Andrews Brothers 01 - The Ruse by Felicia Rogers Read Free Book Online

the top of the stairs. Heated gazes graced her body
even as whispers floated from below.
    Mentally she chanted, I will not
look. I will not look. I will not speak. I will not speak.
    On the landing between the two
sets of stairs, she halted and faced the crowd. Happiness filled her and she
lifted her lip in a half smile in hope of pleasing the baron.
    Several tourists pointed and a
stir arose. The people whispered, “It’s the baron!”
    “This is such a treat. Until
recently few have come this close to him.”
    An elderly man with a lopsided
wig said, “Just look at his regal bearing. One would never know that he and his
brother were sickly as young children. This kept them from attending Oxford or
Cambridge.”
    His female companion replied, “How
dreadful. I dare say this is why people come to visit now, not only for the
entertainment but to gawk at the baron, as well.”
    “Do you know he never leaves the
estate?”
    “I heard it was because he fears
death.”
    “I would fear it, as well, if my
mother died in such a violent manner.”
    “I heard she fell from the tower
window.”
    “I heard it happened in the west
wing.”
    “The wing they have closed off?”
    “Exactly. I also heard tell the
lady didn’t fall but rather was pushed.”
    “Pshaw. She fell, all right. The
west wing is rickety and should have been repaired or torn down ages ago.”
    “Hush, he is too near.”
    Brigitta’s façade wavered. If she
were braver, she would chastise the lesser peers in attendance for their words.
But although she was quick to temper with her husband, her boldness ended
there.
    Her pulse raced as the baron
approached. He eyed her suspiciously and tapped his finger to his chin. Her
hope soared. Perhaps she had achieved perfection and she would be rewarded for
her compliance.
    “Baroness Stockport, I am
speechless,” said Chadwick.
    The grin that before only lifted
one corner of her mouth now arced across her face with pleasure.
    “However…”
    With that one word, Brigitta’s
hope plummeted. Instead of waiting for the ensuing chastisement, she turned and
ascended. Never had she felt so lost.

Chapter Seven
    Luke ignored the previous
speculation that had swirled around him and watched with the hushed crowd as
Brigitta spun on her heel and headed upstairs without utterance. There was no
slamming door, no wails of sorrow, no indication at all that the baroness was
once again ensconced in her room.
    Chadwick drew his brows together
and the crowd exploded.
    “I paid money to see that!”
    “I heard the couple put on a real
show. The quarreling was supposed to be first class.”
    “So did I. I wouldn’t have come
if I’d known it was this unsatisfying.”
    Chadwick’s frown deepened and he
attempted to regain control, but the crowd failed to cooperate. Frustration
mounting, Chadwick summoned Roland and the servants. Livered footmen surrounded
the crowd and ushered them through the front door amidst vehement protests.
    Outside the estate walls, the
footmen returned coins. They offered no excuses for the unusual show but
promptly returned inside and shut the gates. The crowd grumbled as it departed.
Some took off on foot and headed across the bridge toward the cobbled streets
and the village. Others crossed the bridge and procured their waiting
carriages.
    Luke hung back. Once everyone was
out of sight, he removed his hat and knocked on the wooden door to the left of
the metal gates.
    “Open the door.”
    An unknown footman poked his head
over the battlements and yelled to him, “Get ye away from here! We’ve given ye
your money.”
    “I do not want money! I’m the
baron and I demand you open the door.”
    The footman squinted and laughed
uproariously, sending a wad of spittle raining down. He yelled, “The baron, are
you? If you’re the baron, then I’m the queen!”
    More newly employed footmen
joined in hurling insults. Luke calmed his rising temper. He had only himself
to blame. If he hadn’t been dumb