Rescued by the Viscount's Ring

by Carol Arens

  Skirts and petticoats made a whooshing noise. Footsteps tapped rapidly up the path to the house.

  ‘Stupid chit.’

  Langerby kicked something. A thorny branch slid under the shrub, came to a rest inches from her hand.

  Oh, my, she should not. But, oh, it would only take a little shove and—She heard him take a step.

  What she was about to do might be wrong...but it would be gratifying.

  She shoved the branch back through the shrub, held it inches off the ground. She felt the tug when his trouser leg caught on a thorn, heard the rip and his gasp when he lost his balance.

  Hitting the ground, he flailed about, grunting and snorting.

  Oh, yes, it was gratifying. She scurried back towards the house. If only somehow Clementine could have magically watched it happen. She knew her cousin would applaud.

  * * *

  ‘And so I tripped him,’ Madeline declared, sitting upon the bed in the master suite and grinning proudly with her bare feet tucked under her sleeping gown.

  Having come to kiss his wife goodnight, Rees felt as if he was the one to have fallen face first on the path.

  ‘That was risky—far too dangerous. You will not do such a thing again.’ He stood on the rug at the foot of the bed, arms crossed, legs spread and knees locked in a stance of authority.

  ‘How do you know I will not?’ What kind of smile was that? Not a promise of future obedience.

  Dash it, the reason should be obvious. He had just decreed she would not.

  And she had challenged him on it.

  ‘Let’s not veer from the point of the conversation,’ she said.

  Given the importance of what she had just told him, it ought to be easy to focus.

  Sadly, his attention wandered more to the pretty ivory nightgown she was wearing than to what she was saying. It was held at the neckline by a pink ribbon tied loosely in a bow.

  Why was it loose? Perhaps she anticipated another goodnight kiss and wanted more.

  Or perhaps he ought to stop staring at the pink ribbon and concentrate on the matter before him.

  At this late hour everyone was in bed and the house quiet. The only noise besides their softly spoken conversation was the gusty wind rattling the shutters, that and the crackle of fire in the hearth.

  Focus, he reminded himself again, then again. It was no use—he was obsessed with the fragile, slippery ribbon. All right, it was not the ribbon as much as what it hid from his sight.

  Really, one tug would—

  ‘Rees Dalton...’ She snapped her fingers in front of his nose. ‘Our sister-in-law is being coerced. Do you not care what her uncle’s wicked scheme will be?’

  He did, of course, but apparently not as much as he cared about making Madeline his wife in deed as well as name. He stood up, then walked to the window, staring down at vague, dark shapes in the dark garden. In the end, it did not help all that much to put a bit of distance between him and temptation.

  ‘At least now I understand why Langerby pushed so hard for the marriage. The man was relentless in his pursuit of me.’

  ‘He has a corrupted soul. Even knowing that his niece loves Wilson, he wants her to—“be attentive to you” were his words.’

  ‘The only woman’s attentiveness I will ever respond to is yours.’

  He heard the bedclothes shift when she got up from the bed. The cloth of her nightgown whispered around her when she walked.

  He turned to look. Fabric undulated about her body like mist.

  He’d given a vow to wait for her decision on their future—he was a man of honour—he was stronger than he knew, wasn’t he?

  Never, though, had he vowed not to influence her decision. On the contrary, he had promised to do so.

  ‘I believe you, Rees. If I stay, I will want the attentiveness of no other man,’ she said, blinking up at him with those lovely blue eyes.

  And if she did not stay? She would be with another. The thought made him sick to his stomach. Made him need to pound the glass and shatter it. A bleeding wound would feel better than the pain of thinking of her wed to someone else.

  ‘Oh, I wish I had done more than trip him! He is hatching up some foul plan for the family. I wonder what he means to do to us.’

  Us? She had included herself among the Daltons. He prayed it was intended and not merely a slip of tongue.

  He was rather glad now that he had not smashed the glass. Now he was free to touch her hair. It was incredibly beautiful, catching the shimmer of lamplight as it did. Slowly, deliberately, he reached for a strand, caressed it between his finger and thumb.

  She frowned at him and slid her hair from his hold. She did not hurry doing it either, but reclaimed it slowly, the same as he’d taken it.

  ‘I can’t think of what has got into you, Rees Dalton.’

  ‘You can,’ he whispered in a voice that resembled a low growl even to his own ears.

  Ah, there! The blush suffusing her face told him she was not insensible to his attempt to woo her. She was as aware as he was that they were alone in the master’s chamber and that while he was fully clothed, she was not.

  ‘Are you trying to distract me from what we have discovered on purpose?’ she said and at the same time glided a half a step closer to him. He wondered if she noticed.

  ‘What is it we are trying to discover, Madeline?’ He traced the backs of his fingers over her cheek. ‘Something of more importance than Langerby, is it not?’

  ‘Oh...’ She took another small step towards him, blinked and set his heart thumping.

  ‘Which,’ he whispered, his hand on the back of her neck to press her ever closer, ‘is why I am going to kiss you.’

