Chapter Twelve
May 28, 1815
Madeline had been perusing and then reading in Ravenhurst’s library that afternoon when he finally found her.
“There you are.”
She glanced up from the book she’d been browsing. “I thought to make use of your library while I can before I leave, and since you were walking the property, I didn’t wish to just lay about with nothing to do.”
“Ah.” As he nodded, the duke came into the room, and almost immediately his presence seemed to fill the space. “Do you wish for company right now?”
“If you are talking about you, then absolutely.”
It had been quite a bizarre week. First being kidnapped and accosted by his unwanted attentions, then being taken by him with her dubious consent, and quickly followed by couplings that she’d looked forward to as well as participated in with enthusiasm. And now, he would soon take her back to London as if this week together had meant nothing.
Perhaps it hadn’t, and it was simply a part of his revenge against Inglehart, just as he’d said. Except, for her, it had been a completion of a dream she’d persisted in having in her young girl heart. Of course it wouldn’t continue into her life now, but she would forever cherish the memories gained from this week, regardless of why they had happened.
“Who else is there?” he said with some amusement in his voice. “Unless you’d like for me to summon Anders? An unlikely match there between you and my butler, but if that is what you want…”
“Do hush, Alexander.” But she smiled to herself. The longer she was with him, the more his sense of humor came out. “While your butler is a good man, I don’t crave his company.”
“Mmm.” When he reached the sofa where she resided, the scent of his cologne wafted to her nose and wrapped around her like a needy wraith. “Do you enjoy dancing, Miss Hardesty?”
What an odd question. “I learned all the steps to popular dances in finishing school, and I’ve had a few Seasons, but dancing was never something I particularly enjoyed. Mostly because the men who partnered me usually didn’t do it of their own free will. They were usually encouraged by someone else, in an effort to dance with the pleasantly plump young lady, and then later, when I attained my scar, it was even more difficult to find willing partners.”
“Just as I suspected.” He stared down at her with speculation in his sapphire eyes then he held out a hand. “Come with me.”
“Where?”
A huff escaped him. “Just, for once, follow orders without questioning them.”
“Why?” she asked as she set aside her book and then slipped her fingers into his palm.
As soon as he closed his hand around hers, the duke tugged Madeline to her feet. “I want to show you the ballroom.”
Excitement buzzed at the base of her spine. “Again, I’ll ask why.” This wasn’t the behavior of a man who’d kidnapped a woman to use her in carnal games that would end in revenge against his enemy.
“Boredom?” With a shrug, he escorted her out of the room. As they went through the corridors, he remained silent, and when they went into the other half of the manor that she’d not yet explored due to time and his supervision, he held tighter to her hand. “The ballroom is through here. It opens out onto the back terrace that flows into the gardens.”
“When I walked through those gardens, I couldn’t help but wonder why you haven’t had all of them restored. The blooms will prove beautiful soon.”
“I…” He cleared his throat. “Some of them belonged to my mother. In my youth, no one except her tended to those beds. It seems sacrilegious to have anyone in them now.”
“But don’t you think if they were weeded and had the soil refreshed that the blooms which are your mother’s legacy will flourish so much brighter?” When she tried to pull him to a halt, he refused and continued along the corridor at a fast clip. “It would be a way to honor your mother’s memory, and one you could see each time you glanced out the windows or visited the gardens.”
“I shall think about your suggestion.”
If she were staying on indefinitely, she would go toe to toe with him for a chance to take charge of the flower gardens. They were too important for him to leave unattended or for nature to take over. Then they arrived at the ballroom where the double doors had been thrown open. At the back of the room, the drapes that usually covered the French-paned glass doors on that side of the room had been opened and the sunlight streamed in to highlight the dust-covered parquet flooring. In the middle of the ceiling, a spectacular crystal chandelier hung, the various pieces of it still glimmering even through the dust and cobwebs.
“You never use this room.” It wasn’t a question.
“Considering that I’ve only recently come back to England? No.” Not releasing her hand, he guided her into the large room. “The last time I was in this space was shortly before I was spirited away by Inglehart. My mother had thrown a ball that July in the hopes I might meet an eligible lady and give her a promise before continuing at university.”
“Did you connect with any of those women?” Her chest tightened. “If so, perhaps they are widows now and you could try to rekindle those sparks.” Or perhaps they secretly nursed tendres for him that they wished would come to life.
“I don’t remember; it’s been such a long time.” The duke shook his head. “The only thing I do recall is that I didn’t want to attend. I argued with my mother, for all I wished to do was prowl about with my friends.” His swallow was audible. “I regret those words.”
