashed behind his eyelids, and Charles gave an involuntary groan. The memory of that day in the barn was one he didn’t want to suffer again. He’d found them together—naked limbs wrapped around each other in grotesque lewdness as Brandon pumped his vile seed into her. He’d watched them, mesmerized by the awful reality of their coupling. Finally, when he could take it no longer, he’d thrown himself at Brandon and had nearly been killed in the ensuing struggle.

Charles sighed. He’d carry the scar from the pitchfork to his grave. Brandon had lied, of course.

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