by Olivia Drake
His groggy eyes blinked up at her. “Mad’lyn?”
“Indeed. You passed out on my bed. Now kindly cease manhandling me.”
His arm fell away. Then he lifted his head slightly to survey the bedchamber before dropping back onto the pillow with a groan. “Gilmore … wasn’t he here?”
“I’m surprised you remember.” She dropped the bloodied cravat in a wrinkled heap on top of his shoes. “He helped you into bed and then departed.”
His lips twisted with contempt. “No scolding?”
“You’re married now. He left that task to me. And I will happily fulfill it.” She jerked open the buttons of his coat and then his waistcoat. “It was selfish and stupid of you to drink and brawl. And then to make noise and wake up your father, to let him see you this way.”
“Don’ care wha’ he thinks. Blast him.”
“No, blast you. Sit up now so that I can remove your coat before you ruin it.”
He gingerly levered himself up, swaying a little and scowling. “You’re angry.”
“A brilliant observation.” Maddy worked the form-fitting coat off his shoulders and down his arms, then flung the garment onto a nearby chair. She did the same to his waistcoat, leaving him clad in only shirt and trousers. “I’ve every right to be furious, and so does your father. You behaved foolishly tonight. You drank too much and you engaged in a fistfight.”
“I won’ be led around on a leash.”
He’d said that earlier, and now it only irritated her all the more. Especially when he gazed at her so sullenly—as if she were the one at fault. “You’re free to do as you please,” she snapped. “So long as you show respect to me and to your family. Which you did not do tonight. Where did you go, anyway?”
Frowning, Nathan rubbed his eyes as if trying to call forth the memory. “Played hazard. Had a few drinks. Tha’s all.”
“That isn’t all. You reek of perfume. I wonder if you went to a brothel.”
His eyes widened. He glanced away as if unable to meet her gaze. His guilty reaction only confirmed what she already knew. He had sought his pleasure in the arms of another woman. Maddy’s throat felt taut, her heart aching. His actions shouldn’t hurt—yet they did.
A low knock sounded on the door. Grateful for the chance to pull herself together, she went to answer the summons. A footman entered with a silver tray. On it sat a jug of water and a small stack of linens, along with a pot of tea and two cups.
She drew a small table nearer to the bed for the tray. Seeing the young servant flick a curious glance at Nathan’s bloodied face, she dismissed the fellow at once and he vanished out the door. No doubt the conversation in the servants’ hall tomorrow morning would be animated, but Maddy didn’t care. Nathan had only himself to thank for that.
She unfolded one of the cloths and dipped it into the hot water. Going to the bed, she found him sitting up and leaning back against the pillows, his eyes shut again. She bent close and began scrubbing the rusty smears from around his nose and mouth.
His eyelids snapped open. “Ouch! Have a care!”
“Oh, did I hurt you?”
Even in his befuddled state, he must have detected the sarcasm in her tone, for he snatched the cloth from her and dabbed more gently at his lower face, wiping away the blood. Maddy went to pour a cup of tea, straining out the leaves and adding a lump of sugar. As she stirred vigorously, Nathan spoke in a lowered tone. “Nothing happened … just so y’ know.”
“Nothing? Is that what you call coming home injured and staggering?” Marching to him, she thrust the cup into his hand, trading it for the soiled cloth. “Here, drink this. It will help sober you.”
He sipped obediently at his tea, wincing slightly as if his face hurt. “I meant … the woman. Nothin’ happened with her.”
Even if that was true, Maddy wasn’t ready to forgive him. “So why did nothing happen? Because you and another man fought over her, and he won?”
“No! That wasn’t why I punched Dunham.”
The damp cloth dropped from her nerveless fingers and fell onto his cravat on the floor. Dismayed, she stared at Nathan. “You were scuffling with the Duke of Houghton’s heir?”
“He insulted you. And worse.” Grimacing, Nathan shoved the empty teacup onto the bedside table. “He said he’d kissed you.”
Startled, she sank down onto the edge of the bed. Her fingers clutched at the folds of her nightdress. Nathan looked furious and a part of her heart sang that he could be so upset at the notion of her with another man. It proved he did care for her … didn’t it?