Poor man. She squeezed his fingers. “I’m sure your mother didn’t take it personally. She knew you loved her.”
“I should have said it more than I did, but my father always cautioned that men shouldn’t show emotions, especially ones who would be dukes.” With another word, he drew her onto the dance floor, positioning her beneath the chandelier. “Initially, I struggled with that concept, but the Navy beats that out of a man.”
“Is that why you find it more difficult to show that emotion now?” From what she’d observed from him, he kept too much control over his feelings. Sooner or later, he would explode with them.
“Perhaps, but I don’t wish to talk about that.” He maneuvered her into position, for apparently, he wanted to dance a waltz. “The moment is for dancing.”
“Why, though? You aren’t exactly the sort who enjoys doing such exercise.” More to the point, he was a man of action, a man of harsh rules for himself and others around him. He was a man who expected to be obeyed, but never on a dance floor.
“I thought you might like such a thing today, and after the way you listened to me last night, I wanted to return the favor for you.” Then he set them into motion. “Continental waltz, if you please.”
Oh, dear. Could she remember the steps of the dance? Then there wasn’t a need for any of it, for Alexander guided her over the floor, and in his strong, sure arms, everything fell out of her head. His leading in the dance was as forceful as everything else in life, and far too soon it felt as if her feet no longer touched the ground; it was as easy and carefree as flying. How was it that the duke was so elegant and light guiding her about the room, but in other times he was hard and unyielding?
“Tell me how you acquired your scar, Maddie.”
His use of the shortened version of her name had trembles moving through her heart. “Um, you won’t like it.”
“There are many things I don’t like, but that doesn’t make them less true.” As his eyes bored in hers and the blue pools were so inviting, she shivered. “Tell me the story.”
“All right.” The skirts of her ivory dress trimmed with green, embroidered vines, twisted and swirled about her legs and his, and as they moved over the floor, their passage stirred up balls of dust. How lovely it was to dance with a partner who she didn’t need to guard her words from or have her toes stepped upon.
“Shortly after my parents died, Richard had a difficult time coming to terms with everything. He was never a fine gentleman as my father had been, and he was angry that he had to take up the viscount title so soon, for we had both expected Papa to live much longer.”
“I can understand that.” Alexander’s hold on her hand and hip never wavered.
She nodded. “I think Richard was sad too beneath that anger, but he hid it, and then the vices came quickly when he realized he had access to the family finances.”
“Many men fall victim to that.”
“They do, and Richard never recovered. A few months later, my fiancé died, and I was beside myself with grief along with my brother draining the coffers.”
“Both would be quite a strain.”
“Yes.” She sighed. “I questioned him about it, for he’d taken to coming home early in the mornings reeking of brandy and cigar smoke, and often in a foul mood because gambling didn’t go well.” She squealed when he twirled her as they conquered a turn on the floor. Where had he learned his theatrics? “During one of those encounters, he was not in the mood for being chastised. He took up a vase, held the high neck, and smashed the vessel part against the fireplace in the drawing room. Then he attacked me, brandishing the remainder still in his hand. No matter how much I darted away, he came at me, and when he finally cornered me, he jabbed the broken vase’s neck at me. Though I shied away, the jagged edges caught my cheek, resulting in this wound that left a scar behind due to its length and breadth.”
Slowly, Alexander drew her to a halt. “Your own brother injured you?” Horror reflected in his expression.
“He did.”
“Did he show remorse?”
“Not immediately. In fact, he said it was my fault for needling him.” She shrugged. “It took nearly six weeks for the wound to heal, but months for the scabbing to go away, and many more months for the area not to look angry and red.” As she spoke, Madeline lifted a hand to her cheek, felt the silvery scarring with a fingertip. “Eventually, he apologized, but I think that was only because men in the ton refused to take a chance on me with the scar.”
“Nodcocks and idiots, all.”
“You are sweet, but we both know the beau monde demands perfection, and I am not it.”
“If it will make you happy, I shall happily dispatch your brother the same time I end Inglehart’s life. What is one more death?” The look in his eye said he was deadly serious.
Her heartbeat accelerated, and tingles of fear played down her spine. “That isn’t necessary. I have made my peace with it.”
“You shouldn’t have been treated like that, and then additionally, he demands that you marry a blackguard to settle his debts.”
Beneath her fingers, his muscles tensed. Madeline tsked her tongue. “Stop. You aren’t that man any longer.”
