Page 42 of The Baron's Reluctant Bride
It was odd for a newly wed to return so soon to visit her family, yet here she was. And it was all because of an unexpected message that had been delivered earlier that day by a breathless street urchin rather than a proper footman. The messenger had arrived at Brokeshire House shortly after luncheon. The hasty scrawl requesting her immediate presence had sent a chill of foreboding through her, disrupting her plans to explore the conservatory with Belinda.
Dearest sister, I must speak with you most urgently on a matter of grave importance. Come at once, I beg you. Your devoted brother, W.
The melodramatic phrasing was not unusual for William, whose flair for the theatrical had been evident since childhood. It was the trembling quality of the handwriting that had truly alarmed Gemma, suggesting a state of agitation beyond his usual dramatics.
The drawing room door burst open without ceremony, causing Gemma to start in her seat. William strode in, his cravat askew and his usually immaculate hair disheveled, as though he had been repeatedly running his fingers through it.
"Gemma!" he exclaimed, relief washing over his handsome features. "Thank God you've come. I wasn't certain you would be permitted to leave your new residence."
Gemma frowned, rising to greet her brother with a kiss on the cheek. "What nonsense is this? I am hardly a prisoner, William."
Though the butler did look rather startled when I requested a carriage without Lord Brokeshire's knowledge or escort, she admitted silently.Perhaps I should have left word, but William's note suggested such urgency...
"Of course not," William agreed hastily, pacing the length of the room with frenetic energy. "It's only... well, one hears stories about controlling husbands, and given the hasty nature of your marriage—"
"Lord Brokeshire has been nothing but courteous," Gemma interrupted firmly. "Now, pray tell me what emergency has prompted this summons? Your note was most alarming."
William halted his pacing, his youthful face suddenly haggard in the afternoon light. "I hardly know where to begin," he admitted, his voice cracking slightly. "It's all gone terribly wrong, Gemma. Everything."
A cold knot of dread formed in Gemma's stomach. "Perhaps you might start by sitting down," she suggested, gesturing to the chair opposite her own. "And taking some tea."
"Tea?" William laughed, the sound brittle and jarring. "I rather think this situation calls for something stronger."
He strode to the sideboard, pouring himself a generous measure of brandy with trembling hands. Gemma watched with growing concern as he downed half the glass in a single swallow, wincing at the burn.
"William," she said quietly, "you're frightening me. Please, sit and tell me what has happened."
Her brother collapsed into the chair as though his legs could no longer support him, the brandy sloshing dangerously in his glass. "I've been such a fool, Gem," he whispered, using the childhood nickname that never failed to tug at her heart. "Such an unmitigated, catastrophic fool."
"I'm sure whatever it is can be resolved," she soothed, though the conviction in her voice rang hollow even to her own ears.
William's laugh held an edge of hysteria. "Resolved? Oh, how I wish that were true." He took another fortifying sip of brandy before meeting her gaze directly. "I'm in debt, Gemma. Ruinous, devastating debt."
Though the words sent a jolt of dismay through her, Gemma maintained her composure. This was hardly the first time William had overextended himself at the gaming tables. "I already know that. Has it increased? And by how much?" she asked calmly.
William named a sum that made the blood drain from her face.
"Sweet heavens," she whispered, her mind reeling as she calculated the figure against what remained of her modest dowry. "William, how could you possibly—"
William had the grace to look ashamed. "I thought my luck must change. It always had before."
"Clearly not this time," Gemma observed, struggling to keep the exasperation from her voice. This was far from the first time she had been called upon to extricate her brother from financial difficulties, though the scale of his current predicament dwarfed all previous incidents. "I assume you've come to me for reassurance?"
"Not... not exactly," William replied, draining the last of his brandy before setting the glass aside with exaggerated care. "That is to say, not merely for that. I require funds."
Something in his tone sent a fresh wave of unease washing over Gemma. "Explain yourself, William. Plainly, if you please."
Her brother rose once more, his restlessness preventing him from remaining seated. “The obligations extend beyondmy acquaintances at the club. You may recall that Thorne has acquired the majority of my outstanding notes.”
“Oh, William! I cautioned you against this. Your aim was to extricate yourself from his manipulation, not to furnish him with further leverage! This is far graver than I initially apprehended. Is Mr. Thorne demanding immediate recompense?” she inquired, a knot of worry tightening in her chest.
"If only the matter were so simple." William replied despondently. “He claims a willingness to absolve the debt entirely, in return for yet more… information.”
Gemma’s brow furrowed in bewilderment. “More information? Then simply provide it and free yourself from this entanglement.”
William's pacing grew more erratic, his hands gesturing wildly as he spoke. "That's just it, Gemma. I don't possess it, not yet. Shipping routes, investment plans, contract negotiations... matters over that nature discussed over brandy and cigars in club rooms across London."
"He's using you as a spy, we know that, is there no way to disentangle you from this situation? Perhaps we can call the legal authorities?”
