Blackthorne's Bride (31 page)

"I really mean it," he forced himself to say.

She beamed and threw her arms around him. "Oh, Jack! Thank you." She kissed him. "I love you."

His arms suddenly felt heavy. His whole body felt overburdened, so weighted down that he could barely stand. He couldn't have heard her correctly. Had Maddie just said she loved him?

His head was ringing, and the words seemed to reverberate through his entire body.
I love you. I love you. I love—

No one loved him. No one since ...

Losing his mother had almost killed him. The guilt, like a parasite, still ate at him. He couldn't face that kind of anguish again. Even all the vaunted glories of love weren't worth the pain.

Jack pulled back, quickly extricating himself from his wife. "Look, Maddie. That's a nice ... sentiment, but it's not necessary."

She was staring at him, her eyes wide. He swore she looked as surprised as he. "But, I think—I mean, I really do love you. I—I don't know when it happened, Jack, but I—"

He put a finger over her lips. "Don't say it again. Don't even think it. You're feeling emotional."

"I know. I'm trying to tell you about my emotions."

"You're overwrought. You're not thinking straight. In fact, I want you to take a nap. I think it would be good for you."

He took her hand and dragged her out of the room, up the stairs, and into her bedchamber. Once there, he pulled down the covers and hoisted her into them.

She gave him an incredulous look. "But I'm not tired, and it's the middle of the day."

"It's been a trying afternoon. You could use the rest. Sleep, Maddie."

And he was out of the room, down the stairs, and locking the library door behind him in record time. With an unsteady hand, he poured three fingers of brandy and drank it down.

What the hell had just happened? One moment everything was going fine. Well, not fine. His wife was aggravating him to the point of madness, but other than that everything was fine. Marriage wasn't half as bad as he'd assumed. Maddie was intelligent, amusing, a good conversationalist. She pleased him in bed, and he knew he pleased her.

Why did she have to throw love in and ruin everything? Now she was going to expect him to reciprocate and blather on about his feelings.

The thing was, he didn't have any feelings. Not that kind anyway. He liked Maddie. He was fond of her. But he didn't love her.

Love was a noose—pleasant at first. Pleasant until it squeezed all the life out of a man. He wasn't going to let that happen. He wasn't going to stick his neck in the noose for anyone.

* * * * *

Maddie lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. What had just happened? She'd told Jack she loved him, and he ran away. He couldn't be rid of her quickly enough.

There was a quick tap on the door, and then Josie and Catie popped their heads inside. "The butler said you'd come up here," Catie told her. "Can we come in?"

Josie squeezed onto the bed beside Maddie, and Catie took the chair across from them.

"What's wrong?" Catie asked. "You look like Atlas trying to carry the world."

"I feel like him," Maddie said. "There's so much to worry about. This fund-raiser, Ashley—"

"Still no word from the investigator as to Ashley's whereabouts?" Catie asked.

Maddie shook her head, and Josie frowned. "Drat. Even I'm beginning to worry."

Catie smiled encouragingly. "You know Ashley. When she returns, she'll be brimming with stories of adventure. Speaking of which, that meeting today was quite an adventure, Maddie."

"Maybe it's better if we leave the adventure to Ashley. Everytime I try to do something impulsive it goes awry. Look at my elopement."

"What's there to look at?" Josie argued. "You and Blackthorne are perfect for one another. Maddie, anyone could see that he's mad for you."

Tears stung Maddie's eyes before she could dash them away.

"What's wrong?" Catie said, coming to sit on the edge of the bed opposite Josie.

"He isn't mad for me," Maddie said, accepting Josie's handkerchief when the tears wouldn't stop. "He doesn't love me."

"Of course he does," Josie said. Maddie wished she had her cousin's conviction.

Maddie shook her head. "I made a huge mistake. I accidentally told him I loved him. He said we could have the fund-raiser here, and I was so excited that I just blurted it out." She looked at her cousins. Their faces were blurry. "I didn't even know I loved him, and then, when I said it, it wasn't just a slip—something you say because you're happy and don't really mean it. I really meant it." She shook her head. "I think I was more surprised than he was. I really do love him."

"Of course you do," Catie told her.

"But I don't want to love him. He makes me so angry, and he's always trying to protect me. Most of the time I feel like strangling him."

Josie patted her hand. "But you don't because you can't live without him. We know, Maddie. You can deny it all you want, but you do love him."

"And he doesn't love me."

"But he does," Catie said. "He just can't admit it."

"Why?"

Catie shrugged. "I don't know, Maddie, but I have a feeling that you do."

His mother.
The thought came to her unbidden. His mother might have been the only other woman he'd ever loved, and he lost her so violently and so young. Jack was afraid to hazard his heart again. Just as he was afraid to risk her own safety.

Maddie sighed. How could she overcome something like that? What could she do to make Jack risk his heart again?

She looked at her cousins. "It's hopeless."

Catie raised her eyebrows. "What happened to all your optimism? You're always saying we should think positively."

"I know, but this time it really is hopeless. He'll never jeopardize his heart again."

"He already has," Josie told her. "You only have to make him realize it."

Maddie stood back, surveying the ballroom one last time. It was draped in red and blue silk, colors she'd chosen to pay homage to the British military uniform. In one corner was a long table filled with the items for auction. Beside it there was a raised dais, where the auction would take place, with a group of chairs facing it.

In little less than an hour the guests would arrive, and she would hand each a program. Footmen would circulate through the room, carrying silver trays laden with tea cakes, sandwiches, crumpets, and assorted delicacies. More footmen would circulate with coffee, tea, and punch.