“I appreciate the support, but I am, sadly. And I am skilled at it.”
“That doesn’t mean you should continue in that vein. You don’t need to merely survive now.” Why couldn’t he understand? For a distraction, she changed the subject. “What of your scars? I’ve glimpsed quite the network on your back and abdomen.”
Slowly, and because he was skilled in seduction, the duke walked her over the floor until the wall at her back prevented further perambulation. “Every last one of them was acquired during battles in the damned war against Napoleon. That simply will not end.” He held her head between his palms, easily threaded his fingers into her hair and dislodged the pins. “Whether by a bayonet’s blade, a pistol’s ball, a knife, a white-hot poker, or some other weapon, the French tried their best to snuff out my life. After that it was pirates, and following that were the men I hunted down as a mercenary.”
“But none of them succeeded in killing you. Survival is quite a powerful motivator.” Though she wanted to hear the stories, she was content enough just to have him standing before her, larger than life. “You survived.”
For long moments, he held her gaze while her pulse hammered, and her breath came in shallow pants. “You never fail to prove yourself unexpected,” he murmured, right before he pressed her against the wall and kissed her.
With the embrace, he didn’t push for more, merely moved over her lips with gentle kisses, nibbles, and licks. It opened a world of possibility for her, and Madeline slipped her hands up his chest to twine her hands about his shoulders. This man had many personalities and sides, much like a precious gem, but it only made him more interesting and all the more intriguing. That he could show such tenderness and caring yet become the disaffected and frightening duke who had no morals at the blink of an eye stole her breath.
Which man would he ultimately become once his plans for revenge were over?
Oh, please choose wisely, Your Grace. You have so much to offer the world.
When he eventually eased away, she drew a shivery breath. “I want you to do something for me.”
She snorted. “Haven’t I done enough and everything you’ve asked?” What sort of woman did it make her that she still would do his bidding, at least until he packed her off to London?
When he offered a slightly lopsided grin, her heart fluttered. “Yes, but this is for you.” With that, he grabbed one of her hands.
“I beg your pardon?” Why was he so confusing?
His eyes sparkled with mischief. “Come with me.”
Again, Madeline was awash in confusion and perhaps fondness, but she kept pace with him as he led her upstairs on the same side of the manor house to an unused music room, for clearly it had once been that. Dust sheets were draped over chairs, a pianoforte, a harp, but the sun shone through the windows and the view of the back lawn was breathtaking. From this angle, even more of the rear gardens were seen.
She turned to face him. “Why did you bring me here?”
The duke shrugged. “I would like for you to sing for me.”
Shock went through her chest. “What?”
“I heard you that day by the stream. Your voice and talent are incredible. Sing for me here, in a proper venue. Pretend you’re on a stage in London singing for the king or the regent.” A half sheepish expression crossed his handsome face. “My mind needs quieting, for my past is crashing against my future, while at the same time, my present is so thin it will break and let the storm converge.” That longing she occasionally spied had returned to his eyes, and it tugged at her heart.
“All right.” When it came right down to the truth, he was broken and afraid just like everyone else, but perhaps he was even more so, and he didn’t know what to do about it. As much as she wished to put her arms around him in comfort, she didn’t dare, for she was already becoming too close to him, and they only had just over one day left with each other.
Needing a distraction from her thoughts as well as him, Madeline made her way onto the slightly raised stage at the rear of the room that was perhaps elevated by two feet so the whole of the room could better see a performer.
She first warmed up her voice by doing a series of scales, then, as the duke watched, she sang him another aria from a popular opera it seemed they both enjoyed. After gaining confidence from that and the rush that music always brought, she next sang him a Christmas carol she most enjoyed singing during the holiday times, though it had been quite a while. Finally, because her spirit soared with freedom and happiness merely by doing what she loved for a man she thought more fondly of than she should, she sang him a lullaby that had been popular years ago when she was a girl.
By the time she finished, the duke had collapsed into a sheet-covered chair, and he was openly and unashamedly weeping. It was the second time she’d witnessed this behavior from him, and while it was refreshing, she was also concerned. Had her singing been that terrible? “Alexander?” With a tight chest, Madeline left the stage, but the second she reached his location, he sprang to his feet, took her into his arms, and simply held her tight. “Was it that bad, then?” she asked in a soft voice with the intent to joke.
“No, no, all three songs were lovely. The words, your voice, touched my soul, and I can’t explain it otherwise, but I am feeling… cleansed.”
