Madeline hadn’t slept a wink. As dawn broke, she rose and dressed. It was now almost nine. Richard had promised to come to her directly he arrived home. She knew he’d not been in his bed all night because she’d checked his room several times over the last few hours.
Unable to face food, she set about exploring her new home and meeting the staff. Clayton, Richard’s valet, was unlike any valet her brother had ever employed. He wore an earring in one ear and spoke with a rough French accent. His small size was at odds with his deep, gravelly voice.
The butler, Biggans, whom she’d briefly met on her arrival last night, introduced her to the rest of the staff, regardless of the fact it was still relatively early in the morning, and an odd time for introductions. The number of staff was not overly large. She’d have to talk with Richard. If they were to entertain, she’d need to increase their number. She knew she’d be expected to entertain, but the thought petrified her. What if she did something wrong? She knew how unforgiving the
ton
was. Because of her rushed marriage to Richard, they would be watching her every move.
The housekeeper, Mrs. Burton, put her at ease immediately. Richard’s house was smaller than Rufus’s London house, and Maddy knew she was capable of managing it.
With Mrs. Burton at her side, they toured the house, discussing the decor and any changes Maddy may want to make. As she hadn’t discussed budgets with Richard, and indeed could only guess at the state of his finances, she kept the changes small. All she knew was what she’d heard in general gossip, that the Craven brothers were wealthy beyond measure. Anthony, due to his large and profitable estate and other investments, and Richard due to the shipping line he’d developed from the remaining ships when they had closed down their father’s deplorable slave trading business, many years ago.
“Shall we view the nursery now?”
Mrs. Burton’s question made Maddy blush. She’d only just married. “I’m not sure the nursery needs to be addressed so quickly.”
“Oh, I simply assumed you’d want to see it.”
She tried to hide her excited smile, and only just stopped her hand from caressing her stomach. Had they already started a new life? She hoped so. If truth was known, she couldn’t wait to decorate the nursery, as well as fill it with babes, hers and Richard’s children. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to take a look.”
An excited feeling filled the pit of her stomach.
Children.
She’d always longed for children of her own. She’d been so lonely growing up. Rufus was her only sibling. Her mother used to call Maddy her sweet miracle. There was a ten-year age gap between them. After Rufus’s birth, her parents had tried for more children; however, as the barren years passed, her mother thought she couldn’t have any more. Then Maddy came along.
So Maddy knew what it was to grow up with no close siblings. She hoped she could fill this house so that her children had siblings close to their own age to play with. She hoped she was more fertile than her mother.
A gasp of delight passed her lips upon entering the nursery. The light blue wallpaper was patterned with a delightful mix of various animals, and the vibrant red and gold drapes held securely back with ties allowed light and air to flow through the room. She looked longingly at the white and gold cradle covered in muslin on the other side of the large, light, and cheerful room. “I’m surprised the nursery is in such good condition, given Richard hadn’t planned to marry...” Her words petered out and she blushed. How stupid could she be? A month ago he had planned to marry-but marry Sarah. This nursery was for Sarah and Richard’s children.
Mrs. Burton simply cleared her throat and said, “If it is not to your taste, it would not take much to change it.”
Maddy swallowed her hurt. It would be childish to change what had already been done. It was quite lovely. “No,” she said softly. “It’s perfect as it is.” Would she forever be following in another woman’s footsteps? With one more longing look, Maddy again patted her stomach. At least, she would be the one bearing Richard’s children.
They were half way down the stairs when the front door banged open and a loud commotion was heard below. Richard’s valet raced up the stairs toward them, slowing to bow to them before racing on up toward Richard’s bedchamber. The two women exchanged worried glances and quickly descended the stairs.
Maddy looked down to see a sooty and bedraggled Richard being helped out of his greatcoat, which was singed and filthy. Her heart jumped into her throat. He looked so tired and perhaps he’d been hurt. “My goodness! What on earth has happened?”
He gave her a weary, but heart-stopping smile. “There was a fire at Lady Wrentham’s.” Looking pointedly at the staff he added, “Anthony and I were across the road at Lord Strathmore’s and were therefore able to go to Lady Wrentham’s aid. There was not much damage except to the kitchen.”
