Chapter 3
“Release my nephew at once, or I shall deliver you to the authorities,” the same voice said.
Madeline, still shaken from her unplanned soak in the lake, could not quite fathom what the man was angry about. After all, the children were left unattended, and that was through no fault of hers. She was only trying to help.
A shadow fell over her. The owner of the voice was tall and broad, momentarily blocking the sun that was warming her after her unwanted plunge into the lake.
She lifted her face to see a man of towering height with wide shoulders and a stern face, making her almost expect to be pulled out and moved elsewhere.
His piercing blue eyes were full of loathing, yet she could not help but think that he was the most handsome man she had ever seen.
Until he opened his mouth to speak again.
“I said, unhand my nephew. Let go of my niece.” He did not raise his voice. The only sign of his fury was the muscle that ticked once in his jaw.
Never mind his looks. He is absolutely rude.
“I beg your pardon?” Madeline said through gritted teeth, her voice and body trembling from shock and anger.
She was not the sort to anger easily, but the man who was glaring at her at the moment had managed to awaken an ire that she did not know she was capable of feeling. It did not matter that she was still kneeling in a soaked and muddied dress, trying to soothe a crying boy.
“You heard me,” the man growled, his lips curled in a sneer that did nothing to diminish how annoyingly handsome he was. “I am not in the habit of negotiating with abductors, but were you planning on taking my niece and nephew for ransom?”
Those words were enough to wake Madeline from her spell. The man might be pleasant to look at, but he was incorrigible.
“I... What? Do you think I am abducting them?” Madeline spluttered, pushing herself up to meet the man’s fiery gaze.
It did not matter that the man was about a foot taller than she was.
“Do I look as if I am taking them away when I look like I just emerged from the bottom of the lake? Be thankful that these poor, unattended children are not the ones trying to rise from the waters. If I were not here, who knows what could have happened to them!”
The girl, who clearly appeared to be the older of the two, stepped forward. “She is telling the truth. She is merely trying to help us, Uncle. She was worried about us and was offering to bring us home.”
Madeline knew the girl meant well, but she wondered whether the statement would improve things or make them worse. The children’s uncle’s face stayed as hard as granite. His gaze stayed locked onto hers.
“Albert, bring Emily and Alexander to the carriage,” he ordered the man standing behind him. He must have been his footman or driver.
Madeline shook her head in disbelief as she crossed her arms over her chest. Although she was still angry, the intensity of her initial feelings had lessened, and she was beginning to notice the bone-deep chill of her soaked body. She shivered.
“As your niece and nephew have proven, I was indeed trying to help,” she began through clenched teeth.
“Meanwhile, you left two children unattended in a park with several people milling about. Yet, you have the audacity to accuse me of a crime? London is not a place for you to leave the young ones alone.”
The man’s face was no longer stern with anger.
However, what replaced his expression might even be worse.
He looked impassive, as if what had happened mere seconds ago was nothing.
He reached for his leather wallet from his breast pocket.
Madeline heard the clinking of coins, and she felt herself go cold all over.
The trembling she felt was no longer from the chill.
“I do not have time for this, so spare me,” he continued in a monotone that was more aggravating than his furious voice.
“A woman who looks like she emerged from a swamp should not lecture me about my responsibilities.” He counted silver and gold.
Why was the man carrying such a large amount of money on his person?
“I do not believe your rescue narrative. How much do you need for your trouble? Will twenty pounds keep you away from my family?”
“P-pardon?” Madeline’s cheeks had frozen from shock. All she could do was blink her eyes.
“Your fee for all the trouble,” he explained, handing her the money. “How much do you want for helping my niece and nephew?”
Receiving money for basic courtesy was insulting to someone like her.
Lady Rose and her friends had given her enough insults to last her lifetime.
Did this man know about her and her family?
Or did he just look at her and judge her based on her appearance?
Her clothes were sodden and would not even show their age. The man just made assumptions.
“Take it,” he insisted. “And stay as far away from my family as possible.”
“Keep your money, sir,” she spat, her face burning with a combination of rage and humiliation she had never felt before, even though Lady Rose had just pushed her into the Serpentine. “I do not need a reward for doing what any sensible person would.”
Madeline stepped forward, even though her wet gown clung to her hips and legs.
She was aware that she might smell like grass and mud.
Earth, if she had to wax poetic. On the other hand, the despicable man smelled like leather and cedar.
Everything about him seemed to reek of authority and, perhaps, days inside his study or library.
Normally, she would have admired the trait in a more gentlemanly man.
But this brute was rattling on her last nerve.
He raised an eyebrow at her, as if he could not quite believe anyone would do anything without expecting compensation.
“Did you not do all this expecting monetary reward?”
