To Tame a Dangerous Lord

by Nicole Jordan

  “So could you, I’ll warrant,” Freddie stated in his usual tactless fashion, his gaze raking her nondescript gray morning gown and black spencer. “You should buy yourself a nice dress or two, Miss Ellis.”

  Madeline felt her face flush at his evident condemnation of her wardrobe, but rather than argue, she slipped the draft into her skirt pocket and changed the subject.

  “So, has Mrs. Sauville’s attempt at blackmail completely ended?”

  Freddie grimaced. “Lord, I hope so … or at least I trust it will all be over in a few days. I mean to write her this morning, telling her I won’t pay her extortionist demands and that she ought to reread those letters of mine.” He grinned again. “She will be in for a rude shock when she discovers that her leverage over me has mysteriously disappeared.”

  “I expect so,” Madeline agreed, smiling back.

  “And now, I will take my leave of you, Miss Ellis. There is an enormous breakfast awaiting me back at Riverwood, and Rayne would not permit me to eat until I had called on you. I vow, I am famished. I have scarcely been able to swallow a bite this entire week past—Oh, would you care to join us, Miss Ellis?” Freddie asked, interrupting his own soliloquy.

  Wanting urgently to avoid facing Rayne at the moment, Madeline hastened to decline. “Thank you, but I have already breakfasted.”

  “Very well, then…. But if I may ever repay the favor you did for me, you have only to ask.”

  “I will, Mr. Lunsford,” she assured him, although she couldn’t imagine ever needing to be rescued from a blackmailer.

  With a gallant bow, Freddie doffed his hat to her, then spun jauntily and took himself off. He was whistling loudly when he disappeared from her view.

  Still smiling to herself, Madeline returned to her gardening. Yet she was surprised when a short while later, Simpkin appeared to inform her that she had another caller, this time a Lord Ackerby, and was she “at home” to him?

  Madeline felt her stomach clench at the mention of her noble nemesis and former neighbor.

  Before she could reply that she most certainly was not at home, she saw the auburn-haired baron himself striding down the garden path. Even from a distance she recognized Ackerby’s tall, well-dressed form by his imperious bearing. Evidently he hadn’t trusted that she would receive him and so decided to give her no choice by following the butler to her location in the garden.

  The elderly Simpkin frowned at this deliberate violation of proper etiquette, but Madeline hid her own grimace of distaste. “Thank you, Simpkin. I will speak to his lordship alone.”

  “As you wish, Miss Ellis.”

  Wondering what had brought her unwanted visitor here, Madeline waited until the butler had gone before asking Ackerby that very question.

  “Why you, of course, my dear,” he responded in an easy tone. “Imagine my surprise to discover that you had landed here. You are like a cat with nine lives.”

  She regarded him with an arch look. “Did you drive all the way from Chelmsford to discuss cats, my lord?”

  “No, I came from London, where I have been staying these past several days.” Ackerby glanced around at the luxurious terraced gardens. “Haviland has set you up in fine style, I see.”

  Madeline stiffened at the offensive insinuation that she’d become Rayne’s mistress. “You are greatly mistaken, sir—and you insult Lord Haviland by impugning him with your own lecherous motives. He is merely a friend of my late father and so did me a kindness by helping me find employment here in Chiswick at a young ladies’ academy owned by Lady Danvers.”

  Ackerby raised a dubious eyebrow. “Indeed? That relieves my mind then,” he drawled as if disbelieving her.

  She longed to wipe that smirk off his dissipated face. “The state of your mind matters little to me, Lord Ackerby.”

  He held up a hand as if to ward off another tart retort. “I don’t wish to quarrel with you, my dear.”

  Madeline pressed her lips together, striving to keep her temper. “Then what do you want?”

  “Restitution, merely that.”

  “Restitution?” she echoed. “Whatever do you mean?

  “Your brother is a thief and a scoundrel, Madeline. He stole a precious heirloom from me, and I want it back at once.”

