He’d been too quick to judge Madeline, Rayne again admitted to himself. His suspicions about her relationship with Ackerby were likely unfounded.
Interrupting his musings just then, Will raised his glass in a toast. “I trust you will enjoy wedded bliss as I have, my friend.”
In reply, Rayne took a long swallow of port to finish off his glass. By his own design, wedded bliss was not in his future. But he expected to be fairly content with the bargain he and his new bride had made.
His sanguinity was short-lived, for when he arrived at his house on Bedford Avenue, Rayne found a terse note from his grandmother summoning him for a command appearance at the Haviland family mansion in Berkeley Square. His mouth curved sardonically as he read her missive. It should not have surprised him to learn Lady Haviland was in town, since her network of social spies was as efficient as his own international one had been.
Anticipating her disapproval of his marriage, Rayne was in no hurry to comply with his summons. Thus, he first took the time to change into evening attire in preparation for dining at Brooks’s Club afterward. When he did call upon his grandmother, he was required to cool his heels for a quarter of an hour before being admitted upstairs to her bedchamber.
Lady Haviland was lying in her bed in the darkened room, her eyes closed, a damp cloth pressed to her brow. Her color was good, however, with none of the paleness expected of an invalid, so Rayne was easily able to suppress his twinge of guilt. His grandmother’s heart always weakened considerably whenever she wanted leverage over him, as no doubt she did now.
When she finally deigned to open her eyes, he took her hand and carried it gently to his lips. “I regret you are feeling ill enough to take to your bed, Grandmother,” he murmured.
She appraised him with considerable disfavor, and her voice held the same condemnation when she responded. “You know very well that you caused this latest heart spell, my boy.”
“If you are suffering renewed palpitations, love, then you should not have made the journey from Brighton alone, particularly since I planned to come and fetch you at week’s end to convey you to Haviland Court.”
“I could not wait till week’s end to confirm the awful truth. How could you, Rayne? Marrying that little upstart? I will never be able to hold my head up among the ton again.”
With effort, Rayne refrained from replying as forcefully as he wanted. “I doubt my marriage will diminish your enormous consequence in the least, Grandmother.”
She snatched her hand from his grasp. “How little you know. But the humiliation I face is only a fraction of the reason I am so dismayed. When I met your Miss Ellis this afternoon, she was even worse that I imagined.”
“You called at Riverwood?”
“Certainly I called there. I had to see her for myself. She was unforgivably rude and impertinent.”
Rayne hid an amused grimace. That was one battle he would have enjoyed seeing. Although wishing he’d been there to spare Madeline the confrontation, he imagined she had held her own well enough, even against his indomitable grandmother. Yet it was precisely why he hadn’t told his family about his plans to wed beforehand, fearing they would subject Madeline to their censure.
“Why did you choose her, of all people?” Lady Haviland demanded.
He had a ready answer. “Because I realized that any of the simpering misses I’ve interviewed to date would drive me mad within a week of marriage.”
“You have clearly made a wretched mistake, Rayne. How well do you even know that woman?”
“Well enough. Her father was a good friend of mine.”
He wouldn’t reveal his obligations to David Ellis to his grandmother. He would prefer she think he’d chosen Madeline for her own sake rather than give his relative more ammunition to use against her.
“Madeline is a good match for me, Grandmother. I am proud to call her my wife, and I expect that one day you will be also. But even if not, I trust you will welcome her into the family.”
In response, Lady Haviland raised her hand to her forehead and pressed on the cloth adorning her brow, as if to remind him of her frail condition. “I simply cannot welcome her, Rayne. I doubt I can ever forgive you, either. The only thing I ever asked of you was to marry well, and now you have ruined everything.”
“I agreed to wed a genteel young lady so I could sire an heir, which is exactly what I have done. I have fulfilled my pledge to you, love.”
“You have done nothing of the kind!”
Rayne kept his gaze steady in the face of the dowager’s savage glare. “Have you forgotten why you wanted me to wed in the first place? Your concern was that the Haviland title and fortune not go to my Uncle Clarence.”
“Certainly that concerned me. Clarence is a gamester and a scapegrace, undeserving of the title. But that is not the sole reason I wished you to marry. I was worried for your future, Rayne. And now I worry for your children’s future. You may care little for the nobility of our family bloodline, but I don’t wish my great-grandchildren to be tainted by French blood.”
Rayne felt a muscle tighten in his jaw. “Your objection is duly noted, Grandmother, but I expect this to be the last I hear of it.”
“You do not care at all what I think?”
“Yes, I care. But we have had this discussion before. I agreed to follow your wishes up to a point, but you will not run my life, or dictate whom I will or will not marry.”
Her expression hardened even further. “I suppose I should have expected a disaster of this sort. You always were a stubborn rebel. To think that I was so elated when you promised to give up your wild adventures and settle down.”
Rayne didn’t intend to tell her that he was still pursuing some of the wild adventures she found so objectionable. Nor would he press her to accept Madeline just now. His grandmother needed a little time to adjust to her dashed expectations, and he would give it to her.
