Madeline’s relief was so great that she almost didn’t mind when he turned his attention again to charming the widow.
The three of them took supper together, but when Rayne expressed their intentions of leaving the soirée directly afterward, the widow looked extremely disappointed. “Must you leave so soon, milord?”
“I’m afraid so. Since Miss Ellis has a school lesson to conduct on the morrow, I must return her to Chiswick tonight, and we have a lengthy drive ahead of us.”
Mrs. Sauville shot a look of vexation at Madeline before smiling at the earl once more. “I hope that you will call upon me anytime you wish, Lord Haviland. You would be very welcome.”
With a bow, Rayne pressed a kiss to the widow’s proffered hand. “Thank you, madame. I look forward to it.”
So saying, he took Madeline’s arm and steered her toward the salon door and out to his waiting carriage.
Madeline waited to speak until Rayne was settled in the opposite seat. “I gather you found the letters?”
“Yes, but it took me longer than expected,” he answered as the coach pulled away from the house. “They were indeed locked in her jewel case, which was hidden among her lingerie.” Madeline thought his expression looked approving as he surveyed her in the dim glow of the interior carriage lamp. “You did extremely well keeping the widow occupied while I conducted my search.”
She flushed at his praise. “I am just relieved it is over. I fear I’m not cut out for spying. My nerves were rioting the entire time you were gone.”
She saw Rayne smile. “I had every confidence in you, love.”
“Now that is a falsehood if I ever heard one,” Madeline responded with good humor. “You never believed that I could help you. You didn’t even want me to accompany you tonight.”
“True, but I didn’t doubt your courage. I worried for you, which is not the same thing as doubt.”
She couldn’t help her own smile. “I would like to see Madame Sauville’s face when she discovers the exchange.”
Rayne’s tone turned dry. “Trust me, you don’t want to be within range of her rage when she does. She would likely try to claw your eyes out.”
“I expect you are right.”
“Now let us hope we retrieved them all,” he said, drawing the curtains across the coach windows to afford them privacy from the London streets.
Madeline watched as Rayne shrugged out of his coat and carefully removed the letters concealed in the lining, then examined each one briefly.
“Freddie will have to read these himself, but from his account, I believe this is the entire lot.”
Bending, Rayne opened the large leather satchel at his feet. After safely tucking the batch of letters inside, he pulled out Madeline’s brown cloak, which Walters had packed away earlier.
“You will want to remove your evening attire before we arrive home.”
Madeline was strangely reluctant for the night to be over, and even more reluctant to exchange the lovely silver shawl and matching accessories for her own drab cloak. And yet she didn’t want to return to Danvers Hall wearing Rayne’s plumed bandeau and hair combs, either.
When she reached up to remove the bandeau, however, she had difficulty finding the hairpins that held the headdress in place.
Seeing her struggle, Rayne said casually, “Come sit beside me, love, so that I may help make you presentable.”
She hesitated a moment, then obeyed.
“I confess relief that you haven’t taken to wearing caps yet,” he murmured as his fingers searched for the pins. “Your hair is too lovely to keep it covered.”
Madeline shifted uneasily in her seat, certain he was offering her false flattery again. The mention of caps made her uncomfortable as well. She hadn’t yet resorted to donning the lace caps that signified spinsterhood, since it would be too final an admission of her passing years and her waning hopes for love and marriage.
Thankfully, Rayne dropped the subject and worked in silence. Madeline was keenly aware of his gentle touch, though. Stiffening her spine, she braced herself against the beguiling effect, but her task was made more difficult by the rocking of the coach.
It was several minutes before he removed the bandeau and combs from her hair and pronounced her fit to be seen by the Danvers staff.
“You will do,” Rayne said, surveying her.
“Thank you,” Madeline murmured, easing away from him.
He smiled slightly, as if understanding the reason for her defensiveness. “We aren’t quite finished, love. Let me take your shawl.”
