His Wicked Wish (30 page)

He gave a curt nod to Nathan.

Only by rote did she manage to dip a graceful curtsy. Her mouth felt dry, her heart pounding. “Good evening, Your Grace.”

Rising slowly, she gazed straight at her grandfather's withered features. So this was the man who had shunned Mama. Over many years, hatred of him had formed a calcified knot inside Maddy. But she should not have dreaded this meeting. He was just an arrogant aristocrat at the end of his days.

He peered at her through rheumy blue eyes. She stared back, unable to tear her gaze from him. His face was so gaunt, his nose looked very prominent. She saw in him her mother's high cheekbones and a certain similarity in the oval shape of their faces.

The duke leaned forward suddenly. His crablike hand groped out, his skeletal fingers closing around hers.

“Sarah?” he croaked.

Her heart took a tumble. Dear God, he had mistaken her for her mother. Papa had always remarked on the resemblance between them. “No,” Maddy whispered, then said, louder, “No, that isn't my name.”

She tried to pull her hand free, but his gnarled fingers held on to her with surprising strength. “You're Sarah. Don't try to bamboozle me, girl. You always did try to do so.”

Nathan intervened, saying gently, “Your Grace, I'm afraid you're mistaken. This is my wife, Lady Rowley.”

She wanted to back away. They were drawing attention from the nearby guests as people turned and stared. She spied Lady Milford in the crowd, her lips pursed in concern. A short distance away, Lady Gilmore stood frowning, the quizzing glass held to one eye.

Maddy couldn't retreat. The duke clutched her hand in a death grip. She tugged again. But she was afraid to pull too hard lest his ancient bones snap.

His sunken blue eyes grew watery, his once haughty chin wobbling. “Of course you aren't Sarah,” he said brokenly, as he released her hand. “You can't be. My daughter would be much older now. It's just … I was hoping to see her again…”

That display of anguish whipped up a frenzy of rage in Maddy. How dare the Duke of Houghton pretend sorrow when he himself had driven his daughter away? When he had cut Mama off from his family and told her she was dead to him?

Maddy didn't stop to think. The words poured out in a bitter rush. “Lady Sarah Langley is dead, Your Grace. She was my mother, and she died over ten years ago. I'm your granddaughter, Madelyn. The granddaughter you never knew existed—because you'd shunned us.”

Gasps eddied from the bystanders. A buzz of whispers spread throughout the entrance hall. She sensed movement around her, though she kept her gaze on the duke's slack-jawed face. She wanted him to say something, to lash out at her in anger, to look down his long nose and rebuke her.

Nathan's hand tightened convulsively on her arm. She glanced up to see his stark, astonished features. The others were staring at her in disbelief, Lord Gilmore frowning beside his mother, Emily clinging to Lord Theo's arm, Lady Sophia with her mouth agape.

Maddy felt faint. What had she done? This was not what she'd intended. But it was too late to turn back now.

Lord Dunham sprang to the duke's side. His icy gaze bored into Maddy. “What the devil is this nonsense? How dare you make such an outrageous claim! You're nothing but an upstart actress. Leave this house at once.”

Nathan uttered a growl low in his chest. Sensing him about to spring, Maddy dug her fingers into the hard muscles of his arm to stop him. “Every word of it is true. The Duke of Houghton is my grandfather. You are my cousin. So is Lord Theo.”

“Impossible—” Dunham sputtered.

“His Grace tried to force Mama into a betrothal with a nobleman when she was eighteen. But she'd fallen in love with a traveling actor, Jeremy Swann. For the sin of running off to marry her true love, she was cast out of this family forever.” Maddy gestured at the duke. “Ask my grandfather. He'll confirm it. I'm sure he remembers exactly what happened.”

The Duke of Houghton said nothing at all. He sat staring up at her, his bony fingers gripping the arms of his invalid's chair. A single tear trickled on a slow path down his withered cheek. He looked old and broken, and Maddy knew it must be a shock to learn that his daughter was dead. Then she chided herself for feeling even a shred of sympathy for the man.

Nathan placed his firm hand at the small of her back. “Pray forgive this outburst, Your Grace. My wife and I will be leaving now.”

