Chapter 14 #5
They were interrupted by the company members who came rushing to the scene, having heard the gunshot as they worked in other parts of the theater.
“Mr. Scott—”
“What happened?”
“Who is that, and why—”
“Some bastard tried to shoot Mr. Scott!”
Logan crouched by Andrew once more. “It was an accident. No harm was done. Gather up Lord Drake and have him sent to my home, in my carriage. And be careful with him. He’s ill.”
“Stinking bloody soused is what he is,” some-one muttered as they obeyed his directives.
Logan threw a hard glance at Madeline. “He’ll stay in our guest quarters. Do you have any objections?”
She shook her head briefly, her face suddenly infused with scarlet. “Why bother to ask? You’ve made it clear that my opinion means nothing to you.”
She sounded and looked different than he had ever seen her. Without thinking, he placed a hand on her back to guide her from the stage, and she jerked away from him. It was the first time she had ever rejected his touch.
“I don’t need your help,” Madeline said stiffly.
“All I need from you is the one thing you’re determined never to give.
” She walked away before he could reply, her spine rigid with an anger that disconcerted him.
Had he ever seen her angry before? Damn her for making him feel somehow that he was in the wrong, when she was the one who had put herself in danger!
There was silence between them on the way home.
Once there, Andrew slept soundly as the servants assisted Logan in assuring that he was clean and comfortable in the guest quarters.
After sharing a hasty supper with Madeline, Logan prepared to return to the Capital for the scheduled performance that evening.
“Will you be all right?” he asked her tersely. “I can send for one of your family or friends to keep you company while I’m gone—”
“I’ll be fine,” she replied, not meeting his eyes. “The servants will be here if I require anything, and I don’t expect Lord Drake will awaken before tomorrow.”
“If he does, don’t go near him.”
“Very well. When will you notify Lord Rochester that his son is still alive?”
“I’ll let Andrew make that decision when he’s able.” He stared at her assessingly. “Go to bed early. You’ve had a shock today. You need to rest.”
“You needn’t be concerned,” Madeline said coolly, determined to match his brusqueness with her own. “The baby is fine.”
Scowling, he left without another word.
Madeline tried to summon her usual patience, remembering the wrong she had done him, her vow to earn his love slowly over time…
but instead she experienced a new burst of anger.
It seemed that her love and patience had gotten her nowhere.
If this was how Logan wanted things between them, so be it!
She was tired of being a martyr, tired of waiting and hoping.
Clenching her fists, she went upstairs for a lengthy bath, hoping to soak away her tension in the hot, scented water.
Before retiring, Madeline went to her bedroom window and pushed the velvet curtain aside to glance out at the formal garden and the guest quarters in the other wing of the house. There was a light in the window of Lord Drake’s room, and a flicker of movement within.
Lord Drake was awake, she surmised with a frown.
No doubt he was guilt-ridden, drunk, and in pain.
Madeline thought of ignoring the light in the window and letting him suffer alone.
After what he had done that day, threatening her husband’s life, he didn’t deserve compassion.
Moreover, Logan’s edict to stay away from him still rang in her ears.
On the other hand, she wasn’t a child or a servant to be ordered about. She was an adult, with the right to follow the promptings of her own conscience. Troubled, she rang for her maid and went to her armoire.
The maid appeared in a minute or two. “Yes, Mrs. Scott?” she asked, seeming perplexed by the sight of Madeline pulling a day gown from the armoire.
“Please help me change.” Madeline said. “I believe Lord Drake is awake. If so, I would like to speak with him.”
“But Mrs. Scott, the master told everyone—”
“Yes, he made his wishes clear. But there’s no need to worry. I will be perfectly safe, as I intend to have someone accompany me to his quarters.
“Yes, Mrs. Scott,” the maid said doubtfully. “Though I don’t think the master will be happy once he hears of this.”
