Chapter Fifteen
Later that afternoon
Alexander declined to don the jacket of blue superfine Akers held up for him.
I am a bloody fool.
This morning, he’d gone out riding in the stupid hope that indulging in such exercise would clear his head. Of course it did not, and what was more, those hours could have been spent in Madeline’s company, but he couldn’t bear to see her for breakfast. So he’d taken himself off to ride the estate. Besides, it was the last time he would be on this land, for once his revenge plot had finally run its course, there would be nothing left for him.
Not after giving her up.
“You are oddly glum today, Your Grace,” his valet mentioned. “I assumed the ride and then the bath would have perked you up a bit.”
“Ha.” He rolled his shirtsleeves up to the elbow, since apparently, he only felt comfortable going about the manor in this state of half dress. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what is happening, Akers. I am out of sorts, and nothing will change that.”
“Haven’t you been that since you returned, and definitely since you arranged for Miss Hardesty’s kidnapping?”
“Perhaps.” By early evening, he would send her back to her brother’s house. His week of revenge was over, and the only thing that had happened was that he felt worse and, even more bothersome, he’d fallen in love with her.
A woman he couldn’t have and shouldn’t want.
“You truly have thrown your hat over the windmill, haven’t you?” The valet cocked an eyebrow as he studied Alexander. “Declare your feelings to her before it’s too late.”
“It is already too late.” He swallowed hard in the hopes of dislodging the ball of emotion from his throat. “She’ll marry Inglehart in two days.”
“Unless you kill him.”
“There is that.” But what the hell did he have to offer her past a crumbling estate here in Essex, a townhouse in London devoid of all life, and empty coffers? For if he used the whole of his savings gained from mercenary operations for repairs on the properties and tenant farms, there would be nothing left. And his reputation had long been shredded to ribbons. “The truth of the matter is that I’m not long for this world either, and I don’t want her to mourn for me.”
“Ah.” Slowly, Akers nodded. “Which explains the temper tantrum you threw last night at dinner when you destroyed much of the dining room.”
Heat seeped up his neck. “What do you know about it?”
“I know you’re frustrated and angry. I know you feel trapped. I now know you’re in love with a woman you won’t have because you think it’s forbidden. And I also know you couldn’t see a good thing if it perched on the tip of your nose.” Annoyance threaded through the other man’s voice. “Frankly, Your Grace, she makes you better, and you deserve to have happiness.”
“I deserve nothing except pain and misery for what I’ve done.”
“Damn it, you were forced to do those things.”
“Not as a mercenary. That was all me.”
Akers huffed. “A handful of bad life choices doesn’t exclude you from good things and doesn’t imprison you from enjoying them.” He narrowed his eyes. “And with a strong woman by your side, who’ll guide you along the path to respectability, more or less.”
“It’s too late,” he repeated in a whisper. “Time is limited.” Then he tugged at the bottom of his gold and sapphire brocade waistcoat. “I’ll just have one last conversation with her and then send Miss Hardesty on her way.”
Because he was too much of a coward to escort her to London himself.
“Very well, but perhaps you’ll finally start thinking clearly once you hit the bottom of whatever pit you’ve dug for yourself.”
“Do shut up, Akers.” So saying, Alexander strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
After stopping by Madeline’s bedchamber and finding her gone but her bag packed and her room tidied, he went searching for her but never succeeded. “Anders!” The demanding call echoed through the entry hall. “Anders! Damn it, man, where the hell are you?” That shout was sent up the grand staircase where a maid startled from the sound.
“What is it, Your Grace?” the butler asked as he trotted along the corridor from the servants’ staircase that was hidden behind a panel of the wall. “Your bellow was heard even belowstairs.” A tiny hint of annoyance rang in his tone.
“Yes, well, when I need you, I expect you to be easy to locate.” If there was more of an angry growl in his voice, he couldn’t help it. This had been a trying week. Actually, five days, so shy of a week, but it didn’t matter. “Where the devil is Miss Hardesty? There are some last-minute details I need to discuss with her.”
Speculation reflected in the butler’s eyes. “One of the maids saw her going toward the orangery.”
