To Win his Wayward Wife AZ w cover

by Rose Gordon

  “I’d say thank you, but we all know that would just lead to more useless small talk,” he said cheekily.

  She smiled up at him. “I believe you’re right.”

  Silence filled the carriage. Though she hadn’t gotten to know him very well in the past few weeks, she’d gathered he wasn’t one for small talk and pleasantries. Whether it was because he just wasn’t interested in her or because by nature he was just a quiet sort, she didn’t know.

  The ride to her sister’s didn’t usually feel as long as it did this time, but sure enough only a half hour had passed before she was disembarking Gateway’s carriage and was on her way inside.

  Their breakfast went faster than she imagined possible and she soon found her nervous self being loaded once again into her husband’s silence-filled carriage.

  Due to the rush of their wedding date, they’d decided to wait until spring to go on their wedding trip, provided she wasn’t breeding. Madison gulped. Breeding? Surely not. They barely knew each other, they wouldn’t be having relations often enough for her to be breeding. Or would they? She’d been told men could take anything in a skirt to bed. For them it was just physical not emotional. But for her, like most women, marital relations fell more in the emotional category.

  Looking at him now she could tell he was expecting to visit her room tonight and the thought made her stomach clench. They barely knew each other. Perhaps she should ask for more time. No, that wouldn’t matter. He didn’t seem the sort to be denied, especially if she were to tell him she wanted to get to know him better first. She’d just have to swallow her fear, close her eyes, endure the activity and be thankful when he left.

  “You look nervous, Madison,” Gateway said, breaking into her thoughts.

  “I’m not,” she lied, flashing him a weak smile. “All right, I am.”

  He smiled at her. “There’s no need. I’m not as bad as they say.”

  “Right,” she chirped. The whole country had something unpleasant to say about him. How could he possibly be nearly as bad as everyone claimed? But even if he was only half that bad, that was bad enough.

  “I know we don’t know very much about the other,” he intoned, causing her eyes to meet his. “I’d like that to change. I think I can be a good husband to you, but you’ll have to let me in.”

  Her eyes went wide. What was he talking about? Let him in? Let him in where? Her bed? Of course she was going to have to let him in there. She couldn’t deny him his husbandly rights any more than she could have denied his abrupt announcement of their engagement. It just wasn’t done. “All right, Your Grace” she agreed with a tense nod. This was going to be a long night.

  “Good, I’m glad that’s settled,” he said lightly. “Now, if only I could break you from calling me ‘Your Grace’.”

  She swallowed. “What would you prefer? Gateway?”

  “No,” he burst out, shaking his head. “Never. I despise being called by my title. You can call me Benjamin or Ben, whichever you prefer.”

  She looked stared at him. Of course she knew what his name was, but she’d never considered he’d ask her to call him by it. “Benjamin,” she said, testing it on her lips.

  He smiled at her. “It looks like we’re here,” he said, moving to the door.

  Together they descended the carriage and walked into the front door where all the servants were assembled to greet their new mistress.

  One by one Benjamin introduced her to each of the servants, surprising her that he knew them all by name. She wasn’t bad with names necessarily, but when meeting so many at one time, she knew she’d never remember them all without having to ask again. She did make a point to remember Todd, the butler, Mrs. Potts, the cook, Mrs. Landry, the housekeeper and Lottie, the lady’s maid Benjamin had hired for her. Beyond that, she couldn’t keep up with all the Marys, Johns and Sarahs.

  In an odd twist of events, Benjamin dismissed Mrs. Landry when she offered to give Madison a tour of the house and insisted he’d show her around himself.

  Perched on his arm, she listened with great interest as he led her around the house and pointed out each room and explained why it was the way it was. She was quickly learning her husband had a great interest in both art and history. He admitted he couldn’t paint a square without messing it up and she almost told him she’d once had a great passion for painting before deciding he probably didn’t care about such things.

  After he’d taken her through all the common rooms in the downstairs, they climbed a great marble staircase that had beautifully carved mahogany banisters and a bright red carpet running down the center of the stairs.

  Idly, she trailed her fingers up the smooth wood as they climbed the stairs to what she presumed would be where their rooms would be located.

  Taking a deep breath as they reached to top landing, she stood quietly while he opened the first door and put his hand on the small of her back to encourage her to go forward.

  The room she’d entered was clearly a sitting room. There were two large royal blue settees positioned close to a large window with beautiful cream colored drapes. On the far wall, under a small window was a petite secretary stocked with fresh quills, inkpots and vellum. A soothing pale green wallpaper covered the walls and gave the room a softer touch. She roamed around and ran her fingers along all the surfaces, noting the feel of the fabric or the hard edges of the planes as she went. He must have talked to Brooke to know she wasn’t a fan of pinks and purples, she mused to herself. Smart man.

  “As I’m sure you’ve guessed, this is your sitting room. Through that door,” he gestured to a door over on the wall without windows, “is your bedchamber. You can also reach it through the hallway, if you’d like.”

