Adam's Promise (18 page)

He held her whole face in his hands and devoured her mouth. Madeline had fantasized what it would be like to kiss Adam passionately like this, but never
could she have guessed it would be anything quite so astounding—white-hot and liquid, a luscious, pounding pleasure. It was unknown territory. Any physical sensation she had ever known before paled in comparison to this staggering, overwhelming attack.

She heard herself whimper, felt Adam's fingers caressing the wisps of hair surrounding her face. His mouth was warm and wet and insistent. Soon she was swaying with a debilitating desire that pulled her closer to him until she was pressing her body against his, wanting to melt into him until they were one single thing. Indivisible. Seamless.

The power of her emotions obliterated everything else. It was all so new to her.

The sound of a door opening and closing upstairs yanked Madeline back into the physical world. Heart pounding, she pulled away from Adam and listened for Hilary returning.

The house was quiet, though Madeline's blood was rushing noisily in her ears like a raging waterfall.

She gazed at Adam. His chest was heaving; he looked shaken. Agitated.

“We took this too far,” she said.

He closed his eyes, then slowly opened them. “Will you always put Diana's feelings first, when she has never considered yours? You're not her maid. You're an independent woman. Don't disguise what you're doing as sisterly loyalty, Madeline. You're really just afraid of caring for me because you don't want to be hurt or rejected. You're trying to make me think that you feel nothing for me, to drive me away, so you can leave easily without any regrets. But you
can't fool me. There
is
passion in you. I saw it just now, I felt it.”

“Please, Adam, there is so much for me to work out.” She heard Hilary's footsteps upstairs, returning to Diana's room. “You don't understand.”

Madeline gazed up at the ceiling and thought of her sister and wished she could explain it to Adam. Yes, she and Diana had grown apart, but there was so much more to it than that.

“I know that Diana seems cruel sometimes, but she is still my sister. When I was very young, she used to read to me. And when you came calling, she would tell me all the romantic things you said to her. She would comb my hair and tell me that one day, I would marry my own prince charming. I cannot forget that, Adam. She was all I had. I cling to those memories. I'm sorry.”

Not knowing what else to say, she turned away from him.

“Madeline,” he called after her. She stopped in the doorway but would not face him. “You're wrong to cling to something that no longer exists. You're not a child anymore.”

His words burrowed deep into her consciousness. Benumbed by their sharp effect, all she could do was turn and hurry up the stairs.

 

Adam stood in the kitchen doorway and watched Madeline wash the supper dishes with Penelope. He remembered all the things he and Madeline had said to each other earlier that day, and wished he had been able to say the one thing that would convince her to
let go of the past. Maybe it was selfish of him, but what could he do? He wanted Madeline more than he'd ever wanted anyone, even Diana all those years ago. This was different. The need for Madeline was deeper. Truer. She was meant to be with him and he knew it as surely as he knew his own hand.

I tasted the passion in your kiss,
Adam thought with solid, angry certainty as his whole body grew hard with tension.
You can't pretend you are in control of your heart. At least not to me.

Suddenly he felt a great need to ascertain Diana's wellness, for so much depended upon her recovery. He quietly climbed the stairs and knocked on her door.

“Come in!” Diana replied in a singsong voice.

Adam entered. Hilary was seated at Diana's bedside, but as soon as the maid saw him, she lowered the book she had been reading aloud.

“Hilary, will you get us some tea please?” Diana asked in a polite voice.

“Yes, my lady.” The young woman set the book on the tall chest of drawers and left the room.

Adam moved to pick it up. “
Clarissa, The History of a Young Lady.
Samuel Richardson.”

He experienced the draining effects of melancholy, reading the title, remembering the night he and Madeline had discussed books in his study. She had wanted to read this, but she had never gotten the chance. She had been too busy caring for his children and making his house a home.

Diana shifted on the bed, sitting up straighter and fussing with her hair. “I sent Hilary downstairs for a
book from your study. I hope you don't mind. I told her to get the fattest one she could find.”

He set the book down again. “She chose well, then.”

“If I had known, however, that Clarissa would be confined to her room for the first five hundred pages, I might have instructed Hilary to choose something else, something more descriptive of the outdoors.” She smiled sweetly at him.

Adam moved toward the bed and sat in the rocking chair beside it. “How are you feeling today?”

“Much better, thank you. You are very kind to ask. My headaches have all but disappeared, and my leg—as long as I don't move it too much—is almost free of pain.”

“Well, that is indeed good news. Do you think you would like to come downstairs tomorrow? Jacob and I could help you. It might do you good to sit in the parlor and—”

“Heavens, no. I'm not ready for that. My condition is still much too delicate.”