As it was, Madeline was escorted to the guest quarters by a footman, Mrs. Beecham, and the butler, all of whom made their disapproval quite clear. “There’s no need for such a crowd,” Madeline protested, but they were determined to protect her from a man they considered dangerous.
Lord Drake was rummaging through the cabinets of a mahogany sideboard in the guest parlor when they arrived. Swaying unsteadily, blinking like a child who had been awakened too soon, he stared at the four of them, his bloodshot gaze fastening on Madeline’s small face.
She was amazed by the contrast between his usual appearance and the way he looked now.
The mocking, carefree degenerate had been replaced by a stranger with matted hair and a sickly gray complexion.
He had dressed himself in the fresh clothes that had been set out for him: a pair of trousers, a shirt, and a vest that had been tailored for Logan’s leaner frame.
Buttons and fabric strained to contain his bloated waistline.
“If it’s alcohol you’re looking for,” Madeline said softly, “Logan made certain that it was removed from the guest rooms. Would you like me to send for coffee?”
He gave her a look of horrified shame and seemed to slink to the corner of the room. “Please go,” he muttered. “I can’t bear to face you. What I did today—”
“You weren’t yourself,” she replied, her earlier condemnation changing to pity.
“Oh, I was,” he assured her. “That was definitely me, cowardly raving bastard that I am.” He shook his head as Madeline instructed the footman to bring coffee and sandwiches. “Don’t send for anything. I’ll be gone within the hour.”
“You must stay, Lord Drake. For my husband’s sake.”
There was a humorous twitch at the corner of his mouth. “I’m sure you don’t want him to be deprived of the pleasure of beating me to a pulp.”
“You know him better than that,” she said quietly, sitting in an armchair while Mrs. Beecham and the butler lit the lamps and stirred the fire. “Do sit and talk to me, Lord Drake.”
He complied reluctantly, half-sitting, half-collapsing in a chair near the fire and resting his disheveled head in his hands.
Eventually coffee was brought, and Lord Drake downed three cups of the bitter brew, seeming to gain a measure of lucidity.
When it seemed that there was no apparent danger from him, the servants acceded to Madeline’s murmured request and withdrew to the next room.
Lord Drake spoke before Madeline was able.
“I’d been drinking for three days straight before the water-party,” he mumbled.
“I was half-crazed with fear, knowing that some bastards I owed a fortune to had put a price on my head. I had devised some idiotic scheme to make it look as if I had drowned, hoping that would throw them off the trail for a while. After my ruse succeeded, I disguised myself in order to play at a gambling-hell on the east side. It was there that I heard the gossip about Logan. Everyone was talking about it, that he was Rochester’s bastard son.
I went insane. I’ve never felt such hatred as I did in that moment. ”
“Toward Logan?” Madeline asked, bewildered.
The dark, disheveled head moved in a weary nod.
“Yes…although most of it was directed at my father. Between the two of them, they’ve made me into a fraud.
Logan was the first son, and I took his place.
I was given the life he should have had…
and it was always bloody obvious that he was the better man.
Look at what he’s made of himself. I’ve always compared myself to him and come off lacking, but at least I could comfort myself with the knowledge that I had the Drake blood flowing through my veins. Now it seems he has that too.”
“You are Lord Rochester’s only legitimate heir,” Madeline said. “Nothing will change that.”
Lord Drake wrapped his fingers around the delicate china cup and clasped it until Madeline feared the porcelain might crack.
“But it should be Logan, don’t you see? Instead he got nothing.
Worse than nothing. My God, you couldn’t know how he lived, the punishment he took at Jennings’s hands, the countless days he went cold and hungry. While I lived in the mansion nearby—”
“You couldn’t have done anything to change that,” Madeline interrupted softly.
“My father could have—and knowing that is pure hell. I can’t stand being his son.
And I can’t stand having Logan as my brother, when all I’ve done is take from him since the day I was born.
” He stood up from his chair and set the china cup aside with hands that shook.
“The only thing I can do for Logan in return is to make certain he never sets eyes on me again.”
