Chapter 18
“Numbers. Numbers. Numbers,” Kenneth muttered to himself as he bent back over his ledgers.
It was the only reliable way to keep him from listening to the laughter drifting up from the gardens, where his brother, the children, and his wife were all occupied with the kite.
The estate was doing magnificently. The figures were precise.
He had no reason to be at this desk except that the alternative was the window, and he had spent quite enough of his time there.
Madeline had already taken his nights. He would not surrender his afternoons as well.
So he worked, and the work did what it always did; it narrowed the world to the scratch of his quill and the columns before him until everything else fell away. It was how he had coped with every unwelcome thing for as long as he could remember.
He did not hear the door. He did not hear her cross the room.
He only caught the scent of citrus and lavender a moment before two delicate hands slipped over his eyes from behind.
“Guess who?” The voice was teasing and too close to his ear.
Kenneth froze. All his muscles became stiff. His senses urged him to pull away, and he could if he wanted to, since he was much stronger than she. Still, the warmth of her palms sparked a dangerously familiar ache that had been growing stronger over the days.
“Madeline,” he murmured, his voice coming out more gravelly than he intended. He reached for her wrists. “I am working on this quarter’s accounts. I do not have time for whatever this is.”
“Keep your eyes closed, Kenneth,” she insisted, her thumbs brushing against his eyelids like the softest massage. All his protests were gone by then. “I need you to follow me.”
“I cannot simply leave my work because my wife wishes to play some sort of game in the middle of the afternoon,” he protested, but still kept his eyes closed. His hands were still on her wrists, but he had not pried hers away. “What will the servants think of this?”
“I know you do not really care what the servants think,” she said, her body so close to his.
Her breasts grazed his back. He almost groaned at the feel of them, heavy and enticing.
Oh, he still kept his eyes closed. “Besides, they are occupied with their tasks. Trust me. I will not take up much of your time.”
Kenneth let out a soft growl. He knew he was losing this round, whatever it was. His control completely crumbled as, by closing his eyes, he saw her more vividly in his mind, spread out for him on the dining table. She had been such a feast, one that he should not want to partake in once more.
When he rose, he let go of her wrists. She struggled to reach his eyes this way, but he gently took her hands off his face and showed her they were safely squeezed shut.
Madeline guided him. All he could do now was trust her, following her scent, footsteps, and touch. She led him outdoors until he felt the warm afternoon air on his skin. His nostrils were invaded by the scent of sweet jasmine and roses.
“Are we quite there yet?” he asked, his boots crunching on gravel. Then, the path felt softer. He guessed they were heading for the gardens. Were they about to join Malcolm and the children? “I will hold you accountable if I trip on something, Madeline.”
“You will not,” she replied confidently, although her grip had tightened on his hand, pulling him gently. “A few more steps, Kenneth. No peeking!”
“If Alex or Emily throws a piece of food at me, I swear—”
“Oh, we are quite far from them. You can now open your eyes.”
Kenneth squinted at the sudden blast of sunlight.
They stood on the top of a secluded hill on the edge of the gardens.
Thick willows and high stone walls acted as shields for this spot.
On the green grass was a pink wool blanket.
A wicker basket sat on top of it while two silver platters and two crystal goblets waited to be filled. They glinted under the sunlight.
Madeline had arranged a picnic for the two of them.
Kenneth stared in awe at the scene, suddenly speechless.
When he looked down from where they stood, he could spot Malcolm running without a coat, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he sprinted with the wind, holding the twine attached to a large green kite.
Alexander and Emily ran and jumped, shrieking with happiness.
Kenneth had not heard such joyful laughter from them in a long time.
Usually, they were just troublesome. Even Malcolm looked happy.
The exercise gave him a natural red flush. He appeared sober, even for a moment.
Something bloomed inside Kenneth’s chest. It suspiciously felt like happiness. He did not know what it felt like anymore, but somehow the guilt over Roberta lifted a little. It was not much, but he still felt lighter.
“You made this happen,” he murmured, still focused on Malcolm’s happiness.
“I merely suggested that they make sure the green dragon flies high,” Madeline replied with a smile. She did not seem to take offense at the fact that he had been avoiding her for the last few days. Did it mean that what happened between them did not matter to her as much? He frowned.