When she held out her arms, he lifted the garment from around her shoulders and tucked it inside the satchel along with the combs and bandeau.
Without the added layer of fabric, Madeline was hard-pressed to explain why she was suddenly overly warm. No doubt it was Rayne’s close proximity that affected her temperature so profoundly, along with the contemplative way he was looking at her.
When she started to return to her own seat, however, he stopped her by lightly touching her arm. “You still have the letter pouch attached to your garter, remember?”
“I can manage to remove it on my own,” she said in a breathless voice.
“A pity,” was his mild reply.
Reaching down, Madeline fumbled beneath her skirts for the clip that hooked to her stocking garter. Retrieving the pouch, she slipped it into the satchel and smoothed her gown down again. But even then Rayne would not let her return to her former seat.
Instead, he drew her back against the squabs and made her look at him.
Madeline caught her breath, wondering if he had decided to take advantage of their enforced intimacy to spur her surrender, and if he would use his potent masculine appeal and devastating charm to do it.
Her suspicion was confirmed with his next words.
“We still are not finished, sweetheart,” Rayne murmured. “I want to show you why you should give my marriage proposal serious consideration.”
Weakly, Madeline shook her head. “I already agreed to give it serious consideration.”
“But I doubt you truly meant it.”
He lifted his hand to run a finger over her lips in a sensual caress, sending a spark of heat rippling through her. Then he leaned toward her, until he was so close she could feel the warmth of his breath.
The air was abruptly charged with electric currents as Madeline comprehended that he meant to kiss her. She tried to steady her racing heartbeat and pull back from him, yet she couldn’t seem to move as he lowered his head the final distance.
Without haste, he licked her bottom lip, making her open for him. Then he slid his tongue inside, a hot, leisurely stroke that stole her willpower even further. His mouth moving slowly over hers, he kissed her with lingering thoroughness—until she finally found the strength to press her hands against his chest.
“I know what you are about,” she complained in a shaky voice. “You are bent on lowering my defenses.”
He flashed her an easy smile, the one that was so effective at winning female hearts. “Certainly I am. And I give you fair warning, lovely Madeline. I am not a man to give up easily.”
She most definitely did not need any warning. She already knew how dangerous Rayne was. Dear heaven, he was lethal with his beautiful face so close to hers, with his seductive mouth a mere breath away. His nearness was even more hazardous with her body still vibrating with aftershocks from his kisses and her traitorous senses urging her to give in.
Yet she made another effort to foil his intentions. “I thought you were a white knight who put great store in chivalry. It is not the least chivalrous of you to try to seduce me.”
“Ah, but I have your best interests at heart, darling. I intend to bring out all that hidden passion you have inside you.”
Madeline swallowed. “What hidden passion?”
“You know very well what I mean. The hunger you feel is bursting to be free just now. It’s only to be expected, since danger can be an aphrodisiac.”<
br />
It was true, Madeline conceded. His potent kisses combined with the excitement of the evening had set her body humming with desire for him. She was aware of the giddy welling of her senses, even before Rayne dazzled her with another lazy smile. “Let me give you a taste of the passion you will know as my wife, love.”
She was not his love. It was merely a figure of speech … his attempt at manipulating her into submission before devastating her defenses. But the seductive way Rayne was looking at her made her heart pound harder. And there was no denying that she wanted him to kiss her again—fervently.
When he obliged her unspoken desire, Madeline froze, bracing herself for the impact as his lips moved to take hers. To her dismay, this caress was even more powerful than the last. His mouth claimed hers forcefully this time—bold, hot, devouring.
Her breath seized as his tender assault went on endlessly while her blood heated. She had no notion of time until she felt the glide of his fingertips along her inner thigh….
What scant breath Madeline had left strangled in her throat when she realized Rayne had lifted the hems of her gown and her shift beneath.
Dragging herself up from the spellbinding daze, Madeline grasped his hand to stay it and pulled her mouth away from his.
