He lay in the tub feasting on the beauty standing before him. For years he’d taken her adulation for granted. It used to warm his heart, and make him strut around like a peacock. Now he wanted to own her heart, and while he knew Maddy had been infatuated with him, infatuation was not love. Infatuation was a different beast altogether. It meant you worshipped from afar without ever really knowing the person you idolized. Infatuation was often quick to flame, bright to burn, but easily extinguished once you truly began to learn all there was to know about a person. Maddy didn’t know him-not really. Right now, he wasn’t sure he even knew himself.
He remembered his conversation with Anthony. If he told Maddy the truth about the babe, he was petrified he’d dowse any chance of Maddy wanting and learning to love him, and the pain ripping through his chest right now made him realize how much he longed for her love.
“You’re scaring me,” she whispered.
“I want to tell you when I am holding you in my arms.”
A smile lit her beauty. “That’s easily fixed. The tub looks big enough for two.” Her hand dipped in the water and sprinkled drops on his bare chest, and his tired body forgot why it should be exhausted and stirred to life.
Her fingers dipped again and trailed lower, his erection straining toward what it most wanted—her hand wrapped firmly around him.
He stilled her questing fingers, his grip tighter than he meant. “I’m serious, Maddy. Please let me do this right!”
Her smile died and he inwardly cursed himself, but guilt over keeping something from her had made him lash out. “For once, please obey me.”
Her hand left his body as if she’d been burned.
“I shall await you downstairs then.” She quickly pivoted on her heals, and with her head held high, she left his bathing chamber.
He ran a hand through his hair. “Christ!” The expression on her face when he’d stilled her hand was one of hurt and confusion. He’d caught a glimpse of poignant sadness in her eyes as she’d turned from him.
God damn it to hell. He slapped the water sending droplets flying. He’d made a mistake turning her away. Maddy would be reading far more into it than there was because he’d come from Sarah’s house.
He dipped his head under the water and quickly washed the smoke from his hair. The longer he left Maddy to her wonderings, the harder this would be.
#
Maddy sat waiting for her husband in much the same way Marie Antoinette must have awaited her fate: with fear and trepidation. The clock on the mantle place seemed to slow down altogether. She prayed it would stop. She didn’t want to hear what her husband wished to tell her. The formality of his words and countenance screamed nothing but bad news.
He’d turned her away. They’d been man and wife for only a few days. Had he tired of her this quickly? She swallowed back an even greater fear. Perhaps it was simply that he’d seen his past lover and decided he preferred her charms compared to her meager offerings.
Her body grew cold, as her mind filled with images of being sent to Richard’s country estate while he lived in town with Sarah.
She hugged herself tightly. If that was what he wished for, then she’d do it. Leave him. She loved him more than life itself and could no more deny him his happiness than plunge a dagger in his chest.
“Don’t look so worried, Maddy.”
Her gaze flew to the doorway where her husband, freshly bathed and immaculately dressed, stood watching her. The assault on her senses was immediate. His hair was still damp from his bath and the wet had darkened it to the color of honey. He was formally dressed, his tight forest-green jacket molding to the breadth of his broad shoulders before narrowing down to a trim waist, and finally disappearing into a pair of skintight trousers. His calves were covered with knee-high hessians. He was like a Greek god and his beauty stole her breath away for a few moments.
His tone when he spoke was oddly soothing, yet anxiousness cloaked him like a smothering fog.
“Do I have anything to worry about?” she replied, her voice catching.
She watched him casually stride to the sideboard and pour himself a drink. Tension cloaked his shoulders. This must be bad if he had to fortify himself first. He downed the glass and refilled it. She watched him swallow it and then allowed her eyes to roam over him. Her body reacted to his blatant masculinity, and warmth pooled between her thighs. She might want Richard to be happy, but in a blink of her eye she knew her previous thoughts were false. She’d not give him up without a fight. They could be very happy together, if he’d only give her his heart.