  ‘Goodnight?’

  ‘All night, if you so choose.’

  ‘We won’t find an answer to our problem that way.’

  ‘But we will, my angel.’ He lowered his mouth. ‘Trust me.’

  ‘I say, next time Langerby comes to visit, I spy on him again.’

  ‘What?’ Startled, he let his hand fall away.

  ‘Bethany will not tell us anything. She is too frightened of her uncle. If we intend to discover what he had in mind, we will have to do it ourselves.’

  Clever lady, but she was not going to distract him so easily. She knew good and well what their conversation had been about.

  ‘And you believe I will allow you to do this?’

  ‘I do, because you know it is an excellent idea and you also know that you cannot keep me from—’

  Perhaps he could not. What he could do was keep her from talking about it by kissing her.

  Which he did, for a very long and indulgent time.

  ‘We will do it together,’ he murmured, letting go of the kiss.

  ‘All right, good.’ She gazed up at him, heavy lidded and nodding.

  It was time to go back to the couch in his library because there was a point when enticement became coercion.

  For as much as he wanted her, he would not cross that line. Until he presented her with his wedding gift of the reunion with her family, it would not be right.

  * * *

  It was early when Madeline heard laughter coming from below in the garden. It could only be a little after sunrise.

  She opened her eyes, stretched, then got out of bed and padded sleepily to the window.

  The chambermaid had already come to light the fire and draw open the shutters. The heat was wonderful. She would never take being warm for granted again.

  The girl deserved an extra-monetary thank you for her quiet service and her thoughtfulness. First thing when she saw Rees she would tell him to do it.

  With a yawn she drew back the curtain and looked outside. Wilson and Bethany were out for a morning walk in the sunshine.

  As desperately as Madeline had wished for snow, it s
eemed it was not to be.

  A circumstance which seemed to suit the couple rather nicely. Even from up here she sensed their happiness. It was sweet how they could not walk twenty steps without stopping to kiss.

  But they were newlyweds, after all, and it was to be expected, rejoiced over.

  Madeline dropped the curtain, sat down in the chair in front of the fireplace feeling rather—cross?

  Yes, cross and sad.

  She was also a newlywed, but she was not free to openly kiss her husband when the whim took her.

  A condition which she had created. She thought she had been right to do so. It made sense if she meant to come to any sort of logical decision regarding her future.

  Oh, but remembering the way Rees kissed her last night—it seemed right in every way.

  In spite of that she had fought against the intimacy.

  Fought and failed. For all that she tried to avoid it, there was a bond between them whether she willed it to be or not.

  Dodging it by trying to redirect the course of a conversation did no good because as soon as she looked at him she knew what he wanted of her. His eyes shone with wanting her. Not only did she know, but she responded to it.

  She felt like a bee hovering over a flower laden with the most beautiful golden pollen. She wanted it. She had passed by other flowers not nearly as nice. Clearly this was the one blossom she had been seeking—and yet?

  And yet she was not a bee. If she were, she would take what she wanted and move blissfully to the next promising flower.

  Just there was where the trouble really lay. Her decision as to whether she would ‘move on’ or remain married to Rees did not have to do with her trusting him because, when all was said and done, she just did.

  While he might not have always been forthcoming in revealing his circumstances, she understood, she forgave.

  Forgiveness was rather a forever thing. It could not be taken back at a later time or it meant nothing to begin with.

  Rees was who he was. A dependable man; a trustworthy one.

  If only that was all to be considered, life would be flowers and smiles. If that and the state of her heart were all to be considered, she would run to him this moment. She would hug him about the neck and through a hail of kisses announce there would be no annulment.

  Oh, yes, she would drag him back to that bed right over there, the one too big to be slept in alone. She would become his wife for ever.

  Yes, if only.

  What held her back from acting on the impulse had nothing to do with him, but rather with herself.

  She was a runaway, not to be trusted. The worst thing she could do was agree to stay, to promise herself to Rees and his children and then, when the first sign of trouble arose, leave them.

  If she could betray Grandfather the way she had, a man she owed her whole life to, who knew what she might do?

  She owed her life to Rees, as well. Yet even that had not prevented her from dashing away from him at the dock.

  Clearly, it was not Rees she needed to learn to trust; it was herself. But given her past decisions, she did not believe in her own good sense.

  With the right provocation she might take to her heels again.

  Two things were needed, in her opinion, to correct wrong behaviour. Repentance and transformation.

  Repentance, she had in abundance.

  Transformation was trickier. Facing her flaw was a start, but only the first step.

  Perhaps when she found Grandfather, sought his forgiveness, somehow there would be healing in it.

  How, though, did she even begin to go about finding him? The British Isles were huge, so many people called the place home.

  Her best chance at finding Grandfather was to wait for Rees to help her. He knew places; he was acquainted with people who could help.

  It might need to be after the ball since it was all hands on deck for that.

  She half-wished she had not agreed to Lady Glenbrook’s ball. The sooner she threw herself upon Grandfather’s mercy and Clementine’s—most desperately upon her cousin’s—the sooner she would be free of the guilt that she suspected kept her from making a decision to remain with Rees.

