Chapter Sixteen
May 30, 1815
Prentice House
Hanover Square
Mayfair, London
Madeline sat, numb, on a stool in front of her vanity as her maid ran a comb through her wet hair, for she’d just come out of a bath.
The longcase clock on the floor below bellowed out the noon hour, and with each of those chimes, her heart continued to fracture. After that last coupling with Alexander, she didn’t see him again, and an hour later, Anders had found her in the orangery and told her the traveling coach was waiting for her.
With no other options, she had retrieved her belongings, put on her spencer and bonnet, and then entered the coach with plenty of tears and a breaking heart.
Why did she feel the compulsion to save her reprobate brother from his mound of debts as well as his horrid truth becoming gossip fodder for the ton when she could have stayed with the duke? Their time together yesterday had been riddled with high emotion that they were both too frightened or unable to vocalize and share.
But she hadn’t told him what was already being etched on her heart, hadn’t declared that her very soul belonged to him, that she would never feel for anyone else what she did for him. Words didn’t seem adequate for the feelings, and frankly, she’d never had such large and all-encompassing feelings as she did for him, so she’d remained quiet. The moment had passed, their coupling had ended, and with tears on both their parts, he’d left her alone in the orangery, where she’d completely broken down to take refuge in sobs.
Now she was here, at home, with her nuptial ceremony looming on the morrow.
I don’t think I can bear it.
“You seem so sad, Miss Hardesty,” her maid said as she finished combing out Madeline’s tresses. “For a woman who will marry a marquess tomorrow, why are you not all smiles and joyful?”
“I suppose it’s merely nerves.” She refused to meet the maid’s gaze in the looking glass.
The maid nodded. “After losing your previous fiancé, I’m sure you are anxious,” she dropped her voice even though they were the only ones there, “about being bedded and all at such an advanced age.”
Oh, if only she knew!
But since the girl waited for an answer, Madeline nodded. “That must be it. Also, I’m missing my mother.” Her parents should be here to witness her nuptial ceremony. Otherwise, the preparations felt far too cold and not special.
Of course, it could be the groom as well.
“Were you frightened after being kidnapped by that man, that horrible duke?” the maid asked next as she brought over a thin lawn shift. “The household was buzzing for days. I thought I’d be killed when I was ordered to pack you a bag.”
“Yes, I was terrified.” That was the expected response, wasn’t it? And it had been true in the beginning, but after she’d started to know Alexander better, she came to understand him, know what drove him and why. Now here she was, dressing for the afternoon as if nothing in the world was wrong, as if her heart wasn’t breaking anew, as if she were supposed to forget the time she’d spent in his company.
Forget him… but that was never going to happen. He was ingrained upon her brain, her soul, he lived in her veins, he was there with every breath that she took.
“Uh, do you mind if we don’t talk about this? It’s still fresh in my mind, and I just can’t bear to think about it.” As she shook her head, tears filled her eyes, for that wasn’t a lie. The separation from Alexander was one of the most sorrowful times in her life, and she thought she couldn’t have that after losing her fiancé as well as her parents.
“Of course, Miss Hardesty. I apologize.”
In short order, the toilette was complete, and she was properly garbed in a day dress of robin’s egg blue lawn. Then Madeline was left blessedly alone to apparently contemplate her existence, but she tried to keep her thoughts neutral, for if she continued to dwell on the loss of Alexander from her life, she would dissolve into sobs again.
Already, she missed him, was even more desolate knowing she would never see him again. What would become of him? She didn’t much care what happened to her, for she knew that at any time she had the means to escape, but she was very worried about the duke.
When she couldn’t linger in her bedchamber any longer, she wandered down to the drawing room, and as she passed the butler in the corridor, she ordered tea.
“Do you want luncheon along with that, miss?”
“No.” She shook her head. Even though she hadn’t eaten since breakfast yesterday with Alexander’s butler and housekeeper, her appetite had fled. Truth be told, just the thought of tea made her stomach want to rebel, but she needed something in her system, and she was thirsty. “I’m not hungry at the moment. Perhaps a couple pieces of dry toast would be welcome.”