“Why? That’s in the part of the manor that isn’t used any longer.”
“I couldn’t say, Your Grace.” Anders shrugged. “But as far as your staff is concerned, we still do regular cleanings in all rooms, regardless of whether they are used or not. Both here and at your townhouse.”
“Oh.” Bloody hell. “I’d wondered why there was no dust or cobwebs in the rooms at the townhouse where the furniture and paintings were shrouded with sheets.”
“Yes, well…” Anders cleared his throat. “We don’t have the choice of neglecting our posts.” One of his eyebrows rose in challenge. “In any event, the maid said that Miss Hardesty seemed distraught and wanted some place private to retreat to before she was scheduled to leave for London.”
“Right.” Alexander nodded even as anticipation coursed through his veins. “Then I will track her to earth there. Thank you. After I’m done talking with her, I’ll come find you to have a traveling coach readied for her. Best have the driver set out soon what with the rain and potential deteriorating road conditions.”
“Of course, Your Grace.”
Without another word, he left the butler and loped through the corridors on the ground level of the manor, with a determination to reach the orangery without appearing too anxious or eager. At the ornately carved wooden door that led to that particular room, he paused, for he hadn’t been down there since before his mother had died.
Where she’d adored tending to her gardens outside, she always said she simply couldn’t exist without having plants around her, so she’d taken over his grandmother’s orangery, and under her care, the space had been transformed into a veritable inside jungle.
The glass wall to one side was at the rear of the manor and welcomed the afternoon sunshine, which encouraged the growth of the plants and flowers inside. However today, it was gloomy and overcast due to rain. Potted ferns, palm trees, fruit trees, ornamental trees, shrubberies, plants, vines, and flowers were arranged over the floor all in various degrees of growth and height.
Clearly, the plants were lovingly tended to by his staff, and he appreciated the hell out of them, for his mother’s legacy lived on in this room. Amidst the greenery, there were groupings of furniture for leisure activities such as reading or taking tea. And against the solid wall, there were two stout oak worktables at the top and bottom of the room for repotting, cutting, clipping, and other such work. He well remembered his mother spending the winter months as well as the mornings in this area, talking to her plants, and he enjoyed being with her for no other reason than to listen to the sound of her voice.
But as he stood there, wrapped in the memories, the scent of rain blended with the aromas of growing things. It guided his steps deeper into the room, and he softly closed the door behind him. Easily, he found the back of the space where Madeline had pulled open two of the glass doors for her penchant of enjoying fresh air. That was one of the things he’d learned about her during her stay with him, and it was adorable.
Then his gaze fell to her where she sat in a rattan chair on a mauve velvet cushion with her legs tucked up beneath the skirting of a fine lawn dress dyed a daffodil hue and embroidered with white daisies on the hem and low, square bodice, which showed her décolletage to perfection. Matching slippers rested nearby on the stone floor. She had an open book in her lap that appeared to have captured her attention. The loose chignon suited her frame, and brown tendrils of hair framed her face and flirted with her jaw and neckline.
How does she not believe she is beautiful?
“Madeline.” Pain squeezed around his heart so acutely that he put a hand to his chest and uttered a soft groan, but that was apparently all she needed, for her head came up, and she gasped when she saw him.
“Alexander. What are you doing here?” Shock mixed with something else in her eyes, something he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—identify.
He cleared his throat, and when words didn’t come, he did it again. “I, uh… I will call for the traveling coach soon. Is there anything else you need for the journey?”
“No.” The one-word answer was laden with emotion. “Mrs. Duvall and Cook packed me a basket, not that the journey will be long, unless the rain has wrecked the roads.”
“Very good.” What a damned coward he was to stand there in front of her with words sitting on the tip of his tongue that he refused to say. Not that it would make a difference if he did. “Well, then, I suppose there is naught to do but wish you a good day.”
She nodded, but the unmistakable sheen of tears was evident in her eyes, making the mossy green depths luminous. “Thank you. To you as well.”
Do something, man, else you’ll lose her!
