Deceived & Honoured--The Baron's Vexing Wife (#7 Love's Second Chance Series)

by Bree Wolf

  When darkness began to fall, Madeline thought she would go mad with the way her pulse hammered under her skin as she waited for her husband to return. Helping Bessy prepare supper, Madeline kept one eye on the door, willing it to open and bring her husband back to her.

  Only it did not.

  Supper came and went, and the door still would not open.

  “Do you think something happened to him?” she asked Bessy as they cleared the table. “Maybe−”

  “Nah!” Shaking her head, her mother-in-law snorted. “He’s merely actin’ like a typical man. The moment he feels somethin’, he runs for the hills.” Gently patting Madeline’s hand, Bessy smiled at her. “Don’t worry, dear. He’ll be back.” Her smile turned wicked. “And then ye should knock some sense into him.”

  Staring at her mother-in-law, Madeline did not know what to think. However, neither was she given the opportunity to clear her thoughts because Bessy grasped her arm and pulled her toward the front of the house. “Remember? Ye promised to teach us the waltz.”

  As they stepped into the front drawing room, Madeline noticed that all the remaining furniture had been moved from the centre and was now aligned at the far wall. By the front windows stood Kara and Sean. While his wife had an excited gleam in her eyes, Sean looked as though he was going to be sick.

  “Come, come,” Bessy called, gesturing for the couple to join them in the middle of the room. “Let’s begin before I grow old.” Chuckling, she grasped Sean’s thin wrist and yanked him forward. Mumbling something under his breath, Kara’s husband acquiesced.

  “Now, what do we do?” Bessy asked, turning to look at her daughter-in-law.

  Feeling a bit overwhelmed, Madeline tried to remember her own dance lessons. “Well,…eh…this will be a little difficult without music.” To say the least.

  “We could hum,” Kara suggested, her words turning Sean’s face white as a sheet. “Don’t complain,” she chided him. “I’m only asking for one night. You’ve seen people waltz before as well, did it not seem magical?”

  Looking mildly apologetic, Sean still shook his head. “That still doesn’t mean I want to do it myself. You might recall how I have two left hands. Chances are, I’ll have two left feet as well. Are you truly willing to risk your toes?”

  Kara laughed, shaking her head at him. “Maybe all you need is practice.”

  Sean snorted, “Doubtful.”

  Hands on her hips, Bessy sighed, eyeing them all reproachfully. “I’d like to remind ye that I’m not gettin’ any younger.”

  “All right,” Madeline agreed, realising that there was no way of putting this off. “Stand next to me in a line and do as I do.” Quickly, the two women complied while Sean dragged his feet. Then Madeline showed them the basic steps, no more than necessary. “For now, we’ll just move up and down the room,” she cautioned. “Don’t try to do circles yet. It’ll only mess up your footwork.”

  Standing in line, each concentrating on their own steps, the small group danced up and down the length of the room. As expected, Sean stumbled more than once, his steps completely out of line with Kara’s enthusiastic humming, while his wife seemed to glow with each step she took. “This is marvellous,” she beamed, squeezing her husband’s hand excitedly.

  After a while, Madeline suggested Sean and Kara stand up together, explaining how they needed to move together. “Simply do as you did before but remember that you now need to be the mirror image of the other. When Sean steps forward, Kara needs to retreat and the other way around. Do you understand?”

  Kara nodded eagerly while her husband mumbled something unintelligible under his breath.

  For the next quarter of an hour, Madeline and her mother-in-law spent many wonderful moments suppressing their laughter as Sean tripped over his feet, stepped on his wife’s toes and almost dragged them both down to the floor. Each misstep was followed by a series of apologies and curses, interspersed with pleas to finally end this.

  Kara, however, refused to give up. “I want one dance,” she told him, her eyes shining with determination. “One dance where I feel as though I’m floating on air.”

  Again, Sean mumbled something that sounded like a curse.

  Kara’s gaze darkened. “Be advised that the longer you complain, the longer you’ll have to do this. Concentrate, and we’ll be out of here before midnight.”

  “What is going on here?” a dark voice spoke from the doorway, and all heads snapped around.