“Of course. Right away.” The man looked at her with pity in his gaze before he left her to her own devices.
Yet the second she entered the drawing room, she caught sight of her brother, and she stifled a sigh. He’d been out when she was returned home last evening, and now she would need to face the consequences of her absence, even if it wasn’t her fault, at least in the beginning.
“Hallo Richard.”
Her brother turned, raked his gaze over her person with contempt, and then shook his head. “It’s about damned time you turned up.”
“Ah, no abject concern about my health or safety or how I might be feeling after the ordeal?” It was almost laughable, all of it, but she couldn’t summon the energy to make jokes. “At least you’re consistent.” With a tired sigh, Madeline collapsed onto a low sofa. “If you’ll recall, I was snatched from my bed, drugged into oblivion, and had no choice in the matter.”
“Were you bound and drugged for five days?”
“No. I was given a room of my own and left to myself most of the time.”
He crossed his arms at his chest. “Was it Ravenhurst who was behind the kidnapping?”
Did that mean no one was quite certain? How interesting. But she was on the defensive, and she wasn’t ready to reveal all to him. “Why did you not hire Bow Street to track me?”
“I didn’t feel it was necessary.”
“Or rather you didn’t think you should go to such expense.” Typical for her brother. When his sister and only living relative was kidnapped and taken into the night, he didn’t care and didn’t want to rack up more expense, especially if it didn’t benefit him. And why should he care? His debts had already been settled by Inglehart. It was just the secret behind his income that needed to be kept, and if she knew her brother, she suspected that he thought if he could find her mother’s ruby, her nest egg as it were, he wouldn’t need to heed Inglehart’s threats.
“What difference does it make? You are home now, and tomorrow you will marry the marquess.”
“Correct on both counts.” Knots of worry pulled in her belly while tears gathered in her throat, tightening it. “According to you, I have no choice.”
Her brother was spared from answering when a footman brought in a silver tea tray and placed it on the low table in front of Madeline. After she nodded her thanks, the footman departed, but Richard was quick to take up the remains of the conversation.
“What did Ravenhurst do to you during the five days you were held captive by him?” His gaze bored into her until she lowered hers to the teapot.
Over the course of her life, she’d had very little reason to lie; it was a necessity now. The time she’d spent with Alexander was hers alone. She wanted to keep the memories intact without her brother tainting them with twisted words and logic. “Nothing. He did nothing except demand my company at dinner or in the library occasionally.” While she spoke, Madeline poured a cup of tea for herself. She didn’t offer any to her brother, and once she put in a small lump of sugar into her cup, she idly stirred the liquid until it dissolved. Then, tapping the silver spoon against the rim, she laid it on the saucer and took an experimental sip of the brew.
“You expect me to believe that Ravenhurst took you captive and all he wanted you for was companionship?” Incredulity rang in Richard’s voice.
“Believe what you want. I answered your question, so please stop drawing attention to what will prove a large scandal if you continue to press.” A megrim was brewing in her temples, and while the tea was lovely enough, she wished she could add a drop or two of brandy for courage.
“Yes, that could be a problem, but since you are marrying on the morrow, it is easily avoided.” He narrowed his eyes. “Inglehart sent a constable to Ravenhurst’s estate in the country. Did you know that?”
“Why should I?” She would pretend she had no idea about the duke’s intentions, and she certainly wouldn’t admit to where she’d been with him.
Or what they’d done together.
“Were you at his country estate in Essex, Maddie?”
“To be honest, I don’t know where I was, for I rarely went outside.” Another lie. What was one more. “I speak the truth when I say he left me to my own devices for much of the time.” She took another sip of tea. “The duke was nothing like I imagined or remembered. He is a man driven by demons he doesn’t show. I don’t know that I blame him for that; his life has been a series of miseries, trials, and horrors, of which I only have been told a few.”