“I do believe that Malcolm will soon get back on his feet. He truly loves his children. It will be difficult, but he needs to forget the past and look to the future for their sake,” she said.
Kenneth turned to look at her. Madeline was a beautiful woman, but she dazzled under the sunlight. It was where she belonged.
“Did your father also play with you and your sisters when you were little?” he asked, suddenly desperate to know more about her. “Did he run with you in the garden or make paper kites?”
Madeline’s smile faded, and her eyes took on a distant look. She tracked the children’s movements.
“No. He did not. He never did. But I do not blame him for it. He is who he is, and his mind was always occupied by… by his struggles.”
Kenneth exhaled, stepping closer to Madeline. “It must have been hard for you, Madeline, growing up with a distant father like him.”
He did not have to mention Harleigh’s drinking and gambling. She knew her father better than he ever could.
“Oh, well. I have loving sisters, and Grandmama and Grandpapa have always been kind. Even Grandmama’s scheming comes from a good place,” she replied, turning her head back to look at him.
“I cannot complain since I am still more fortunate than most children who have lost their parents in a different way.”
“Most people in your place would still have every reason to complain, Madeline,” Kenneth said earnestly. He reached out, tucking a stray curl from her cheek. His fingers lingered on her soft skin. “Despite your childhood, you continue to choose happiness. You smile for and at everyone.”
Madeline looked down, as if her slippers had become the most interesting objects nearby.
“I know that my father loves us, despite his drinking, gambling, and absence. His actions have constantly created significant problems for the whole family, especially now that Selina is out in society. A young lady’s first Season can decide what the next few ones will be.
It is hard enough without scandal following her everywhere because of our father.
My grandmama wanted me to marry to help her, but it seems that our papa keeps getting in trouble. ”
“What kind of trouble, Madeline, aside from the obvious one?” Kenneth asked, narrowing his eyes. He did not like the idea of Madeline being plagued by her father’s inadequacies and poor behavior. “Has something new happened that has upset you?”
Madeline chuckled bitterly. She waved a hand as if trying to brush away all her worries.
“Our father owes a horrific amount of money to dangerous men. Because of his inability to pay them, they tossed him directly into the Thames. I know it was a warning.”
“So this had happened because of his debts?” Kenneth asked, clenching his jaw.
“Yes. You may have heard about it, but that was the reason. My sister’s husband, Tristan, had paid off his debts a couple of years ago, but it seems he has managed to grow them again,” Madeline explained.
“Well, Cathy already takes care of his ledgers; she cannot keep paying up for his gambling. I... I am so sorry! This afternoon is supposed to be a time for you to choose leisure over work, and I am making it all dreary for you. But do you at least like your surprise? Are you happy about it?”
Kenneth’s eyes wandered to the feast on the blanket and back to the embarrassed flush on her cheeks.
“You are my wife, Madeline. You should not apologize for such things. I want you to know that you can confide in me,” he assured her.
“No, enough about me. Tell me, are you happy about the picnic? Do you want us to eat?”
“I am content, Madeline,” he reassured her, but his voice came out deeper. More dangerous. “Regarding eating, however... There is something I have been meaning to try ever since you covered my eyes in the study.”
Madeline’s eyes widened eagerly. Her breaths sped up, as evidenced by her heaving bosom, momentarily distracting Kenneth. “What is it?”
“Turn around if you want to find out,” he commanded.
Madeline quickly obeyed without hesitation. She turned her back to him. He reached for her shoulders, guiding her gently down the blanket. He knelt behind her and blindfolded her eyes with his handkerchief.
“W-what are you doing, Kenneth?” she asked.
“It is your turn to put your trust in me,” he replied. “I am going to put food on your tongue, and you will guess what each one is.”
Kenneth initiated a game?
Madeline nearly smiled into the blindfold. This was working. She had set out to make him feel happiness, and here he was—the emotionless man wanted to play. Perhaps the cracks in his walls were spreading faster than she had dared hope.
“I believe myself a good judge of flavor, Your Grace,” she replied. He snorted at that, and she could not help but chuckle. He was thinking of her tart. “You may be disappointed at how well I can guess each food.”