“I have no need for your money, sir, and I will not take a single farthing from you. Not everything can be rewarded with a purse. Simple human decency and gratitude would have sufficed, but I doubt those values mean anything to you.”
The man stopped, his hand gripping his money.
He slowly put the coins back in his wallet, albeit with his eyes still on her face as if waiting for cues that she needed them after all.
Something flickered in his eyes, something more than the usual icy indifference in those ocean blues.
She did not know what to feel with his gaze raking her up and down in a slow, deliberate way.
The feeling was strange and unfamiliar, yet everything around them seemed to have disappeared.
What was left was his scrutiny. It should annoy her, and she was, indeed, annoyed and indignant, but she felt something else. A prickle.
“You look as if you are in desperate need of several things,” he said, in a dangerously low voice. “Money and a sense of propriety included.”
“How dare... How could you?”
“Furthermore,” he murmured, leaning close to her so that his face was mere inches from hers.
His warm breath contrasted with her chilled skin.
“You may not have noticed that your dress is transparent. I am not complaining about the view, but I doubt you should be displaying it to the rest of the park. Although, do you actually care about it?”
The last question was also an insult. He assumed she was not a member of society. To be fair, it no longer felt like she was part of the ton.
Madeline looked down at her clothes and gasped.
She was so focused on her fleeting emotions—shock, concern, and anger—that she forgot to inspect herself.
The lake had soaked her completely, and the thin fabric of her gown felt like a second skin.
Even with some mud and lace covering her body in places, the lake water revealed most of her curves, from the swell of her breasts to the flat of her stomach and the slope of her hips.
Oh, heavens!
“Keep this,” the man said, his voice dropping as he placed his coat over her shoulders.
It might have been her imagination, but his hands seemed to linger there a moment longer than was strictly necessary.
The warmth of the wool, still carrying his body heat, was a sharp contrast to her chilled skin.
Her heart hammered in her chest. “Consider it a thank you for helping my niece and nephew.”
“I…”
Unfortunately, nothing else came out of her mouth. Before she could embarrass herself further, she turned on her heel and took several steps at a time to reach her carriage.
What in the world just happened?
By the time she reached home, she was shivering in earnest. Her teeth rattled together. All she had to protect her from the chill was the disgruntled man’s coat, which she wrapped around herself.
Madeline exhaled a sigh of relief when she entered the foyer and became enveloped by the warmth inside.
“Madeline! Good heavens! What has happened to you?” her grandmama cried, rushing from the drawing room toward her.
Portia and Selina followed their grandmother, their eyes wide. Madeline could only wonder what was first on their minds when they saw her. As was usual with her, her lips broke into a reassuring smile.
“Oh, Grandmama! You will not believe what happened!” she chirped, using her lightest voice.
It was the one that Cathy said was almost musical to people’s ears.
“I swam with the ducks in the lake. Oh, I have become so clumsy. I was chattering with some of my friends, and did not notice that I was so close to the edge, but the water was lovely this time of the year.”
Selina’s hands flew to her mouth. There was no humor in her sister’s eyes at all. They probably knew her too well, or they just found her drenched dress too horrifying. She was dripping on the floor, even though she had already made a puddle in the carriage itself.
“Whose coat is that?” Portia asked. Her eyes were narrowed. She even stepped closer to inspect the wool. It was obviously expensive, even though it was already spotted with water. “That is a man’s coat, too big to be Papa’s.”
“And too new to be your grandpapa’s,” mumbled Lady Marlow.
“Oh, this? A gentleman saw me in the lake and insisted I take his coat,” Madeline said, telling herself that it was only half a lie.
At this point, she had already turned her body to face the staircase and escape the rest of their interrogation.
“He was concerned for my well-being. If you will excuse me, I really must change into something dry.”
“What was the name of the...” her grandmother asked, but Madeline was already rushing up the stairs.
Her smile never wavered, keeping the pretense up until she closed the door behind her in her bedroom.
Her shoulders sagged, and her fingers traced the expensive fabric.
It did not feel right to take it from a man who had insulted her in front of his nephew and niece, but she knew she had needed it to save what was left of her dignity and reputation.
What made it worse was that the coat smelled like him.
She caught sight of herself in the mirror. She looked wrecked, with her hair a tangled, muddy mess. Her skin had turned pale and blotchy, and her dress, already an expense they could barely afford, was a ruined mess.
A single tear escaped, blending with the dried silt on her cheek. After releasing that tear, another followed. She was still unprepared to face her crying, sinking onto the floor with her wet clothes wrapped around her like a reminder: Quinten girls would never be truly welcome in society.
The strange man’s coat, despite its usage, was the warmest thing she could hold onto at that moment. He did not have to know that it gave her comfort during one of the worst moments of her life.