  “I beg your pardon?” she said, staring. Gerard could be a scamp at times, playing pranks on friends and foes alike, but there was no real harm in him. And he most certainly would not steal so valuable an object from their wealthy neighbor.

  And yet when she searched the baron’s face, hoping to find some sign that he was jesting, his expression remained entirely serious.

  “I trust you will explain your absurd accusation,” she said finally.

  “There is nothing absurd about it. Your brother left town last week shortly before you did. It wasn’t until the day after I saw you at the inn that I discovered the de Vasse Necklace missing.”

  Madeline had heard of the priceless diamond and ruby necklace, which had formerly belonged to the Vicomte and Vicomtesse de Vasse, the parents of Gerard’s new bride, Lynette.

  “Whatever gave you the idea Gerard stole it?”

  “One of his accomplices confessed,” Ackerby replied. “Upon realizing the jewels were gone, I naturally questioned all of my servants. Under duress, a chambermaid revealed that your brother had seduced her to gain access to my home so that he might locate my safe and break the lock to steal the necklace.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Madeline declared flatly. Gerard was madly in love with Lynette. He would be the last person to dally with a serving maid.

  “You should. Where can I find your brother?”

  Madeline refused to answer. She could have told the baron that Gerard had eloped to Scotland with his sweetheart, but it was not common knowledge yet, and she intended to keep her sibling’s secret as long as he needed her to. “I am not certain where he is at just this moment.”

  Which was mostly true. Upon returning from Scotland, Gerard and Lynette had planned to take refuge in Kent at the cottage of one of her French cousins, where they were to write Lynette’s parents and present them with a fait accompli. But Madeline did not know for a fact that the newlyweds had arrived there. And even if she had known, she wouldn’t reveal their location to Baron Ackerby so that he could pursue them there.

  “Then I suggest you find him,” Ackerby said tersely, watching her face to judge her truthfulness. “It will go harder for Ellis if he puts me to the trouble of searching for him.” He paused. “If he returns the jewels to me immediately, however, I might consent to be lenient. He will only face prison instead of hanging.”

  Dismay filled Madeline as she considered the baron’s threat. Was it possible he was right? That Gerard had actually taken the necklace and then gone into hiding to escape the nobleman’s retribution? The jewels were worth a fortune, but Gerard might have wanted them more for their sentimental value, since they’d originally been stolen from the Vicomte and Vicomtesse when they fled the French Revolution to avoid losing their heads.

  Madeline shivered. Such chivalry sounded precisely like something her quixotic brother would champion. In Gerard’s mind, justice could seem a good reason to purloin the necklace and return it to the true owners’ family.

  Determined to present a loyal front, however, she manufactured a scoffing sound as she gazed scornfully at Ackerby. “You have no real proof of his guilt, my lord. Only a chambermaid’s claim, which you yourself said was obtained under duress.”

  “I will have all the proof I need when I find the necklace in your brother’s possession. I promise you I will search tirelessly for Ellis, and when I locate him, he will hang for his crime.”

  Dismay turned to fear inside Madeline at the thought of her brother hanging. If Gerard did have the necklace, he had to return it, no matter how noble his motives might have been in taking it. Which meant she would have to find him before the baron did and convince him of the madness of his actions—

  Madeline winced inwardl
y, realizing that she was no longer adamantly refuting the baron’s allegations. Ackerby might be a libertine, but he would not have come all this way to make baseless charges. The unyielding conviction in his expression, too, lent credence to his claim and sent chills through Madeline.

  As she silently debated how to respond, a sly look crept over the baron’s features. “I’ll wager you would not care to have your new friends”—he waved a hand toward the Hall—“learn that your brother is a common criminal. It will not reflect well on you, Madeline, and might even cost you your teaching position.”

  “And I suppose you mean to tell them?” she asked warily.

  “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  “Your selflessness. Are you willing to sacrifice for your brother’s sake?”

  “You are speaking in riddles, Lord Ackerby,” Madeline retorted, tired of his evasion.

  “Then let me be more plain. I would be willing to overlook your brother’s crime in exchange for … certain concessions on your part.”

