By Love Undone (30 page)

That led to more kissing, until the music stopped below. She looked toward the window. “Oh, no.”

“It’s just the set, Maddie,” he said, pulling her close against him again, his arms wrapped around her shoulders as if he never intended to let her go. She wouldn’t have minded that at all. “We’ll wait until the next one begins, and then we should go.”

She looked up at him dubiously. “I don’t suppose you mean we should sneak out the attic and back downstairs that way.”

“We go down the way we came up,” he said calmly.

“But I am considerably less motivated to climb down the trellis than I was to climb up,” Maddie complained, only half joking. “That’s a damned long way down, Quin.”

“I’ll go first, so you may fall on me if you feel the need to do so.”

Releasing her, he strolled to the window, peering out carefully. “The garden appears to be deserted,” he informed her, and leaned out to look down at the balcony. “Oops.” He ducked back inside. “Apparently we’re not the only amorous couple this evening. I must say, Al
macks’s standards are falling abominably.”

Now that she wasn’t quite so…involved with Quin, the night air coming in through the window felt chilly against her bare arms. She hugged herself. “I guess we have to go out the other way, then.”

“No, we don’t. We can wait another few minutes.” He glanced down and then looked at her again. “Don’t you want to know who it is?”

“Absolutely not. Whoever they are, no doubt they want privacy, or they wouldn’t be out there.”

Quin straightened and turned back to her. “Do you want my coat?” He started to shrug out of it.

“No, I don’t want your coat, Sir Galahad,” she retorted, yanking it back up onto his shoulders. “You’ll have to put it on again in two minutes, anyway.” He did feel nice and warm, though, so she slipped her arms around his lean waist, under his coat.

He had told her that he loved her, and she wished she could say the words back to him. She felt them, so much that it almost hurt to hold them in, but when she tried, they simply became stuck. Tomorrow, she would tell him. After he told Eloise and his parents that he intended to marry ruined little Maddie Willits.

Once he’d done that, she had the feeling that reality would come crashing down on his head, and he would regret having becoming temporarily mad and said all those wonderful things to her. Until then, she would let everything be a dream. A very pleasant, comforting dream.

“Why did you turn Dunfrey down?” he murmured into her hair.

She buried her face against his chest. “I thought about what you said. Charles claimed he loved me, but he sounded just as sincere when he called me a whore in front of all my friends. You were right. I think he just wanted my dowry.”

“Maddie,” he said softly.

“It’s all right.” The music began again, and she started at the sudden noise.

Quin leaned backward and glanced down again. “Hm. Apparently they weren’t as amorous as we were. They’re gone. In all fairness, though, they didn’t remove any clothes.”

She chuckled against his hard, well-muscled chest. “Neither did we.”

“We rearranged some,” he protested. “If you’d like me to be more thorough, I’m quite willing.” He shifted. “Exceedingly willing.”

She could tell. And if she didn’t let go of him now, she never would. “Oh, no you don’t,” she said, pulling free of his arms. “Get going.”

“Minx,” he said, turning for the window.

“Oaf.”

“Lightskirt.” Hopping up onto the sill, he swung his legs outside.

“Blackguard.”

“Sprite.” Quin disappeared from view.

“Dullard.”

His head reappeared. “I say. That last one I handed you was a compliment.”

“Oh. Um—hero.”

He grinned. “Much better. Come along, my sweet. And you’d best be quick about it.” Quin vanished downward again.

He was right. If no one had already discovered their absence, they were luckier than they deserved. Frowning nervously, she hiked her skirts up to her knees and swung her legs out over the garden. Grasping one side of the trellis, she awkwardly stepped onto it.

“Very nice,” he murmured from very close below her. “I should have let you lead before.”

“Shut up,” she snapped quietly, making a game effort
to stomp on his head with her slippered foot. When she’d first seen him, she’d never have thought the Marquis of Warefield could be so very funny and witty and passionate and warm. Thank goodness he’d seen through her anger before she had.

Finally he gripped her about the waist and set her down on the balcony’s hard stone. “Do you want to go first, or shall I?” he whispered.

“I will.” Someone had left a half-empty glass of Madeira on the railing, and she picked it up, pasted a bored expression on her face, and slowly strolled back into the ballroom.

No one turned immediately to stare at her, and she took that as a good sign. When her mother grabbed her arm, she jumped and nearly spilled the glass down her front.

“Where have you been?” Lady Halverston hissed, her face flushed.

