Page 96 of My Rogue, My Ruin
Her veiled sarcasm was entirely lost on the countess, however. Lady Dinsmoretut-tutted. “No, no, there’s a distinct quiver in your voice. You need to get some rest.” She signaled to one of the hovering footmen. “Summon her maid at once. Lady Briannon wishes to retire.”
She felt her face grow hot, and an irrepressible need to be taken for her word, to be trusted and undisputed, drove her to her feet.
“I do not,” Brynn snapped. “Enough, Mama. Please.” She gentled her voice, seeing her mother’s displeasure and forestalling the forthcoming explosion. “I love you, but I am not a child who needs to be put to bed. I am a grown woman, and I need a reprieve from this constant mothering. I am going out.”
“The hour is late, Briannon!” Lady Dinsmore gasped and turned to her husband. “Herbert, do something! She’ll catch her death.”
As her father grappled for a reply, dabbing a napkin at the corners of his mouth in order to stall for time, Brynn walked around the table and leaned down to press a kiss to her mother’s furrowed brow. “No, Mama, the fresh evening breeze will do me a world of good, trust me.” She smiled at her father and brother who were both staring at her with identical expressions of astonishment as they, too, stood. “Papa, Gray, please excuse me. I need some air.”
“Bravo,” Gray mouthed to her, his hands mimicking a clap as she swept past him.
Leaning against the paneled wall of the outer room, Brynn closed her eyes and took in a slow breath, pressing her palms to her trembling middle. Inside the dining room, she could hear her father attempting to pacify her aggrieved mother, but Brynn didn’t care to intervene. Or apologize. She’d shot a marauder, endured a kidnapping, and escaped a killer, all without collapsing. If she’d learned anything at all from recent weeks, it was that she—andher lungs—were more than capable of weathering anything. That included the tempest in a teapot that was Lady Dinsmore.
Gray’s soft voice at her ear made her jump. “Well done.”
“Is Mama very upset?”
“She’ll survive,” he responded dryly, taking her arm and escorting her down the carpeted hallway. “I am proud of you, sister.”
“For what?”
“For fighting for yourself.”
Brynn stared up at her brother, her frazzled emotions breaking free of her tenuous hold on them. Her hands shook as she clutched her skirts. Gray was wrong. She hadn’t fought for a damned thing, not even when Archer had cancelled the banns. When he, too, had decided what was best for her.
“No,” she whispered. “I’ve done nothing.”
Gray stopped at the bottom of the staircase and drew around her to face him. “Why would you say that?” He held her stare, seeing past an excuse she was searching for and failing to find. “Is it because of Hawk’s announcement?”
Brynn flushed at the thought of the man who was no longer her betrothed. She had guessed that Archer would make an announcement in theTimes, but she hadn’t expected how much it would hurt. There was nothing between them any longer, nothing left to hold them together now that the imposter had been found.
She hadn’t seen him since Eloise’s funeral, although he had called upon them briefly before the service. His manner had been distant and preoccupied, which was to be expected, and Brynn had given him the space to grieve. Despite his sister’s ultimate treachery, she knew Archer mourned the loss. Now that his name was cleared and the true killer known, Archer was free to live his life. And she hers.
She only wished the idea didn’t make her so miserable.
“You are better off without him,” Gray said, seeing her expression.
“No, I’m not.” Overwhelmed by despair, Brynn’s voice broke. “You don’t know him like I do. No one does. I’m better when I’m with him. I don’t feel weak or useless, and at least he doesn’t treat me like a fragile porcelain doll.”
“You’re not useless,” Gray replied. “It’s normal to come to…care for someone after sharing a traumatic experience.”
“It’s more than that, Gray,” she said quietly.
His grip tightened on her arms and then relaxed. “You’re too—”
“Too what?” she interrupted. “Too young to love? Too sick to live? Too weak to hope for normal things?” Her laugh was empty. “Surely you of all people don’t intend to patronize me as Mama does. I know my own mind and the truth of what I feel.”
His mouth opened and closed and then, to her surprise, he pulled her close. “You’re right. I am sorry for suggesting otherwise. You’ll find love again, Brynn. And if you don’t, well…rest assured that you can always age into spinsterhood with your interminable bachelor of a brother.”
Ignoring the sharp twinge his words elicited, Brynn laughed into his neckcloth. “Not if Mama has her way.” Gray groaned, lashing his arms about her and kissing the crown of her head. Brynn couldn’t help teasing him more. “Soon she will renew all her efforts to find you a suitable wife, which means I will finally be left in peace.”
“Heaven help me.” Gray released her and clasped his hand to his chest with an aghast look. “A hellish torture, but one I will gladly endure if only for you.”
“You truly are the best brother.”
Squeezing Gray’s arm with the first real smile she’d had in days, she climbed the stairs to her room where her lady’s maid, Lana, was waiting.
“I’m going out for a ride,” Brynn announced. It would clear her head. And ease her bruised heart. She hoped.