  Madeline’s breath caught in her throat as she found her husband standing only a few steps away, his brow drawing down as he looked at Kara and Sean. Then his gaze travelled to her, and for a moment, Madeline thought her legs would give out.

  “Your wife is teachin’ us to waltz,” his mother explained, a mischievous gleam in her eyes as she looked at her son. “Care to join us?”

  “She is teaching you to waltz?” he repeated, his gaze once more finding Madeline’s.

  Smiling at him rather shyly, Madeline nodded, her heart hammering in her chest as his dark eyes gazed into hers, not unlike they had the night before when…

  Clearing his throat, her husband took a step back, his gaze dropping from hers. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

  Before he could walk away though, his mother rushed forward and grabbed him by the arm. “Not so fast, my boy. Sean could use all the help he can get.” Pushing him toward Madeline, she ordered, “Dance with your wife. Show us how it’s done.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six − Only Mine

  Drawing in a deep breath, Derek stepped toward his wife.

  Carefully lifting her gaze, she looked at him, her cheeks slightly flushed and her breathing faster than he would have expected. Was it the exertion? Or was it…?

  Derek swallowed as he held out his hand to her. “May I have this dance?” His own voice sounded strange to him as though he were trapped in a dream. However, when his wife stepped forward and slid her hand into his, it was as though he woke up with a start.

  All his senses narrowed in on her. The warmth of her skin. The scent of lavender that rose from her raven-black tresses. The emerald glow in her eyes as they held his. The way her breathing hitched when he pulled her closer.

  How could anyone be so acutely aware of another? Derek wondered, feeling his insides tremble with excitement as he began to move in time to Kara’s soft humming.

  As he held his wife in his arms, the rest of the world fell away. He barely remembered a day spent on repairs, dreading the moment he would have to return home and see in her eyes that…

  What? What did he see in her eyes? Was she thinking of another? Wishing for another?

  Derek smiled. No, she was not. The way she was looking at him spoke of the same excitement he felt in his own veins, and in that moment, he barely remembered their audience and almost swept her up in his arms.

  “Doesn’t it look marvellous?” his sister gasped, her voice dream-like as she gazed at them.

  Sean seemed to disagree while Derek’s mother looked rather pleased with herself. Why? Derek wondered. Had she had an ulterior motive in asking him to dance with his wife? Indeed, she had not asked, had she?

  “Now us,” Kara exclaimed, dragging her reluctant husband back into the middle of the room while Derek and Madeline took their places next to his mother.

  As they stood side by side, watching Kara and Sean stumble and almost fall, Derek’s mind was focused on his wife. Whenever he moved from one foot onto the other, his hand would brush against hers, sending tingles up and down his arm. Her breath quickened then, and she would look at him out of the corner of her eye before a shiver would shake her frame.

  Fighting the impulse to pull her into his arms, Derek stood stock still like a stone column, convinced he had never experienced a worse kind of torture.

  “That was…encouraging,” his mother spoke, jarring him out of his thoughts, as she stepped toward Sean and Kara. “Now off to bed. Tomorrow will be another day.”

  As the others headed upstairs
, whispering quiet goodnights, Derek and Madeline remained where they were until they heard the last door close. Then Madeline turned to him, her eyes round as she smiled up at him. “Will you show me how to make a fire?”

  Derek swallowed, torn between his desire to accommodate her wishes and following his own. “Certainly,” he replied, his voice hoarse, and offered her his arm.

  Step by step, they made their way upstairs, each not saying a word, each keeping their eyes fixed on something ahead of them. When he opened the door to her bedchamber, her arm slipped from his, and Derek felt a wave of regret wash over him. How had he gone the whole day without her touch when he now seemed to crave it like air itself?

  Stepping toward the mantle, Madeline retrieved the small tinderbox, her brows drawing down into a frown. “How do I use these?” Opening the lid, she glanced up at him before returning her gaze to the small items within. “I believe these two things need to be struck together to create a spark, but…” Sighing, she shook her head, holding the box up to him.