Or maybe he just thought he owned her.
“Yes, Lord Dunham kissed me,” she confessed. “But it was not at Emily’s ball, if that’s what you’re thinking. It was the evening before the auction. I hadn’t even met you yet.”
He glowered, looking only slightly mollified. “Did you enjoy it?”
Maddy considered lying just to punish him. But that would only feed his anger at her cousin. “No, I did not.” She paused, then added, “And if you don’t believe me, ask Lady Milford. She came backstage just as I hit Lord Dunham with the rose bouquet he’d given me.”
Nathan studied her as if assessing the veracity of her statement. His white shirt was open at the collar and exposed part of his chest. She changed her mind about him looking like a ne’er-do-well. With his black hair mussed and his face bruised, he brought to mind a warrior after a hard battle. A battle to defend her honor.
Unexpectedly, he groped for her hand and held it. His knuckles were raw and reddened, his eyes clearer now. With his face scrubbed free of blood, he looked more like his old self. He smiled grimly, his dimples causing an untimely stirring of desire in her. “So I was right,” he said. “The rat did try to force himself on you. You’re never to go near him again. Is that clear?”
A lurch of alarm assailed Maddy. If Nathan forbade her to see Dunham, she’d lose the chance to confront her grandfather.
“I’m likely to encounter him in society,” she pointed out. “In fact, the entire family is attending the Duke of Houghton’s ball in a few weeks. The acceptance has already been sent out.”
“Then cancel it.”
His inflexible decree must not stand, Maddy knew. Determined to use any means to woo him to her will, she scooted closer on the bed and flattened her palms over his shirt, looking into his eyes. “Darling, listen to me. Emily is very much looking forward to this ball. It will be an excellent opportunity for her to see Lord Theo again. And I must accompany her … in case she needs assistance with her makeup.”
He glared. “I won’t have m’ sister dangling after Dunham’s brother.”
“But Emily is set on him. I believe Lord Theo is terribly fond of her, too. And he seems so much nicer than his brother.” Maddy draped her arms around Nathan’s neck, her fingers playing with his hair. “I want her to find a good husband who will cherish her, don’t you? Someone who will make her as happy as you’ve made me.”
She brushed her lips across the bruise on his cheek. With a deep groan, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her, his tongue sweeping her mouth with hungry intensity. He tasted of brandy and she felt the rise of passion, the quickening of heat that only he could stir in her. Then Nathan drew back to growl, “Fine, we’ll go t’ the damn ball. But Dunham had best not come within ten feet of you, or by God, I’ll rip his face off.”
It was hardly a romantic declaration. Yet his fierce tone made Maddy glow with pleasure. “I’ll be sure to warn him if he tries.”
Nathan pulled her down fully onto the bed so that she lay half draped over his hard form. His hands gripped her possessively, moving up and down her back. “You’re mine.”
“You’re mine, as well,” she declared just as fiercely. “There will be no more brothels.”
He stared at her a moment. Then his mouth curled into a rather sheepish smile. “No brothels. Don’ want anyone else. Only you.”
A rush of tender emotion brought a lump to her throat. Unable to speak, she tucked
her head into the crook of his shoulder, relishing the strong beating of his heart against her breasts. Maybe it was just the liquor talking, but it was the closest he’d ever come to admitting he cared for her.
Maddy squeezed her eyes shut. If only he loved her as she loved him. The truth of that revelation shook her. She did love Nathan, for better or for worse. Somehow, despite all the friction between him and his father, despite the coldhearted arrangement of their marriage, she had grown fonder of her husband than she could ever have imagined possible. Yet he would be leaving her in a matter of weeks.
His hands lay heavy and still on her back. She lifted up slightly to see that his eyes were closed again. He had fallen asleep and wouldn’t be making love to her tonight. Nevertheless, she was content just to hold him, happy to savor the joy of his presence. If only she could find a way to win his heart. Yet all of her wishes in that regard might come crashing down once he found out her secret.