  She nodded. If she went to her bedchamber now would he follow her? A shiver skated down her spine. Perhaps she’d wait until he found something else to occupy his time before she explored her bedchamber.

  “I’ve some letters to write,” she said abruptly, hoping he’d take the hint and leave.

  He looked slightly disappointed, but didn’t argue. With a nod, he accepted her statement, informed her dinner would be served at eight and departed, making only a soft click as he shut the door.

  Madison waited only a minute or two before opening the door and walking into what would now serve as her permanent sleeping location in London.

  Awe swept over her as she inspected the masterfully carved scrolls on the poles of her canopy bed. Running her fingers along the fringe of the deep crimson counterpane, she walked to the head of the bed where a little side table was positioned. After inspecting the odd little table that was perfectly polished and held a five candle lamp and a small clock, she went to the wardrobe. Her clothes had all been delivered the day before and it appeared Lottie had already put them away for her.

  With nothing else to do, she sat in solitude and waited for dinner. Solitude was no stranger to Madison. She’d spent nearly a year in the state after the bitter end to her relationship with Robbie. However, during that year she’d always had her sisters nearby, and even if they weren’t talking to her, at least she knew they were there. Now she had no one near her, leading her to feel lonelier than ever before.

  Dinner came soon enough and was an extraordinary feast she was certain she would have enjoyed had she been able to eat a bite. Nerves were getting the best of her. All day today she’d been a bundle of nerves. First with the wedding, then with worries of the wedding night. There was no denying he intended to visit her room tonight. His whole body screamed it. From the look in his eyes to the knowing smile that touched his lips, she could tell he had plans to devour her as soon as he was done devouring his evening meal.

  Knowing this only made her gut clench tighter.

  “I think I shall retire now,” she said blurted out as she set her napkin on the table and stood to depart.

  She hurried up the stairs and slipped into her room before exhaling a deep, nervous breath. Lottie was waiting for her in the corner and quickly hel
ped her to take off her dress before handing her a white cotton nightgown. Brooke had gone with her to the modiste to pick her trousseau. Of course Brooke, having a love match, suggested all sorts of filmy negligees. To appease Brooke, she’d ordered a few with express intent not to wear them. Ever. Brooke and her husband may enjoy bed play, but she was certain she and Benjamin would not find the activity nearly as enjoyable.

  Dismissing Lottie, Madison blew out all the candles, leaving her room lit only by a little sliver of the moon that peaked in through the break in the curtains. Shakily, her fingers went to the buttons at the top of her nightgown. As quickly as she could, she undid the first five before pulling her counterpane down and crawling into her bed. Once comfortable on the bed, she hiked the hem of her gown up to pool just above her waist, exposing the necessary parts for his easy accessibility. Content he’d not find her nightgown impeding him in any way, she raised her hands to her chest and repositioned her gaping bodice so the fabric was spread far enough to expose most of her breasts, but not far enough to show her nipples.

  Resting her hands by her sides and reminding herself to take deep breaths, she heard him walking around his room and knew it was only a matter of minutes before he knocked on her door.

  Those few minutes felt like hours as she laid there in the poorly lit room waiting for his discreet knock. Finally when she thought she could take it no longer, the knock came.

  “May I come in?” Benjamin asked, opening the door.

  Her mouth went dry and her throat tightened in such a way that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t form a single coherent noise.

  Taking her silence as an affirmative, Benjamin started walking in her direction. He wore only a dark dressing gown as he moved silently across the carpet in his bare beet, holding a single candle in his right hand.

  When he reached her side he put the candle on table before turning his gaze to her. She watched as he swallowed before letting his eyes travel down her body. To fight the instinctive urge to cover herself from his gaze, she fisted her hands in the sheets, twisting them into tight coils with her fingers.

  His gaze drifted past her nearly bared breasts and down to her waist before snapping back to her face. “What’s the meaning of this?” he demanded angrily.

  She stared at him in shock. What did he mean? What was the meaning of what? He’d obviously come to her room with the intent of bedding her, did he not recognize she was in ready position? “What do you mean?” she asked, swallowing convulsively.

  “Why are you presenting yourself to me like a whore?” he spat.

  Her eyes went wide and she felt the burning heat of hot tears pricking the back of each of her eyes. She opened her mouth to try and talk, but no words would come out. She mentally told herself to cover up, but her body must have been in too much shock because she didn’t move. She couldn’t move. She could do nothing more than just lie there and stare at him, her mouth fruitlessly trying to work.

  His hard eyes bored into her, demanding an answer. An answer she couldn’t give. At last he shook his head, grabbed the counterpane and carelessly flung it over her. “That was a disgusting display, madam,” he hissed with a snarl. “I never want to see it again, do you understand? That’s how a whore presents herself for a man who uses her body with little regard for her. Is that what you want?”

  Wide eyed, she continued to stare at him, unable to respond.