"It looks perfect," Catie said, coming to stand beside her.

"It
is
perfect," Maddie said. "For the first time, I've done everything exactly the way I wanted. I had time to oversee every detail, no flitting from this society to that and another. All my attention was focused here."

"I thought you'd hate that."

"I did too, but I realized that all these years I've been trying to do too much. In the end, I accomplished very little. It's so much better to do one thing really well than a hundred things poorly."

"Don't let Blackthorne hear you say that."

Maddie bit her lip.

"He's still not speaking to you?"

"Oh, he speaks to me, but not about anything of consequence. We talk of the weather, Parliament, rising taxes. We don't talk about love. I'm afraid to mention the word in conversation. Yesterday I started to say, 'I love apricots,' and ended up saying, 'I lo-like apricots so very much.' I hate this."

Catie put a hand on her arm. "Give it time."

Maddie nodded, her throat too tight to speak. She wanted to give Jack time, knew he needed time, but she needed to hear him tell her that he loved her. She knew he cared, knew.he would do anything to protect her, keep her safe. But she wanted the words of love.

Catie squeezed her arm. "Don't look now, but I think our veterans have arrived."

Maddie didn't need to look. She could hear Captain Roberts's peg leg click on the marble floor in the vestibule and Colonel Shivers and Lieutenant Beebe quarreling about whose joints ached the most.

"They're early," Maddie hissed at Catie. "How am I supposed to keep them away from the tea cakes?"

"You'd better think of something."

* * * * *

Jack stood in the corner of the bustling ballroom and watched Maddie glide from one group to another. Sometimes when he watched her from a distance he couldn't believe she actually belonged to him. She was so beautiful with her chestnut curls and sapphire eyes, her teasing smile and creamy skin.

He had the urge to touch her, to kiss her each time he saw her. Today she wore a light blue muslin gown that made her waist look tiny and showed a great deal of her rounded shoulders. The color brought out her already amazing eyes. He couldn't help but imagine that gown crumpled on the floor of their bedroom, and Maddie naked in bed beside him.

Smiling, she left one assemblage and flitted to the next. As soon as she joined the trio of ladies, the women burst into laughter. She had that effect on people. He admired the effortless way she charmed and set them at ease. People genuinely liked her, and she seemed to feel the same.

He, on the other hand, had always felt awkward at social events. He didn't dance, didn't flirt, didn't chitchat. Though he'd done a lot of chitchat lately. The comfortable conversation between Maddie and him had suddenly dried up, and he'd been forced to talk of banalities.

He knew it was his fault. Every time he saw his wife, he worried she'd repeat her declaration. He worried she'd press him to make one. Just one more way love ruined everything.

As he watched, the last of the guests took their seats in the cluster of chairs and the auction began. If the number of people in attendance at the fundraiser was any indication—about a hundred, by his estimation—it should be a rousing success.

Of course, most of those people had come to gawk at the newlyweds. That or to see the bear. Last night he had learned that one item up for auction was an afternoon with Blackjack the Bear. Maddie apparently thought the opportunity to pet a wild animal would be a popular attraction. Little did she know, he intended to bid on the afternoon with Blackjack.

And win him.

He'd already begun construction on a large outdoor enclosure at his country house, and he intended to move the animal there at the earliest opportunity.

Thus far, Blackjack had been tame and well-behaved, but Jack wasn't taking any chances that some idiot buck would bid on the afternoon with the bear, tease the beast, and get his intestines ripped out for the effort.

And if Maddie didn't like that he was bidding on her prize item, she couldn't complain. All the money went to help the pirates—er, veterans.

Jack watched Maddie's skirts swirl as she went to stand beside her cousins. She whispered something to Lady Westman, and the trio erupted in smiles. Despite the added security at the house today, he was keeping a close eye on his wife. So far the task had been easy, but now Maddie whispered something to Lady Valentine and then disappeared into the crowd and exited the ballroom. When she didn't return a moment later, he moved to follow her. He didn't like having her out of his sight.

Unfortunately, the auctioneer chose that moment to place the afternoon with Blackjack up for bid.

With a low curse, Jack stepped forward and placed the initial bid. It was far higher than what was being asked, and he didn't expect any resistance. He intended to win, and win quickly. But before he could claim victory, he was countered first by Lady Wiggleswade and then by Lord Addison.

Normally, Jack loved a good fight, but he didn't have time for it today. His next bid was, once again, exorbitantly high, but his competitors weren't deterred. Lady Wiggleswade offered ten pounds more, and Addison offered twenty.

With a last glance at the door Maddie had passed through, Jack bid again.

* * * * *

Maddie slipped out of the ballroom, smiling to herself. The auction was going splendidly. Soon, His Royal Highness's Society for Invalid Veterans of Overseas Conflicts would be able to afford a new hospital and better medical care. Perhaps they might even be able to provide housing for those veterans and their families who needed it.

She skipped along the passage outside the ballroom, on her way to the stairs leading to the kitchens. As she'd feared, the veterans had partaken in more than their share of tea cakes, and she hoped Cook had thought to hold some in reserve.

"Lady Blackthorne." She heard a weak voice calling her, and turned in a slow circle, searching for the source.

At the end of the passageway, she noticed Jack's library door was open and moved closer. Hadn't they locked all the rooms not being used on this floor? She neared the open door and it swung inward, revealing Sergeant Timms inside, beckoning her.

"Sergeant?"

His face was pale, and he clenched the door as though unsteady on his feet.

"What's wrong? Are you well?"

"My lady, I need your help." He released the door and stumbled back.