To Tame a Dangerous Lord (11 page)

Concluding that he could, Rayne left the ballroom, intent on finding Madeline Ellis and making her a proposal of marriage.

Madeline found refuge from her bout of melancholy in an unusual place: the children’s nursery.

The largest room was obviously used for teaching, judging by the small desks and the smattering of books and primers for young readers on the shelves, while next door were bedchambers, including one for an adult—probably a nanny or governess or nursemaid. The rooms all were freshly renovated and one had a new wooden cradle, Madeline saw, recalling that Arabella had said she was expecting her first child next spring.

Returning to the schoolroom, Madeline set her candle on a table and went to the window, cracking it open to let in a whiff of fresh air. The room was rather chilly but stuffy from disuse.

Even so, this nursery brought back wistful memories of her own childhood when her mother was still alive. They’d had so many wonderful times together …
Maman
teaching her and Gerard to read and do sums and locate on the globe the latest countries where Papa was serving.

Now, however, both her parents were gone, and her brother had married and moved on to a brand-new life without her. She had to make her own future now, all on her own.

Sinking onto the cushioned window seat, Madeline gazed out at the moonlit night. The Thames was down there beyond the terraced gardens, she knew. The scents reminded her of home as well, since their farm was situated on the Chelmer River. However, she could hear faint strains of music from the musicians in the ballroom below, which was strikingly different from home.

Attending the ball had been a mistake, Madeline reflected, since it had only made her feel dispirited. She was better off here, away from the gaiety below, where she could pretend to ignore the certainty that the prime of her life was passing her by. She would never be part of that glittering world—the Beau Monde with its beautiful, wealthy gentility.

And in truth, she didn’t want to be. Nor did she want to envy the flirtatious young ladies in their fashionable, expensive gowns and stylish coiffures.

And yet if she were one of their numbers, then Haviland might look at her in a different light. If she could afford flattering gowns to wear and a lady’s maid to dress her hair differently—

Stop that at once
, Madeline scolded herself angrily. She knew it was futile to let herself dwell on her straitened circumstances.

Just as there was no point in longing for her own children to fill a nursery like this, since she would never marry without love, and finding a husband whom she loved and who loved her in return seemed highly unlikely at this juncture in her life.

“I know,
Maman
, if wishes were horses, then beggars would have mounts to ride. And I can be perfectly content without a horse.”

“So this is where you have hidden yourself.”

Madeline started at the sound of Haviland’s deep male voice. Jumping to her feet, she whirled to face him and inhaled a quick breath at the sight.

The schoolroom suddenly seemed much smaller with him in it, she thought, seeing his tall, muscular form in all its formal glory. He was carrying his own lamp, and in the golden glow, he looked stunningly handsome with his pristine white cravat that contrasted so starkly with his tanned features and raven hair.

He glanced around, then fixed his blue gaze on her as he moved farther into the room. “Were you speaking to someone?”

She flushed, not wanting to admit that she regularly conversed with her late mother. “I sometimes voice my thoughts aloud,” she murmured, compromising with a variation of the truth.

He seemed to accept her explanation, or at least he didn’t press her further. After leaving his lamp on the same table as her candle, Haviland came to stand before her.

Madeline suddenly felt breathless as she looked up at him.

“You disappoint me, Miss Ellis. I specifically tasked you with rescuing me from a horde of grasping debutantes, but you abandoned me to their tender mercies.”

His tone was light, even teasing, yet she couldn’t respond in kind. Her wits had gone begging with his close proximity.

“You did not appear to be in need of rescue,” she finally managed.

“But I was.” He inclined his head toward the school desks. “The nursery? You chose a curious place to hide.”

His casual remark pricked her, possibly because he had hit so close to the mark. “I am not
hiding.”

“No? Then why are you here? Because you are not attired in the latest fashion?” His measuring gaze raked slowly down her lavender gown. “You look perfectly acceptable to me.”

Madeline’s breath faltered altogether at his perusal, but she forced herself to reply. “I told you, I do not care much for balls.”

“Nor do I. I dislike the trappings and pretensions of society in general. So much idle pleasure seems frivolous after decades of conflict across the Continent. It has always amazed me that the good denizens of the haute ton seemed insensible to the bloody carnage occurring just across the Channel.”

Madeline felt a surge of sympathy at the reminder of how much war and death Haviland must have seen. “True. And I am accustomed to being occupied.”

“So am I. But you are not a servant in this household, Miss Ellis. You are a guest, and as such you are entitled to enjoy yourself tonight.”

“I know.”

He offered no reply but continued regarding her in that searching way, as if he were seeking something in her expression.

As time stretched between them, Madeline began to grow uncomfortable. She wondered how Haviland had
managed to find her. But then she remembered; he was a master spy, after all.

“Why are
you
here, my lord? You should be courting your future bride.”

He hesitated, then gave a mock wince. “Must you remind me?”

“You are the one who said you planned to use the evening to further your search.”

“I thought I deserved a respite. But you disappeared before I could solicit your hand for a waltz.”

That took her aback. “You wished to waltz with me?”

“Why does that surprise you? You would make a far more interesting partner than any of the young ladies I danced with tonight.”

Madeline stared at him warily. “I do not waltz, my lord.”

His expression turned curious. “Why not?”

“I never learned.”

“Your education is sorely lacking then.”