But oh, how powerfully magnificent he is!
“He kidnapped you to brag about himself? Tell you how much better he was than Inglehart?” Richard shoved a hand through his hair. “Did he think to turn your head from your duties, to sway you against marrying the marquess?”
“Yes, in fact.” She nodded and glanced at her brother with a coolness that surprised her. Perhaps she’d learned something beyond the carnal from Alexander after all. “He did try to sway me, said the marquess was the reason his parents were dead, that Inglehart did horrible, contemptible things to the Sutcliffe family, that he was the one behind being tossed into the hold of a navy ship.” With a shrug, she took another sip of tea even as resentment for both her brother and her fiancé burned within her chest. “While I understand that men do horrid things to each other, what I have heard regarding the marquess has turned my stomach, yet you still demand that I go through with this marriage. Where are your protective instincts, brother dear? Shouldn’t you have my safety at heart?”
“How dare you!” Richard sprang across the room to her location, drew back a hand, and then delivered a backhanded slap to her left cheek. The assault was so hard that the teacup and saucer flew out of her hand to fall to the floor and break.
A whimper escaped Madeline’s throat. Pain moved through her cheek and head as tears sprang to her eyes. “How dare you . Whatever Ravenhurst is, he never once laid a hand on me in anger or rage.” Oh, he’d applied manipulation and power, control and mastery, but never had he touched her in anger, never hit her as Richard was so fond of doing. “The duke might be a broken, dark man, but he will always be more than a hundred of you, because his soul, buried beneath layers and years of trauma and horror, is still good.”
Always would she believe that.
Shock reflected on Richard’s face. “Did Ravenhurst sully you? Take your innocence?”
What was another lie? She shot to her feet, stood toe-to-toe with her brother, and she stared him down even though her insides were quaking with fear and her cheek burned from his slap. “The duke never did anything, never took anything, without my consent.” And he didn’t take anything she didn’t willingly give, with the exception of that first night when he brought her to release while she was fighting off the effects of the laudanum. “If you think he raped me, I must disabuse you of that notion. And that is the last I will say about my time in his company.”
Because she would fix those hours in her memory when things grew uncomfortable or frightening in the future, bide her time until she could escape.
From everything.
“And you will marry the marquess on the morrow?”
“Since that is all you care about, yes. I love you, Richard, but you are not a good man. I do this for Papa’s memory and his reputation. If you find trouble now, it is your own problem.”
“Tell me the truth, Maddie. Did Mama or Grandmama give you a fortune they didn’t tell me about? There are rumors in the dark corners of London…”
Ah, so he wasn’t certain. She allowed a small smile. “I will take that secret to the grave, and that is my freedom.” Even if she sold the ruby and took the proceeds with her to the Continent to hide away and begin another life, would he eventually track her, bring the marquess with him, to steal the remainder of the fortune from her?
I am tired of being at the mercy of men.
“Are you saying…?”
“No.” Then she drilled a forefinger into her brother’s chest. “If you ever lay a hand on me in anger again, God help me, I will take matters into my hands, and you will never have the chance to do that to any other woman. Do you understand?” Perhaps she had learned courage from Ravenhurst as well.
Well, bully for me.
Though her brother’s eyes rounded, and the veriest scrap of respect lay shadowed there, he nodded. “I never meant to hurt you.”
“That might be so, but you did. Multiple times without apology or changed behavior.” In the duke’s case, his behavior was on track to change, in various little ways that were encouraging, but she would never be able to see the man he would become. “Fear makes men do terrible things, I’ll wager, throughout history as well as now, but it doesn’t have to, for we all must choose another path, Richard. Be stronger than your fears.”
Could she follow her own advice?
Not giving him a chance to respond, she turned about, strode across the room, and then slipped into the corridor where she fled to the staircase, gaining the third floor before breaking down into tears once more.
Oh, Alexander, how am I to survive without you, when all I want in this life is you?