He paused, feeling the effects of his hopes being cropped. “Well, I suppose that is to be expected. It's only been a week. But look how far you've come. This time next week, I'm sure you'll be ready to try and take a few steps.”

“A few steps? Adam, you are much too confident. I can't imagine getting out of this bed for weeks yet! If I ever manage it at all! Quite frankly, I am afraid of it. I don't want you to see me fall or limp.” She gazed morosely at the window. “What will become of me, Adam? I am no longer the beauty I once was.”

They sat in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes. Adam wished Hilary would return with the tea.

“How are
you,
Adam?” she asked.

He knew with regret that she had expected him to hold her just then, or reassure her, tell her she was still as beautiful as ever. But he had not. He wondered what she was making of that.

“How is your work coming on the marshlands?” It was the first time she had ever asked him anything about “work.” He was surprised she even managed to let the word pass her lips.

Thankful for a safe topic, Adam began to describe the situation. He explained the breaks in the dykes, the repairs necessary, and how it would be a few years before the land would be productive again.

“A few years? But that's your livelihood.”

“Yes, it is, I'm afraid, but all is not lost. The uplands were untouched, and we will have more than enough food to see us through the winter. We'll simply have to forgo spending anything on luxuries.”

He remembered telling Madeline the same thing that afternoon. Her reply had been a sigh of relief. She had said, “Thank goodness.”

Diana was staring at him now, a look of bewilderment on her face. “You'll have no spending money at all? Nothing?”

“Nothing,” he answered flatly.

She shifted uneasily on the bed again. “Well…I suppose there is my inheritance. That could tide us over, provide a cushion to meet our needs.”

“We'll be able to meet our needs. As I said, the crops are quite substantial and—”

“People have other needs besides a full belly, Adam.” Her tone was condescending. “We must be able to entertain, or to purchase the occasional trinket.”

He cleared his throat. “Lavish entertaining is not exactly a common pastime here in Cumberland, Diana. The people here are farmers. This is not high society. Perhaps Viscount Blackthorne's visit gave you the wrong impression of how we live.”

She laughed. “Oh, Adam, I don't expect to live like a queen. Besides, I'm sure the viscount will return. He seemed to enjoy himself very much.”

Hilary entered with the tea.

“Will you read to me, Adam?” Diana asked, wincing with pain as she sat up to receive the tea Hilary was pouring. “I do so love the cadence of your deep voice. Perhaps it will help me relax, and I can get a good night's sleep. I've had such trouble sleeping the past few days.”

“Certainly.” He rose to retrieve the book, and realized with some discomfort that he could no more break her heart now than he could push her out of bed while she slept. It was that damned, irritating compassion again.

Yet tomorrow, he knew that Diana would again be treating Madeline like dirt under her fingernails. For a moment, he considered telling Diana the truth—the cold, hard truth, with nothing to spare—then he forced himself to just read.

A
fter nine sleepless nights and ten days full of abuse and unappreciated drudgery, Madeline's patience was reaching the end of its tether, and her compassion was almost completely dried up.

She stood over Diana's bed now—having just been called a lazy frump because she had insisted the wash water was
not
as cold as ice—all the while fighting hard against the urge to pour the whole bloody wash basin over her sister's infuriatingly pretty head!

“Diana, I have a dozen things to do before dinner, and I don't have time to boil another pot of water for you now. Perhaps Hilary could do it.”

“Hilary is reading to me,” Diana replied haughtily.

“Perhaps Hilary could set the book aside for a few minutes.”
And perhaps I should ship you off to a hospital somewhere and let a bunch of cranky nurses take care of you!

Diana glared frostily at Madeline. “Have you no pity? Do you have any idea what I would give to be able to boil that water for myself? To walk down those stairs and see the sun shining in the parlor win
dows? All I want is to feel clean and comfortable, for that is all I have, confined to this bed. But you…you have never thought of anyone but yourself. You were always so selfish, even as a child. You always wanted my hair ribbons and you took them, too, when I was away. I would come home from Auntie's to find you wearing them!”

Madeline swallowed over the fury that was rising like a tidal wave in her throat. “I used your ribbons because Father wouldn't buy me any of my own.”

Diana gave her a disbelieving frown. “That gave you no right to take what was mine.”

That's not all I want to take,
Madeline thought, squeezing the washcloth in her hand.

She decided she needed to leave the room and be by herself for a little while, for her patience was dangerously close to breaking.

“I'm sorry, Diana, I really do have to tend to dinner. Hilary is going to have to look after your bath. I'll be up later with a tray.”

Diana simply huffed and waved a commanding hand to Hilary, who picked up the washcloth and proceeded to continue where Madeline had left off.

Madeline seized the opportunity to dash out of the room before Diana asked for anything else. She went down to the kitchen and met Adam just coming in the back door, wiping his boots on the mat.

