He ground his teeth together in a manner I knew only too well. “On that point, I must request your discretion.”
“Why, Brisbane, are you suggesting that your fiancée does not know what you are? I am astonished. A gentleman should be more forthcoming with his intended. How is she to know if you can support her adequately if you do not share these things?”
He took a step closer, using his height to great advantage. The breeze had risen, whipping his greatcoat about him like great black wings, and he loomed over me like some sort of fallen angel. “Are you enjoying yourself?” he demanded.
I nodded. “Oh, immensely! And you must promise to invite me to the wedding. I shall be bereft if I cannot wish you well on your nuptial day. I think I shall wear green. Not fashionable for weddings anymore, but during Tudor times it was just the thing. I believe it has some connotations of pagan fertility, but we shall draw a veil over that.”
His jaw tightened a bit more. “I will not discuss this with you. Not Charlotte, not my profession, and not my presence here at Bellmont,” he repeated.
I fluffed the velvet trim on my cuffs and adopted a tone of supreme indifference. “So you have said, and I agreed with you. Really, Brisbane, you do not listen at all. You shall want to remedy that before you take a wife. A lady likes to be listened to. Tell me, as we are friends, what became of Mr. King? She did not murder him, did she? I shall feel quite nervous for you if you marry a murderess.”
His hand twitched, and though he did not reach for me, I knew I had prodded him too far. Teasing Brisbane was not a sport for the faint of heart. It was only slightly safer than baiting bulls. I could not help myself. Perhaps I wished to punish him for the long, lonely months without word. Perhaps I wished to punish him for forcing Charlotte upon us. I only knew I wanted to hurt him, not deeply, but the temptation to twist the knife was irresistible.
“Honestly, Brisbane. You cannot seriously expect me to believe you intend to marry her. She is ridiculous. She would bore you to sobs in a fortnight.”
He opened his mouth, to say something vicious I have no doubt, but I held up a hand. “No, you mustn’t tell me. I would rather not know.” I tapped the black sling firmly.
To his credit he did not flinch. “I do hope you are convalescing well. The air here is quite restorative.”
“I am fine, thank you for your concern,” he ground out, his lips stiff with anger.
“Excellent. And how is Monk? Keeping well, I trust?” Monk was his majordomo, as well as a sometime operative in his investigations. I had only the vaguest theories as to Brisbane’s activities whilst I had been away, but I knew whatever they had been, Monk would have been at the thick of them.
“Monk is in London. And since you will learn of it as soon as you speak with Valerius, I will tell you he is looking after Monk while he recovers from a broken leg.”
I gaped at him. This was most unexpected. “Valerius is treating him? But he is a student. He is not qualified—”
“Under Mordecai’s direction,” he amended. That eased my mind a little. Mordecai was Brisbane’s oldest friend. An excellent physician, he had taken my wayward younger brother under his tutelage. Father would never consent to let Valerius establish his own consulting rooms, but with Mordecai’s help, he could do some real good in the slums that festered behind the elegant quarters of London.
“When did he break his leg?” I asked suddenly. The speed of the attack caught him off his guard.
“A fortnight ago,” he replied, and I had little doubt if he had thought on it, he would have given me a lie.
“A fortnight ago,” I repeated innocently. “The same time you fell from your horse. How very unlucky. And how very fortunate that neither of you were near Trafalgar Square. I understand there was a terrible riot there, just about a fortnight past. Why, either one of you might have been injured much worse.”
“I read of it in the papers,” he said smoothly, refusing to rise to the bait.
“As did I. Just this morning. The stories were utterly appalling. Ten thousand people marching to register their protest at the treatment of the Irish, and two thousand soldiers beating them back. I understand some poor souls were left with broken bones, and shots were even fired. So barbaric.”
I paused, holding the eyes that never left mine. “Well, I must be getting back to the others. You should come along and watch them conclude the deal for the horse. It should be most entertaining. Oh, I am sorry, I forgot,” I said, with a meaningful look at his sling, “you do not ride.” I spun smartly on my heel and started down the path.
“Julia—”
I turned back in surprise. He had never once called me by my Christian name. Emotions warred on his face, feelings I could not identify as I waited, only an arm’s length from him, expectant, hoping for some word, some declaration.
But he simply stood staring at me, locked in a silence he would not, or could not, break, and after an endless moment I let out a ragged little breath that sounded almost like a sob.
“You know, Brisbane, if you thought to rouse my jealousy by bringing her here, you have failed. Abjectly. She is welcome to you, with my blessing.”
He spoke then, something profane, but he did not follow me as I walked away.
After my tête-à-tête with Brisbane, I felt thoroughly exhausted, drained of all feeling and numb with cold and a bit of misery as well as I retraced my steps to the Gypsy camp. I had not been gone a very long time, but it was sufficient for the ladies to have finished their fortunes. Emma and Portia had joined Lucy on her bit of carpet by the cooking fire, and were sipping at chipped mugs. More of Magda’s dreadful tea, no doubt, but at least it would keep the rising chill from one’s bones.
The gentlemen were still haggling, though they had been joined by Plum and Mr. Ludlow. Mrs. King was some little distance apart, attempting to converse with a charming little girl whose glossy black plaits swung to her waist. Next to the child’s exotic charms, Mrs. King looked like a fragile Dresden shepherdess. I thought of warning Mrs. King it would be prudent to keep an eagle eye upon her valuables, and to count the coins in her reticule when the child left, for there was no knowing if the girl was old enough to realise we were friends and not to be stolen from. But just then she looked up and waved at me, her betrothal ring from Brisbane sparkling on her finger, and I held my tongue.
I made for the knot of gentlemen instead, meaning to join them when a figure swayed out from behind the nearest tent. “You do not wish me to tell your fortune? I am never wrong, lady, as you well know.”
I sighed. “No, Magda. Thank you. I trust the ladies paid you sufficiently for your services?”