His freshly shaved face emphasized his dimples and his eyes—those deep blue eyes—gazed at her as if she were a stranger. He sank into the chair opposite her with a sigh. “This is the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to do.”
“More difficult than marrying me?” she asked dryly.
He pinned her with the kind of look that robbed grown women of their wits. “It was the easiest thing in the world to marry you, Maddy. It was the right thing to do. After all, you were only trying to save me.”
While she busily gathered herself, composing her body to brace herself for the pain of his words, he surprised her by crossing over to her and falling on his knees at her feet. He took her hands in his and raised them to his lips.
“Before the fire started, Sarah told Anthony and I some bad news.”
“Is this bad news why she wanted to see you and Anthony?”
His hesitation was slight. “Yes, she’s in a great deal of trouble.”
“I don’t understand. Trouble?”
“Her groom believes the girth on Charles’s saddle was cut and that is why he fell.”
Maddy gasped, clutching her chest. “So she thinks someone deliberately tried to hurt Lord Wrentham? He could have been killed…He was killed.” At Richard’s nod, she added, “Who would want Charles dead…other than her, of course.”
Richard let that comment slide away. “That’s what we have to find out.”
“We?”
“Anthony, Rufus and I have agreed to come to her aid. Sarah thinks she’s now in danger.”
Maddy frowned. “This is very confusing. If she’s in danger, how and why?”
Richard took a large gulp of his brandy. “Sarah believes Timothy Chesterton killed his brother for the title and is hoping to blame her. Everyone knows she did not wish to marry Charles. They would assume she’d killed her husband to be free to marry me. No-one was to know I’d end up compromising you and that we’d marry so quickly.”
“Are you sure she didn’t do it?”
“She wasn’t in Newmarket for the hunt. She was unwell and had stayed in London.”
Maddy was missing something important. “Why is Sarah now in danger? With Charles dead, the estate goes to Timothy anyway.”
Richard’s blue irises darkened and his nostrils flared. “Sarah is with child. Do you understand what that means?”
It only took Maddy a second to understand the implications of this.
“No wonder she feels threatened. If Timothy killed his brother for the title and estate, which I think he’s perfectly capable of, he can’t risk Sarah giving birth to a son.”
“Exactly. We set a controlled fire at her house to give her an excuse to move in with Anthony and Melissa, an excuse that wouldn’t cause Timothy to be suspicious.”
“Is that why you were so nervous about telling me? Is it because Sarah has moved into your brother’s house?” She bent and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I think it’s the right thing to do. I only would have been upset if you’d tried to move her into our home.” Her smile fled at the thought. “That’s not what you want to do, is it?”
“Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous.” He stood up swooping Madeline into his arms and dropping her into his lap as he sank into the settee. “I want you all to myself,” and he kissed her passionately.
When he finally let her up for air, they were both breathing hard. “That’s all right then.”
<
br /> “Thank you, Princess. Thank you for not being upset at our offer of protection, and for being my friend. I don’t deserve you.” He hugged her tightly against his chest. “Don’t worry, Maddy. Sarah is in my past. I mean that; however, I do owe her my help.”
“It’s in your nature to help.” At his frown, she added, “I love that about you. Your kindness and how you protect those weaker than yourself is admirable.”
She lay curled up in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder, relief escaping with each breath. He still wanted her. The kiss and the hard erection she felt under her bottom told her all she needed to know.
He pulled back and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. I have to go now.”
“But you’ve had no sleep. You need rest. We have Lady Pillsbury’s ball tonight. It’s my first ball as your wife.” The wobble in her voice couldn’t hide the fear the event was evoking in her. Everyone would be looking at her, and judging their relationship.
He stood as he laughed. “I’ll be home to escort you, don’t worry.” At her silence, he added, “I promise, Princess. And I never break a promise.”
She didn’t fail to note that he didn’t say where he was off to in such a hurry.
