Even so, Rayne kept a lookout for his grandmother’s carriage as he galloped the road toward Riverwood, while self-recriminations went around and around in his head.
He’d accused Madeline of adultery and lies, yet the real deception had been on his part—for convincing himself he wanted nothing more than a marriage of convenience with her.
The truth was staring him in the face, though.
He loved Madeline. Loved her deeply.
The power of his new emotions really was not so shocking when he considered it, Rayne realized. He had locked the door on his feelings for so long, he hadn’t even recognized them when they appeared. But his love had been growing from the first moment of meeting her.
His blindness also made perfect sense. In his fierce determination to protect himself, he’d banished tender sentiments like love from his life, keeping his heart frozen by design. But love had little to do with logic. And despite his fear of betrayal, he’d had no choice but to succumb to Madeline.
In her own uniquely spirited way, she had pierced his armor and burrowed unerringly into his heart.
And now? Rayne wondered broodingly.
He’d originally wed her because he needed a wife to give him heirs. But now he wanted so much more. He wanted Madeline as his friend, his lover, his life’s mate, not merely the mother of his children.
And he wanted her love in return.
Yet what did she want?
A fresh wave of apprehension struck Rayne. No doubt he could forcibly prevent Madeline from leaving him, but she might never be able to love him after the unforgivable way he’d treated her.
His gut churning to the rhythm of galloping hoofbeats, he spurred his horse harder, urgency driving him to even greater speed.
Rayne was barely a mile outside of Chiswick when he recognized the barouche lumbering toward him as belonging to his grandmother. Deliberately he swung to the right and came to a halt directly in the vehicle’s path, where his sweating mount remained prancing and snorting.
At first, Lady Haviland’s coachman whipped up the team as if intending to barrel straight through Rayne. But as the distance closed between them, the servant started sawing frantically on the reins, trying to slow the barouche.
“My lord!” the coachman exclaimed as Rayne nudged his horse sideways at the last moment to avoid a collision. “I mistook you for a footpad.”
“Be easy, Muller. I want a word with my grandmother.”
“Haviland!” an imperious voice demanded. “What on earth is the meaning of this?” The noblewoman had let down the carriage window in order to hail him, Rayne saw.
“I should ask you the same question, Grandmother,” he replied in a dangerously silken tone.
Her lack of protest along with her wary expression told him she knew exactly why he was there.
Rapidly dismounting, Rayne ordered Muller to turn her ladyship’s carriage around and return to Riverwood. Then tying his horse to the rear of the barouche, he climbed inside to confront his relative.
“Why are you behaving in this havey-cavey fashion?” Lady Haviland sputtered, attempting to bluster her way out.
Rayne returned her haughty gaze with a hard one of his own. “I think you know, Grandmother. We have a grave matter to discuss, wouldn’t you agree?”
His worst fear was that Madeline would be gone by the time they reached Riverwood. His second was that she would be packing. According to his grandmother, Madeline had not refused her offer of fifty thousand pounds out of hand, and had even promised to consider it.
Therefore, as soon as the barouche came to a halt in the drive, Rayne bounded out and threw an order at the coachman before taking the front steps three at a time.
When he shoved open the front door and burst into the entrance hall, the first person he spied was his majordomo.
“Bramsley, where is Lady Haviland?” Rayne demanded.
“In the green parlor, my lord.”
His racing heartbeat slowed the slightest measure. At least she was still here.
“Have my horse stabled,” Rayne ordered as he brushed past Walters, “and see that the case behind my saddle is brought to my study.”
“Certainly, my lord.”
When he reached the parlor, he found Madeline seated on a sofa.
“Thank God,” Rayne murmured under his breath before realizing her face was buried in her hands.
Then Madeline looked up and noticed him. Her expression held unmistakable pain, Rayne saw, relentlessly flogging himself.
He was vaguely aware that Freddie was present, too, but he only had eyes for his wife.
