Free Beguiled by Catherine Lloyd Page A

lost everything for your sake.” She
bit back tears of frustration and heartache. Clara knew she was being
unreasonable but could not stop herself from trying to hurt him. “If you have
nothing more to say to me then leave me here. I shall manage to get along
without you.”
    “As you were at Gateshead, yes, you were
managing beautifully,” he said bitterly. “I warned you not to leave my
protection. Your father was the danger to you all along. Not me.”
    Clara broke free of his hold. “Is it my
gratitude you want? You have it. I am grateful.”
    “It is not your thanks I seek.”
    “What then?”
she demanded, sitting up and looking at him. “Why did you rescue me?”
    “Your brother
asked for my help. I’ve told you.”
    “No, I don’t believe that is the reason.
Seeing me incarcerated in an insane asylum is the revenge you desired from the
beginning. It would have thrilled you to hear of my disgrace. I don’t
understand you, Branson. You had every reason to tell my brother to go to
hell.”
    He shrugged and closed his eyes. “What your
father did was not fair and I am a fair man. There is no glory in besting a mad
woman. If you really were mad, I would have left you there. You are as sane as
I am.”
    “That remains to be seen. Much depends on
what happens now. You and Edgar did not think this rescue through. I can’t go
home to my father.”
    Branson opened his eyes and fixed them on
her face. “You cannot return to Windemere Hall. It is
not safe.”
    Clara seized on this. “In what way is it not
safe? Come now, no more secrets! There is nothing left to destroy between us.
When I was with Grace in the chapel, she said something that puzzled me. She told
me she hurts you. What did she mean by that?”
    “I will not discuss my wife with you,” he
said coldly.
    “If you are hoping to put me off with your
usual incivility, Branson, it won’t work. I am too familiar your bad nature.”
Clara wrapped herself in his frock coat as she had done the first night they spent
together and crouched beside him. “To protect your secret you allowed me to
believe I was going mad. It was Grace in the chapel choking the life out of
me—not an apparition—not a hallucination. Your wife was alive yet you allowed
me to believe I was going insane.”
    “You asked for the truth,” he said tightly.
“This is the man I am. It is too late for me to change, Clara. I’m not a man
given to forgiveness or trust.”
    “You have no idea how you are hurting me,”
she said. Her voice carried on the still autumn air. “How it wounds me to be in
your company. I am not a strong woman. At times I wish I was more like Trudy
Delisle, able to ignore feelings for practicality. But I see you and I must
love you, and this love is tearing me apart. You may not be given to
forgiveness, but I am cannot live my life in resentment and bitterness. I
forgive you, Branson. I forgive you everything.”
    Branson’s blue eyes darkened. He did not speak
for several seconds. “Do not despise me for doing what I must. I live with a
madwoman. There is no escape for me but I will not lure you into the same trap.”
    “I do not care to be free without you!”
    “You are talking like a child! Grace was in
the bedchamber the night we made love. She was watching us.” Branson reached
for his breeches and yanked them on, dressing as he talked. “I instructed Piers
to lock her in her apartment after your arrival, but she wheedled and begged
and he gave in to her that night. Piers Leeds is her brother,” he said tersely.
    “Oh dear God,” she moaned. “Piers is Grace’s brother—why did you not tell me? You took another
woman to bed right under your wife’s nose! You are without pity.
Cold—heartless—I cannot endure!” Clara turned away, horrified. “Oh God, what
have I done? I didn’t know. I thought it was only me you sought to destroy with
a false betrothal. You were trying to destroy your wife as well. You beguiled
us both.”
    “I