by Bree Wolf
Meeting his gaze and seeing the concerned look in his eyes, Madeline once more found her decision made for her. “You are too kind, my lord,” she replied as she took his offered arm, forcing her voice not to betray the turmoil that lived in her heart. “However, I believe a little fresh air would be preferable. If you don’t mind?”
For a moment, he held her gaze before a knowing smile tugged up the corners of his mouth. “It’ll be my pleasure.” Then he escorted her through the crowd, and they slipped out one of the side doors onto the large terrace bathed in a warm glow as the last rays of the sun disappeared behind the horizon.
Releasing his arm, Madeline stepped around a large stone pillar and up to the rail. “It’s beautiful out here,” she whispered, gazing into the garden below as the warm breeze brushed over her heated skin. Her hands still trembled with the outrage that burnt in her heart, and yet, at the same time, she could feel her body shaking with the anticipation of what was to come. Would he kiss her? How would it make her feel?
“It is indeed.”
Madeline flinched as his breath tickled her skin, and she realised he had come to stand behind her, gazing over her shoulder. For a long time, they stood like this, quietly, without moving, without touching.
Annoyed with her own fluttering nerves as well as Lord Townsend’s obvious inability to simply sweep her into his arms, Madeline spun around and without another thought reached up and pulled him into a kiss.
For a split second, he seemed to be taken aback before his hands settled on her waist, pulling her closer against him. Returning her kiss with fervour, he spun her around and walked her backwards against the stone pillar, his lips hungry on hers.
Overwhelmed by the eagerness of his response, Madeline marvelled at the greedy way with which his mouth moved over hers, demanding and insistent, with no regard for her. Dimly, she recalled the gentle touch of her husband’s lips, the tender way he had looked at her−even if only for a moment.
“I never thought,” Lord Townsend panted as he pulled away, staring at her with a mixture of awe and disbelief, “that you were the kind of woman to be unfaithful to her husband.” He chuckled then. “Don’t misunderstand me though. I’m not complaining.”
Madeline swallowed as she felt the earlier enchantment of the moment fade away. Clinging to it with sheer determination, she ignored the doubts that settled in her belly. “My husband could not care less,” she gritted out, turning a blind eye to the stabbing pain in her heart. “I decide how to live my life.”
“I would have approached you much sooner,” he marvelled, his voice heavy and his gaze hungry, as he pressed his body to hers more firmly, “had I known you would so willingly agree to become my mistress.” Then his mouth claimed hers once more.
Stunned beyond comprehension, Madeline felt her limbs grow limp, her knees almost buckled and only Lord Townsend’s hold on her kept her from slumping to the ground into a puddle of misery.
Mistress?
That one word jerked the last shreds of enchantment from her hands and left Madeline feeling sick to the stomach. What on earth was she doing? How had this happened? How could she ever have thought she could be someone’s…mistress?
And he was right. That was what she was, what she would be if she agreed to this, if she did not stop him!
As his caresses grew more intimate with each heartbeat that passed, panic swelled in Madeline’s chest. She could not do this! This was simply not right; it did not even feel right.
Lifting her hands, she set them on his chest and pushed. At first, he barely seemed to notice. However, when she wrenched her head away, breaking his kiss, he finally stepped back.
“Is something wrong?” he asked, his arms still slung around her waist possessively. “Shall we find a quiet room?”
Shaking her head, Madeline pushed his hands off her and stumbled backwards, needing more distance between them. “I’m sorry,” she gasped, trying to regain her composure as he looked at her with incomprehension. “I was wrong. I thought I could…but I can’t. It’s not…I…I need to go.” And without another look back, Madeline hastened through the nearest door back into the crowded ballroom, utterly stupefied by her own behaviour and terrified of the woman she was becoming.
Chapter Ten − A New Life
After many hugs and kisses from his mother and sister, Derek finally found a moment alone with Kara’s husband as the women tended to preparing supper. Strolling through the manor house, they surveyed the damage. While the walls and floors seemed fine and only a few of the window panes were broken, the roof presented a different matter.