  Taking the tinderbox from her hand, Derek drew in a slow breath as his fingers brushed over hers. “These are called the steel or strike-a-light and the flint,” he explained, showing her how to hold them. “However, you cannot let the spark fall on the logs directly. They will never catch fire this way. You need to use the tinder, a piece of scorched linen, as well as a brimstone match.”

  “Tinder? What’s that?” Stepping closer, her head only a hair’s breadth from his, she perused the small box in his hand.

  Derek swallowed, wondering if she, too, could feel the strange weight in the air tonight. “You place it in the tinderbox and let the spark fall on it. When it catches fire, you gently blow on it and then hold one of the matches in to ignite. This way you can transfer the flame to a candle or taper and then light the fire in the hearth. Then you quickly extinguish the tinder so that you’ll be able to use it again before it needs to be replaced.”

  Looking up, Madeline sighed. “That sounds fairly complicated.”

  “I admit it’s not easy,” Derek replied, seeing the doubt in her eyes. “Like many other things, it takes practice, but it can be learnt.” For a long moment, he held her gaze, a question resting in them that did not need words.

  After a while, his wife nodded, a soft smile curling up the corners of her lips, sending a jolt of excitement through Derek’s body. “Show me,” she whispered, and for a split second, Derek had no idea what she was referring to.

  Then he remembered the tinderbox in his hand and cleared his throat.

  As they stood by the small table in the corner, a candle at the ready, Derek instructed his wife how to conjure a spark. Although it only took her two strikes to draw some sparks, she had some trouble directing them onto the tinder. Annoyance began to colour her cheeks, and Derek could tell from the way her jaw clenched that she was getting disheartened.

  The moment he was about to whisper an encouragement, a spark landed on the scorched linen, igniting it in the blink of an eye. “I did it!” his wife exclaimed, dropping the steel and flint in her excitement.

  Derek smiled, lifting a calming hand. “Careful or the flame will extinguish. Now gently blow on it.”

  Leaning toward the tiny flame, his wife did as he instructed, her eyes growing wide with pride when the flame began to dance taller. “Now, the match, right?”

  Derek nodded, touched by her child-like excitement.

  Holding the match into the flame, Madeline smiled as it caught fire. Then she transferred it to the candle on the table before blowing out the flame. “Don’t we need to close the box?” she asked, looking at him with a cocked eyebrow.

  Snapping out of his trance, Derek blinked, then glanced down at the tinderbox in his hands where the strip of scorched linen continued to burn. Embarrassed, he snapped the lid closed before turning to his wife.

  With a puzzled expression on her face, she looked up at him. “So, I could have lit the fire with the candle I brought in that night, couldn’t I?” she asked, a touch of red coming to her cheeks. “That’s why you didn’t come to help me. It would have been so simple,” she said, taking the candle and kneeling down by the fireplace. Then she held the small flame to the kindling and waited until it caught on. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that.” Shaking her head, she rose to her feet and set the candle down on the mantle. Then she turned to look at him. “You must think me a fool.”

  Staring at her, Derek knew that that was exactly what she thought. “You’re not a fool,” he said, his voice steady as he stepped toward her. “People make mistakes. They overlook things, forget things. But that doesn’t make them fools.”

  Closing her eyes, Madeline shook her head, and Derek could see that his words had not convinced her. The doubts that lived in her heart were still there, whispering in her ear that she was not good enough. That she would never be good enough.

  Stepping forward, Derek gently grasped her chin and waited for her to look at him. When she did, he said, “I do admire you.”

  At his words, she all but flinched, her eyes widening in disbelief.

  As the flames began to dance from log to log, filling the room with a comfortable warmth, Derek held her gaze, willing her to see the truthfulness of his words. “We are all born into a world that becomes familiar to us. A world that we learn to live in. We learn its rules and conditions, and we acquire the skills we need to function in it.” Gently, he brushed the pad of his thumb over her chin, acutely aware of the closeness of their bodies. “You’ve been torn from yours and thrust into one quite unlike the one you grew up in. While children have a unique ability to adapt, people our age face far greater difficulties.” Leaning closer, he looked deep into her eyes, feeling her breath come out in small gasps. “You could’ve surrendered. You could’ve given up, but you haven’t. You’re still fighting to adapt, to find your place in this new world, and that demands respect.”