Unfortunately, he’d already lost her from the moment she’d told him she intended to still go through with the marriage to save her brother and defend her father’s posthumous reputation. That didn’t make it less maddening. With a tight chest, he uttered a huff. “I refuse to let you leave while things between us remain broken.”
Her eyes flashed. “Whose fault it that? You showed yourself for an arse last night.”
“I had good reason.”
“You did not.” She shook her head. “Many of us have things from our pasts that don’t sit well, but that is not an excuse for us to turn into snarling, snapping beasts who destroy china and furniture, and say unkind things.”
As much as he wanted to lash out with words that would wound and hurt her as he was hurting, Alexander tamped down on the urge. This wasn’t the time, and he didn’t wish for her to remember him like that. “Perhaps that was an error in judgment, but I did warn you that I am not a good man.”
“Poppycock. You are, but you are not brave enough to embrace it.” When she transferred her gaze to the book in her lap, it hid the flash of fire in her eyes. “If you are quite done with this conversation, I should attend to the remainder of my packing.” She closed the book with a sharp snap.
Bloody, bloody hell.
“You and I both know your packing is done.” When she didn’t answer, he huffed out his annoyance or perhaps frustration. “Look at me.” So he could memorize those moss green depths and give himself permission to drown in them in the final couple of nights when he could dream.
“Another command, hmm?” Finally, she raised her gaze. Moisture glinted there; her eyes were luminous, and a few tendrils of hair lay against her cheeks; she had never been more beautiful. “Oh, Alexander, will you not leave? It makes our parting that much more difficult.” She drew in a shuddering breath. “Besides, we should at least try to practice proper deportment.”
Was she mad? He snorted. “Haven’t these past five days shown you that I don’t give one whit about being proper? That I care not about what society thinks of me?”
“There is always the hope you might change.”
“I won’t, but then you already know that too.” As did he. But that wasn’t what he wanted to say, damn it. If she were indeed happy with her choice, perhaps he could walk away, nurse his heart that was on the verge of shattering, drown the pain in brandy and laudanum, and then wait for death. “Are you certain you wish to leave?”
“I must.” Yet a tear fell to her cheek. “And you have your own duties to attend.” She sniffled. “Now that you have come back to England, you can finally become the duke you were destined to be.”
“Perhaps that was never what fate had in mind for me.” Alexander spat out the words. “However, if it is, there is a certainty I’ll be a pauper. What kind of life is that?”
“At least you will still be in this world.” She shook her head, her eyes stricken, tears shimmering there, ready to fall. “I want you to be happy, for you deserve that after everything.”
Damn, how much more pain could he abide? His chest was so tight he could barely breathe. “I’m not sure of that, but our paths won’t cross, will they?” And he would never know what became of her… if he chose to hold off on his plans.
“I rather doubt they will. Inglehart wants to remove to his country estate immediately after the nuptial ceremony.”
“Ah.” Fucking hell. Inglehart’s estate was near Cornwall. Not only would he never see her again, but if the marquess wished to murder her, no one would ever find her body.
“From what my brother said, it sounds like a lovely acreage.” Another tear fell, lingered on her scar, before dropping onto her hands that were clenched in her hap. “My wedding him is the best I could hope for, looking like I do, and with my brother’s horrid secret hanging in the balance, to say nothing of his mountain of debt.”
If he was hiding his truth behind anger and fear, she was hiding hers behind perceived flaws with her appearance. “It’s a piss-poor excuse.” Every one of those crystal drops shattered him. They swept into his soul and rubbed him raw. And he couldn’t stand being separated from her another second. Alexander pounced. He gripped her upper arms, forcing her to look into his eyes. “The marquess is not who you deserve.”
“Who do I deserve then?” Her moisture-spiked lashes framed green eyes full of emotions, but dare he hope they were the same ones battering his insides?
Or was that wishful thinking?
Me. Tell me that you would pick me if you had the chance, that I mean something to you, that you’ll look past my rotten soul, that you’ll never forget me.
Perhaps he’d used up his bravery at some point during the past twenty years. Instead of saying any of that, he remained silent while screaming inside.