  She knew exactly what concessions he meant. Madeline’s hackles rose as she comprehended Ackerby’s real purpose in hunting her down here at Danvers Hall. He was still bent on having her in his bed! Even more certain, he was determined to conquer her, to bend her to his will in retaliation for her continued rejection of him—and this time he had leverage over her.

  Her teeth clenched. She now knew how Freddie had felt at being blackmailed by an unscrupulous widow. Ackerby knew very well she would never let Gerard hang. But neither would she simply bow to his extortion. “I have told you before, I will not become your mistress.”

  “Not even to save your brother?”

  “You cannot be certain that he is even guilty!”

  “Oh, he is guilty. And I will eventually prove it. Meanwhile, you don’t want me to alert your new employer to your brother’s misdeeds.”

  “Pray, go ahead and do your worst,” she bluffed.

  Ackerby pressed his lips together, obviously displeased with their standoff. As his complexion reddened with growing anger, Madeline decided that perhaps she was mishandling the situation. Even if Gerard was completely innocent, Ackerby could harm her reputation by making his accusations public. She had no desire to lose her new position at the academy because her family was tainted by scandal.

  Nor did she want Rayne to discover that Gerard might be a thief. Rayne could understand—and even condone—filching a loaf of bread in order to survive the cruel ravages of starvation, but he would never countenance stealing a valuable heirloom.

  In any case, she needed to buy time with Baron Ackerby to prevent him from going directly to the authorities. Then she had to make certain Gerard truly was guilty. If so, she would have to knock some sense into her brother’s witless head and make him return the stolen property before he was found with it and arrested.

  Unlocking her clenched jaw, Madeline forced herself to adopt a more conciliatory tone. “There is no reason to share your suspicions with anyone here in Chiswick, my lord. You could be mistaken about Gerard, and if so, making false accusations would reflect poorly on you. And if my brother does indeed have the necklace, I promise you, I will persuade him to return it.”

  “I am afraid that is not good enough.”

  The gleam in Ackerby’s eyes told her clearly that he was enjoying making her squirm. Surprisingly, then, he seemed to back down. “Perhaps we can reach a compromise, my dear.”

  “What sort of compromise?” she asked warily.

  “I will settle for a kiss.”

  Renewed anger and indignation streaked through Madeline at his gall. Ackerby was taking advantage of her vulnerability again, just as he’d done barely a month after her elderly employer’s passing when he’d made his shameless proposition that she become his mistress.

  Her gaze dropping to his lips, Madeline shuddered at the thought of kissing the lecherous baron. When he took a step toward her, she tensed, reminding herself that her gardening shears were at hand if she needed to defend herself.

  And yet he had her at a severe disadvantage and they both very well knew it.

  “Let me see if I understand you correctly,” she said, striving to hide her disgust. “If I kiss you now, then you will allow me time to speak with my brother and persuade him to return the necklace to you—presuming he even has it? And in the meantime you will say nothing to anyone about the missing necklace or Gerard’s possible role in its disappearance?”

  “Yes. It will be our little secret. Do we have a bargain?”

  She wasn’t sure she could bring herself to say yes, no matter how much she loved her brother. Madeline muttered a silent oath as she stood there feeling trapped. She intended to save Gerard from his own folly, but when she found her incorrigible brother, she would throttle him for putting her in this untenable position.

  At her hesitation, however, the baron closed the distance between them and grasped her shoulders, evidently taking her silence as acquiescence. Madeline barely had time to raise her hands between them before he bent his head to claim her lips.

  His kiss was every bit as repugnant as she anticipated. Then Ackerby made it worse by thrusting his tongue forcefully inside her mouth. Madeline tried not to gag as she pushed her hands against his chest in an effort to make him release her, but his left arm wrapped around her waist to embrace her and draw her even closer.

  When his right hand shifted from her shoulder to grope her breast, though, Madeline had had enough. Utterly repulsed, she gave a muted cry of protest as she struggled to shove him away.