Lady Haviland, however, was not ready to abandon her aims, it seemed. Struggling to sit up in bed, she tossed the cloth aside and placed an imploring hand on his arm. “It is not too late for an annulment, Rayne. We can say that you belatedly came to your senses and realized your mistake.”
He eyed her narrowly, wondering if she meant to declare warfare on his new bride. If so, she would quickly have to revise her perspective.
“There will be no annulment, Grandmother,” he replied, his tone final. “You will just have to be satisfied with my choice.”
The flash of fury in her eyes was unmistakable. “I will never be satisfied,” she insisted.
“Then we will forever be at odds.”
Lady Haviland continued to regard him with extreme displeasure before removing her hand from his arm with a derisive sniff. “Until just this moment I never realized how heartless you are, Rayne. The gossips are already sharpening their spiteful tongues, but I will bear the brunt of their venom, not you.”
“You should pay the gossips no mind.”
Her look held scorn. “As if I could. The least you can do is refrain from formally proclaiming your marriage in the Morning Post and Chronicle. I have no desire to become an object of ridicule in stark black and white.”
He could agree to that, Rayne decided, since he didn’t want Madeline subjected to the savagery of intense public scrutiny. The quieter he kept his marriage, the easier it would be for her to find her bearings as his countess. “Very well, I won’t submit any announcements to the newspapers.”
His grandmother breathed a pained sigh. “Undoubtedly, word of your union has already spread. One cannot keep a scandal of this magnitude quiet for long.”
“It is hardly a scandal,” Rayne said dryly.
“It most certainly is,” she muttered in derision. “And you will likely be the death of me.”
He bowed respectfully. “That would be extremely unfortunate, love, but I have high hopes you will outlive all your grandchildren. And to help ensure it, I will summon all your various doctors to attend to you immediately.”
Rayne knew he had called her bluff, for she disliked being poked and prodded by her physicians. “As you wish, Grandmother.”
Aware that he hadn’t ended her objections to his marriage, though, he crossed to the door and let himself from the room, feeling her irate gaze boring into his back, as intense as any enemy surveillance.
Chapter Twelve
I have decided to take fate into my own hands, Maman.
To post her latest letter to Gerard, Madeline drove herself into Chiswick alone. After what had happened with her first correspondence, she didn’t want Rayne’s servants alerted to her attempt to contact her brother.
When she returned home to Riverwood, a note from Arabella was waiting for her, suggesting that they drive to London tomorrow and spend the day visiting her dressmaker and various other shops. She also suggested that Madeline make a list of items she needed.
The writing desk in the drawing room was out of paper, however, since she’d used the last sheets to write Arabella and Gerard. Not wishing to take Bramsley from his duties to fetch more paper for her, Madeline decided to search for it herself, starting in the most logical place—Rayne’s study.
Most of the drawers in his massive desk were locked, she discovered, but the lower left one was accessible. Inside, she found a thin sheaf of papers containing what looked to be a list of names, scrawled in a bold handwriting that she assumed was Rayne’s.
Madeline was about to return his papers to the drawer when an underlined name leapt out at her: Roslyn Loring. Curious, she let her gaze skim down the entire list. There were some three dozen female names in total, and Rayne had made notations beside each one.
It seemed to be a list of candidates he had considered for matrimony.
Startled by her deduction, Madeline perused all the pages in detail. Rayne had made three more columns to accompany the names. The first heading was “Feat.,” which she took to mean distinguishing physical features, including hair color—perhaps so he could remember the individual ladies or tell them apart.
The two other columns appeared to be descriptions of intelligence and personality and character. Under “Intelligence” he had assigned each lady a numerical rating 0 to 9. But under “Pers/Char” were words:
Lively. Timid. Charming. Talks too much. Dull. Deadly dull. At least half of the candidates were rated “dull” or some variation thereof, but there were also some even less flattering terms such as Simpers, Fawns, Vain, and Greedy.
A pang of jealousy struck Madeline when she saw that Roslyn Loring had received a 9 for intelligence and a description of “intriguing” for personality—clearly the highest rating for anyone on Rayne’s list. And yet, she noted, “beautiful” did not appear anywhere on the pages.
Madeline chewed her lower lip thoughtfully. If this was Rayne’s tally of the advantages and disadvantages of the bridal candidates he’d considered and rejected thus far, she supposed she could take heart, since he seemed to value brains and spirit over beauty.
“May I assist you, my lady?”
With a start Madeline looked up to find Bramsley standing in the study doorway, frowning at her in disapproval.
“I was searching for writing paper,” she explained hastily.
“Forgive me, my lady, I should have mentioned it before. Lord Haviland does not allow anyone to touch his desk. Indeed, I am the only staff permitted to enter his study.”
Feeling somewhat guilty, Madeline shoved Rayne’s lists back in the drawer and stood. “I am sorry. I wasn’t aware that his study was off limits to me. But of course I will respect his wishes.”
It wasn’t surprising that Rayne would be protective of his privacy since his entire profession had been built on secrets, but she felt very much like Bluebeard’s wife at being caught here, even though she had certainly not been snooping.