“What are you doing?” she gasped.
His gaze locked with hers. “I mean to take up where we left off the night of the ball, Madeline. I have much more to show you about pleasure.”
The provocative promise in his tone combined with the dark glimmer of desire in his eyes rendered Madeline’s protest stillborn.
Nor could she make a sound when Rayne left his seat to kneel before her and draw down her garters and stockings. It was unbelievable that she would allow him to take such liberties, yet she didn’t stop him when he bent down to her and kissed the sensitive bare skin at the inside of her right knee, or when his lips moved further upward, caressing every exposed inch along the way.
He paused in his journey to soothe the mark the clip had made on her inner thigh, nibbling softly, stroking tenderly with his tongue. At the erotic gesture, Madeline groaned, a faint, hoarse rasp, but Rayne never ceased his purposeful ministrations. It was outrageous, scandalous, wanton, what he was doing, yet she fell back against the seat cushions, feeling too faint to resist.
When he pushed her skirts all the way to her waist, baring all her feminine secrets, her thighs opened involuntarily.
Rayne murmured a husky sound of approval as he bent down to her and breathed in the scent of her desire.
Then, as if he knew her own body better than she did, he unerringly found her most sensitive feminine flesh hidden beneath the dark curls at her woman’s mound and began to tease her with slow, delicate laps of his tongue.
The shock of it made Madeline go rigid. With a gasping moan, she gripped his raven hair with clutching fingers, yet she didn’t know if she wanted to push Rayne away or hold his magical mouth in place.
To her regret, he took the choice from her by drawing back enough to command in a husky whisper, “Be still, love. Let me enjoy pleasuring you.”
Trembling, Madeline obeyed. She sank back even farther when he went on flicking light brushstrokes over and over the taut nub of her sex in time with the rhythmic rocking of the coach. And when he delved deeper into her intimate folds with his tongue, she gave a soft cry at the incredible heat he was arousing inside her. The bright flare of sensation that had begun low at her core was swelling to a burning need throughout her whole body.
Urging her on, Rayne parted her thighs even wider and filled his hands with her bare buttocks. Then lifting her to gain better access, he increased his searing caresses, laving her with the flat of his tongue, gently abrading, then soothing her with kisses from his warm, wet lips.
Madeline was almost sobbing by now as she arched helplessly beneath him, straining against the wicked mouth possessing her, yearning for Rayne to assuage the fierce ache inside her. The need built and built … until finally erupting in an explosion that flooded her with shuddering heat and rocked her entire body.
The stunning force left Madeline’s breath rasping in harsh gasps and her limbs trembling with a wonderful aching weakness.
Without speaking, Rayne replaced her stockings and drew her gown down to cover her naked thighs, then resumed his seat as casually as before, as if he hadn’t just given her the most shattering pleasure she had ever known in her life.
For a long moment, Madeline lay sprawled there on the seat, boneless, languid, frightened at the intensity of her response to him. Yet she knew he was watching her as he brushed a strand of her hair away from her damp temple.
“Don’t you have anything to say?” Rayne asked, his tone both curious and tender.
She squeezed her eyes shut and moaned in dismay.
“Is there a problem, sweeting?”
Yes, indeed. Yet again he had made her abandon all her good sense.
“I think you are my problem,” she rasped as she struggled to sit up.
His smile was infinitely sensual. “And at the moment, you are mine. I want you badly, Madeline.”
“You just want to have your way.”
“That, too. But you have a powerful effect on me.” He caught her hand and brought it down to cover the front of his breeches, over his bulging groin. “It is remarkable how aroused I become by merely kissing you. And hearing your cries of pleasure only compounds my ache.”
The knowledge that she had aroused him so thoroughly both thrilled and alarmed her.
Drawing her trembling hand away, Madeline strove to keep her voice even. “What is remarkable is how you refuse to listen to me. I have no desire to marry you.”