“Getting some air,” she replied. “I’ve been rather nervous tonight.”

“Even so, with your reputation, you know better than to go wandering off. People would be more than willing to believe you were up to something. And then all of Lady Highbarrow’s efforts would have been for nothing. I could never have explained that to Her Grace.”

Maddie tugged her arm free. “Don’t worry, Mama. I know what I’m doing. I shan’t embarrass you again.”

She turned away and caught sight of Rafael. He was in his dress uniform again, splendid and dangerous and handsome. Even the scar across the left side of his face only served to make him look more rakish. He leaned against the wall, a glass of port in each hand, and looked at her. After a long moment, he straightened and made his way around the edge of the ballroom to deliver one of the glasses to his brother.

Maddie took a breath. Rafe, at least, knew something had happened between her and Quin. All she could do was pray that no one else did, and that Quin’s optimism about tomorrow would be true. For both their sakes.

Q
uin rose early. A year ago—hell, six months ago—he would never have imagined a day like this. And he certainly would never have been looking forward to it. Lately his well-buried adventurous spirit seemed to have emerged, and he knew exactly whom he could thank for it. In fact, he intended to thank her for it as frequently as possible.

Early as it was, Malcolm was up before him, lurking in the upstairs hallway. Today he used only one cane, and unless Quin was mistaken, he looked as though he wanted to wallop his nephew with it.

“Good morning, Uncle.” Quin smiled, near enough to whistling that he could easily believe he’d veered off into madness.

“I thought the nobility only rose before noon when residing in the country.”

“You sound like Maddie.”

“Speaking of whom,” Malcolm put in, allowing Quin to help him navigate the stairway, “have you forgotten about her?”

“Forgotten about Maddie? I could as easily forget to breathe.”

“Ah. And that is why, I suppose, you’ve spent prac
tically every waking moment over the past week with Eloise Stokesley.”

Quin grinned at him. “Precisely.”

Malcolm eyed him for a moment. “Care to explain that?”

“I do not. I’m going out for a bit. If you wish to go anywhere, have Claymore drive you.”

“Quinlan.”

He turned around in the doorway. “Yes, Uncle?”

“What about Maddie?”

“I’m working on it.” Until everything had been settled, he intended to disclose as little and to as few people as possible. Even to Maddie’s staunchest supporters.

Aristotle glared at him when he went out to the stable, as the damned horse had done since Rafe had left again. Quin had him saddled anyway and rode west to Bancroft House. And then step number one of his carefully laid plan went awry.

“What do you mean, His Grace went out early?” he demanded, frowning at Beeks. “I sent a note yesterday, asking for an audience this morning.”

The butler nodded. “I delivered the note into his hand myself, my lord. As far as I know, he did read it.”

Quin swore under his breath. “Did he say where he was going?”

“No, my lord. He did say, however, that it wouldn’t take long, if you’d care to wait.”

“Blast.” Little as he liked the idea of sitting about, which seemed decidedly unheroic, it was the most logical choice. His Grace could be anywhere in London. “Oh, very well. Is the duchess in?”

“No, my lord. Today is her charitable works day.”

Quin frowned. “Rafe?” he asked, though he doubted he and his brother would have much to say to one another.

“Out riding, my lord.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll be in the morning room.”

“Ah, my lord?” Beeks said hesitantly.

“What is it?”

“Lady Stokesley is already waiting in the morning room.”

Quin looked at the butler for a moment. “Waiting for my father, I presume?”

“That is what she said, my lord.”

Narrowing his eyes, Quin gazed down the hallway. That was certainly interesting. “Thank you, Beeks.”

The marquis strolled down the long hallway and paused outside the half-open morning room door. The proper thing to do would have been to speak to his father first, but he wouldn’t put it past His Grace to have figured out why he had demanded an audience and fled in order to avoid it. And Lucifer knew he was looking forward to a little chat with Eloise, anyway.

He smiled darkly and pushed open the door. “Eloise, good morning! I never would have expected to see you out and about so early.”

She jumped, quickly rising. “I could say the same thing about you, Quin. What brings you to Bancroft House?”

Quin waved his hand. “Nothing much. Have you had tea?”

“Well, yes, I—”

“Beeks,” he called, leaning out the door again, “have some tea brought in, will you?”

“Right away, my lord.”

Studying her face for any sign of what she might be up to this time, Quin took the seat next to her. The
London Times
sat on the end table, but the entire front section was missing, and after a moment he set it aside.