#
Richard didn’t look back as he left the room. He had to leave as fast as possible, even though all he wanted to do was take her to bed and lose himself in her. Christ, he felt like his heart would hammer out of his chest. She hadn’t asked. Thank God. He hadn’t had to lie. She hadn’t even considered that the babe was anyone else’s but Charles’s. Yet, the secret ate at him. He should have told her. Was it lying by omission?
Chapter Ten
Dear Miss Madeline
It is indeed very hot here, and I would not be male if I had not noticed the beautiful, bright clothing of the native women.
Enclosed please find another gift that I suspect your mother will chastise me for. I asked the Indian lady who cooks my meals to select a sari (that’s the name of the dress the Indian women wear) for you. I suggest you don’t actually wear it or I shall be banned from Hascombe forever, but I know you’d love to feel the cloth and see the colors. As to midriffs, remember it is as hot as hades here, not like our summers. The Indians sensibly dress for the heat, unlike the European ladies who live in India. They seem to swoon from the heat, complain about it constantly, and yet continue to wear the most ridiculous number of undergarments.
More good news! I will be sailing into Portsmouth in two months and plan to stop in to Hascombe on my way through to London. You can prove your skill with the bow. Perhaps we can have a challenge? Whoever hits the bulls-eye first, buys the other a treat from Mrs. Stanner’s bakery in the village.
Your friend,
Richard Craven
The dreaded night was here. The ballroom teemed with the finest of society. The social elite had donned their evening best. The women were dripping with jewels, and their scandalously low cut, yet glamorous gowns, swept the floors. The men were in white tie and tails, with polished shoes and crisply pressed black jackets, and trousers. Status was being displayed in abundance.
Never had Maddy felt such a fraud. She didn’t belong here. Every head had turned upon their entrance, the scandal of their rushed wedding the latest topic of conversation. She’d already heard one matron whisper, “So like a Strathmore to be the center of scandal.” She gripped tightly on to Richard’s arm. Melissa’s lady’s maid had dressed her mahogany hair and the rich blue silk gown she had chosen to wear complemented her dark coloring. Complementing Richard’s golden beauty as she did with her dark beauty, Melissa had told her they made a stunning pair.
“Relax, Maddy. You look gorgeous.” Richard gave a small frown. “I’ll more than likely be a nervous wreck by the ball’s end, fighting to keep myself from burning out the eyes of the men that gaze upon you for too long. That dress reveals a lot more of your beauty than I like.”
“They are looking at the necklace. That is all. It’s divine.” Richard had gifted her a stunning sapphire necklace and earbobs before they had left.
“It’s not the bloody necklace they’re looking at,” he muttered under his breath.
A faint smile touched her lips. He sounded very possessive. A welcome shiver ran down her spine.
“Madeline, how lovely you look this evening,” Melissa was suddenly at her side.
“Quite a crush this evening,” her husband Anthony added as he joined her.
Melissa slipped her arm through Maddy’s. “There are a lot of women I’d like you to meet.” At Maddy’s panicked look she added, “Don’t worry. We shall start with Lady Horsham. Once they see her approval, the rest will follow.”
Once the ladies had moved off through the crowd, the men walked toward the card room. “Madeline seems to have accepted your explanation of the fire. She still looks at you with the same love-sick eyes.”
Anthony’s observation eased the knot in his stomach. “She’s been a tad quiet tonight. You were correct, she didn’t ask who the father was, but I still feel like a lying piece of turd…”
“Let us ensure it stays that way. Keep her away from Sarah. I don’t trust her not to accidentally let something slip.”
“I’d like to ensure we catch Timothy quickly. Then I can walk away from Sarah with a clear conscience.”
“Amen to that, brother. Speaking of which,” Anthony hesitated before saying, “Following on from our meeting this afternoon, Sarah’s groom is now ensconced at Hascombe, and Rufus has sent men to Newmarket looking for any sign of anyone who’s suddenly come into money. Timothy could have paid someone to do his dirty work.”
Just then an immediate hush came over the ballroom and all eyes turned toward the stairs. Rufus was suddenly at their side. “Stephen vehemently tried to dissuade her, but she would not listen.”