His frigid tone chilled Maddy. All the fire seemed to have burned out of her. She didn't feel relieved or triumphant—just hollow and wretched.

Her legs moved woodenly as Nathan thrust her toward the door. The multitude of guests parted to give them wide berth. She felt their stares and heard their whispers as if in a dream. None of them mattered to her. Let them think what they willed. She wanted only to go home and bury herself beneath the covers of her bed. To hug her pillow and escape all the prying eyes.

They went outside into the cool night and down the porch steps. Nathan propelled her past a line of carriages. Coachmen gathered in small groups, conversing and trading jests. A burst of hearty laughter came from the carriages parked across the darkened square.

Nathan's footsteps were quick and sharp on the pavement, and she had to half run to keep up with him. As they hurried by Lord Gilmore's vehicle, the stout coachman doffed his hat in surprise. “Milord—”

Her husband didn't stop to answer. He ploughed ahead, his hand pressing at Maddy's back. As they passed beneath a street lamp, the glow of gaslight cast harsh shadows on his grim features. Never had she seen him look so coldly furious. Not even when confronting his father.

Stepping off the curbstone, she nearly twisted her ankle in her new dancing slippers. “Nathan, do slow down. Where are we going?”

He moderated his pace only slightly. “Gilmore House. It's eight blocks away.”

“Oughtn't we take the coach?”

“No. My family will need it when Houghton ejects them.”

A huge lump crowded her throat. She had ruined the ball for everyone, Emily in particular. How disappointed the girl would be to miss her only chance to flirt with Lord Theo.

Clearly, Nathan believed no one in his family would want to ride in the same coach as her. How they must all resent her. She had lied to them. She had hidden her past and tricked them into taking her to the Duke of Houghton's house.

They would all realize, too, that confronting the duke was the real reason she'd married Nathan.

Tears blurred her eyes, but Maddy blinked them back. She swallowed to ease the tightness in her throat as she strove to keep up with his long strides. “Nathan, I'm … I'm so very sorry. I should have asked to speak to the duke in private. That's what I had intended to do. I never meant to make such a confession in front of everyone. It just … spilled out.”

“Spilled out,” he mocked, urging her past a row of tall, darkened town houses. They had left the square and now proceeded down a side street, their footsteps echoing in the quiet night air. “All this time, you've kept your past a secret from me. You should have allowed your connection to Houghton to
spill out
when I asked you to marry me.”

“I—I couldn't. You would have withdrawn your proposal.”

He gave a harsh growl. “Precisely. You played me for a fool. You saw my offer as your big chance. You wanted to use me to enter society. All so that you could gain entry to Houghton's house.”

Everything he said was true. But she was done apologizing. “You used me, too, Nathan.”

“And I paid you well for the privilege! Dammit, I
knew
there was something odd about your interest in Dunham. I knew it and I let you hoodwink me.” He ran his fingers through his hair, mussing the long black strands. In the gloom, his face looked taut with fury as he hauled her down the street. “Blast you, Madelyn. You lied to me. You led me to believe you were a commoner. But your blood is bluer than mine.”

It seemed an odd thing for him to say. “What do you mean? My father was an actor.”

“And mine was a damned footman.”

Startled, she stopped in the halo of light from a street lamp and spun to face him. “No. The Earl of Gilmore is your father.”

He glanced around as if to assure himself there was no one out on the street. “My mother had numerous affairs. She saw no need for fidelity in marriage. She was caught carrying on with a footman nine months before I was born.”

Disbelieving, Maddy slowly shook her head. “That can't be true. Who told you that?”

“Gilmore himself,” Nathan snarled in a harsh undertone. “It was his gift to me on my twenty-first birthday. He was angry about having to pay off my gaming debts, and he attributed my depravity to my bad blood. Needless to say, we had the row of the century. The very next day, I left England, intending never to return.”

Shocked, Maddy leaned back against the hard post of the street lamp. It all made perfect, awful sense now. No wonder the earl had treated Nathan so coldly in his childhood. No wonder he had favored his elder son. No wonder Nathan had gone abroad and returned ten years later with vengeance on his mind.