He froze there and stared at her. “You look exhausted, Madeline. When have you slept?”

She wiped her hands over her apron and tried to shrug casually. “I've been sleeping when Diana sleeps.”

“From the sounds of it, she has you hopping all night long.” His tone was contemptuous and stern.

“She's still very uncomfortable,” Madeline explained. “She wakes during the night.”

“And she wakes you, too. I hear you running up and down the stairs for things, and I hear her shouting, scolding you.” He moved all the way into the kitchen, removed his coat and hung it on the back of a chair. “This is getting out of hand. She treats you like a slave, Madeline. You don't deserve to be spoken to in that manner. No one does.” He ran a hand over the top of his hair and paused before adding, “Do you think she remembers?”

Madeline's heart lurched. “Remembers that you broke off the engagement?”

“Maybe she's lashing out at you.”

Madeline considered it. “No, this is not Diana ‘lashing out.' She would never be able to keep something like that to herself. She would come right out and say it, maybe throw a vase or two at my head.”

He gave her a subtle smile, but it held some annoyance. “So this is just Diana's normal, everyday treatment of you?”

He raised an eyebrow. He seemed to be questioning her, pushing her to think about this.

Madeline didn't like to admit that it was normal for Diana to be cruel, not just because it seemed traitorous to her sister but because it forced Madeline to face the fact that she allowed herself to be treated that way, and always had.

I allow it. Why?

“Not entirely,” she said in her own defense, skirt
ing the issue that was now niggling at her brain. “The pain has made her personality a bit more…
intense
than normal.”

“And no doubt, the doctor's pain medication has exacerbated it. You know what they say—
In vino veritas.
”

“There is truth in wine,” Madeline repeated.

Adam's dark eyes softened. “The only reason I haven't said anything to her, Madeline, is because I know you would not wish me to. But I have been grinding my teeth so much lately, I fear I may be wearing them down to their roots.”

Madeline stared at him in disbelief. She wasn't sure if she was flattered by his concern and pleased that, through the walls, he had heard the not-so-charming side of Diana's personality. Or if she was angry at him for making her question her own backbone.

He was right, though. This was getting out of hand.

Why had she always cowered to Diana?

“What would you have me do, then?” she asked, still not ready to admit that her obliging nature with Diana was anything more than an abnormally large sense of duty. “She's been through hell, Adam. It's natural that she should be bitter about—”

“She has a broken leg, Madeline. It will heal.”

“But she'll have to walk with a cane, and she'll have a scar on her forehead.”

“A cane and a scar? That won't be the end of the world.”

“It will be to her. Her appearance matters to her.”

He considered her point. “And I thought
I
was compassionate to a fault. It seems I've met my
match.” He moved toward her, close enough that she could smell his musky scent.

How long had it been since she'd been outside these walls with him? she wondered. How long had it been since she'd spent any time alone with him, talking easily, as they used to do? She promptly felt hungry and deprived of…of what? Of companionship? Of love?

Love.

“I don't believe that compassion is ever a shortcoming, Adam.”

“It is when it lays you out like a doormat.”

“I'm not anyone's doormat.”

“You are. Your guilt has made you into one, when you have done nothing wrong.”

“It's not guilt that makes me care for her, it's—” She stopped.

“It's what, Madeline?” He took a step forward. His eyes searched hers.

Madeline felt the air sail out of her lungs, taking with it her resolve to be strong and keep her emotions in a tight harness. She felt the rigid muscles in her neck and shoulders go slack.

“Diana needs me now. Maybe, if I'm there for her and help her, maybe she'll…maybe she'll…”

Adam's gaze narrowed. “Maybe she'll love you?”

Madeline felt tears of realization filling her eyes. “Neither she nor Father ever said a kind word to me, or made me feel important to them. I suppose…” She paused for a breath. “I suppose I just want to
matter
to someone. Is that so wrong?”

He held both her hands. “You matter to
me,
Mad
eline. Why won't you let me love you? Why can't you let go of what Diana will never be?”

“She's my sister. My flesh and blood.” Madeline could feel herself melting into him. “I have to try and save us—as a
family.
”

Adam's gaze narrowed in on her. “This is about your mother, isn't it?”

She shook her head. “No, I—”

“Yes, that's it. You think it's your fault that Diana and your father were so miserable all your life. It's not your fault that she died, Madeline. God has His reasons for taking those we love from us, and we must accept that. If Diana and your father deprived you of love because of it, they hurt themselves as much as they hurt you, for look at your family now. You are spread out and distant from each other in your hearts.”

“But I don't want to be distant. I want us to love each other. I look at your family, Adam, and I long for what you have been able to create and nurture and sustain.”

