“Parker’s plantation? But I thought—”
Brandon removed his hand and leaned back on the desk a little. He shifted his legs just enough so that Shannon was trapped lightly between them. He gave her a considering look. “You’ve heard just enough about Parker to reach the conclusion that he was my poor bastard brother, no prospects, no name, and that Aurora’s leaving was a desperate romantic gesture. Is that something close to what you thought?”
Shannon nodded, nonplussed. She was even more bewildered when he laughed a moment later with every indication that he was genuinely amused.
“I shall tell you everything you want to know about Parker Grant, though I assure you, it’s a tedious story. But not now.” With a quicksilver mood change he was serious again. “Now I would like an answer to my question. Will you take Aurora’s place for the duration of her parents’ visit?”
“Yes.”
“Even though it will mean returning to her room?” he pointed out gently. “The room that adjoins mine?” That shook her, and Brandon was immediately sorry for mentioning it. He was trying to plead his case, not damn himself. “I’m sorry, Shannon. Aurora and I have had no real marriage for years. The lock and key were originally her idea. You, of course, will use them. Indeed, if your impersonation of Aurora is as good as it must be, you won’t have to worry that I’ll ever test that barrier.” That apparently set her mind at ease because she was smiling, albeit a trifle uncertainly, at him.
“Are you sure this is what you want to do?” she asked.
“I’m sure.”
“Have you thought of Clara?”
“I wouldn’t be asking this of you if I hadn’t.”
“No, I mean have you considered what her reaction will be to this piece of pretense? She has a very important part in this.“’
“I think Clara will see it as a game.”
“I wouldn’t want her hurt.”
“Neither would I. It is precisely what I am trying to prevent.”
“And you believe this is necessary?”
“Would you ask me to take the chance that it isn’t?”
“No.”
“Shannon, I have no clear idea what the Marchands would do if they came and found Aurora gone. I don’t believe they would condone her leaving me, but they may think I gave her ample reason to go. And what of Clara? Do I allow them to think I kept her from her mother, or give them the truth that Aurora wanted nothing to do with her? Will they even believe me? Then there is the matter of Clara’s appearance.” He spread his hand expansively, pointing to the portraits hanging on two walls of the library. “You must have noticed these. Generations of ancestors. Does Clara bear the faintest resemblance to any of them?”
Shannon had noticed them, and she had to agree. There was nothing to indicate Clara came from the Fleming line. She would have liked to show him her locket, but without it she realized how stupid it would sound to say that Clara looked like her own mother. And inconsequential. It would hardly put Brandon’s fears to rest. “Many children do not take after their fathers.”
“But neither does Clara resemble her mother or any of her mother’s family.” He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. “It is neither here nor there. I just sometimes wonder…I would not like it if the Marchands began to have similar thoughts.”
“Surely if they think so highly of Aurora, they would have no reason to suspect she had an…an affair.”
“That’s true enough.” He lifted Shannon’s hand, turning it over in his. “Do you think I am making too much of nothing? Perhaps you think it would be better if I told them the truth and hoped for the best?”
“I don’t know.” She carefully withdrew her hand and stepped past the circle of Brandon’s legs. “It hasn’t been long since you discovered they were coming. If you still feel the same way on the morrow, then I’ll help you.” She excused herself as quietly as she had entered.
Shannon’s sleepthat night was marked by bouts of restlessness. Would he change his mind? And if he did not, had she truly committed herself to being part of his plan? God forgive her, she thought helplessly, she did not want him to think better of his proposal. She did not want to be given a way out. Even though it meant playing the role of a woman he professed to dislike, it also meant being his wife. For the duration of the Marchands’ visit she would at least have that.
Brandon’s sleep was no more peaceful. He wondered if he had been seized by a touch of brain fever, proposing such a plan to Shannon. Would he have ever voiced the idea if he thought she would actually accept him? God help him, he thought uneasily, he wanted her to honor her promise. He did not want to give her a way out. Even though she would be playing the role of Aurora, he could pretend it was Shannon who was his wife. For the duration of the Marchands’ visit he would at least have that.
In the morning Brandon stopped Shannon in the foyer as she and Clara were making ready to leave the house. “I have not changed my mind,” he said neutrally, his face expressionless.
Shannon nodded. To avoid meeting his eyes she stooped to assist Clara with the ribbons of her bonnet. “I’ll help you,” she said. She glanced upward to make certain he understood her words were for him as well as for his daughter.
“Thank you,” he said stiffly. “When you and Clara return, please send her to me. I would speak to her of this matter.”
“Of course.” She opened the door and escorted Clara into the bright sunshine.
Brandon later discovered that explaining the matter to Clara was the least of his problems. His daughter accepted the pretending easily enough, so easily, in fact, that Brandon had cause to wonder anew at the wisdom of this game. Cody required no explanations. He merely looked inquiringly at his brother and accepted Brandon’s short nod as a sign that he acted on Cody’s suggestion. It was from the remainder of the household that Brandon received the most resistance. Not that anyone was openly defiant of his wishes. Their disapproval was subtler, a quietness settling over the staff he had assembled, a failure to look him in the eye. When he dismissed them after a brief explanation, only Martha paused in the doorway and asked if he knew what he was doing. Her frown deepened when he was unable to answer. If only their assistance were not imperative, he thought when he was alone, he would never have asked his servants to become part of the deception. For the first time since taking over the running of the folly, he had given them just cause to question his sanity. He smiled wryly. No, not the first time, he amended. The first time was shortly after he had brought home his bride. No doubt they could not understand why he was going to recreate that pain.
