“Then there must be a good reason why the estate was purchased.” Bridget hung up another garment. “After all, it is a fine piece of land, and the manor is quite impressive.”
“And if good fortune is on our side,” Prissy said in a hurry, “you’ll be the mistress of Hanover Hall.”
Bridget created a make-believe wedding in her mind, with her wearing a lovely gown and flowers decorating the church. Her father would officiate the ceremony, and all of her sisters would wear pretty gowns and stand close by, giving her support. The chapel would be full of people who were happy for her union with a titled man.
And the man who she’d take as her husband… wasn’t Collin. In fact, the man in her dream had darker hair.
Recognizing the face of the man, Bridget belted out a laugh. What was she thinking? Adrian Worthington shouldnotbe in her dreams, or her thoughts.
“Mistress of Hanover Hall?” Bridget shook her head. “That will never happen, Prissy.”
“You never know.”
Priscilla smiled, but it wasn’t full. She picked up another shirt and pinned it to the clothesline. A few minutes of silence passed. A small breeze wafted through the trees, making the leaves rustle, but that was the only noise. Bridget realized how much she hated the stillness, because it gave her mind access to dreams of things that would never come to pass, and things that shouldneverhave happened in the first place.
“Bridget? Didn’t the earl tell Father that his brother was away on business?”
Bridget sighed, welcoming a different topic of conversation. “Yes, why do you ask?”
“Last night, I talked to friends who overheard the earl’s aunt calling for Lord William. If the brother was gone, why would his aunt think he was in attendance?”
Bridget picked up another wet garment from the basket. “That’s a very good question. When I stepped outside briefly during the evening, I also heard the old woman calling for Lord William. It was very strange, indeed.”
“I thought you would know, since you spoke with her last night.”
Bridget shrugged. “The woman didn’t mention Lord William to me at all. She was more focused on telling me about wonderful Lord Hanover was and what a fine husband he would make.”
Prissy giggled behind her hand. “Another rumor I heard was that his aunt mentioned seeing Lord William sneaking out of the ball with a woman on his arm.”
Bridget sucked in a breath as her chest tightened. She opened her mind again, recalling when Adrian had taken her by the hand and pulled her into the kitchen, and then into the pantry. Later, Aunt Beatrice had entered the kitchen, calling for Lord William.
Adrian’s voice entered her head.She is slowly losing her mind. I don’t believe she was really searching for Lord William, because she knows the man is away on business.
Confusion filled Bridget as she scrambled to make sense of everything. Was it a coincidence that the aunt had supposedly seen Lord William leaving, yet Adrian had been the one leaving the party—with a woman?
Bridget chuckled lightly and shook her head. What was she thinking? Adrian definitely wasnotLord William. He didn’t even act like a titled man. He was certainly a scoundrel of the worst kind, one she should have never tangled with.
She breathed easier. It was difficult not to listen to gossip. “The poor woman must be delusional.”
“Yes, that’s what I thought, as well.”
As Bridget proceeded to hang the rest of the garments, her thoughts wouldn’t leave Adrian and everything that happened last night. He’d tried his hardest to make her aware that he wouldn’t allow fortune-hunting women to catch his cousin. And then he whisked her off to the kitchen to kiss her passionately. Now she wondered if that was Adrian’s way of keeping her from the earl.
Her heart sank. Adrian Worthington was such a scoundrel. He had kissed her because that was what men like him did when they found themselves alone with a woman. And he did it so that his cousin would never court her.
Suddenly, the happy feeling that had consumed her all morning disappeared, and emptiness filled her, along with a stronger burst of guilt. How could she have enjoyed being in his arms and kissing him as if they were the only two people at the party? He’d been very tender and sweet, but full of passion. Now she knew it was all an act.
The conversation about Lord William kept creeping into her thoughts. Adrian had tried to make her think that Aunt Beatrice had lost her mind, yet after meeting and visiting with the old woman, not once did Bridget think the woman wasn’t in full control of her thoughts. Aunt Beatrice was quite intelligent, in fact.
Another thing that bothered Bridget was that not once did Collin go out of his way to introduce his cousin, Adrian Worthington, to any of the guests at the party. Aunt Beatrice didn’t mention Adrian being in attendance, either. If he were a close relative, why hadn’t his family acknowledged him?
The rumors had circulated about Lord William being at the ball, but nobody had met him. There was certainly a secret going on in the Worthington family, at least between the earl and Adrian… who, although they had different hair coloring, looked remarkably alike. Bridget had cousins, but she and her sisters didn’t resemble them at all.
Could the secret the so-called cousins were keeping be that Adrian was the earl’s brother?
A sharp pain gripped her heart as though a knife had been plunged into her chest, which made it difficult to breathe. How had she been so gullible? Why hadn’t she seen through Adrian’s deceit? Then again, he had left enough hints. He had told her that his main purpose at the ball was to keep farthing-filching women away from the earl.
Would a cousin really do something so personal, or would a brother?