Bramsley pointedly interrupted her musings. “I will be happy to bring you the writing paper you require, my lady.”
“Thank you,” Madeline said rather meekly.
Preceding the majordomo from the study, she watched as he shut the door carefully behind them. Then, desiring to change the subject, she added casually, “I am planning a drive with Lady Danvers to London tomorrow to visit her dressmaker, if you need me to perform any errands for you while I am there.”
Bramsley stared at her a moment, making Madeline keenly aware that she had just committed a solecism.
She sent him a rueful smile. “I suppose my habits as a former companion are too ingrained. My offer is vastly out of place, isn’t it? Of course you have a large staff to call upon to run errands for you.”
His expression softened several degrees. “Indeed we do, my lady.”
“It will doubtless take me awhile to learn what is expected of me in my new position, so I hope you will bear with me.”
“Certainly, my lady,” the majordomo said with genuine warmth this time. “But if you mean to visit London … I should also have mentioned earlier, his lordship bade me instruct you on the financial arrangements he made on your behalf. Any bills you incur should be sent to his London residence, but he also established an allowance for smaller personal necessities. As for the estate, I generally manage the household accounts and landholdings, but he directed me to make the books available to you as well. If you wish, my lady, I will present them for your review when I bring the writing paper.”
Madeline felt strangely gratified; Rayne had remembered that she’d handled all the accounts of her family’s farm for years. “I should like that, Bramsley. Will you bring them to me in the drawing room?”
“As you wish, Lady Haviland.”
The majordomo bowed deferentially and then took himself off to fulfill her request. As Madeline made her way slowly back to the drawing room, however, the account books were not foremost on her mind. Rather, she was remembering Rayne’s list of marital prospects.
Her name had not appeared among the candidates, yet she couldn’t help wondering how he would rate her. She had worried that she couldn’t possibly compete with all the beauties who had thrown themselves at Rayne’s head, but perhaps her plainness was not such an enormous drawback after all.
Even so, she would be wise to improve her appearance and make herself more attractive to him if possible. A new wardrobe would help, but more drastic action was obviously needed.
Besides, she’d had enough of wallowing in self-pity, Madeline decided. She would not be a helpless victim of circumstances, passively bemoaning her fate. She might have foolishly fallen in love with Rayne, but since she couldn’t change her feelings for him, her best course was to try and change his feelings for her—or at least make him want her enough to share her bed for more than mere conjugal duty.
Madeline frowned in thought. A good soldier’s daughter would marshal her defenses and call in reinforcements, but whom could she rely upon? She’d never had sisters or close women friends to discuss female matters with, and her conversations with her late mother were strictly one-sided. Therefore, she was at a severe loss in dealing with a husband who wanted her only for the children she could give him.
Yet Arabella had agreed to help her shop for clothing. Now Madeline wondered if she should also ask her neighbor for advice on how to appeal to a man of Rayne’s stamp. She would never be as captivating as Roslyn Loring in his eyes, of course, but perhaps with assistance, she might become enticing enough to keep him in her bed.
And she did have the advantage of being married to Rayne, after all, Madeline reflected, setting her jaw with determination. Even if she wasn’t able to inspire his passion at present, she would have opportunities to rouse his desire that none of his other bridal candidates had had.
Madeline gave serious consideration to developing a new strategy for her marriage so that by the time Arabella called for h
er the next morning as arranged, she was prepared to swallow her pride and ask for her neighbor’s help in a much more intimate arena than fashion.
Arabella’s first words, however, gave her pause.
“I am more than happy to advise you on purchasing new gowns, but my sister Roslyn has a better eye for styles and colors than I do. I hope you don’t mind that I took the liberty of inviting her to accompany us this morning.”
Madeline was a little taken aback. She was coming to know Arabella fairly well, whereas Roslyn was nearly a stranger. Yet she could hardly protest her employer’s generosity.
“I hate to impose on her grace,” she settled on saying.
“It is no imposition, truly. Roslyn is eager to help you. And in a way, she will be fulfilling her pledge to Haviland. We attempted to find him a suitable bride, but since he made an unexpected match on his own, it is only fitting that we endeavor to make your introduction to society successful.”
“Well, if you are certain she won’t mind …”
“I am certain,” Arabella assured her. “The ton will be agog to see Haviland’s new countess, and as a duchess, Roslyn can foster your acceptance even better than I can. As for me,” she added with a smile, “I want to smooth your path for my own selfish reasons. I’m exceedingly grateful that you plan to continue teaching at the academy, Madeline. Not only have you spared me the trouble of searching for your replacement, our pupils adore you and would be heartbroken if you had to resign simply because you married a nobleman.”
At the praise, Madeline felt her cheeks flush. “It has been a pleasure to teach them.”
“I hope it will continue to be so for a long time to come. But I collect you would rather discuss our shopping expedition just now.” Arabella’s glance took in Madeline’s outdated pelisse. “Do you have a sum in mind for how much you wish to spend on a new wardrobe?”
To Tame a Dangerous Lord Page 21