“I’ve tried to cover some of the leaking areas,” Sean explained, pointing to a rather large number of pots and jugs set strategically around one of the upper rooms on the western side to catch leaking rainwater. “However, I don’t seem to be doing it right,” he shrugged, a disappointed look in his brown eyes.
Derek clasped a compassionate hand on his brother-in-law’s shoulder. “Don’t worry yourself. As far as I can see, you’ve done more than anyone could have.” Rather thin and lanky, Sean as a former valet was not quite adept to hard work as he had neither the strength nor the skill. However, his heart was in the right place, and despite everything, he had done his utmost to take care of their family. Derek would always be grateful to him for that. “What about the outbuildings?”
“Mostly, it’s the roof as well,” Sean explained as they headed outside. “Some of the wood is splintering here and there, too. However, since we manage to keep all the livestock in the barn closest to the house, I haven’t yet tried making any repairs to the other.”
Derek nodded, agreeing with his brother-in-law’s decision.
The following day, Derek set out on Arion and surveyed the land, trying to get a better impression of the property he had been awarded. However, as he spotted his tenants’ cabins dotting the countryside, his heart sank as he saw that their condition was not unlike those of his own buildings. They, too, needed repairs, which would prove to be a difficult endeavour as he and Sean had only found a handful of tools in the shed, most of which were covered in rust, almost unusable. In addition, raw material was scarce, and at present, Derek did not have the funds to make any large purchases. Not that he believed that would change soon.
The question remained: how was he to make repairs without tools and replacement materials?
Urging Arion closer to the nearest farm, Derek saw a scrawny man tending to the rundown shed by the side of his house, which looked to be in equal need of repairs. As he approached, the man looked up, and his gaze darkened. “Can I help ye…my lord?”
Tensing at the open bitterness in the man’s tone, Derek had trouble maintaining a friendly expression on his face. “I bid you a good day, sir. Allow me to introduce myself. I am…” For a moment, he gritted his teeth, wishing he could simply introduce himself as Derek McKnight, a farmer’s son, the equal of the man before him. And yet, he knew he could not. “I’m Lord Ainsworth.”
As expected, a dark scowl came to the man’s face. “Good day…my lord.” He stood up straight and raised his chin, and Derek could not help but smile at the pride that shone in the man’s eyes as he stood his ground in front of a gentleman he expected would only look at him with disdain. “The name’s Thompson. What can I do for ye?”
Determined to prove himself worthy, Derek slid off his horse then walked toward Mr. Thompson, a welcoming expression on his face. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, holding out his hand to the man before him.
For a moment, Mr. Thompson seemed as though frozen in place. Only his eyes had narrowed at Derek’s approach as they had shifted to his offered hand, distrust and suspicion clearly visible in them. Finally, his head seemed to nod up and down, and he slowly extended his hand as though afraid Derek might cut it off. “Same here, my lord,” Mr. Thompson mumbled as his own dirt-stained hand closed around Derek’s.
Releasing the man’s hand after a hearty shake, Derek stepped to the side, e
yes gliding appreciatively over the repairs Mr. Thompson had made to the side wall of the shed. “These look expertly done,” he observed, then glanced at the man’s tools laid out in the grass, most of which had seen better days and looked close to falling apart. “Especially with tools as these.”
Turning to look at Mr. Thompson, Derek could see a mixture of pride and apprehension on the man’s face as he absorbed Derek’s words, trying to determine why the new Baron Ainsworth would speak to him so and what his intentions could possibly be.
Knowing these thoughts only too well as Derek had found himself in that very same situation more than once, standing before a member of the ton, torn about what to do and believe, he met Mr. Thompson’s calculating gaze openly. “I can see that you have suffered hardship these past years,” he said honestly. “From what I’ve heard, the late baron had other matters on his mind than providing for his tenants.” Derek swallowed. “I myself have had an obligation to tend to, which has kept me from assisting you in the manner you deserve. For that I am truly sorry.”