  A lone tear glistened in the corner of her eye, and she tried to pull her chin from his grasp and avert her head.

  Derek, however, would not allow her. “Naturally, you will make mistakes,” he whispered. “We all do. But that does not mean you’re a fool. Far from it. In truth, it is through our mistakes that we truly learn. If you see them as an opportunity to grow, they cannot harm you.”

  Taking a deep breath, Madeline held his gaze, her chin still in his grasp, quivering with the emotions that coursed through her. Then she moved her head, freeing herself from his hold.

  Derek swallowed, regretting the loss of her touch, hoping she would not withdraw.

  “Leaving my world,” she whispered, her glowing green eyes holding his, “terrified me. So much.” She swallowed. “That’s why I was so angry with you for…what happened.”

  Derek cleared his throat. “For me following you. For forcing your hand.”

  His wife nodded. “I had such a plan for my future, such a clear image, and then suddenly, it was gone and I…I felt so lost.” A tentative smile came to her lips. “But I no longer regret that day,” she whispered, and Derek’s heart stopped for the barest of seconds. “Although this life is different and…hard, it is a challenge, and I’m slowly coming to realise that…I need this. I want this.” Shrugging, she sighed. “My old life was comfortable, predictable, but I realise now that it would never have been enough. I think I’ve always wished for something else. I simply didn’t know what it was.”

  Derek drew in a slow breath, feeling his skin tingle as her words washed over him. “Do you intend to stay then?” he asked, realising that from the moment she had so unexpectedly shown up at Huntington House, he had feared he would wake up one morning and find her gone.

  Madeline swallowed, her hands trembling despite the warming fire beside them. “Do you want me to?”

  “I do,” Derek stated simply and honestly, his gaze locked on hers. “I’ve wanted you from the moment I first saw you. However, I feared that a woman like you could never care for a man like−”

  In an inst
ant, Madeline flung herself into his arms, her hands sliding up to cup his face before she pushed herself up against him, claiming his lips with her own.

  Crushing her in his arms, Derek responded to her kiss with the same passion, a fire burning in his veins, consuming him whole. For a long moment, he allowed himself only to feel, to enjoy the touch of her skin and the taste of her lips. However, much too soon, a nagging voice in the back of his mind, whispered one word−one single word−which felt as though a bucket of icy water had been dumped onto his head.

  Townsend.

  Shocked, Derek pulled back, staring at her wide-eyed, wishing with all his heart he could simply forget. Looking at her full lips, remembering how they had been moulded to his own only a moment before, he wanted nothing more but to pull her back into his arms. However, he could not shake the question of whether Townsend had tasted those same lips as well.

  “Is something wrong?” his wife asked, carefully stepping toward him, her gaze filled with confusion as well as a touch of concern.

  Derek drew in a deep breath, his gaze lingering on her beautiful face, and a smile touched his lips. He loved her. Heaven help him, but he loved her, and he realised in that moment that no matter what, he would not be able to stay away from her.

  Nevertheless, he had to know. For his own peace of mind.

  Swallowing the lump in his throat, Derek stepped forward and grasped her hands, holding them tightly in his own as he met her eyes. “There is something I need to ask you,” he said, feeling her hands tense and grow cold as she drew in an unsteady breath.

  Seeing the guilt on her face, Derek gritted his teeth, reminding himself that this was merely an obstacle he needed to overcome. It was not the end. And still, every fibre in his body ached with the agony of imagining his wife in that man’s arms.

  Drawing in another breath to steady his own nerves, Derek faced the truth and all the pain it would bring. “There is something I need to ask you,” he repeated, holding her gaze when she tried to look away, “and I need you to be truthful with me. I promise you no matter what your answer is I will not judge you for it. I won’t deny that it will…hurt…deeply, but I know that we were different people then. We hardly knew each other, and despite the vows we had taken, they felt…hollow because they were built on duty alone, and not on…a deeper emotion.”