“Rayne,” she gasped, her voice barely audible. “Is something wrong?”
“Yes, something is very wrong, Madeline,” he said quietly. “I understand my grandmother made you an outrageous financial offer.”
Her eyes were dark and full of despair. “Yes,” she whispered.
“I hope you did not consider it.”
Before she could reply, Freddie stuck his oar in. “It may not be my place to say so, Rayne, but your grandmother is a perfect witch.”
“I completely agree,” Rayne said in a terse voice.
“Then what do you mean to do about her?”
Ignoring his cousin, Rayne held out his hand to Madeline. She might not believe any professions of love just now, so he would just have to show her. “Please, will you come with me, love?”
Her wide, questioning eyes seemed too big for her face, but she rose hesitantly.
Without speaking, Rayne escorted her out to his grandmother’s barouche. He had ordered Muller to remain there in the drive and was infinitely glad to see he’d been obeyed even though the dowager had very likely threatened her longtime servant with dismissal.
Flinging wide the carriage door, Rayne stepped into the opening. Lady Haviland sat stiffly on the far side of the barouche, her spine rigid as she stared straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge him.
“It is time for you to proffer my wife a sincere apology for your shameless meddling, Grandmother,” Rayne prodded.
At his demand, however, the noblewoman visibly bristled. “I refuse to hold this discussion in front of the servants, sir,” she declared with an imperious wave of her hand to indicate her coachmen and grooms.
Her staff, however, was not their only audience, Rayne noted, since Freddie had followed him outside, as had two of his own footmen. Yet he was unswayed by her argument. “Do you think I give a damn who hears?”
At his adamant tone, his grandmother’s expression changed, while her own voice softened to hold an almost pleading note. “Rayne, do you not see? I only have your best interests at heart. You made a dreadful mistake, marrying as you did. I wanted heirs to the Haviland title, true, but not at this price.”
“Grandmother …” Rayne said warningly, his anger rising.
In response, Lady Haviland gave a faint cry and clutched her hand to her heart. As she slumped against the corner seat, Rayne ground his teeth. He’d seen this same dramatic performance before, more than once. Suspecting she was feigning a heart seizure yet again, he decided to call her bluff.
“Muller, please take Lady Haviland directly to her doctors in London. She is too weak to continue this discussion at the moment and needs to be confined to her bed.”
His command had the desired effect. As he made to shut the carriage door, Lady Haviland sat up abruptly. “No, wait!”
Rayne drew Madeline forward, holding her tucked against his side, as if sheltering her from attack. And when his grandmother gave his wife a scathing glance, he laid down his gauntlet. “If I must choose between the two of you, Grandmother, it will be Madeline. I love her, and I intend to keep her as my wife. There will be no question of annulment.”
He felt Madeline stiffen against him. She had been watching the elderly noblewoman, but at his declaration, her shocked gaze lifted to his.
Her luminous eyes held confusion and doubt as she whispered in disbelief, “You love me?”
&
nbsp; Rayne gave her a tender smile. “More than I can say, sweetheart.”
Returning his attention to his grandmother, he said in a cutting tone, “You will accept her into the family or I will have nothing more to do with you. Until then, you are not welcome here or at any of my homes.”
Lady Haviland had set her jaw stubbornly, but it went slack at his threat. Evidently she believed him, for she finally muttered, “Well then, if you insist…. I apologize.”
“That is not good enough,” Rayne snapped. “You should direct your apology to my wife.”
The dowager pressed her lips together tightly, her expression sour. But then exhaling a peeved sigh, she gave in. “I beg your forgiveness, Miss Ellis—That is, Lady Haviland. I should not have interfered in your affairs.”
Rayne started to remonstrate at her spiteful tone, but Madeline placed a hand on his arm.
“Thank you, my lady,” she said softly. “If you agree, we will forget this contretemps entirely and put it down to a misunderstanding.”
Lady Haviland looked as if she might refuse the offer of peace, but eventually she gave a brusque nod.