“You have nothing to say, then?”
“Not anything that will make these last moments tolerable.” Why shouldn’t he just spirit her off, perhaps to his neglected hunting box in the north, where they could live off the land and under assumed names merely in an effort to be together?
“Well, then.” Madeline shook her head. The delicate tendons of her throat worked with a hard swallow. “This is what our lives are, Alexander. It’s the reality both you and I knew we had to eventually face, regardless of your plan of revenge.” Her voice broke. She spent a few seconds composing herself, and it was the most pitiful thing he’d ever borne witness to because he wanted to comfort her, but he knew the moment he touched her like that, he wouldn’t be able to let her go. “But I will say this. What we shared… What you opened my eyes to, it has been… That is to say, I—”
“Bloody hell.” He couldn’t stand to see her in distress or fumbling over words, especially not when her abject sadness mirrored his own. I’m about to lose her. Regardless of what was blooming in his heart, etching itself over his very soul, he was terrified that if he spoke, she would reject him out of some misplaced sense of honor or responsibility. Without her to help him through the maelstrom of emotions, he was lost.
I will always be lost, and she will never be mine.
“Madeline…” His heart broke all over again without her to help him glue his pieces back together, without her to peer into his dark soul and give him a tiny flare of light. Unable to bear one more second apart from her, Alexander took hold of her hands and roughly pulled her into a standing position. Their time together was rapidly vanishing. “I need to give you a proper goodbye.” For so many years he’d only thought of revenge and now there was something else to think about, someone else, and with her arrival, she’d shown him that he could have hope. Oddly, that appealed to his battered self, but it glimmered just out of his reach… and he couldn’t grasp it because he refused to let go of his bitterness and revenge.
Just as she’d said.
“Good.” She nodded, and temporarily bit her bottom lip. “I wanted to tell you that too but couldn’t gather courage. I didn’t want to become a watering pot in front of you, but here I am anyway.” She stood there, peering up at him, a mixture of hope and desperation in her eyes. “Please know that I wish for every good thing for you, and wish that you live well—”
“Hellfire and damnation.” It was torture, this trying to be polite when all along, he wanted to rail at the heavens, implore the fates to untangle the threads. Alexander took her into his arms and kissed her soundly. It was a hard and unyielding embrace, and he needed so much more from her. “Remember me, Maddie. Never forget, not one moment we were together, not the reason why,” he said between kisses that not only set his blood aflame but also threw him atop the funeral pyre of their unconventional and quite forbidden relationship. It was pure folly, but he needed her like a drowning man needed air.
If only to prolong the pain.
“I could never forget you. I’ll keep you in my mind to fixate on when my marriage grows troubled.” She returned his kisses with her customary enthusiasm; he’d taught her that. This was not a woman who regretted what she’d done, even if he’d forced it all upon her in those first days. Soon, she was as breathless as he.
And he couldn’t give her up. Not to another man, and certainly not to that blackheart who killed his parents.
There was only one choice, and he was damned certain he’d take it.
If he was a gentleman, he’d let her go and exit the room, putting an end to their association, and sending her immediately on her way. But he’d never been quite sane when Madeline was involved, and he never claimed to be a gentleman.
“How can I let you go without fucking you one last time so that you won’t think of him when he beds you?” Desperate, terrified, completely lost, Alexander propelled her through the room, through the growing things and all the flora his mother loved, until a worktable prohibited further movement. “I want you.” Nay, I need you. In all the ways that matter. He dropped her arse upon the table. Potted plants, flowers, and gardening tools tumbled from the tabletop and crashed to the floor. He never paused in his quest to claim her mouth as pieces of the crockery flew against his boots. When her legs naturally splayed, he settled between them, shoving himself so close that their bodies rubbed against each other, and he cupped her face in his hands as he set out to kiss her senseless.
One more taste, one more drink, one more time…
So he wouldn’t forget, so he would have the courage to do what he must.
The lemon and vanilla scent for her further stoked his passion. “I can’t fathom this place without your presence” he said between kissing her sweet mouth.
