Brandywine: Regency historical romance (The Brocade Series, Book 1) Read Online Free

showing she listened.
    “However, I will force you to bathe the fleas, lice, and assorted vermin from yourself before we spend another moment together. You may appreciate the company, but I won’t have my home overrun by such. And if you think I’m an ogre, wait until I introduce you to Mrs. Wright.”
    She choked on her reply, and even that hurt.
    “No crass words of reply? No acting? No mimicking? Thank the fates. I wouldn’t have hesitated turning you over to the Bingham Manor and the lap of your loving family if that were the case.”
    She tried to gather breath for her banshee wail, but her shoulder, neck, and damn it, even her face hurt too much for the effort. It was just as well. He had the upper hand. And she’d given it to him. She’d been stupid, naive, and foolish to reveal her fear of Gerard, but she couldn’t fault him for using it. She would have, too.
    “No fight? This is much easier than I expected, but you don’t fight fair, do you, Brandy, love?”
    Tears filled her eyes again, brought on by the pain. They certainly didn’t come from the way he leaned toward her, then pulled away as if repelled. She was grateful for his reaction. She wanted it that way. She calmly watched the wall and silently counted, as her tears dried again. She’d learned how to do it so long in the past, it was reflex. No tears. Ever.
    “Mrs. Wright will help you with your bath.”
    “No help,” she croaked, wheezing with stifling the moan.
    “If our wedding is legal, you’re the lady of the manor now, Brandy. As such, Mrs. Wright’s place is to serve. Besides, you couldn’t possibly get that dress off by yourself, anyway, now could you?”
    “No...help!”
    She whistled the words through the working side of her jaw, but knew she was losing. She didn’t have the strength to fight off Mrs. Wright or any other henchmen Gil might use.
    “I look forward to your company, my dear. That is, when my eyes don’t water by being in it.”
    He chuckled at his joke. Brandy didn’t bother to bristle. She wanted it that way, because it kept her safe, alone, and unmolested. Now, he intended to change it?
    She was going to have to pay him back for that, too.
    “See here, Madame, well have you up and about in—”  A new female voice broke off suddenly. “Good Lord! What’s that stench?*
    Mrs. Wright had a goodly face, probably the kindest one Brandy had seen in years. It made her eye sting with unshed tears again as the woman held her nose and leaned over her.
    “Just...get the damned dress undone...and get out!”
    Brandy put every ounce of anger she had in her command. She still sounded like an alley kitten. The effort of talking caused sweat droplets at her hairline. She had to let the emotion go. She was going to have to conserve what little strength she had. She wasn’t up to fighting Gil or Mrs. Wright. She’d just have to admit it, live through it, and survive.
    “If you’ll roll over, Madame, I’ll see what I can do,” Mrs. Wright replied. “Will that suit you well enough?”
    Brandy nodded and then did it. God alone knew what that cost her. The bedstead was rattling beneath her when she finished. She felt the woman’s fingers deftly undoing the hooks Helen’s maidservant had fastened, while Brandy wondered how she’d get it all off.
    “You’ve...you’ve got on a mountain of gowns. It’s going to take me a spell, Madame,” Mrs. Wright said. “Forgive me. I’m afraid I’ll have to go get the salts, after all .”
    Brandy listened to the woman’s retching through her words and tried to find her ready, banshee smile as Mrs. Wright stumbled away, probably looking for the nearest chamber pot. Brandy told herself she didn’t care. She had the privacy she craved and a hot bath waiting. God help her, but she knew it would feel wonderful, too.
    ***
    “My Lord? A word?”
    Gil looked up from the fire. “Witherspoon, isn’t it? Give me your word and go, Man.”
    “It’s not mine, actually, My Lord, and