“That will do for now,” Rayne said tersely, deciding not to force the issue any further at the moment. Although it was not the concession he wanted, his grandmother had made a significant step with her grudging apology, and Madeline was evidently willing to drop the matter. Rayne felt his heart swell at her generosity.
Signaling to the coachman, Rayne stepped back, drawing Madeline with him. They both watched as the coachman flicked his whip at the team and the barouche pulled away.
Then Rayne turned to Madeline. She was gazing up at him, the look in her eyes one of longing, of hope—her expression exactly mirroring the emotions he felt.
Chapter Twenty-one
So this is what you meant by the joy of true love, Maman. I agree, it truly is magical.
Madeline scarcely dared breathe as she stared up at Rayne. Her heart had begun to slam in slow, painful strokes while her thoughts and emotions rioted.
“Have I rendered you speechless for once?” he asked softly.
She tried to swallow past the dryness in her throat. “I think perhaps you have.”
Realizing how her voice quavered with uncertainty, Madeline steeled herself to pose the crucial question that had haunted her since receiving his grandmother’s shattering proposition. “Did you mean it? You don’t want an annulment?”
“Not only do I not want an annulment,” Rayne declared, “I would hunt you down to the ends of the earth if you tried to leave me.”
His un-loverlike vow might be based purely on male possessiveness, Madeline thought, dazed, but at least it gave her reason to hope that Rayne wanted to keep her as his wife.
On the other hand, his shocking declaration of love had been made in the heat of anger at his elderly relative. Could she possibly let herself believe that he truly meant it?
Oddly, the look in Rayne’s eyes was a mixture of regret and worry as he regarded her with a searching gaze. “I understand my grandmother offered you fifty thousand pounds to annul our marriage, Madeline.”
“Yes,” she said, still hoarse.
“I was terrified you would accept.”
Rayne was terrified? Not a tenth as terrified as she had been, she would wager.
Madeline shook her head adamantly. “I don’t want your grandmother’s money, Rayne.”
“Why then did you tell her you would consider her offer?”
“Because I thought she was making it on your behalf—that you wanted me to agree to an annulment.”
A muscle flexed in his jaw. “No, I knew nothing about it. If I had, I would have done my damnedest to spare you her vitriol. I am so very sorry, sweetheart. Her intrusion was outrageous and unforgivable.”
Squeezing her eyes shut briefly, Madeline gave a deep shudder of relief. “I thought an annulment would be in your best interests,” she whispered. “Lady Haviland believes you deserve a wife who can move in your social circles and enhance your standing in the ton.”
Rayne’s expression remained solemn. “I don’t care what she believes. You know I don’t give a damn about the ton. Besides, you are perfectly qualified to move in any circles you choose—mine, hers, the Crown’s, anywhere.”
Madeline inhaled a shaky breath. Hope filled her chest along with a faint, burgeoning feeling of joy. Did she dare give in to it?
Aloud, she added haltingly, “The difference in our social stations was not the only reason I thought an annulment might be best for you. Lady Haviland also told me you wouldn’t inherit a penny of her fortune if I remained wedded to you.”
His gaze narrowed. “So you were trying to protect my inheritance?”
“Well … yes.”
Rayne looked as if he was striving for patience. “In the first place, I have my own fortune and don’t need my grandmother’s.”
“You do?”
“Yes. I am a very wealthy man. Didn’t you realize it?”
“No,” Madeline said weakly. “Your sisters were extremely worried that their sons would be cut off from your grandmother’s largesse. And Freddie said she was holding her fortune over your head to force you to take a suitable wife.”
“That isn’t the case at all. Thanks to several wise investments in the East India Company, I am nearly as well off as my grandmother, so you needn’t sacrifice our marriage for my sake.”
“Oh,” she murmured.
“Have you nothing else to say?”
In truth, she did, but she had difficulty gathering her courage, fearing Rayne’s response. Finally, though, Madeline forced the words out. “Did … did you mean it? You truly love me?”