Richard drew in a deep breath. Sarah. Sarah had arrived on the arm of Stephen Milton, Lord Worthington. Stephen had been left at the house to ensure Sarah’s safety. What the hell was she doing here? She was dressed in grey with a black armband. Not only was she not in black, it was utterly scandalous to be seen at a ball before her husband had even been buried.
It was a mistake of gigantic proportions. The crowd drew in a collective breath, and in an unequivocal cut, emphatically turned their backs on her.
“Can you talk some sense into her and get her out of here.” Rufus’s plea worked. Richard knew he had to do something. She’d ruin everything.
He made his way quickly up the stairs taking them two at a time.
Sarah burst into tears. “I’m so sorry. I needed to see you. I’m so scared...”
With Stephen on one side of her, Richard took her arm and the two men led her from the ballroom.
Immediately, all eyes turned to focus on Madeline. Fans fluttered as women began gossiping, and as their pointed stares pierced her, their sharp glances speared her.
She tried to smile through the pain in her chest. Anger, hot as the fires of hell, quickly followed. How could he? Anthony was immediately at her side. “Richard did the right thing. You’ll realize that when you calm down. My dance, I believe.”
#
It had been over two hours since Richard had deserted her and Madeline’s face ached from having to smile as if her whole world had not been blown apart. Melissa, Rheda, and their husbands hovered around her like an armed guard. She’d finally escaped from everyone by saying she was slipping into the retiring room. Instead, she made her way into the garden, the cool night air dowsing the intensity of her shame.
“Damn him. Damn Charles Chesterton.”
“I hardly think it’s my brother’s fault for falling off his horse. It’s that slut of a wife you should be blaming.”
Maddy spun round at the sound of Timothy Chesterton’s sleazy voice. The man oozed slime and her skin crawled at the thought of him.
He moved closer, crowding her up against the bricked wall of the rose garden. She shouldn’t have wandered so far from the house. She looked anxiou
sly around her, but she could see no way past him.
“And to think Craven ran after her like a whipped puppy when he already has this delight…” His gaze, followed by his finger, tracked over her bosom, “…waiting for him at home.”
She battered his finger away. “Don’t touch me.”
“I thought you’d prefer a man who found your abundant charms enticing for a change and a man who prefers you to Sarah.” Before she knew what he was about, he had used his large body to pin her against the wall, and his hand was at her throat squeezing the breath out of her. “Don’t move or scream or I’ll snap this slender neck. Richard would probably thank me for it.”
Her fingers clawed at his hand but he simply squeezed tighter and soon black spots danced before her eyes. Her hands dropped to her sides in defeat. She smelt the brandy on his breath. He was foxed. She’d never be able to reason with him. She prayed that if she stayed still, he’d grow bored with tormenting her and leave.
“That’s more like it.” His other hand clamped on her breast and squeezed it. “Who would have thought the traitorous neighbor’s daughter would turn into such a beauty. I’ve lusted after you for years, but I didn’t think I’d have any chance of having you for I’d never lower myself to marry a Strathmore.” His hands began to roam over her body. “Imagine my surprise when Rufus proved your father’s innocence and gained an earldom. But by then, you only had eyes for Craven. But I will have what I desire...”
To her horror his mouth took hers. He tried to force entry into her mouth, and when she refused, he simply choked her until she obeyed. He tasted of everything in this world that was disgusting. Tears welled in her eyes as his hand left her breast and snaked down her body and began lifting her skirts. This couldn’t be happening…
Then, through her pain and humiliation, she heard a voice. It was a male voice, young, but strong and very, very welcome.
“I’d release the lady before I call all and sundry to witness you behaving like an animal. I believe the lady finds your attentions odiously distasteful.”
Timothy did not release her. He merely looked over his shoulder at the shadowed male. “I have no idea who you are, but the lady and I are having a private liaison. Are we not?” The hand squeezing her neck warned her exactly about what she was supposed to say. She remained silent even as the hand choked the life out of her.
Invitation to Passion Page 13
