Page 76 of His Secret Mistress


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“Then we won’t see each other often.”

“I don’t wish that.”

“Don’t think too far ahead,” he advised. “I will go to Winderton after he has had a chance to sober up and try to make him see the bright side of all this.”

“I pray you do.” She walked out the door like an aristocrat facing the guillotine—resolute, tragic, forlorn.

Bran walked to the door and watched the footmen help his sister into the vehicle. He waved as they drove away before closing the door.

His first impulse was to go to Kate, to tell her he wanted to marry her. He decided against it. The hour was too early and his love was probably trying to catch some sleep, something he needed as well.

Lucy bouncing on the bed woke Bran.

At first, he thought he was dreaming. He felt like he’d just closed his eyes.

She proved she wasn’t a dream by shaking his shoulder. “Brandon,wake up. Wake up!”

“What?” He was never good first thing after sleep. “Lucy, what are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to say that you are wrong. You said that all would be well.It isn’t.”

“And why is it not?”

His sister held out a letter. “This is from Winderton. I found it on the desk in his room. If I hadn’t just happened to go in there, I would never have seen it.”

“Lucy, you go into his room several times a day.”

“No matter. He writes to inform me he has eloped with his actress.” She dropped the letter on his chest. “Do you wish to tell me now how everything will be fine?”

Chapter Sixteen

“What?” Bran picked up the letter. It was Winderton’s hand. He was very direct:

My life has been a lie—

“That is dramatic of him,” Bran muttered. “I wonder whom he takes after.”

Lucy snorted her opinion.

—I seek my own purpose in life—

“Another piece of nonsense,” Bran observed.

—I am eloping with the woman I love. I’ll repay you for the horses once I’m established.

There was no signature.

Bran stared at the words. “Kate wouldn’t have said yes.”

“Apparently she has.”

“She wouldn’t.”

“She did.”

Bran crushed the letter in his hand. “She couldn’t.”

But she could. She had done it before. With Hemling. Only he had forced her.