He clenched his jaw in frustration. “
Talk
to her, then. I know you've been afraid of opening your heart, but you must, if you are ever going to fix what is broken in your life. Tell Diana how much she means to you, for love is as much about what you say and do and what you show, as it is about what you feel inside. Perhaps Diana needs to learn that as well.”

Madeline felt a spark of recollection flicker inside her. “Mary said those words to me once—about how important it is to
show
your love.”

“I've said those words to Jacob many times.”

So the lesson she had learned from Mary and Jacob had really come from Adam, for it was he who had passed that knowledge on to them.

She stood in the warmth of the kitchen, gazing up at the man who had come riding into her childhood on a big black horse looking like her very own prince charming, coming to rescue her from her locked prison in the tower. She hadn't known how long it would take, or how he would do it. Scale the walls perhaps? Fight off a dragon? Who would have thought that he would simply hand her a key made of hope, to open her heart?

Her voice quivered with a flood of emotions. “Adam, I have pushed you away, tried to
drive
you away, yet you continue to be a friend to me.”

He smiled down at her, but she knew he was not entirely pleased about this. He was sending her to reconcile with her sister, knowing that a reconciliation might bring them closer together but leave him standing outside in the cold.

 

With nervous apprehension, Madeline returned to Diana's room to find her quietly reclining on the pillows while Hilary read aloud to her. Madeline moved fully into the room. “I'm sorry to interrupt, but I would like to talk to you, Diana. In private.”

Diana nodded at Hilary, who closed the book and left the room.

Madeline sat on the bed. Diana held her head high, her chin slightly elevated, and Madeline knew that look all too well. She was still angry at Madeline for
having walked out on her earlier, disobeying her orders and leaving Hilary to finish the sponge bath Madeline had started.

This was going to be exceedingly difficult.

She reached for Diana's hand. “I…I want to talk to you about us.”

“About
us?
What
us?
Are you going to propose marriage to me, Madeline?”

Madeline tried to smile and make light of the joke that was meant to distance her. “Us, as sisters. I…I want to apologize for some things.”

Diana's expression relaxed visibly, and Madeline was glad she had been able to wrestle with her pride long enough to break the ice. Perhaps, this way, Diana would open her ears and actually listen.

“Do you remember when I was six years old, you taught me how to walk with a book on my head?”

“Yes, what does that have to do with anything?”

Madeline tried again. “Do you remember putting me to bed at night? Climbing under the covers with me, lying beside me and reading, then stroking my forehead before saying good-night?”

“Goodness, Madeline, I don't remember.”

“Well, I do. I also remember that when you packed up to leave for Auntie's house to live in London, I did not say goodbye. While you waited in the front hall for the carriage to arrive, I complained to Father and accused him of loving you more than me, and I said you were spoiled. Tell me you remember
that.
”

Diana pursed her lips indignantly. “How could I forget? You ran off down the lane and then my carriage came.
You,
as always, were the one who was
spoiled that day, Madeline, not me. Don't think for a minute I was hurt.”

Madeline sighed deeply. “I said I was here to apologize. I'm sorry for that. I…I was angry that you were leaving, and I knew I was going to miss you. I had no mother to hold me and console me after you were gone, and I was afraid.”
Lord, this was difficult.

Diana was not moved. “I had no mother, either. Do you think it was easy for
me?
You never even knew her. I had to watch them put the mother that
I
loved into the ground.”

Swallowing uneasily, Madeline continued. “I'm sorry for that, too. It was hard for all of us.”

For a long time they sat in silence. Madeline felt her courage faltering and feared that she would not be brave enough to say what she had come here to say. She squeezed her hands together on her lap, then looked at Diana and saw the pain in her own eyes, the memories of a distressing time in her life.

“I didn't want to say goodbye to you that day, Diana, because I
loved
you. More than anyone in the world.”

There was a long silence. Diana's brows drew together in a frown. “Why are you telling me this now?”

Madeline's stomach began to churn. “Because I want you to know it, and because I want…I want us to be close again.”

The color rose in Diana's cheeks. “You think I'm going to be an invalid, don't you? You feel sorry for me, that's why you're saying all this.”

“No, Diana—”

“How can you expect us to be close when you will not do the smallest favor for me, like warming the water when I ask? We are nothing alike. You walk around like the living dead, keeping your thoughts to yourself, looking at me as if I am silly and frivolous for wanting to keep my hands soft or my dress clean while you bounce about in the barnyard, taking pleasure in feeding the hogs!”

Madeline felt she'd been slapped across the face. But there was more….

“You judge me,” Diana said, “with that look on your face. I never know what you are thinking because you never tell me. At least when you were a child you expressed yourself by disobeying Father and running off somewhere. You were such a difficult child.”

“I believe I did it for attention,” Madeline replied. “At least, that's what the housekeepers used to say.”