His features softened. “Absolutely, I meant it. I truly love you, sweet Madeline.”
A sharp, fierce joy hit her. She felt shaky, trembling inside.
At her speechlessness, Rayne moved closer. Reaching up, he curved his palm gently against her cheek, taking care to avoid the bruised skin there, and bent his head as if intending to kiss her….
Before his lips met hers, however, Madeline heard the sound of a throat being cleared. A fierce wave of disappointment shot through her at the reminder that they were not alone; Freddie still hovered nearby, although one of Rayne’s footmen had disappeared, leading his horse around to the stables, and the other had withdrawn a discreet distance.
“By Jove,” Freddie enthused, “now that is a romantic vow if I have ever heard one. You should be quite happy now, Madeline. All your fears were for naught.”
Flustered by their unwanted audience, Madeline drew back from Rayne, while Freddie continued his cheerful observations. “Rumor has it that Rayne is the ideal lover, but I can clearly see that for myself now. No doubt I could take lessons from him—”
“Freddie, old friend,” Rayne interrupted sharply, “will you please make yourself scarce? Whatever your problems, they will have to wait for some future time. At the moment, I require privacy with my wife.”
“Certainly,” Freddie said, grinning. “I am merely reveling in the chance to crow. It is about time you succumbed to love. I was growing weary of always being the besotted one. And just think, I am responsible for your matchmaking—”
“Freddie,” Rayne growled.
“Very well, I am leaving! But Madeline, when you are free, pray remember that I need you to champion me with Miss Merrywether’s mama.”
“I will, Freddie,” she promised, although all her attention was on her husband.
Rayne responded in kind, taking her hand and touching his lips to her fingers. “Shall we continue this conversation inside, love?” he asked. “We have some very private matters to discuss.”
When Madeline gave him a shaky smile of agreement, his large, warm hand settled on the small of her back and guided her up the front steps of the manor, leaving Freddie behind to arrange for his curricle to be brought around.
Once inside the house, Rayne led her to his study and shut the door firmly behind them. “No
w, where were we?”
Having halted, Madeline turned to face him expectantly. “You were about to kiss me if I recall.”
A quick smile flashed across his mouth, then disappeared. “I would like to do much more than kiss you, love, but I believe I must first proffer you an abject apology. For my grandmother, and more important, for myself.”
Hiding her regret, Madeline quelled her need to feel Rayne’s reassuring embrace and said simply, “I don’t need apologies, Rayne. I only need to know you love me.”
His eyes were intent and very blue. “I do love you, Madeline. And I am not about to let you leave me. But at least allow me to explain why I was so resistant to you.”
She did want very much to hear his explanation, so she accompanied Rayne to the sofa, where he drew her down beside him.
“I admit I tried my damnedest not to fall in love with you,” he began. “In fact, I planned never to feel anything resembling love for the rest of my life.”
Held transfixed by his gaze, Madeline ventured a guess at what had precipitated his resolution. “Freddie said you once experienced a tragic love affair and never recovered.”
Rayne grimaced. “Freddie is a damned rattlepate.”
“But is it true?”
“Yes—although my story was not exactly tragic. Some years ago I fell in love with a Frenchwoman who pretended to return my ardor so that I would save her aristocratic family from persecution. But as soon as they were safely in England, she cast me aside to return to her lover.”
Madeline felt a protective rush of sympathy at Rayne’s confession. “She must have been mad to prefer anyone over you,” she declared loyally.
Again his smile was fleeting. “I am honored by the compliment, sweeting—but in all honesty, I could understand her desire to be united with her lover. Yet having my first youthful love betrayed set me on my guard. After the war’s end, I returned home to England determined to remain forever unencumbered by emotional attachments.” He reached up and stroked her cheek with a fingertip. “But you changed all that for me, Madeline.”
To Tame a Dangerous Lord Page 34