“There is so much here I didn’t have a chance to explore.” She slid her fingers through the hair at his nape, infinitesimally holding him closer.
Did she mean the property or him?
Then it didn’t matter, for after this they would no longer be together, regardless of how that had come about. Desperate for the connection, Alexander claimed her, treated her to deep, drugging kisses he hoped would imprint his very essence into her brain, layer his soul to hers. But even that tactile embrace wasn’t enough. He wanted all of her, needed to be with her, so he snatched her off the table and maneuvered her between two grown fig trees. As her back connected with the wall, he continued to kiss her.
Amidst the growing things, she was everything a lush goddess should be, and she seemed so natural in this environment. In the course of one week, she had shown her bravery and courage, her strength and determination, her optimism in the face of less than pleasant circumstances, never backing down when he was at his worst. What would he do without that unwavering spirit, without her moral compass, without her encouragement, her belief that he wasn’t the horror, a mistake of a person? Without her argument that he wasn’t a wad of darkness, undeserving of life?
Again and again, he drank from her, tasted her, took away her tears, made certain she’d keep his memory alive and etched upon the very chambers of her heart, told himself this last parting would be enough to see him through. And she kissed him back with a wildness that was exhilarating. When that contact didn’t settle the abject panic in his soul, Alexander slid his hands to her thighs and hefted her up. God, he adored her curves, the way her body responded to his touch. Propped against the wall, her center aligned with his insistent erection, and he groaned as she wrapped her legs around his waist.
He’d taught her about everything carnal. He was the one who should be enjoying this woman into their twilight years.
But she belonged to the marquess. Even in this, Inglehart would destroy him.
His heart broke again, into finer pieces than it previously had, for this was the last time he’d ever see her, hold her, kiss her, love her. I can’t think about that right now else I’ll go mad. After manipulating the laces at the back of her yellow dress, he yanked down the bodice, buried his face between her soft breasts, palmed them, fondled those quivering globes, suckled the nipples until she moaned and squirmed against him.
Oh, it would be so easy to lose himself in her and never look back, take her away to somewhere they’d both never been and start over, but she was adamant she save her brother. They had other lives…
Why won’t she save me?
“Alexander, please. I need to know I made a difference in your life even if you put our relationship into motion due to revenge.” Madeline panted, twined her arms about his shoulders and whispered into his ear. “I want to know if I ever meant more to you than just that.”
Oh, God. “Of course you did.” Hot tears rose in his throat; they cut off his words. Verbal communication wasn’t his strong suit, neither was wading through the heartbreak of something that might be love if he gave himself time to truly think about it, nurture it. So, he did what he knew would show her the depth of his feeling. Alexander kissed her as if she held the last drop of water and he wanted it. “You mean…”
Damn, what a nodcock he was. Fear held him back, for what if after everything, he lost her too?
I’m losing her now!
When that wasn’t enough to tell her what was on his mind—his soul—he delved a hand between them, fought through yards of soft fabric to find his frontfalls. After wrenching the panel from its buttons, he guided his prick in search of her center.
When the head of his member bumped her wet opening and she moaned with the same need coursing through him, he didn’t hesitate. He thrust once and deeply until he was fully seated in her honeyed heat, and he died a thousand deaths to know this was the final time he would ever claim her body. “Ah, Madeline…”
“You feel so good.” The whispered admission stole his breath. Her eyes shuttered closed, but she wriggled into a more comfortable position and held him tight. “In many ways I wish…” But she didn’t finish the thought.
It was too much to hope, for he had given that up as necessity.
The light brown arcs of her lashes against her pale cheeks almost leveled him. With a half-cry, half-groan, he pushed into her with long, powerful strokes. Being joined with her was too much, and he would break apart soon, but he hoarded this time with her, for he was selfish after all. His thrusts grew more frantic. Harder, deeper, faster he moved his hips, seeking to be one with her, for then she might not leave him. She might utter an admission so his would be easier. Madeline bucked her hips in time to his frantic movements, and for a few seconds, their breathing, their coupling, aligned and everything was perfect.
“God, I need so much more than this.” Emotion graveled his voice; despair lurked in the background, waiting to hold him captive as he withdrew from her body only for the moment.
