Chapter 1 #2
Rosina was correct that the man was quite handsome. And anything he’d heard about her was questionable at best. He surely had heard tales of the jilted spinster who might have become his sister-in-law if the Earl of Ravensworth wasn’t such an arse.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace,” Maddie replied, curtsying with perfect form to avoid any chastising remarks from her mother.
“James will suffice,” he said, grinning at her. “You are a family friend, after all.”
“But—”
“It’s best not to argue with him on this point,” Rosina said, effectively cutting Maddie off as she looped her arm with her husband’s. “He will only correct you every time.”
It was highly improper and irregular to refer to a duke by his given name, but dukes frequently made their own rules. And who was she to argue? Even if her mother was likely to begin fanning herself, even in the winter chill.
“Very well . . . James,” Maddie said, trying the name on her tongue. It still felt odd and made her wonder again what things might have been like if she and John had married and the people before her had become her family.
Stop it, Maddie.
“Why don’t we get you both settled into your chambers,” Rosina suggested, “and then it shall be time for supper soon.”
The duke and duchess led them back to the house, and then Rosina motioned for a servant to escort Maddie and her mother upstairs. Maddie was thankful for the opportunity to have a moment’s reprieve to be alone with her thoughts.
Over an hour later, after she’d rested and changed for supper, she made her way down to the drawing room where the other guests were gathering. The space hummed with conversation, laughter, and the occasional practiced giggle.
Maddie’s mother had already busied herself with friends, undoubtedly telling all of them she expected Maddie would be the Viscountess Ashworth very soon. A decision that Maddie herself hadn’t made, but the reasons against it were fewer than the reasons to consider it, she supposed.
She took a glass of sherry from a passing footman, scanning the room for Louis. At least she wouldn’t have to face the house party alone, as he should have arrived by now.
Just as she was about to take a sip from her glass, a stir from the other guests caught her attention.
She spun to see what the fuss was about, and then .
. . she saw him. The full glass of sherry slipped from her hand.
It crashed onto the polished wood floor and shattered, sending shards of glass and crimson liquid everywhere.
No. The universe was playing the cruelest joke imaginable. The gods were laughing at her, taking bets on what would happen next and what she would do. After years without seeing him in the flesh, there he was. John.
They immediately locked eyes with each other as a servant rushed to her feet to clean up the mess, but Maddie couldn’t tear her gaze from John.
Five years. Five fucking years since he had disappeared.
They had made love the night before, and in hindsight, she should have known it was an act of goodbye.
He had been acting strangely, had even appeared melancholy, but she attributed it to his grief over his friend’s death. Not that he would leave her. Fool.
She wished she hadn’t noticed that he was devastatingly handsome—even more so than in her memories.
And she hated that her body still responded to him as though no time had passed.
Yet rage was still the emotion bubbling closest to the surface, even as he looked at her with an expression that set her heart racing.
Remorse, perhaps? Regret? But it was too little, too late for that.
Maddie forced herself to look away, shifting her focus to the servant at her feet while her pulse thundered in her ears.
“I am so sorry,” she said, noticing her mother nearby with her lips pursed, watching the scene with barely concealed horror.
“No worries, my lady,” the footman replied. “It appears nothing got on your dress, at least.”
Just another way the universe had been unkind.
If she had soiled her gown, she would have had an excuse to escape the room, and then perhaps she’d run from the house entirely.
Polly likely hadn’t unpacked everything yet, so she could still have her trunk loaded right back into the carriage and be on her way.
As she plotted her escape, Rosina took her arm and pulled her to a quiet corner.
“Please don’t be angry,” Rosina said, pleading with her. “I knew there was a slight chance he would show, but when he didn’t respond to my invitation, I assumed he wouldn’t be here. And then he arrived shortly after you did.”
“But you intended for both of us to be here?” Maddie asked, accusation lacing her tone.
Rosina patted her arm and gave her a small smile that did nothing to soothe Maddie’s sense of betrayal. “I think it would do you both some good to face what happened. And neither of you were going to do so without a push.”
Tears welled in the corners of Maddie’s eyes. “I should be quite cross with you. You had no right to manipulate us that way. You only invited me here because of him, not because of our claimed friendship.”
“No,” Rosina said, shaking her head. “I do want you and my brother to find closure, but I truly have missed you. And I know I was no help back then. To either of you. I was a mess after Ryan’s passing. And I didn’t see the challenges that John faced. Then, after he left, no one was there for you.”
