Chapter 10
MADELEINE
Iran my gloved hand along the beautiful chestnut mare’s muzzle. The air was cool and damp in the stables this morning. But the familiar scents of hay, horse, and saddle leather filled me with a sense of deep contentment, chasing any discomfort from the cold swirling about my new nankeen boots.
At Lord Wheaton’s request, I was dressed in my Pomona green riding habit, a jaunty hat that had been procured from the village milliner upon my head.
The hats had been sent up at Mrs. Dougall’s request, and like the gowns she had managed to obtain on my behalf, I had fallen in love with each one.
Choosing which to wear this morning had been its own gift in a sea of so many that I was beginning to become overwhelmed.
“Do you think she will suit as your mount?”
I turned to find the marquess looming over me, an expression of concern on his countenance that matched the fretting tone of his voice. He truly wanted to please me, and the knowledge never failed to astound me. No one had gone to such an effort on my behalf since my mother had been alive.
I had to blink at the stinging rush of tears, tamping down grief I had never truly allowed myself to feel as the young girl who had lost her only champion at such a tender age.
I forced a bright smile for his lordship’s benefit, not wanting to explain the sudden rush of sadness. “She is gentle and calm, and yet I see a sparkle of mischief in her eyes. I think she and I shall get along nicely.”
“I was hoping the two of you would make friends. Empress is just as you have described her. Capable, gentle, and calm. But she also has a bit of fire within her. She is soft and sweet when she wishes to be, but she has a will of steel. You are a well-matched pair, I think.”
His words warmed me, as did the honest appreciation reflected in his dark gaze.
But I couldn’t shake the feeling that I wasn’t worthy of his esteem.
Despite his reassurance in the garden, I was terrified that Lord Wheaton would come to his senses and change his mind.
That he would realize he didn't wish to marry a woman who was too far beneath him and send me to London as he had originally intended instead.
I averted my gaze back to Empress, who was looking at me trustingly as I continued to stroke her muzzle, wishing I might feel the velvet-smoothness of her coat beneath my fingertips.
“I’m afraid I haven’t any fire in me, my lord, nor a will of steel. If I had, I would have burned Cliffwood to ash instead of meekly obeying my father.”
Lord Wheaton stepped nearer, bringing his scent, familiar and tempting above the smells of the stables.
“I saw it myself in the carriage,” he said quietly, “when you were finally free to speak your mind. You are strong and determined, or else you could not have possibly endured. And you can neither blame nor judge yourself for the machinations of a cruel man. You were but a child when your father forced you into a life of servitude.”
I shook my head. “You are far too intent upon seeing the best in me, and why, I cannot begin to fathom.”
The mare nudged my palm gently.
“Because you deserve it, Madeline. Empress is an excellent judge of character, as am I.” He moved forward until he stood at my side, his towering presence a source of comfort rather than intimidation.
I never felt the need to cower or fear for myself in his presence. His broad shoulders, impressive height, and strong form had only been used to protect me. To show me gentleness.
I slanted another glance in his direction.
His long hair was pulled back into a queue at his nape, his head covered by a dashing hat.
His riding breeches and boots showed off his muscular calves and horseman’s thighs.
Goodness, what was I doing, ogling his lordship?
New heat crept up my throat, scalding my cheeks. I hoped he hadn’t noticed.
“Thank you,” I said simply, seeking to distract myself.
His eyebrows rose. “For being honest?”
“For inviting me to ride with you. I hadn’t realized how much I missed riding until the opportunity was granted me once more.”
“You needn’t thank me, my dear. As my marchioness, you can have your choice of horses and ride as often or as little as you like.”
I gave Empress another fond stroke. “You are far too generous, my lord.”
“Let me be,” he said, reaching for me and briefly caressing my cheek, the soft leather of his glove brushing against my heated skin for a fleeting instant.
“Why?” I whispered, afraid to ask the question, yet needing to know the answer.
“Because it makes me happy to do so.” His hand fell away. “And because you deserve it.”
He shifted again, putting a proper amount of distance between us just as the groom who had brought Empress to us returned. Lord Wheaton must have heard the young man approaching.
“Miss Smythe has settled upon Empress as her mount,” the marquess announced to the groom. “Please have her saddled and brought to us, along with Lightning for myself.”
The young man tugged at his forelock. “Yes, my lord.”
I still felt woefully inadequate, and yet as the marquess led me from the stables where we could wait for our mounts to be brought to us, for the first time, the life he promised me felt within my reach.
Everything I wore was new and fine. I was betrothed to a marquess.
I was no longer a servant in my father’s household, forced to bend to his every whim.
The sun was even emerging from the clouds overhead, and birds were calling.
The fresh scent of mown grass and turned earth greeted me.
The day seemed alive with possibility. It had been so long since I had last sat upon a horse that I wasn’t certain I could ride with the poise I had once possessed. But I yearned to try.
“You are quiet,” Lord Wheaton observed at my side. “Tell me, what are you thinking?”
I met and held his probing gaze. “That I am thrilled for the chance to ride, my lord.”
He smiled, and my breath caught. “Hearing so pleases me more than I can say. I want to show you more of my estate and what it has to offer. Fortunately, the weather looks as if it shall hold for us.”
“There’s no need for that.”