Franklin brought in the tea, and flinched as he caught sight of Eloise. She barely favored him with a glance, obviously not even remembering that she’d scalded the
servant with hot tea only a few days before. Quin remembered, though—quite well. Just as he remembered Maddie, below stairs in the kitchen, patching Franklin up again. “Close the door, will you, Franklin?” he asked, as the footman departed.

“Yes, my lord.”

As the door shut, Eloise looked at him curiously, then leaned forward to pour them each a cup of tea. “My, my Quin, the two of us, alone?”

“I’d meant to call on you,” he said. “You’ve saved me a trip.”

“You have me curious, my love. Please, tell me what is on your mind.”

For a moment he sat back, watching as she sipped her tea, a perfect porcelain figurine of impeccable manners and dress. “Eloise, do you believe in love?”

“What?” she asked, lifting an eyebrow. “Is that what you wanted to speak to me about? Of course I do.”

He nodded. “Good.”

Eloise smiled. “Why is that good?”

“Because it means you’ll understand why I’m breaking off our betrothal.”

“
What?
” she gasped. The cup of tea fell from her fingers and spilled on the expensive Persian carpet.

“I cannot marry you,” he explained calmly.

“Quin, you can’t mean that. Not after all this time! We’re to be married in a fortnight, for heaven’s sake. The invitations have gone out, and the announcement is to be made in the
London Times
tomorrow!”

He shook his head ruefully. “I know. Very poor timing on my part, I suppose.”

“‘Poor timing?’ Is that all you have to say about it?”

“Well, that’s up to you.” Quin let the threads of anger that had been pulling at him for the past few weeks begin to twine together. “If you’ll get up and leave now, I’m willing to end it at that. If you’d like me to elab
orate, believe me, I’ll be more than happy to do so.”

Eloise pushed to her feet in a flurry of blue silk. “It’s her, isn’t it? That little shrew!”

“No, it’s not. Yes, I’m in love with her, but the—”

“It’s your damned brother, then!” she shrieked. “I’ll kill him for this.”

Quin looked at her intently. “What does Rafael have to do with this?”

“Nothing!” she snapped, wild-eyed. “Why, then? Why?”

“The fact is, Eloise, I find you to be a conceited, two-faced, malignant liar, and I really don’t want to marry you—regardless of whether anyone else is involved or not.”

Her face went white. “How
dare
you speak to me that way?” she hissed. “If it wasn’t for her, you
would
be marrying me.”

Quin stood. “Don’t think,” he said, in a controlled, quiet voice, “that because I have been polite to this point, I am some sort of fool. For a long time—for too long, I see now—I was willing to go along with this nonsense because I felt it was my duty to do so.”

“It still is your duty.”

“I have watched you, though,” he continued, as if she hadn’t spoken. “I have seen you be unfailingly petty and cruel whenever the chance arose, and I have seen you belittle those you thought you could because of the privilege of your rank.”

“What about the privilege of
your
rank? You can’t marry her—she’s nothing!”

“Eloise, this is about you and me. Leave Maddie out of it.”

“My God, Quin. I can’t believe…have you told your father?”

“Not yet. I will as soon as he returns.”

She looked at him for a moment, then took a breath
and bent to pick up her teacup and set it back on the tray. “Well, that was nice of you, to tell me first. No one else knows. Nothing is lost.” Eloise glanced toward the window, then back at him again. “Listen to me, Quin. I care for you, and I understand. Maddie is the poor, orphaned lamb you’ve worked very hard to save, and—”

“We were discussing your character,” he interrupted.

“—And now you can’t let her go. But for God’s sake, don’t marry her! Make her your mistress. As long as you’re discreet, I don’t care. Just do something—anything—to get her out of your system, and come to your senses before it’s too late!”

“I suggest you never speak of Maddie in that tone again, Eloise. Now get out, before I throw you out.”

With great dignity, her hands shaking with suppressed fury, Lady Stokesley turned for the door. “Don’t you understand?” she said, as she pulled it open. “Your father will
disown
you when he hears of this. You will have nothing.
Nothing
. And then I won’t want you.”

He looked into her eyes, fighting the sensation that if she’d had a knife, she would have put it into his back by now. “I will have
her
.”

Eloise grabbed her shawl from the butler and stomped down the front steps. Outside her carriage she paused. “No, you won’t have her,” she vowed, and reentered the house.