“Regardless of your desire, I think you have just compromised me far beyond what is proper, so you might as well accept my proposal.”
“I… compromised you?” She gave a strangled laugh. “I won’t be coerced, Lord Haviland.”
“Of course not.” Placing a finger under her chin, Rayne made her look at him as he fixed her with that brilliant blue gaze. “But I intend to claim you for my wife, sweetheart. So you might as well give in gracefully and spare us the trouble of a lengthy courtship.”
She shivered. Rayne was a man who pursued what he wanted, and in this case, he wanted her. But that didn’t mean she had to oblige him.
As if reading her mind, he shook his head. “You are not allowed to refuse me just yet. I upheld my end of our bargain by letting you accompany me tonight, so you owe me at least a week to consider your answer.”
Madeline paused for a long moment, wondering how on earth she would be able to resist him for so long. But really, it was only fair that she fulfill her side of their bargain. “Very well, one week.”
Her answer would still be no, however, Madeline vowed shakily, even if her refusal filled her with regret and sadness. She was too emotionally vulnerable to Rayne. If they wed, she would surely lose her heart to him and he would never reciprocate.
Not looking at him, Madeline snatched up her cloak from the seat beside her. And since her only safety lay in putting a great distance between them, she moved across the coach to the far corner of the opposite seat.
“I’ll thank you to keep on your side, Lord Haviland,” she muttered as she struggled to don her cloak.
“As you wish, love,” he said easily. “I am satisfied that I made my point tonight.”
He had indeed made his point, Madeline reflected in dismay. Now that she’d had a taste of the excitement and passion Rayne could give her, she only wanted more.
And despite her determination to keep far, far away from him from now on, as she finished fastening the hooks of her drab cloak and prepared to resume her normal dull life, she had the sinking conviction that after tonight, she would never, ever be the same again.
Chapter Eight
It is the height of irony, Maman, to have two noblemen fight a duel over me—a plain, penniless spinster. I can scarcely credit it.
Madeline failed m
iserably in her attempt to forget the intimate interlude in Rayne’s carriage, in part because she had no early duties at the academy Wednesday morning and thus faced several hours to herself, alone with her chaotic thoughts.
To banish her unwanted memories—and to expend some of her fitful energy—Madeline escaped to the formal gardens at the rear of the manor, where she proceeded to cut fresh flowers for half the rooms in Danvers Hall.
She was not quite finished with her task when Freddie Lunsford hailed her as he strolled down the gravel path toward her.
“A very good morning to you, Miss Ellis,” Freddie said cheerfully. “Simpkin told me I could find you here.”
Dropping her gardening sheers into the flower-filled basket at her feet, Madeline turned to greet him with a smile as she drew off her gloves. “Good morning to you also, Mr. Lunsford.”
“I called early in hopes of catching you before your class begins.”
“My class is actually not scheduled until later this morning. My pupils and I plan to take luncheon together so we can pretend we are dining at a Paris hotel.”
“I see. In any event, I wished to give you this.”
Accepting the paper he offered, Madeline realized that Freddie had given her a bank draft, but her eyes widened at the large sum. One hundred pounds was twice the yearly salary she had earned as companion to Lady Talwin.
“It is the reward I promised you,” he explained when she raised her surprised gaze to his.
“But I told you, I do not want a reward.”
“I insist, Miss Blanchard. You helped save me from utter disaster, and I must show you proper gratitude.”
“Your thanks is gratitude enough,” Madeline began, trying to return the draft to him. But Freddie stepped back, holding up his hands with a grin.
“Rayne warned me you would likely refuse, but he agrees that you earned it. I am to hound you until you accept it, and to summon him if I need reinforcements.”
Realizing that she was outnumbered, Madeline graciously acknowledged her defeat with a laugh. “Very well, then, thank you. I will send this to my brother since he could use the funds just now.”
To Tame a Dangerous Lord Page 13