Maddy reached his side and cradled his face. “Was anyone hurt?” She looked at his singed clothing. “Are you hurt?”
He shook his head before pressing a soft kiss on to her lips. “No. I’m simply exhausted. Clayton is preparing a bath for me.” He pushed her away from him. “I must smell dreadfully.”
Maddy would have laughed at his comment but for the fact that he did smell, a mixture of manly sweat and burned clothes. But it was his demeanor that struck a raw nerve. He was nervous, or rather, anxious. Her immediate thought was he was concerned about Lady Wrentham. “Is Lady Wrentham well?”
“Your bath has been drawn,” Clayton called in his accented voice.
Richard patted her arm as he moved passed her to ascend the stairs. “We’ll talk once I’m clean and more presentable.”
She watched him walk slowly up the stairs. He did not look back at her. He was hiding something. This wasn’t merely tiredness. Panic began to take hold. Had seeing Sarah made him regret this marriage?
#
God, he was tired. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the high rim of the large copper tub. He was not looking forward to his conversation with Maddy. He hoped he would not have to lie to his wife.
Exhaustion cloaked him, heavy like a cannon ball, yet his body would not settle. The hot water did nothing to soothe his nerves or ease the tension in his muscles or the pain in his chest. What an unmitigated mess. If only he’d understood his feelings for Sarah before he’d slept with her. Why was it almost every man, including him, were unable to work out their heart’s true path before they did something stupid.
In the tortured silence, he heard the rustle of clothing. Snapping his eyes open, his gaze rose up to see the beguiling figure of the woman who now haunted his dreams by night, and thoughts by day.
“What is wrong? What did you not wish to tell me in front of the servants? I know you, Richard. What are you not telling me?” His heart skipped a beat at the doubt and worry in Maddy’s voice.
He lay in the tub feasting on the beauty standing before him. For years he’d taken her adulation for granted. It used to warm his heart, and make him strut around like a peacock. Now he wanted to own her heart, and while he knew Maddy had been infatuated with him, infatuation was not love. Infatuation was a different beast altogether. It meant you worshipped from afar without ever really knowing the person you idolized. Infatuation was often quick to flame, bright to burn, but easily extinguished once you truly began to learn all there was to know about a person. Maddy didn’t know him-not really. Right now, he wasn’t sure he even knew himself.
He remembered his conversation with Anthony. If he told Maddy the truth about the babe, he was petrified he’d dowse any chance of Maddy wanting and learning to love him, and the pain ripping through his chest right now made him realize how much he longed for her love.
“You’re scaring me,” she whispered.
“I want to tell you when I am holding you in my arms.”
A smile lit her beauty. “That’s easily fixed. The tub looks big enough for two.” Her hand dipped in the water and sprinkled drops on his bare chest, and his tired body forgot why it should be exhausted and stirred to life.
Her fingers dipped again and trailed lower, his erection straining toward what it most wanted—her hand wrapped firmly around him.
He stilled her questing fingers, his grip tighter than he meant. “I’m serious, Maddy. Please let me do this right!”
Her smile died and he inwardly cursed himself, but guilt over keeping something from her had made him lash out. “For once, please obey me.”
Her hand left his body as if she’d been burned.
“I shall await you downstairs then.” She quickly pivoted on her heals, and with her head held high, she left his bathing chamber.
He ran a hand through his hair. “Christ!” The expression on her face when he’d stilled her hand was one of hurt and confusion. He’d caught a glimpse of poignant sadness in her eyes as she’d turned from him.
God damn it to hell.
He slapped the water sending droplets flying. He’d made a mistake turning her away. Maddy would be reading far more into it than there was because he’d come from Sarah’s house.
He dipped his head under the water and quickly washed the smoke from his hair. The longer he left Maddy to her wonderings, the harder this would be.
#
Maddy sat waiting for her husband in much the same way Marie Antoinette must have awaited her fate: with fear and trepidation. The clock on the mantle place seemed to slow down altogether. She prayed it would stop. She didn’t want to hear what her husband wished to tell her. The formality of his words and countenance screamed nothing but bad news.