She uttered a soft protest. “We haven’t finished.”
“I know.” Were they talking of the fuck or a lifetime? Alexander carried her through the maze of plants and trees, and when he reached a low sofa with a high, wooden back, he laid her on the blue and gold brocade cushions then followed her down. “I need so much more of you.”
A lifetime, in fact, but for him, that timeline was growing rapidly short.
She twined her arms around him, met him with shivering kisses that stole his breath, and when he speared into her body once more, they both sighed from the sheer bliss of it. “Oh, Alex, I…” Again, she didn’t finish the thought, but she claimed his lips and kissed him as if these were her last moments.
Perhaps they were, in this lifetime.
To stave off sobs, he moved his hips, going at a leisurely pace so they could both enjoy and savor this last coupling. Each time he stroked into her, and she met him with canted hips, he died a thousand deaths. This time, he didn’t wish to teach her a lesson or punish her with carnal exercise or even join with her because he could. Oh, no, this time he made love to her and worshipped her because he adored her, and he’d only realized it when it was much too late.
As they worked together to reach that final goal, it was as if his soul had been slowly restored, all because of this woman who didn’t believe she was worth enough within society, that she didn’t have a choice except to marry his sworn enemy.
In the end, she wasn’t his, perhaps never had been, and he didn’t have the right to be with her.
Because he’d chosen revenge.
Because he was a coward.
As a sob rose in his throat, raw sensation raced through Alexander’s shaft. His stones pulled tight to his body and before he was ready, he fell over the edge into bliss the same time she did. Her soft, whimpering cries of completion warmed his ear while she collapsed into him, clinging to his neck as if he might disappear.
“What am I to do, remembering you and knowing you are forever gone, seeing only you when I must lie with another man?” Her whispered words were so low he could have imagined them, but her quiet sobs completely destroyed him.
Was that it, then? She would only think of him fondly for what he’d done to her body and the world he’d opened for her these past several days? There were no soft feelings, no deeper connection? Or perhaps she was just as big a coward as he. It was the devil of a conundrum.
As his breathing returned to normal and he maneuvered onto his side, Alexander held her tightly against his chest, telling her with his body what he couldn’t with his words. Never did he want to let her go, but they couldn’t remain here, for they had duties to fulfil.
Just as they’d always had.
Soft sobbing came from her, but he continued to hold her, silently supporting her, giving her comfort even as his own eyes filled with moisture. They lay together for a long time while the sound of the rain filtered into the room.
Eventually, he released her. Seconds later, he left the sofa, and as he stuffed his flaccid shaft into his breeches, he did up the buttons. Tears streaked her face, those same signs of despair that threatened to erupt from him soon if he didn’t flee. “Goodbye, Madeline.” He dropped a kiss to her forehead before she struggled up from the sofa. “I wish you a good life and much happiness if you can find that.”
A cry that sounded like “no” emerged from her tears. She cupped his cheek, and he reveled in that parting touch. “Promise me that you will be the best man you are capable of being, that you will do something with your title that will bring you joy, that will give you back a sense of pride and satisfaction that you’ve missed over the years.” She pressed her trembling, kiss-swollen lips together as she held his gaze.
“I don’t know if I can promise that.” His days were numbered, after all, and he had one more thing he needed to do before he could claim that eternal rest. But he one burning question continued to plague him. “After everything your brother did to you, after everything you know Inglehart will do, you would still marry the marquess?”
Her body shook from a tremor as she set her bodice to rights. Then she peered up into his eyes and everything was bared to him until he was drowning. There were no secrets with her, yet he couldn’t discern the only thing he wanted to see in those green depths. “What wouldn’t you do for the ones you love, Alexander? Richard is my brother, and I love him.”
Why can’t you love me too?
“Right.” He was beginning to suspect he would do anything.
For her.
No matter what.
Oh, dear God, why does this hurt so damned much? He couldn’t take it any longer. “Goodbye, Madeline.” With a strangled sob, Alexander fled the orangery.
Could anything change his path or hers? Only time would tell.