“You’re wrong.” Madeline remained in her chair, staring at him with a clear gaze that seemed to pin him in place.
Her voice trembled with conviction. “At least have the courage to face Logan tomorrow. I think in his heart he believes that everyone he cares about will leave him eventually. If you have any brotherly feeling for Logan, you’ll stay and find a way to help him come to terms with the past. He’ll never be at peace unless you do.
You’re the only link that Logan has to Lord Rochester.
I don’t believe he’ll ever come to love or even like Lord Rochester, but he must learn to accept that he is his father. ”
“And you think I can do that for him?” Lord Drake inquired with a sardonic laugh that sounded startlingly like Logan’s. “Good God, I can’t even do it for myself.”
“Then you’ll have to help each other,” Madeline replied stubbornly.
Lord Drake sat down again, chuckling unsteadily. “There’s more to you than meets the eye, isn’t there? You’re a persistent little wench—but I suppose you would have to be, married to my brother.”
They shared a gaze of silent amusement until they became aware of a large, shadowy form in the doorway. Logan…his face contorted, his voice hoarse as he spoke to Madeline. “Get out of here.”
Madeline blinked in confusion. “I was merely talking to Lord Drake—”
“I told you to stay away from him. Is it too much to ask you to obey the simplest instructions?”
“Look here,” Lord Drake said, sounding weary and bitterly amused, “nothing illicit has occurred, Jimmy. Don’t blame your wife for something that happened long before you met her.”
Logan ignored him and stared coldly at Madeline. “In the future, madam, you will not interfere in matters that are none of your business.”
Something inside her seemed to wither. For months she had deliberately left herself vulnerable to him, tried to earn his affection by giving him the best of herself…
and it hadn’t been enough. She was tired of trying and failing, repeatedly losing and gaining the same ground.
She stood and replied without emotion. “Very well. I won’t be a burden to you any longer.
From now on you’re welcome to your privacy—as much of it as you want. ” She left the room without a glance.
Logan took his gaze from the empty doorway and sent Andrew a glance rife with hatred. “If you laid one filthy finger on her—”
“My God,” Andrew said, shaking his head, “you can’t possibly think I’m capable of seducing your wife—or any woman, for that matter—in this condition. I have more pressing matters to worry about. Besides, she wouldn’t tolerate my advances. She’s not like Olivia.”
“I’ll kill you if I ever find you alone with her again.”
“You’re a bigger fool than I am,” Andrew observed, sitting and rubbing his aching head. “I didn’t think it possible, but you are. You’ve actually found a woman who loves you, though I can’t fathom how or why, and you have no damn idea of how to react.”
Logan regarded him icily. “You’re drunk, Andrew.”
“Of course I am. It’s the only time I can bring myself to tell the truth.”
“I’ll be damned if I’ll discuss my wife with you.”
“You’re damned anyway, brother—you’re a Drake.
Eventually you’ll manage to drive away everyone who cares about you.
The Drakes are solitary creatures. We destroy anyone who dares to get too close.
We have contempt for the poor idiots who try to love us.
It happened to your mother, and it’s happening now to your wife. ”
Logan stared at his half brother in stunned silence. Denial seethed inside him. “I’m not like him,” he said in a raw whisper.
“How many people have you sacrificed because of your ambition? How many have you kept at arm’s length until they drifted away?
You’ve convinced yourself that you’re more comfortable alone.
Life is damned safe and convenient that way, isn’t it?
You’ve been cursed with an amazing autonomy, Jimmy—just like Rochester and me.
” He smiled bleakly at whatever it was he saw in Logan’s eyes.
“Do you want to hear something strange? She asked me to help you.”
“Help me?” Logan heard himself ask incredulously. “I’m not the one who needs help.”
“That’s a debatable point,” Andrew mocked, laboring to produce a smile. “Let’s talk in the morning, brother…I’m damned exhausted and drunk. In the meanwhile, you might consider going to your wife and begging her not to leave you.”