It occurred to Bryght that another source of protection for Portia was the Trelyns. It was not one Bryght favored. He’d introduced Portia to Nerissa in an attempt to get her out of his life. Now he was committed to her, he had no desire for his beloved to be entangled with people who wished him ill.
“Behold, thou art fair my beloved, yea pleasant. As the lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters…”
With a laugh, Bryght sank his head in his hands. He was a wretched case indeed when he was driven to quoting the Bible.
Chapter 12
Portia awoke in her bed, fully dressed and with no clear notion of how she arrived there. She struggled from under the covers feeling rumpled and poorly rested, aware of strange dreams flickering at the edge of her mind.
After such an experience she would have expected nightmares. All she could remember, however, were dreams of heated passion, and a strange one of a man carrying her gently and pressing a kiss to her brow.
She rather thought she had dreamed of Fort. She smiled. It was a sweet dream, but no more than a dream. She was no wife for the Earl of Walgrave especially after her adventure in the brothel. Damn Bryght Malloren for telling Fort who she was. Why would he do such a thing?
With a sigh, Portia went out in search of Oliver, hoping he had good news. There was no sign of him, but then she noticed a letter propped on the table.
Dearest Portia,
You are deep asleep so I will not wake you.
Things are well on the way to being solved. Fort ripped me apart as I deserved, but he has agreed to the mortgage. He has insisted, however, that I take a commission in the army.
Portia stared at the letter in disbelief. After all the work she and her mother had done to dissuade…! How could Fort do such a thing?
And that is not entirely true,Oliver continued.Fort has long known I want the life, and now says it would be best. That boredom would lead me back into trouble. I think he may be right. I’m not needed at Overstead, for you take care of the place better than I. Perhaps I’ll make my fortune through war and return home covered in loot and glory.
Anyway, I’m off to Overstead to reassure Mama and Pru and talk to the colonel of the 5th. By the time I’m back, Fort says the mortgage will be arranged. He seemed to want you to stay here to discuss this business with him. I didn’t argue since I want to make speed and you know more of the estate’s affairs than I. He’s promised to keep an eye on your welfare.
Your loving, contrite brother, Oliver.
Stay here? Portia stared at the scribbled letter in disbelief. How on earth could Oliver think she could stay here?
Then she realized she had said little about the events at Mirabelle’s. Certainly she had given her brother no inkling of the effect Bryght Malloren had on her, or of a dangerous wager. Oliver thought Bryght had merely bought her out of there and sent her home, and clearly Fort had not enlightened him.
In fact, Portia recognized Fort’s hand in this. Fort could persuade Oliver of almost anything, and knowing Portia would not approve of Oliver buying a commission, he’d neatly made sure she couldn’t interfere.
Devil take the wretch. She paced the room angrily. He had no right to send Oliver into such danger.
She halted, recalling all the recent disasters and dangers. What other solution was there? Oliverwasbored, and showed little interest in the land. He’d been mad to join the army since boyhood.
She sighed. Perhaps it was for the best, though it would cast their mother into the vapors.
Then it dawned on her at last that Overstead was safe.
Overstead was safe!
A smile broke on her face, and tears escaped. Tears of joy. Thank God, thank God, the worst was over and Overstead was safe. A few more days and she could return home. She would continue her improvements and pay off the debt. Oliver would love the army and cover himself with glory.
The battle was won.
It was as if a leaden, clinging blanket slid from her and she could stand straight and breathe freely for the first time in weeks.
Still smiling, she became aware of discomfort from her tightly dressed hair and began to remove the pins. It was a relief to let it down and work her fingers through it. She rubbed at her tender scalp, and finger-combed the hair loose around her shoulders.
Then she realized she was still in yesterday’s crumpled clothes and began to change. As she unlaced her stays, however, she saw she wore no shift and began to remember.
She pushed the memories away. That was over. She didn’t need to think of Mirabelle’s. She didn’t need to think of Bryght. She would stay quietly in her rooms until Oliver returned, and need never see Bryght Malloren again.
As she took off her creased petticoat, however, she wished she could remember going to bed last night. It was strange that she would go to bed in her clothes, no matter how tired.