  At the same instant, she heard a fierce masculine growl that sounded like a curse. To Madeline’s startlement, the baron suddenly freed her, making her stumble backward. By the time she regained her balance, she realized that Rayne had grabbed Ackerby by his coat collar and hauled him away from her.

  Before she could utter a word, Rayne spun the other man around and drew back his fist, contacting the baron’s jowl with a powerful blow that sent him flying to the ground with a decided thud.

  Madeline was alarmed to glimpse the fury on Rayne’s face before he lunged after the fallen man, clearly set on dragging Ackerby to his feet so he could pummel him again.

  With another, more vocal cry this time, Madeline grasped Rayne’s arm and held on for dear life.

  “Stop, please—don’t hit him again!” she exclaimed breathlessly, trying to keep the two of them separated.

  “Why not?”

  “You might kill him.”

  “That is precisely my intention.”

  Looking deadly, he advanced another step, despite Madeline’s effort at restraining him.

  “Please, Rayne,” she repeated more urgently.

  She was very glad he’d interrupted that revolting kiss. But while it touched her to have his protective fury aroused on her behalf, she could not very well explain why Ackerby had been kissing her, not without revealing her brother’s likely criminal misdeeds, which she was loath to do. Besides, Rayne might be even more enraged if he learned of Ackerby’s attempt to blackmail her into becoming his mistress. While it would give her satisfaction to see the baron punished for his humiliating insults, he didn’t deserve to die for them.

  Ackerby, however, was clearly enraged by the affront to his person. He lay sprawled there amid the rosebushes, holding his bruised jaw and glaring up at Rayne, the picture of wrath.

  “How dare you strike me, you … you … cretin. I demand an apology at once!”

  “You will have a long wait,” Rayne gritted out. “You owe Miss Ellis an apology for mauling her.”

  “The devil I do!” Ackerby began before Rayne cut him off.

  “You will beg her pardon or name your seconds.”

  “Then I will name my seconds,” he snapped.

  “Pistols or swords?”

  “Pistols. It will be my pleasure to put a bullet through you.”

  “It will be my pleasure to teach you a lesson in appropriate behavior toward women.”
>
  Madeline felt her jaw drop as she stood there, rendered speechless with shock. Rayne had just challenged the baron to a duel and the baron had accepted!

  “No!” she exclaimed in a high, weak voice. But neither nobleman was listening to her.

  “Tomorrow at dawn?” Rayne demanded.

  “Agreed,” Ackerby snarled back.

  “Here or London?”

  “London. It will inconvenience me less. We can meet at the usual location.”

  Rayne gave a brusque nod. “My second will call upon yours to finalize the particulars about weapons and such.”

  The baron hesitated then, as if suddenly realizing what he had gotten himself into.

  Madeline glanced up at Rayne, who still looked deadly as he stared down at his opponent. The baron must have thought so too, but he couldn’t back down without losing face.

  “Very well,” Ackerby muttered as he struggled to his feet. “My home in London is located at Number Seven Portman Square.”

  He was evidently having second thoughts, Madeline conjectured, but he was too irate or too proud to withdraw his acceptance.

  She was not too proud to ask him to reconsider, though. She had to calm Ackerby’s fury so that he wouldn’t act against her brother before she could convince him to return the priceless necklace.

  “Lord Ackerby,” she said in a pleading tone. “I am exceedingly sorry about this misunderstanding, but surely you don’t wish to fight a duel?”

  The baron merely gave her a savage glance as he brushed the dirt off the back of his coat. “Good day to you, Miss Ellis. You will hear from me when this is over, I assure you.”

  Without another word, he snatched up his hat that had tumbled into the flower bed and then stalked off.

  Utterly dismayed, Madeline stared after him until he was out of sight before turning on Rayne to voice her distress. “What the devil do you mean, calling him out? Are you mad?”

  “Not in the least. It’s time someone taught that lecher manners.” A muscle in Rayne’s jaw clenched. “I suspected the worst when Freddie told me he saw Ackerby arrive here at the Hall, so I came at once. It was fortunate that I did.”