  He shook his head. “Believe me when I tell you that no woman wants to be treated that way. Heed my warning, don’t ever do anything this again.”

  In silent shock, she watched him leave her side. The hard crashing slam of the door broke her shock and made room for mortification and hurt.

  Under the covers she righted her nightgown and waited until he stopped slamming things in his room. A few minutes later she heard him slam another door, presumably the one to the hall. Against her better judgment, she crawled out of bed and bent down to look out the keyhole in her door. She could see him in the hallway. He was dressed in evening clothes. It appeared he was going out. She caught sight of another man in the hall, Benjamin’s valet perhaps. He mumbled something she couldn’t understand to the other man before dashing to the stairs. Less than a minute later she heard the front door shut.

  He’d left. He’d left her on their wedding night. Not only had he left her room after saying nasty things to her, he’d actually left the house on their wedding night to spend it with someone else.

  Never one to be given to fits of vapors, Madison found it odd when one hot, salty tear slipped from her eye and left a wet path down her cheek before dropping off the edge of her chin only to be absorbed by the thick carpet at her feet.

  Chapter 4

  “Where’s my wife!” Benjamin demanded as soon as Townson stepped foot into his own study. Benjamin had gone out for a carriage ride around the city last night to think things through and when he came back ready to apologize, he found his wife was missing.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Townson said evenly.

  Benjamin crossed his arms so he wouldn’t strangle the insolence right out of Townson. “Yes, you do. She’s here. I know she is, and so do you,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “No, I don’t,” Townson said calmly, taking a seat. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Madison isn’t here.”

  “Then where else would she be?” he snapped angrily.

  Townson gave him a dubious look. “I don’t know. At your house perhaps. She is your wife, not mine. I may not be a genius but that makes perfect sense to me.”

  Benjamin ground his teeth. “Call your wife in here. I’d like to ask her a question.”

  “You have no business commanding me in my own house, Gateway. I’ll not remind you of your manners again,” he said coolly, piercing him with his steely stare. “But since I have nothing to hide, I’ll call Brooke in here and I’ll ask her if she knows anything.”

  “Fine,” Benjamin said tersely. Brooke would be more likely to be honest with her husband than him anyway.

  Townson went to the hall for a minute before coming back to sit behind his desk. “Addams is on his way to get her. Don’t worry, I told him not to mention your presence.”

  Benjamin nodded.

  Silence filled the room as they waited for Brooke’s grand entrance. Benjamin scanned Townson’s impassive face. Was it possible he was telling the truth? Perhaps Madison wasn’t here after all. It was dark when he’d gone into her room early this morning. She could have been completely buried under the covers, trying to hide in case he was looking for her.

  His stomach tightened into an uncomfortable knot. He’d been wrong to be so hateful to her the night before. He should have just righted her gown and eased her fears rather than let his mouth run away with him. She hadn’t deserved his brutal words. She’d been nervous and uncertain. It had been printed on her face for all to see.

  The unmistakable sound of slippers sliding along the hardwood floor brought Benjamin to the present and he sat in silence as the door opened and Brooke walked in.

  “Andrew, I’m glad Addams found me. I’ve been needing to talk to you—” Her voice died on the spot when she saw Benjamin sitting by her husband’s desk.

  Thankfully Townson was no fool and after an extended blink, he looked back to his wife and drawled, “I believe you’re not the only one. Go get Madison and send her down.”

  “No,” Brooke said sharply, shaking her head in defiance.

  “No?” Townson echoed. “Brooke, listen to me. I know your intentions are good, but I cannot continue to harbor her here when her husband has every right to have her in his house.”

  “How can you speak of her like she’s a fugitive?” Brooke countered fiercely. “He’s the one in the wrong,” she accused, pointing a finger at Benjamin.

  “Darling, I know you don’t like him, and that’s your right, but the fact is, she’s his wife. Legally she cannot stay here,” Townson responded quietly.

 
Brooke shook her head stubbornly. “But—but—but he—”

  “What she means to say is he doesn’t want me,” Madison said coolly, walking into the room.

  “That’s not true,” Benjamin countered hastily, leaping from his seat.

  “Really?” Madison inquired with a cool reserve. “Then why did you go seek out the company of another on our wedding night?”

  Benjamin felt every eye in the room turn to him. Brooke’s were full of accusations. Townson’s full of fury and questions. And Madison’s, well, Madison’s were full of hurt. Hurt he’d caused by his harsh words and careless actions. The hurt he saw in her eyes hit him harder than any punch Townson had ever thrown his way, including the one that broke his nose.

  “Answer her,” Townson barked.

  “I didn’t,” Benjamin bit off. “I went for a ride, nothing more. I didn’t even speak to another person except Billings, my coachman.” He was relying on her being able to read the honesty in his eyes because that was all he could offer her just now.

  She shrugged. “It’s of no consequence,” she said flippantly. “Your nighttime activities are of no interest to me.”