Good heavens, he was already giving me more than I had dreamed possible for myself—a home, a husband, a family of my own.
He frowned. “A groom will accompany us at a proper distance for propriety’s sake, if that is what concerns you. Although the nature of our engagement is rather unusual, I’ll not have a word of scandal breathed about you.”
His words sent a trickle of some indefinable emotion through me. “I thank you for that, but what I meant was that you hardly need to persuade me to marry you by showing me your estate. I’ve already agreed to become your wife.”
“Of course you have,” he agreed smoothly, “but won’t you allow me an excuse to spend more time in your delightful company?”
“Is that what you are truly about, my lord?”
“Without question.”
A smile twitched at my own lips, and my heart felt lighter than it had in as long as I could remember. “Then I suppose I must allow it as your future marchioness.”
“Indeed,” he said with mock sternness, “you really must. In fact, as your future husband, I insist upon it.”
Another flutter of something wonderful and terrifying went through me. The Marquess of Wheaton could be quite charming when he wished to be. How easy it would be to fall in love with him.
The grooms emerged from the stables before either of us could say another word, and we spent the next few hours riding across the farms, fields, and woods of his estate. By the time we returned, I was sore and tired and a trifle chilled, but my heart had never been happier.
ALEXANDER
Two days later, Edward strode into my study, his coat swinging behind him. I stood to greet him, surprised and pleased to see him so soon.
“Edward.” I clasped his hand and shook it firmly. “How fare you?”
“Excellent, my lord.”
“And what of Knight?”
“He is in the stable being rubbed down and his own groom attending him.”
“I did not yet expect to see you so soon.” I indicated the chair in front of my desk. “Sit and tell me all.”
“Knight’s leg healed well enough to travel slowly. Lydia and I started out very early and arrived a short time ago. She handled Knight well.”
My eyebrows rose in surprise. “Lydia?”
“She grew up on a farm and is an excellent horsewoman. We went slowly, and her weight is so slight it was as if Knight was carrying nothing at all. He liked her.”
“Ah. And Geraldine?”
“Is being driven by the groom. They will arrive later, and he will spend the night and return tomorrow. I knew you would prefer to get Knight here as quickly as possible.”
“Excellent decision.”
“I also assumed you would be wanting to take Miss Smythe on to London. Have you received word from Beckett?”
“Ah.” I rose and poured us each a measure of scotch. I handed him a glass and perched on the edge of the desk. “There has been a change of plans. I have written to Beckett, but she will not be going to London.”
“She is to stay here, then? As a maid?”
I cleared my throat, took a sip of my scotch, and met his eyes. “As my wife.”
For a moment, there was silence. He blinked, looked around, then met my gaze, his confused. “I beg your pardon, my lord. I thought you said you were marrying the chit.”
“That chit is about to be my marchioness, so watch your tongue,” I rebuked him mildly. I knew he was confused. Hell, it was my idea, and I was still confused.
“Forgive me.”
“Of course. I know it was surprise that colored your words.”
“Marry her?”
“I met with the parish bishop earlier today and obtained a common license. We’ll be marrying in the parish church seven days from now.”
“My lord, I have no doubt she is lovely, but marriage? So quickly?”
I sighed and sat back down in my chair. I told him of our conversations. How she tended to me. How fascinated I found myself with her.
“It solves so many issues. I like her, Edward. I find her interesting and highly intelligent. I believe she will be a good wife and an excellent marchioness. Despite everything, she is kind and thoughtful. Gentle. She reminds me in some ways of my mother. She will stand by my side. Bear my children.” I shook my head.
“I cannot abide the thought of spending time with the empty-headed chits in London. Listen as their mamas push them in my direction, citing their talents like virtues as they scheme to outdo another interested party. Dream of my money and name.” I shuddered. “Last season was almost my undoing.”
“You lasted three days, my lord, and left town. The ladies of the ton were most aggrieved.”
“I was most relieved.”
He chuckled.
“Miss Smythe is different from them all. I enjoy conversing with her. The servants already love her and are anxious to welcome her as their mistress. As am I.”
He looked thoughtful then nodded. “Then let me be the first to offer congratulations. I wish you all the best.”
“Thank you.” I tapped my thumb on the desktop as I gathered my thoughts.
“She is still fearful and wary. I hope now that Lydia is here, she will settle. I think when Geraldine arrives, the familiarity of a beloved face will help soothe her nerves as well.”
“You will be a good husband, my lord.”
“I intend to be. In that vein, I have written Beckett, requesting his wife’s help with a wardrobe for Madeleine. I explained we are to be married and require her help. I expect a swift reply.”
“She would need direction, I should presume. Measurements?” he asked, his brow furrowed. “Lydia would be able to do that.”
“I described her well, I think. Enough that Constance should be able to begin the preparations. I am not concerned.”
“You’ve thought of everything, it would seem.”
“I believe I have.”
“And this has all transpired in a matter of mere days,” Edward added. “You’re certain you wish to marry her?”
I could not find fault with my friend for his concern. I’d had no intention of marrying any time soon when we parted during the journey back to Wheaton. It was not like me, but I also couldn’t deny the rightness that existed between Madeleine and myself.
“I can see what you’re thinking, and let me reassure you that I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”