Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“Why are you staring at her like that?”
Ellen felt her cheeks grow warm as Madalene questioned her brother.
With their presence so vehemently requested at events now, the three of them had spent nearly every evening together at some sort of party or other; each one becoming easier to attend thanks to the comforting presence of Madalene.
Laurence as well. He always acted a gentleman at those events.
He’d escort her, dance with her, make sure she never grew thirsty or hungry.
Yet there was now a coldness to his touch. A quietness to his presence.
It had surprised and delighted Ellen two nights ago when, of all people, she had seen Deborah and her new husband, Cedric, at a dinner party.
They had spoken briefly about love, and it was in that conversation that Ellen had begun to contemplate if she perhaps was falling in love with Laurence, or if she’d been too abused by Benedict to be able to fully ever love a man again.
She’d loved Benedict. Never romantically, but she had loved him as family, and yet he had hurt her so badly.
Not just in body, but in spirit. In this, she began to wonder if she was as Laurence saw himself—ruined because she would rather delve into a world of carnal pleasure and explore the line of pain and bliss than allow herself to feel love.
That evening, on the sole night there was no party or dinner to attend, and as she and Madalene shared the couch before the fire with their embroidery, she felt Laurence’s intense stare without even having to look up.
Madalene’s question, however, confirmed her intuitive sensation that she was being stared at.
“Like what?” Laurence asked gruffly.
Madalene sat her embroidery down in her lap and glared at him.
“Like what?” she mimicked. “Like you are a wolf about to pounce on a lamb! What is going on with you two?”
“Nothing,” Ellen and Laurence replied in unison.
The heat in Ellen’s blushing cheeks grew intolerable as she locked eyes with Laurence and found him looking positively tortured. There was a hunger in his eyes, mixed with anger and a hint of sadness—and it was all directed at her.
“You are lying,” Madalene stated, giving them each a look that dared them to deny her. “Things have been amiss between you two of late, and you cannot convince me otherwise.”
Laurence snapped his book shut and rose from his cushioned chair as he forcefully yet quietly commanded, “Mind your business, Madalene.”
Of course, Madalene was not dissuaded as most people would be at such a tone, and as she rose from her seat in challenge, Ellen reached for her skirts, as if trying to stop her.
“You two are my business,” Madalene answered with the same sort of forcefulness as Laurence had used. “You are my family!”
Tension seethed into Ellen’s back and shoulders as she reached for Madalene again, this time successful in her endeavors to clutch her skirts and tug her back down to the couch.
“You are right,” Ellen soothed, looping her arm through Madalene’s. “We are family. But we are also fine.”
She tried to sound insistent, and instantly hated how meek and unsure her tone actually came out.
Ellen sent Laurence an imploring look, but his gaze had dropped to the floor as his tightened jaw ticked with annoyance.
She held her breath, not sure what was about to happen next.
Whatever it was, though, she was sure it was going to result in hurt feelings.
The air in the room was growing thick with tension, and she could not figure out how to stop it.
“The Duke of Wynter and the Duke of Hungate are here to see you, Your Grace. Would you like to receive them?”
The butler’s words cut through the heavy silence; a distraction which was sorely needed.
“Excellent,” Laurence quipped as Ellen sighed. “I shall receive them in my study. Thank you, Percy.”
Laurence left the parlor without another word, the tension going with him. Ellen turned to Madalene the moment they were alone and swatted her lightly on the shoulder.
“Why must you accost him so?” Ellen asked, her tone desperate as Madalene scowled and rubbed her shoulder.
“Me accosting him?” Madalene countered, nodding toward the door. “It is his mood that now darkens every room. My brother has never been an overly cheery sort of fellow, but his attitude as of late has gotten even worse.”
Ellen opened her mouth to speak, but Madalene cut her off.
“And he has been staring at you so strangely,” Madalene pushed on. “Ever since that night he went out with Solomon last week. It’s as if he is fearful of you and hungry for you at the same time. It is most disturbing and annoying. Whatever is wrong with him, I wish he would just sort it out!”