“That’s all to the good, isn’t it? You are letting yourself feel your emotions and square with them to leave more room for other things.” There was something so luxurious being held by him with no expectation other than comfort or perhaps support.
“Yes.” As if his knees would no longer support him, Alexander sank to the floor. He pulled her down with him. “What are you doing to me? Before I met you, I was never like this, never cared to have feelings other than anger and bitter resolve.” When he scooted backward to rest against the wall of the stage, she did the same, and once more he held her while the storm he was temporarily lost in was spent.
When he ceased to shake and sob, she patted his chest. “Are you well now?”
“I think so.” The duke nodded. Finally, he met her gaze and wiped the moisture from his cheeks with his handkerchief. “I apologize for the weakness.”
“Showing emotion isn’t a weakness, Your Grace. It only means you have been strong for far too long and needed to break for a moment.”
“Perhaps.” He drew in a deep breath then let it ease slowly out. “My mother used to sing that song when I was a boy. In fact, there was a time when I couldn’t go to sleep without hearing it, and even when she was out at a society event, the moment she returned, she would come into my room and sing that lullaby. I was in dream land in seconds.” A shuddering sigh escaped him. “I miss my parents, Madeline. I never had the chance to tell them goodbye or that I loved them. It haunts me, and grief hits at odd times in erratic waves.”
“There are no rules for grief; we just make room for it in our hearts because we will never forget the ones who have gone before us.”
“It’s hell being left behind and having that guilt because of it.”
“I agree,” she admitted in a whisper as tears crowded her own throat. “We always wonder about it. In fact, we wonder about the future and what will happen through the fear and tasks we wish we didn’t have to uphold.”
“The only thing that makes the survival better is distraction.”
Before she could form a rebuttal, Alexander had her once more in his arms, kissing her, encouraging her to lie upon the floor. The embrace was gentle at first, but as was his wont, he was a powerful force that wouldn’t be denied. In next to no time, the bodice of her day dress was tugged down. Then his lips, tongue, and hands were seemingly everywhere.
Immediately, she was lost in the glory that was the duke, and every new touch brought shivering pleasure and further pushed her down that slippery slope into the greatest folly of her life. When he shoved up her skirting and sought out that swollen bud at her center, his handling was a bit frantic and rough, but he was at the mercy of his emotions, and he wasn’t skilled in navigating them with words. Not that she particularly cared, because she wanted that emotional release, that outlet from the fear and uncertainty that only a physical joining would give. And doing so with this man was far too addictive. That first fall into release was quick and unexpected, but her cry was slightly muffled as she buried her face in the crook of his shoulder.
This time, she felt far bolder than she ever had before. It was Madeline who manipulated his front falls, and when his aroused member tumbled into her palm, she curled her fingers around the hot, heavy length then stroked him gently in the hopes of sending him into a frenzy of need. How delightful it was that his reaction was swift; his moans and gasps were like a different kind of music to her ears, and the power she gained from being able to guide his pleasure was magnificent.
“When did you become such a minx?” He chuckled as he spread her thighs wide and settled himself in the cradle of her bent knees.
“It must be the company I’ve be keeping,” she whispered back, and when he thrust into her body with all the raw finesse and power she expected from him, a gasp left her throat while sensations swamped her.
“There are worse things.” Then he moved, worked to claim her body as if a man possessed.
Deeper, harder, faster, this coupling would go quickly, but different from before, he maintained eye contact with her the whole time. When he grabbed one of her legs and encouraged it upward into the air, she moaned her approval, for the new position filled her even more and she really did think he touched her soul and allowed his to mingle there during that brief spiritual connection between them.
And it was all-consuming.
Before she was ready, Madeline fell over that edge into bliss, or rather she was flung into it, pushed from a high cliff, tossed through the heavens and wave after wave of pleasure smacked into her in that void where sound and light were absent for a few seconds. Ravenhurst followed her into that intense world, and for a few seconds they lay together on that floor, limbs wrapped around each other, chests heaving, perspiration rendering their skin dewy, but there was one definitive change to this coupling.
They shared a genuine connection for the first time, and it was as if jagged pieces of her heart had been stolen and replaced by equally jagged pieces of his. It wasn’t a perfect fit, of course, but oddly enough, it was comfortable enough as if it were always meant to happen.
And it was beyond shocking if also comforting. How could she simply walk away from him and marry someone else when she suspected that everything she was or could ever be depended on this man?
Again, hiding her face in the crook of his shoulder, she stifled a sob. It simply couldn’t be contemplated just now.