And no wonder he had offered marriage to a disreputable actress. It was the perfect way to punish Gilmore.

“Who else knows this?” she asked faintly.

“Only the dowager. But I'm sure there were rumors, given my mother's notoriety.”

Maddy felt sick at the realization that she'd proved to Nathan that she, too, was an untrustworthy wife. She had tricked him, concealed the fact that she had blue blood. But didn't that make them equals?

“We're alike then, you and I,” she asserted. “We're both half noble. And if the earl resents you, it stands to reason he will continue to resent me, as well. Perhaps even more so since I caused such a great scandal tonight.”

“No. You're wrong.” Nathan took hold of her arm again and pulled her along the foot pavement. He seemed too full of rage to stand still. “Consider it from his perspective. Gilmore was forced to accept the footman's son as his heir. And when the footman's son married a common actress, it was the worst possible circumstance, for it meant the Gilmore bloodline would be further diluted. But now, the actress reveals her connection to one of the most powerful peers in England. And that changes everything.” In the shadows, Nathan clenched his jaw. “Trust me, once he overcomes his shock, Gilmore will be very, very pleased by this new development.”

Maddy took a shaky breath. “But … the scandal…”

“Will die down eventually. In a matter of months, you'll be cozy with the ton, especially if Houghton decides to accept you as a family member. So in Gilmore's way of thinking, he's won. Because if you were to bear me a son, the boy needn't be hidden away. He would be eminently worthy of the title.”

“Surely the earl can't be that petty.”

“Yes, he can be. Pedigree means everything to him.”

The deep bitterness in his tone distressed her. It reflected the estrangement he had suffered in his own family. The Earl of Gilmore had made Nathan believe he was unworthy and unloved.

They walked for a few minutes in silence, turning a corner and heading down another dark street. Her feet hurt from the new shoes, but the pain in her heart was far greater. Now she understood the full extent of Nathan's fury. She had completely overturned his plans. He had craved retribution for the Earl of Gilmore's cruel treatment of him. Nathan believed he'd finally achieved the perfect revenge in foisting a notorious bride on his family.

But she had ruined everything for him.

No longer could she blame Nathan for despising the earl. He had been justified in his resentment. The circumstances of his birth had not been his fault, yet he had suffered the consequences. In childhood, he had been denied the love of a father. All because of his mother's folly …

Abruptly, he demanded, “When did you last have your courses? It must be nearly a month already, isn't it?”

Startled, Maddy blushed, grateful for the cover of darkness. She turned her face downward, watching the kick of her slippers against the hem of her gown. “Um … yes, I believe so.”

“Then you must tell me when they start. I've no wish to give Gilmore a grandson—not anymore. Then he truly
would
win.”

His cold, cutting tone sliced into her. Any hope she'd had of reconciling their differences died with that harsh statement.

Because she had fudged the truth. It actually
had
been longer than that since last she'd bled. Her courses were a week late. And for the past few days, she'd been feeling weary and nauseous. With the confrontation with her grandfather looming, she hadn't allowed herself to consider the possibility of pregnancy.

But now Maddy feared it might be true. And she couldn't bring herself to tell Nathan, either. He would be all the more furious.

He didn't want their child.

 

Chapter 21

The brightness of daylight pulled Maddy out of a deep slumber. She struggled to lift her heavy eyelids. Through the screen of her lashes, she saw a dark-clad, stout woman moving briskly from window to window in the bedchamber. It was Gertie, drawing back the draperies to let in the morning sunshine.

“Lord Gilmore sends a message, milady. He requests yer company in the library at eleven. And 'tis half past nine already.”

Maddy tried to focus her fuzzy thoughts. She had never before been invited into the earl's private sanctum. She'd always waited until he was gone to venture into the library to select a book. Why would he want to speak to her?

Then the events of the previous night returned in a sickening flood. The Duke of Houghton in a wheeled invalid's chair. A single tear sliding down his withered cheek. The angry words that had spewed out of her. Nathan hauling her out of the house in a fury and confessing that he'd been sired by a footman.