Some of the tension left Mr. Thompson’s shoulders as he studied Derek intently, his watchful eyes taking note of every evidence of truthfulness in Derek’s bearing.
“As I did not inherit my title, but had it bestowed upon me for my deeds in battle for our country,” Derek explained, hoping that open words would lay the foundation for future trust between him and his tenants, “I’m afraid I do not possess the means to restore the estate to its former glory.”
Mr. Thompson’s gaze narrowed.
“However, you do have my word,” Derek went on undeterred, “that I will do my utmost to assist you in restoring your farm. I consider it my duty, and I have every intention of fulfilling it.” He took a step toward Mr. Thompson, holding his gaze. “It would help if you could tell me about this land and the problems you are faced with so that I can use the small funds I have in the right place. Will you assist me?”
For a long time, Mr. Thompson looked at him, his eyes wide awake calculating, assessing, and Derek knew that he was being weighed. His own shoulders tensed as he waited for the man’s verdict, hoping that today was the day that they would take the first step toward a better future for both sides.
Scratching his chin, Mr. Thompson inhaled deeply before he spoke. “I shall tell you what I can, my lord.”
“Thank you,” Derek replied, his relief evident in the way his body relaxed. “I truly appreciate your help.”
Over the course of the next two hours, Derek followed Mr. Thompson around the small farm and looked at the state of the house as well as the barn and the shed. Mr. Thompson told him about the condition of the soil as well as the weather, which both seemed quite favourable. However, as expected, they were lacking tools of any kind to make even the smallest repairs, often trading the few tools they did possess with other tenants to help. What presented an even bigger problem was the lack of raw material. As the late Baron Ainsworth had forbidden them from cutting down trees without compensating for them, his tenants had not been able to maintain the condition of their homes, which seemed to deteriorate with every year that passed.
“What nonsense!” Derek exclaimed, annoyed with the late baron’s selfishness. He knew only too well that the man had scraped together every penny and gambled it away like all the ones before. “Please, cut down all the trees you need. I will not charge you for it.”
Mr. Thompson scoffed, “With what, my lord? We no longer possess the tools needed for it. When it became clear that the late baron wouldna change his mind, we sold ‘em while we still could. A good saw is costly and not easy to come by.”
“I see,” Derek grumbled to himself before turning to Mr. Thompson and assuring him that he would find a way to help them fix their homes. Then he mounted Arion and rode away, hoping that the slight signs of hopeful trust he had seen in Mr. Thompson would blossom into more. If only Derek stayed true to his word!
Before returning home, Derek stopped by a small cottage located a short walk north of the main house. Even from a distance, he could see two children running around, chasing each other and laughing. By the side of the cabin, a young woman knelt in the dirt, tending to what he presumed to be a small vegetable garden.
At the sound of his approach, she looked up, and a small smile came to her face as she rose to her feet, the familiar hint of mischief in her eyes. “My lord, welcome home.”
Jumping to the ground, Derek strode over to her, his gaze taking in the strain on her face, the tension in her shoulders as well as the stiffness of her bones as she tried to straighten her back. “Call me Derek as you always have,” he insisted, instantly annoyed with himself for the harshness in his tone. It was hardly her fault that these living conditions were not conducive to her health!
“Don’t look so grim,” she chided, then stepped forward and gently placed a dirt-stained hand to his cheek. “It is good to have you home.”
Derek swallowed. “How are you, Meagan? How are the children?” Glancing over her shoulder, he saw six-year-old Matthew and his younger sister Erin staring at him, their game of tag all but forgotten.
“We’re fine,” Meagan said, brushing her hands on her apron, trying to rub off the dirt. “It’s not easy, but we have a roof over our heads and food on our table.”
As she tried to walk past him, Derek grabbed her arm and pulled her back. His gaze sought hers as words failed him.