He’d turned her away. They’d been man and wife for only a few days. Had he tired of her this quickly? She swallowed back an even greater fear. Perhaps it was simply that he’d seen his past lover and decided he preferred her charms compared to her meager offerings.
Her body grew cold, as her mind filled with images of being sent to Richard’s country estate while he lived in town with Sarah.
She hugged herself tightly. If that was what he wished for, then she’d do it. Leave him. She loved him more than life itself and could no more deny him his happiness than plunge a dagger in his chest.
“Don’t look so worried, Maddy.”
Her gaze flew to the doorway where her husband, freshly bathed and immaculately dressed, stood watching her. The assault on her senses was immediate. His hair was still damp from his bath and the wet had darkened it to the color of honey. He was formally dressed, his tight forest-green jacket molding to the breadth of his broad shoulders before narrowing down to a trim waist, and finally disappearing into a pair of skintight trousers. His calves were covered with knee-high hessians. He was like a Greek god and his beauty stole her breath away for a few moments.
His tone when he spoke was oddly soothing, yet anxiousness cloaked him like a smothering fog.
“Do I have anything to worry about?” she replied, her voice catching.
She watched him casually stride to the sideboard and pour himself a drink. Tension cloaked his shoulders. This must be bad if he had to fortify himself first. He downed the glass and refilled it. She watched him swallow it and then allowed her eyes to roam over him. Her body reacted to his blatant masculinity, and warmth pooled between her thighs. She might want Richard to be happy, but in a blink of her eye she knew her previous thoughts were false. She’d not give him up without a fight. They could be very happy together, if he’d only give her his heart.
His freshly shaved face emphasized his dimples and his eyes—those deep blue eyes—gazed at her as if she were a stranger. He sank into the chair opposite her with a sigh. “This is the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to do.”
“More difficult than marrying me?” she asked dryly.
He pinned her with the kind of look that robbed grown women of their wits. “It was the easiest thing in the world to marry you, Maddy. It was the right thing to do. After all, you were only trying to save me.”
While she busily gathered herself, composing her body to brace herself for the pain of his words, he surprised her by crossing over to her and falling on his knees at her feet. He took her hands in his and raised them to his lips.
“Before the fire started, Sarah told Anthony and I some bad news.”
“Is this bad news why she wanted to see you
and
Anthony?”
His hesitation was slight. “Yes, she’s in a great deal of trouble.”
“I don’t understand. Trouble?”
“Her groom believes the girth on Charles’s saddle was cut and that is why he fell.”
Maddy gasped, clutching her chest. “So she thinks someone deliberately tried to hurt Lord Wrentham? He could have been killed…He
was
killed.” At Richard’s nod, she added, “Who would want Charles dead…other than her, of course.”
Richard let that comment slide away. “That’s what we have to find out.”
“We?”
“Anthony, Rufus and I have agreed to come to her aid. Sarah thinks she’s now in danger.”
Maddy frowned. “This is very confusing. If she’s in danger, how and why?”
Richard took a large gulp of his brandy. “Sarah believes Timothy Chesterton killed his brother for the title and is hoping to blame her. Everyone knows she did not wish to marry Charles. They would assume she’d killed her husband to be free to marry me. No-one was to know I’d end up compromising you and that we’d marry so quickly.”
“Are you sure she didn’t do it?”
“She wasn’t in Newmarket for the hunt. She was unwell and had stayed in London.”
Maddy was missing something important. “Why is Sarah now in danger? With Charles dead, the estate goes to Timothy anyway.”
Richard’s blue irises darkened and his nostrils flared. “Sarah is with child. Do you understand what that means?”
It only took Maddy a second to understand the implications of this.
“No wonder she feels threatened. If Timothy killed his brother for the title and estate, which I think he’s perfectly capable of, he can’t risk Sarah giving birth to a son.”
“Exactly. We set a controlled fire at her house to give her an excuse to move in with Anthony and Melissa, an excuse that wouldn’t cause Timothy to be suspicious.”