The duchess always kept pen, parchment, and ink in the front room, and it only took a moment to scribble out the note. She slipped back out again, and handed the paper to one of her footmen. “Take this to Dunfrey House, and deliver it into Mr. Dunfrey’s hand. At once, if you wish to remain in my father’s employ.”

“Yes, my lady.” He doffed his hat and ran off.

The driver helped her up into the coach. She closed the door and sat back. “That should take care of that.”
She smiled as the coach rocked into motion.

Fifteen minutes later, as her coach passed Hyde Park—nearly deserted at this time of morning—the door wrenched open.

“Hello, cousin,” Rafael Bancroft said with a smile. “Keep going,” he barked at the driver, and slipped off his hunter to step inside. His damned horse continued to keep pace with the coach as he slammed the door shut.

“Get out of here,” she snapped, kicking at him.

He sat beside her, pushing her body against the wall of the coach. Grabbing her hands, he wrenched her around to face him. “Who was that note for?” he asked, hatred in his light green eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Let go of me and get out, or I’ll make certain Quin knows what you’ve done!”

“I
saw
you hand that note off,” he snarled, shaking her. “I’ve kept my silence, Eloise, to keep my brother. But he doesn’t want you anymore, does he? So I can confess our little indiscretion any time I like.”

“I’ll tell everyone you raped me.”

“And will you tell them the same thing about Patrick Oatley? Considering which part of his body your mouth was attached to, I’m not certain anyone would believe it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You did six years ago, when I mentioned that I’d happened to see the two of you together.” He smiled, his eyes glinting. “And then, as I recall, you pounced on me, too, to—what was that you said afterward? Oh, yes. To keep me quiet. You’re a spirited lover, Eloise, I’ll give you that. With lots of practice, I presume. But I’m not going to keep quiet any longer.”

She tried to wrench free. “I never wanted you, you pig!”

Rafael grinned. “Liar.” He yanked her up against
him. “Now, what did that note say, and to whom did you send it? If you don’t tell me, Eloise, I swear, I’ll remove every stitch of your clothing and throw you out onto the street.”

He meant it. Eloise could see it in his eyes. “I hate you.”

“The feeling is mutual, believe me,” he answered, in the same tone. “Talk.”

She stared at him, her mind racing. Dunfrey should have read the note by now, and if he had any sense, would have moved to act on it. If she could delay Rafael a few more minutes, it would be too late. “It was merely a business proposal,” she spat out, fighting against his hard grip.

Shifting so that he held both of her hands pinned beneath one arm, Rafael leaned down and grabbed her leg. Eloise shrieked as he pulled one of her shoes off. He tossed it out the curtained window. “A proposal to whom?” he asked coolly.

“To Charles Dunfrey. Now, leave me alone!”

“Dunfrey?” he repeated, scowling. “What did it say?”

She snapped her jaw shut defiantly, until her other shoe followed the first. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wouldn’t I?” Pushing her suddenly forward, he ripped open the back of her expensive dress all the way to her waist. “What did it
say
, damn it?”

Eloise stifled a furious, frightened sob. “I’ll kill you for this!”

“You may try.” With another wrench her dress came off completely, and he wadded it around one arm. “You’re running out of wardrobe, dear.”

“It said…. “She took a quick breath, trying to decide just how much more defiance he would stand for. As he started to stuff the dress out the window, she shrieked, “It said that I would give him five thousand
pounds if he would make Maddie Willits disappear! Now go away, you snake!”

He shoved her away. “You cold-blooded bitch,” he growled. “She did nothing to you.”

“She took Quin!”

“
You lost him
. Six years ago, when you decided you could shut me up about Oatley by climbing into my bed.”

“I did no—”

“Damn it, Eloise, why do you think I took an early leave? If you’d shown the slightest bit of genuine feeling for Quin, I—”

She lunged at him, her nails bared, but he was apparently expecting it, and he shoved her away again. Rafael looked at her coldly for another minute, then jerked her legs out from under her, sending her to the floor of the coach. While she struggled with him to get upright, her shift ripped off in his hands, leaving her in only her stockings.

“You had no right to hurt Maddie,” he snarled.

“Then perhaps you should have confessed your sins to your brother before now.”

“Bitch.” He stood, looking her up and down while she flushed furiously and belatedly tried to cover herself. “Don’t bother—I’ve seen it.”

Abruptly mortified that he would throw her out into the street naked, she let her hands drop. “Wouldn’t you like to see it again?” she suggested, swiping her disheveled hair out of her face.

He laughed, though his eyes glinted. “This is one snake who’s not going near that hole again, dearest.”