A knowing smile came to Meagan’s soft face. “I know,” she whispered as her eyes began to mist. “When I looked up a moment ago and saw you, for a split second I thought it was Edward. I guess a part of me still cannot believe that he is truly gone.” Holding his gaze, she nodded. “I know how you feel. It is good to stay busy, to have something to do to occupy one’s mind. It helps. But sometimes…”
Derek inhaled deeply. “Will you not come and live with us at Huntington House? You’d have it more comfortable there and−”
“No.” Shaking her head, Meagan held his gaze, pride and determination gleaming in her blue eyes. “I don’t need comfortable. I need…”
“I promised Edward,” Derek ground out, remembering a gloomy afternoon when his friend had begged him to look after his family…should something happen to him. And then it had, and what had Derek done? He had brought them to this place and then left them alone to fend for themselves. “He would not want you to live like this.”
Meagan sighed, “But he’s not here, is he?” A tear spilled over and rolled down her cheek before her hand could brush it away, leaving a trail of dirt on her cheek. “Don’t worry about us. Sean helps as much as he can−”
“As much as you let him,” Derek interrupted, never having known a prouder woman than Meagan Dunning.
Glaring at him, she went on, a sharp tone to her words, “We are very lucky to have him…and you.” Her gaze held his, and he could see the same sadness there that he felt in his own heart. Edward had been a good man, torn out of life much too young, leaving behind a widow and two small children.
No, life was not fair.
It never had been.
When he returned home late in the afternoon, his mother awaited him in the kitchen as always. However, from the look in her eyes, Derek could tell that she had more on her mind than cooking. Her greying hair pulled back, she looked rather stern, and for a moment, Derek felt reminded of the rare moments of his childhood when he had gotten himself in trouble. “Is something wrong?” he asked, reaching for the stack of bowls to set the table.
“Not wrong,” his mother corrected, her lips curling slightly as she watched him with dancing eyes. Although her features were rather sharp and angular, his mother was anything but hard and stern. Despite the hardships she had suffered, she had remained young and carefree at heart. “It is good to have ye home, Son.”
Derek nodded. “I am glad to be home,” he said, wondering what she was trying to tell him.
“I know that look.”
Averting his gaze, Derek reached for the spoons. “What look
?”
His mother chuckled, “Don’t play dumb with me, my boy! Ye’ve been here a mere few days, and your mind is already racin’ with all the improvements ye wish to make.” Stepping forward, she lifted a finger as her gaze held his. “Ye have the same look you always have when ye get ready to shoulder all our responsibilities yourself.” As Derek tried to step away, she grasped his arm and pulled him back to look at her. “Ye may be the head of the household, but ye’re not alone in this. That is a lesson ye still haven’t learnt. A lesson ye refuse to learn.”
Derek frowned. He was not hearing this reproach for the first time, and yet, he had never been able to understand what it was his mother wanted him to do. “I do know that,” he insisted. “Believe me. Without all of you, the estate would already have fallen to ruins. I know that I’m dependent on your help.”
Shaking her head, his mother chuckled, a rather indulgent smile on her face as though he was only a little boy who simply did not know any better. “Ye should marry,” she said unexpectedly. “Find someone to truly share your burden with.”
“You’d make a mighty fine husband if you’d only smile more,” his sister threw in from the doorway, her face aglow with delight as she walked into the kitchen, little Collin trailing after her.
Swallowing, Derek cleared his throat. “What’s for supper?” he asked then, once more turning to reach for the spoons. “It smells good. I−”
“What are ye not tellin’ us?” his mother asked from behind him, suspicion clear in her voice. Then she stepped around him, and her gaze found his. Her eyes moved as though she could read his mind, and Derek cringed under her scrutiny. It had always been near impossible to keep secrets from his mother!
Raising his head, Derek met her inquisitive gaze openly, then cleared his throat and said, “If you must know, Mother,” he glanced at his sister, who was listening intently, “I am married.”
While his mother’s gaze narrowed, Kara’s mouth dropped open. “You’re married?” his sister beamed, joy brightening her features. “That’s wonderful! Why didn’t you tell us?” A frown descended upon her face. “Where is she? Why did you not bring her home?”