Maddy knew she was playing a dangerous game. For Nathan would be furious when he learned her real purpose in wanting to attend the Duke of Houghton’s ball.
Chapter 20
While the Earl of Gilmore assisted his mother out of the coach, Maddy tilted her head back to gaze up at the grand edifice. Tall pillars flanked the double front doors and supported a classically designed portico. Torchlight played over the footmen in crimson livery and the procession of finely garbed guests going up the marble steps.
She drew an unsteady breath. Though the mid-May evening was mild, a shiver prickled her skin. This magnificent residence belonged to her grandfather, the Duke of Houghton. Long ago, her mother had lived here as a child, whenever the ducal family had been in London.
This was the moment Maddy had long anticipated. At last, she would be entering the belly of the beast. Instead of a sense of triumph, however, she’d felt tense and queasy for the past few days, her stomach twisted into knots. She wanted this confrontation, she craved it with all her heart and soul. Yet now that the time had come, she dreaded it as well.
Emily joined her, leaning close to whisper, “Are you quite certain Lord Theo will be here?”
Nathan’s sister looked especially beautiful tonight with her russet-brown curls pinned up and her face glowing from the skillful application of cosmetics. Tiny embroidered roses decorated her cream silk gown, the fabric from one of the bolts that Nathan had brought from China.
Maddy summoned a smile. “He’s bound to be at his grandfather’s ball. Don’t worry, darling. Everything will be just fine.”
If only she herself could stop worrying. When she confronted her grandfather, how would it affect Nathan’s family? Would it cause a huge scandal? What if she ruined all hope of Lord Theo ever courting Emily?
Whenever Maddy had contemplated this night, she’d envisioned a dramatic scene in which she rebuked the Duke of Houghton for his cruelty in disowning his daughter for the sin of falling in love with a commoner. Then she would announce to the astonished guests that Lady Sarah Langley was her mother. Everyone would be dumbfounded to learn that the actress they had scorned had a close blood connection to one of the most exalted families in England.
But now Maddy had second thoughts. Perhaps it would be best to make her curtsy to the duke without revealing her true identity. Then she could find a quiet moment in which to address him alone. She could still speak her mind to him, but she would do so in private.
Yes. That would be far more sensible.
The new plan eased a portion of her tension. She mustn’t let her desire for revenge harm those around her. Somehow, she had begun to think of Nathan’s family as her own. She could see now that the dowager showed love in her own gruff way, that Lady Sophia’s discontent was rooted in grief for her husband. Surprisingly, Maddy also felt a certain fondness for Lord Gilmore ever since he’d helped Nathan to bed on the night of his drunken debauchery.
She couldn’t hurt them. She wouldn’t hurt them.
Especially not sweet, naïve Emily.
The girl went to join her father, and Nathan strolled to Maddy’s side. Her husband looked extraordinarily attractive tonight in a form-fitting black coat and stark white cravat, his long dark hair tied neatly at his nape. The bruise on his cheek had faded. The past few weeks had been wonderful, for in the aftermath of their quarrel, he and Maddy had grown closer. Though he’d never voiced words of love, Nathan had escorted her to shops and parties and the park, seldom straying from her side. Lately, she’d even allowed herself to entertain the hope that he might change his mind about leaving England.
Bending close, he murmured, “You look dazzling, darling. You’ll outshine every woman here.”
She had dressed with great care tonight, donning her finest ball gown, a rich cobalt-blue silk that enhanced the color of her eyes. Shunning the elaborate curls of the other ladies, she had arranged her blond hair in a simple twist with a few wisps framing her face. A sapphire necklace from the family jewels gleamed above her breasts.
Before she could do more than smile at the compliment, he lifted her gloved hand to his lips and kissed the back. “You’ve been very quiet tonight,” he said, studying her quizzically. “Don’t worry, Dunham won’t come near you. I’ll make certain of that.”
“And you’re to be civil,” she reminded him. “Promise me there will be no fisticuffs in the midst of the ball.”
He grinned. “As you wish.”