  He was wonderful and she was flawed. A runaway and a breaker of hearts was who she was.

  This very day she was going to admit with all sincerity to Rees how sorry she was to have made him search all night for her in the rain and cold.

  She had apologised, just not with all her heart.

  At that time she had not understood what he had been going through. Now that she did, everything was changed.

  Especially her.

  Nothing he could do would make her run from him again. Problems would come, it was the way life was, but whatever those might turn out to be, she would not run.

  Sitting up straight in the chair, she took a deep breath and smiled. What a relief it was to no longer feel cross. It was not in her nature to be so.

  Life was much better now that she knew what to do.

  Glancing at the bed, she decided that it was not as big and lonely as she had first thought.

  No, rather it held a great deal of—well, of something wonderful.

  Chapter Eleven

  ‘I’m grateful that you are a level-headed bride, Madeline,’ Lady Glenbrook declared later that afternoon while removing a Christmas ornament from a box. ‘Bethany is quite overcome with...let us call it wedded bliss...to be of any help.’

  Madeline wanted to be overcome, as well! Hopefully by tonight she would be. Sadly, every time she tried to get Rees alone so that she could tell him what she had decided, his mother assigned him an urgent task that needed doing.

  This morning, before she could have a private word with him, he had been sent off to cut down a Christmas tree.

  He had seemed to be reluctant to go, but Emily Lark and Victoria Rose screeched with such joy that he could do nothing but bundle them up and go get them a Christmas tree.

  Madeline had been reaching for her coat, intending to go along with them, but Lady Glenbrook assigned her a task involving the ball. She could not refuse, given that the ball was in her honour.

  No sooner had Rees returned with the tree than he’d been sent out again to gather garlands because, as his mother explained, the ball was three days after Christmas, which was only five days in total from today, which was already halfway spent.

  Drat it. Now that she had made up her mind to be his wife in deed as well as name, every delay seemed achingly long.

  ‘No one knows how much work goes into a celebration this time of year—even a smallish one like this will require all hands on deck, in ship’s talk, but we have one, so it is appropriate.’ Lady Glenbrook placed the ornament on the tree and then smiled at it. ‘I can’t say how I appreciate you, my dear. So many years without a daughter, and now, here you are beside me. Oh, look! Here is an ornament that Rees carved when he was ten years old. It’s a boat. And look there. That small dark spot is from when he cut himself.’

  She placed it in Madeline’s hand for her to arrange on a branch.

  ‘Has he always liked ships?’ She placed the ornament in just the right spot to be admired.

  ‘I think boat was his first word—for all that I’d hoped it would be Mama.’

  A thrill skittered over Madeline’s nerves. Mama was a title she’d been given, but had not yet accepted. Hopefully she would do it very soon.

  But first she needed time alone with her husband in order to tell him.

  ‘I hope Rees gets back with those branches soon.’ Lady Glenbrook swiped a greying strand of springy hair away from her face with the back of her hand. ‘There is still so much to be done. Just because there is a party does not mean we can neglect Christmas.’

  ‘I wonder if there will be snow.’

  ‘It’s hard to predict, but for your
sake I hope so.’

  The front door opened and six men led by Rees entered the parlour, their arms laden in fresh greenery.

  All of a sudden, it smelled like Christmas.

  She had never spent the holiday away from Grandfather and Clemmie. If only—but, no—it was too much to hope Rees would find them before Christmas.

  ‘What is the weather like outside, Rees? Your wife is hoping for snow.’

  He dropped his boughs on the hearth.

  ‘It’s about to.’ He made a dash, caught her hand and hurried her outside before his mother could object.

  Which she would not have. In glancing back, Madeline spotted a smile on her mother-in-law’s face. At least it seemed like a smile, but it could also be seen as melancholy. Madeline felt her heart twist, thinking Lady Glenbrook might be recalling days spent with her husband and missing them.

  Following quickly behind, Madeline wanted to dance about in joy. She could scarcely believe she was about to see snow!

  Out on the front steps, she stopped. Yanked her hand out of the strong one wrapped around hers.

  ‘Rees Dalton! The sun is shining!’

  He captured her again, pulling her along to—she did not know to where, but scarcely cared.

  ‘It will snow eventually.’

  ‘What will your mother think?’

  He shrugged, laughing softly.

  ‘She’ll think we are trying to get out of helping,’ she pointed out.

  ‘Come this way. I know someplace where we can be alone.’ It was not as though she could do otherwise since he would not let go of her.

  He led her to the stable, through the great open doors and past several empty stalls.

  ‘Where are the animals?’

  ‘This is their time to run in the pasture. Here...’

  Coming to a door at the far end of the stone structure, he opened it and drew her inside. There might not be snow, but it was cold enough for there to be.

  The room was small but cosy-looking, having a couch, a desk, and a bookcase crammed with volumes looking well read. The room smelled comfortably of leather, polish and old books.