His observation struck a nerve. “No doubt, but just when would I have had the opportunity to learn to waltz?” she asked. “I have been employed as a companion since it was imported from the Continent two years ago, and in no position to engage a dancing master.”

Realizing how peevish she sounded, Madeline softened her tone and managed a wry smile. “Besides, Lady Talwin considered the waltz a vulgar display of hedonism.”

Haviland cocked his head, considering her. “You could always play whist. There are two card rooms set up for those who don’t care to dance.”

She shook her head. “That would not be advisable. I am a sharp at whist.”

His mouth curved in amusement, but his response seemed to question her claim. “Indeed?”

“I am not boasting. Lady Talwin and I played many a hand for imaginary pennies, and she loathed it when I failed to give my all. If I were to play here, I would surely win, and I don’t wish to fleece Lady Danvers’s guests. That is no way to repay her kindness to me.”

“I expect not,” he agreed, his lips twitching. “Very well, then. Since you cannot play cards, allow me to show you how to waltz.”

“Here?”
she asked, startled.

“What better time? Listen. We even have music.”

The lilting sounds of a waltz were indeed filtering through the partially open window, Madeline noted.

“Come,” Haviland murmured. “Let me show you.”

Her heart leapt as he took a step closer. When he reached for her gloved hands, she stiffened as if afraid of his touch.

Yet she was not afraid of
him
precisely, Madeline vowed silently, allowing him to position her right hand on his shoulder and her left hand in his warm, larger one. She feared her
response
to him.

She was unnerved by the powerful effect Haviland had on her. He merely touched her, and she lost the power to think. She could feel heat radiating off his body as he placed his left palm at her waist and drew her closer.

Yet strangely, he made no move to teach her the proper dance steps. Instead, he simply held her in his light embrace, staring down at her.

Madeline waited, frozen in place, her heart lurching in her chest. She felt as if she were drowning in the depths
of his sapphire eyes. His sheer physical presence overwhelmed her senses, while his warmth enveloped her.

Her gaze slid lower to his mouth, that firm, sensual mouth that had given her such pleasure last evening…. Heavens, was it only last evening that Haviland had kissed her at the inn?

A fierce longing rose up in Madeline, a craving for him to repeat his stunning assault of her lips. The feeling was so intense, her fingers curled into his shoulder, gripping the superfine of his coat.

“No,” she whispered in protest of her own need. “I cannot….”

In a desperate effort to maintain control, she pulled back from his embrace. “I don’t care to learn the waltz or any other dance, my lord.”

Her action thankfully made him release her, breaking the spell he had cast over her. But when she backed away from him, Madeline forgot that the window seat was directly behind her. As her skirts came up against the wooden panel, her knees literally gave out on her and she sank down onto the cushion.

The impact jarred her, but not as much as what Haviland’s gaze was doing to her.

She inhaled a deep breath, striving for composure. Her pulse had yet to quit racing, but she managed to say in an uneven voice, “As it happens, I am glad to have the chance to speak to you, Lord Haviland. I wished to ask you about Freddie Lunsford’s missing letters.”

He gave her a long look, then moved to sit beside her on the window seat. “I suspected you might.”

Madeline tensed but resisted the urge to stand up and flee across the room. She was not
that
much of a weakling.

“Pray proceed, Miss Ellis. I am all attention.” His tone quite clearly indicated he was being ironic. He was not at all eager to hear her out.

Madeline forged ahead anyway. “I want to offer my help in retrieving Freddie’s letters. Did he not mention my suggestion to you?”

“Regrettably, he did,” Haviland answered dryly.

“Then you will allow me to accompany you to Mrs. Sauville’s soirée Tuesday evening?”

“Tell me, just how would that help?”

“It should be obvious. As a woman, I will be less noticeable than you would be, sneaking around a widow’s house and slipping into bedchambers.”

“You might, but I don’t want you involved.”

“Why not?”

“For one thing, if you were caught, you might find yourself charged with theft and wind up in prison.”

He was trying to frighten her away, Madeline surmised. She was certain Haviland would never allow her to be sent to prison. “Then I will take care not to be caught. And even if I were, you will be there to intervene.”

“You might be recognized later by one of the widow’s guests, have you considered that? If so, your teaching career might suffer.”

She hadn’t thought of that possible outcome. Teachers needed to conduct themselves with circumspection, and she particularly had to take care, since she was only assured of a temporary position at the Freemantle Academy. And yet she had been tasked with teaching French to her pupils in novel ways in order to engage their interest more effectively.

“But I have a legitimate reason for attending,” Madeline
mused aloud. “One that Lady Danvers will likely support. Freddie said that a number of Madame Sauville’s exiled countrymen will be present at her salon. I can claim that I want to meet some of my mother’s people, to interview them about France and Paris and to learn about French fashions for my students, just as Arabella directed.”

The suggestion gave Haviland pause, although only briefly. “Perhaps you could, but that is beside the point.”

“So you intend to go alone?” she asked skeptically.

“At present that is my plan.”

“Have you ever attended one of Mrs. Sauville’s soirées before? Won’t she be suspicious if you suddenly appear just when she is attempting to blackmail your cousin?”

“She may not be aware of our relationship.”

“But what if she is? You don’t want to alert her and give her time to hide the letters.”

“I will not give her time.” When Madeline opened her mouth to argue, Haviland reached up to press his fingers against her lips. “Trust me, I can deal with Mrs. Sauville. And if I judge that I need assistance, I can call on any number of people who are expert at that sort of thing.”