A quiver ran through her as he tucked her gloved hand in the crook of his arm. Little did he know, she feared Dunham’s venomous reaction when he learned of their blood relationship. Even though she’d decided to confront Houghton in private, the truth would still find its way to her two cousins. Once Dunham and Lord Theo knew, the news would not remain hidden for long from society, as well.
And what would her husband say when he found out? Nathan would be very displeased that she’d kept such a vital secret from him.
But that could not be helped now. Had she told him, he might have tried to interfere in some way, and this was something she had to do for herself.
They proceeded up the steps, following the earl and his mother, with Emily and Lady Sophia close behind them. Maddy’s knees felt ready to buckle. She had never been more grateful for Nathan’s support as they passed through the open doorway and into a magnificent entrance hall lit by blazing candles in a crystal chandelier.
An array of guests mingled in the large space, the hum of voices echoing in the vast room. Gentlemen in formal black coats escorted ladies adorned in dazzling jewels and exquisite gowns. Her gaze followed a broad staircase that led upward to the reception rooms. The wrought-iron balustrade was festooned with swags of gold ribbon. How many times had her mother walked down that staircase? Had Mama regretted leaving this splendid mansion for life with a traveling band of players? She had once called this house a gilded cage.
To be standing here now seemed unreal to Maddy. She had dreamed of this moment for so many years. It was upon her now, and she could scarcely contain her nervous anticipation.
She clung to Nathan’s arm as they joined the slow-moving receiving line. She tried to peer ahead, but there were too many people blocking her view. In front of her, the Earl of Gilmore stood in line with the dowager, who was clad in green satin and leaning on her cane. Nathan turned to chat with Emily and Lady Sophia, laughing at something they said, though Maddy could make no sense of the conversations swirling around her. She felt caught in a bubble, her hands damp inside her kidskin gloves.
At last they approached the front of the line. The Earl of Gilmore and the dowager greeted flaxen-haired Lord Dunham with his thin features and, beside him, Lord Theo, with neatly combed sandy hair, looking scholarly in his gold-rimmed spectacles.
At least Emily would be happy tonight.
Even as that thought flitted through Maddy’s mind, it was her turn. Nathan uttered a cool greeting to the two men. She could see no lasting damage to Dunham from the fistfight with Nathan. As she briefly touched hands with her cousins, they spo
ke to her, but the meaning of their words failed to register in her mind. Her attention already had shifted to the old man beside them.
The Duke of Houghton.
With a jolt, she realized that her grandfather sat hunched in a wheeled invalid’s chair. Stoop-shouldered, he had a tonsure of wispy gray hair that encircled his bald pate. His dark attire hung on his emaciated form, his chest sunken beneath a white waistcoat. Despite his scrawny appearance, however, he held his chin at a haughty tilt.
He gave a curt nod to Nathan.
Only by rote did she manage to dip a graceful curtsy. Her mouth felt dry, her heart pounding. “Good evening, Your Grace.”
Rising slowly, she gazed straight at her grandfather’s withered features. So this was the man who had shunned Mama. Over many years, hatred of him had formed a calcified knot inside Maddy. But she should not have dreaded this meeting. He was just an arrogant aristocrat at the end of his days.
He peered at her through rheumy blue eyes. She stared back, unable to tear her gaze from him. His face was so gaunt, his nose looked very prominent. She saw in him her mother’s high cheekbones and a certain similarity in the oval shape of their faces.
The duke leaned forward suddenly. His crablike hand groped out, his skeletal fingers closing around hers.
“Sarah?” he croaked.
Her heart took a tumble. Dear God, he had mistaken her for her mother. Papa had always remarked on the resemblance between them. “No,” Maddy whispered, then said, louder, “No, that isn’t my name.”
She tried to pull her hand free, but his gnarled fingers held on to her with surprising strength. “You’re Sarah. Don’t try to bamboozle me, girl. You always did try to do so.”
Nathan intervened, saying gently, “Your Grace, I’m afraid you’re mistaken. This is my wife, Lady Rowley.”
She wanted to back away. They were drawing attention from the nearby guests as people turned and stared. She spied Lady Milford in the crowd, her lips pursed in concern. A short distance away, Lady Gilmore stood frowning, the quizzing glass held to one eye.