“Louis was there for me,” Maddie ground out. “And I have nothing to say to your brother.”
Rosina gripped Maddie’s hand. “Please. Just keep an open mind this week. If nothing else, allow the both of us to reconnect. The house is bursting with people, so you can continue to avoid John if that is what you wish.”
Somehow Maddie’s life had become far more complicated than just deciding if she was going to marry the friend she sometimes had sex with. Now she had to face the torment of her past while residing under the same roof with the very man who had shattered her heart.
“Fine,” she huffed. “Besides, we both know there is no way that Mama is going to allow us to depart.”
“I had counted on that,” Rosina said, scrunching her nose. “But I truly believe this shall be good for both of you.”
Maddie wasn’t convinced. Not in the slightest.
“And what do I get if you are wrong?”
Rosina laughed, squeezing her hand. “I’ll think of something suitable.”
The dinner bell sounded through the room, and for once Maddie welcomed the interruption—it would spare her from facing John before she was ready. Hopefully that bell might follow her about for the entire week.
Once seated at the supper table, she was at least thankful that her meddling hostess had been kind enough not to seat them near each other. John was beside his sister, while Maddie was at the other end of the table. But the man was still in her sights, and that made him far too close.
“Are you all right, Maddie?” Louis whispered from beside her. “Did you know he would be here?”
“No,” she said tersely, not looking at him, instead casting a sidelong glance to where John sat. He spoke to Rosina, but as far as she could tell, his expression remained emotionless and unreadable.
That shouldn’t be a surprise. It would take the worst kind of heartless bastard to do what he had done.
“Do you need me to do anything?” Louis asked, finding her hand under the table.
The gesture felt far too intimate, especially while the only man she’d ever truly loved sat feet away.
Which was laughable, considering the lines she and Louis had crossed in private.
But they didn’t hold hands, and they certainly didn’t kiss, not on the lips anyway.
Their arrangement was one of friendship and climaxes. That was all.
She shook her head and casually pulled her hand away to reach for her wine glass. “I just need time to think. Please talk about something else. Anything else.”
Louis nodded in understanding and started speaking about something his beloved dog had done.
In truth, Maddie wasn’t even listening. She was still far too aware of John’s presence—a gravitational force that threatened to pull her back into his orbit after five years of finding it far easier to hate that he’d ever existed to her.
As soon as dinner ended, she hurried from the room with the other ladies. She had limited time before the men would join them after enjoying their port.
One thing was certain: she wasn’t ready to speak with him. She needed time to think and prepare what she would say. She never expected to see him again, yet she’d played out all the ways she would give him a scathing set-down if their paths ever crossed.
Now that it had become reality, her entire world was upside down, and she didn’t know which way was up.
She wanted to plant the arse a deserved facer, but she also couldn’t stop thinking about his full lips and the way his sapphire eyes had held hers across the room.
Which obviously meant she couldn’t be trusted to say anything rational to the man.
She made polite conversation with the other women and downed another glass of sherry while no one was looking. After she felt she’d socialized enough, she found her mother.
“Mama,” Maddie started. “I’m quite exhausted after the day’s travel. I am going to retire early tonight.”
Her mother cast her a knowing glance. For a moment, she thought her mother might argue, but to her surprise, she nodded. “I shall see you at breakfast.”
It wasn’t a question but a command, indicating that she wouldn’t be allowed to hide in her chamber for the duration of the house party. There went that plan.
Nodding in agreement, Maddie hurried off before anyone else could engage her in conversation. She had to escape before the men joined them. If she could just buy herself a bit more time to prepare, to fortify her defenses against John’s presence, it would make her better equipped to face him.
She reached the door and thought she heard someone call her name. Glancing back over her shoulder, she kept moving forward. But she crashed into something firm. Something masculine and familiar.
Two hands clasped her arms, steadying her, and she looked up, meeting sad sapphire blue eyes. Eyes that often had been full of life and mischief before Ryan had become sick and died.
John released her and raked his fingers through his thick, dark hair. Hair that she used to love to tangle around her fingers when they kissed.
Get it to-fucking-gether, Maddie.
She did not want to speak to him. Not yet. Not like this. She needed to run—sprint to the stairs and reach her chamber before he could say anything.
“Maddie,” he said, her name emerging as a whisper, stopping her before she could make good on her escape.
Damn it. Bloody hell.
Why in the fuck were the gods toying with her so cruelly? Hadn’t she suffered enough?