Ellen bit her bottom lip, worrying the plush flesh with her teeth.
“It is not just him,” she said quietly.
Madalene’s brows furrowed.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
Ellen felt the weight of her secret weighing on her now more than ever.
She had hoped that she and Madalene would get along, but now their relationship was much more than that.
She was the sister Ellen never had, and because of that, she decided that Madalene deserved to know the truth of how she and Laurence had married.
So she told her, wanting to get the full burden of their secret off of her chest. She talked more about Benedict, filling her in on the details she’d so carefully left out when they had first talked about Judith; the threats, the physical abuse.
She told all. As she spoke, she watched as Madalene’s face shifted from one emotion to another. Anger. Worry. Fear. Rage.
“So when Laurence confessed he did not love me,” Ellen said as she drew to the end of her confession.
“I was…well, I was relieved, because after Benedict, I was not sure if I could actually love someone again. However, your brother and I, we found pleasure in one another’s company, and we decided, as a married couple, that we could make our own rules about our relationship.
Our feelings got complicated, though. We started wanting things.
Some would say depraved things. Found pleasure in moments that might disturb others.
I was upset at first when your brother decided to end that part of our relationship, but now that I have thought about it, I believe he is right.
The things we like…they are not healthy. For him or me.”
She drew in a deep breath and released it slowly.
“So that is why he has been acting strangely, and why I have not done anything to stop such behavior. We are at an impasse, and now, the only thing we need to do is ensure that my cousin is found guilty of his crimes and sent to prison, where he belongs,” Ellen said, ending the story.
Madalene sat quietly beside her for a long time after that, the evidence of her churning thoughts clear in her eyes. Finally, she looked at Ellen again, her gaze surprisingly calm.
“Thank you. For telling me,” Madalene said softly.
Ellen’s brows flew up in surprise. With all the passion that Madalene could normally muster, she had expected a rather different reaction.
“I have known for a while that my brother and Solomon were up to something. And though I had no clear proof, I had a hunch that it had something to do with our late sister’s death.
And I am so sorry that you were brought to the same place that brought Annabel to her end.
By a man you loved and trusted no less. I cannot imagine how gravely that has affected you. ”
Relief and affection surged through Ellen’s veins.
“Thank you,” she rasped out.
Madalene gave her a sad smile as she reached for Ellen’s hand and gave it a warm squeeze.
“As for you and my brother,” she sighed. “You are right, I suppose. I do not fully understand what is going on between you two, or what you could be doing that is so disturbing and alluring at the same time.”
Ellen blushed deeply at her words, suddenly not at all sure if she should have shared that part.
“However,” Madalene pushed on, “I do think you are both wrong. About love, I mean. I think you do love each other. You are just too traumatized to admit it. Both of you. Laurence, out of fear of losing another woman he loves, and you for fearing that a man you trust will hurt you.”
A lump formed in Ellen’s throat, suddenly making it hard for her to breathe as tears stung at her eyes.
“I want to help from now on,” Madalene pressed on.
“In some small manner or other. I want your cousin to go to prison as well. Not just for his involvement with this despicable auction, but for what he has done to you. Perhaps, once this monster is dealt with, you and my brother can finally sort things out.”
Ellen’s lips trembled as she pulled them into a smile, a tear escaping down her cheek. In truth, she had no idea what was going to happen after Benedict was dealt with, but she doubted it would result in her continuing to live with Laurence and Madalene in the beautiful Blackford Estate.
“I am so…grateful,” Ellen choked out, the words thick on her tongue, “For how Laurence saved me at the auction. But I am also grateful for you, Madalene. I have never had a friend like you, and I cannot express how much you mean to me.”
Madalene shifted in her seat until she faced Ellen fully, then pulled her into a tight embrace.
“I am not your friend,” she whispered in Ellen’s ear as she choked out a sob. “I am your sister. For now and forever, no matter what happens between you and my brother. Never forget that.”