Chapter 8
ALEXANDER
“Are you well, my lord?” Madeleine whispered.
“I am fine. Do not fret so,” I assured her.
The footman reappeared, handing me one of my walking sticks.
I stepped from the carriage gingerly, pleased at how much better my foot felt.
I turned, holding out my hand for Madeleine to assist her in stepping down.
She did so, and I marveled at how tiny she was next to me.
She reached to my chest, and I felt the incredible draw of wanting to wrap my arms around her, rest my chin on her dark hair, and breathe her in.
While seated close in the carriage, her light scent of lilacs had been constant.
I found it pleasant and thought how it suited her.
She stared past me in wonder at my estate, and I followed her gaze, smiling at the look of delight on her lovely face.
“Come,” I said, tugging on her hand and placing it into the crook of my arm. “I am anxious to show you my home.”
“It is wondrous, my lord.”
We made our way to the door, the steps making me grateful for the support of the walking stick. Mrs. Dougall, my housekeeper, waited, patient but worried for me. “My lord, are you well?”
I waved her off. “A simple sprain.” I paused, suddenly at a loss for words. How did I explain my unexpected guest? I decided brevity was the best solution.
“Mrs. Dougall, may I present Miss Madeleine Smythe? She will be staying with us.”
She gave Madeleine a kind smile. “Welcome to Wheaton.”
Madeleine returned her smile with a small bob and a murmured thank you.
I resisted the temptation to tell her that she bowed to no one, but I decided to let it go for now.
She was nervous and worried. I could see her hand twisting and grasping at her too-large gown, her unease evident in the tightness of her voice and the tension in her shoulders.
“Kindly show her to her room,” I asked.
“Very good, my lord.”
I allowed Madeleine to walk in ahead of me, pausing as Mrs. Dougall asked me a question.
“Which room shall I prepare?”
I withheld telling her that Madeleine would be taking over the marchioness room next to mine. “The rose room. I believe she would enjoy a bath and some quiet time. Once you have settled her, please see me in my study. I have much to discuss with you.”
“Of course. And Mr. Warwick?”
“Is behind a day or two. Knight was hurt and required a rest.” I rubbed my eyes. “And he will be bringing other guests.”
She only nodded, not asking who or any other questions. “I will attend to it all.”
“Thank you.”
Two hours later, I was in my study, surrounded by the warm familiarity of being home.
I had always preferred Wheaton to town. The quiet to the bustle of London.
The aroma of fresh air and good earth to the cloying scent of the crowded ballrooms and unpleasant smell of the city.
Too many bodies crammed together, producing too much noise and odor for my taste.
My valet wrapped my foot, his work quick and efficient.
I missed the gentle touch of Madeleine’s hands on my skin, but before we separated in the lower hallway, she had pressed her small jar of liniment into my hand, instructing me to use it every few hours.
Jones had added some before he bandaged the injured limb, but it was far rougher treatment than I had received earlier from Madeleine.
A knock on my door paused my thoughts, and I called for the person to enter, not surprised to see Mrs. Dougall come in. She carried a tray, setting it on the desk.
“I thought you might be in need of some food, my lord.”
“Thank you for your thoughtfulness.”
“I took a tray to the little mistress as well.”
I was amused at her words. That was how Geraldine described her. “How is she faring?”
She pursed her lips. “Might I speak plainly, my lord?”
“Please do.”
“Confused and bewildered. She thought I had taken her to the wrong room. She believed she should be in the servants’ quarters, but I assured her she was in the right place.
When the bath was ready, I offered to help, but she insisted she was fine.
I had the feeling the bath was an unexpected treat for her. ”
“She is, ah, not used to being offered help or nicer things.”
“I thought as much.”
“Mrs. Dougall, I know this is unorthodox, but Miss Smythe has been in a situation in which I could not leave her. I brought her with me, planning on taking her to a new placement in London, but I have changed my mind.”
“Do you wish me to take her under my wing?”
I sighed. “No, I find her delightful and intriguing. She was raised as a lady and deserves to be one.” I met her eyes. “I intend to make her one. As my wife.”
Her eyebrows lifted in surprise, but she said nothing. I liked that about my housekeeper. Nothing shocked her, and she was always ready to aid me.
“It will happen quickly.”
“I shall air out the marchioness’s room in preparation.”
“Please. I will let her change it in any fashion she wishes once we are wed. It requires some refurbishment, I believe.”
“It was done over not long ago, but we can make any changes she wishes.”
“And Mr. Warwick will be bringing a young lady who will be her lady’s maid. And an older woman—is there a situation here you can fit her into? Something not too strenuous?”
“Of course.”
“Miss Smythe has come from unusual and trying circumstances. She is easily spooked and is fearful of the world around her. I will endeavor to help ease her back into society, but we will be staying here for the foreseeable future.”
She looked sympathetic. “How sad for her.”
“Her life was frightful. She was forced to be a servant in her own home and mistreated. I could not leave her there.”
“You are a good man, my lord.”
“You have always been biased.”
She shook her head, looking sad. “And you will reside in London?”
“No, I plan to make this our home.”
Those words cheered her up. “You have always preferred your time at Wheaton.”
“I have.”
She hesitated. “My lord, the young lady informed me she would stay in her room unless you summoned her and she wouldn’t require dinner.”
I frowned. “Of course she needs dinner.”
Mrs. Dougall met my confused gaze. “She stated she cannot attend your table dressed worse than a servant, my lord. That was what she said to me.” Her eyes shone with sympathy.
“She was so ashamed. It hurt my heart to hear her confession. And knowing some of what she has been through, I feel it even more deeply.”
“She has nothing,” I stated, thinking of the small case she had brought and hating the fact that Madeleine had been made to feel less. “I need to aid her but am unsure how.”
“Perhaps, if you are amenable, I can go to the village and see if the dressmaker has anything suitable. A simple gown perhaps that would fit her.”
“Yes,” I agreed eagerly. “Anything you see that you feel would be appropriate. I will settle the account tomorrow when I am able to move a bit easier. Purchase whatever you think is best.”
She stood. “I shall, my lord.” She paused. “And I believe you will be happy with your decision, if I might be so bold as to state my thoughts.”
I chuckled at her directness. I had known her for most of my life, and she often stated her thoughts, whether or not I wished to hear them.
“One last thing—she may have questions. About me. Feel free to answer.”
“My lord?”
“She knows nothing of me. The person I am. She will undoubtedly need some of her worries laid to rest. You would be the person she might ask. I give you leave to tell her your thoughts on my, ah, character,” I said with a small smirk.
“I shall indeed,” she replied with a lift of her eyebrow.
“I shall tell her how you muck in the fields and track dirt across my freshly washed floors. That you roam around without a proper cravat.” Her tone softened.
“That you treat your servants and tenants with a respect and kindness that very few men of your station would ever think to do. I will tell her how respected and well thought of you are—despite these minor unconventional behaviors you have.”
I chuckled at her speech. I was rather eccentric, but I believed life was short and should be enjoyed. And if one could not do so in their own home, where could they? Besides, she knew I was fond of her, and she felt the same of me. I had no qualms in letting her speak to Madeleine.
“Thank you, Mrs. Dougall.”
She departed, and I leaned back in my chair. Once I convinced Madeleine to join me for dinner, I would have a greater task to convince her to marry me. I was only hoping that she, too, would be happy with my decision.