Betrayed by Catherine Lloyd Read Free Book Online Page A

were
friends once.”
    “Yes, Mr. Hamilton, we
were.” She lowered her eyes, trying very hard not shed tears. “But that was a
long time ago.”
    “Not so long ago. Not
to me. I shall miss your company, cousin. Is it necessary for you to go so
soon?”
    “I think you’ll find
it is, young man,” Brockville interrupted sternly. “If you will excuse us, we
are in some haste to return to London. It is our hope our new friend, Mrs.
Hamilton, will agree to spend the balance of the season with us at Petherham. You
may see her then I daresay, if you have mended your quarrel.”
    Whether it was Branson
Hamilton’s bearing or something else, she would never know, but Mrs. Brockville
was sensitive to a frisson of strong
sympathy between the young couple. It seemed a great pity to leave it this way
when there was still hope.
    To Strachan’s great
irritation, the lady spoke out impulsively. “Mr. Hamilton, we have been eager
to have you to Petherham for some time. You are our nearest neighbour and it is
a dreadful sin that we are not better acquainted. I would like to remedy that.
We are hosting a shooting party in two weeks time. The colonel and I shall be
delighted to receive you as our guest.”
    Branson’s brow
furrowed and his sapphire eyes narrowed. He flicked a glance at Clara and she
had to look away. “Will you be there, Clara?”
    “If my father
agrees....” Her heart lodged in her throat.
    “Thank you, Mrs.
Brockville, but it is unlikely my cousin will find my company welcome after she
consults with her father.” He drew himself up in the saddle and gazed stonily
at the horizon. “But I do thank you for your kindness.”
    Clara turned her face
away and bit down hard on her inner lip.
    “Good day then, Clara.
And good journey.”
    She sent him a hurried
last glance and saw something in his eyes that knocked her back and wrenched
her heart. The stirring gaze of a blasted soul.
    The carriage pulled
away, but Clara continued to watch him though the small window where he sat on
Gladiator, his cloak lifting with the wind. He did not move but watched the
carriage roll further and further away until the master of Windemere Hall was again
alone.
    It is what he deserves , she thought. It is what he wants .
    He could not expect
her to love him now. She would not shipwreck her hope for a happy marriage to
live a life of secrets, lies and double-dealing.
    Branson Hamilton had
revealed his true feelings for her and she never wanted to see him again. Branson Reilly , she corrected herself. The impostor .

 
    HE FORCED himself to
hold his place until she was well and truly gone—too far distant to turn back.
He returned to the Hall, mechanically going through the motions of grooming and
stabling Gladiator. His mind had ceased ticking over ideas and plans for
revenge; he was drowning in one reality—the reality he had created for himself.
Clara Hamilton was gone and her loss was tearing him up inside.
    This was not what he
anticipated. He knew she would leave one day but he did not plan for this. His
plan to destroy Arthur Hamilton had destroyed him as well.
    Branson watched his
hands move over the horse’s hide with long firm strokes. His chest rose and
fell, breathing in and breathing out, but he felt lifeless all the same.
    Clara. Clara .

 
    §

 
    CLARA SMOOTHED her hair off her face, took a deep breath
and opened the door to her father’s study.
    “Well, this is a
splendid surprise! Clara, my dear, how did you sleep? It is good to have you
home again.”
    Clara winced at the
false jovial edge in her father’s voice. “Good morning, Father. Tilly said it
was all right to come in. I was hoping to have a private word but I didn’t
realize you had a guest. I am sorry if I’m interrupting your business.”
    “Not at all, not at
all, my dear. Come in.” Arthur Hamilton took her arm and led Clara to a chair. “As
it happens, you figure rather prominently in our discussion. Do you recognize
the gentleman