To Tame a Dangerous Lord (14 page)

“You are
not
in love,” Madeline repeatedly told herself over the course of the next few days. “It is impossible to fall in love so abruptly, with a man you scarcely know.”

It is indeed possible, dearest, Maman
insisted on arguing.
I did so with your Papa within a few short days of meeting him
.

Madeline strove to ignore her mother’s dissenting voice. Whatever her feelings for Haviland, she was certain she would be wise to turn down his shocking proposal of marriage.

Yet that didn’t mean she could stop dwelling on his offer during her waking hours or entirely quell the secret yearnings of her heart. When she slept, her preoccupation with him was even worse, to her immense frustration. If Haviland had filled her dreams before, his erotic caresses the night of the ball made her vivid dreams about him even more potent.

Except in her wildest fantasies, however, Madeline
knew he was not the husband for her. Not when all he wanted was a cold-hearted contractual alliance.

On the other hand, she admitted, he was right on one score: Such an enormous, life-changing decision should be made with careful consideration and not rejected completely out of hand.

Thankfully, she had her immediate future to distract her. Madeline tried her utmost to concentrate on her new employment as she established a routine at Danvers Hall—her temporary lodgings until her situation was completely settled—and learned her duties as a teacher at the Freemantle Academy for Young Ladies.

Arabella was kindness itself on Saturday morning when she took Madeline on a tour of the grounds and buildings. They stopped first at the office to meet Miss Jane Caruthers, the elegant spinster who ran the day-to-day operations of the academy, and the newest teacher, a lively older widow, Mrs. Penelope Melford.

Both ladies were friendly and welcoming, to Madeline’s relief, and Arabella promised that the other part-time teacher would be just as pleased to have her on the staff.

“My good friend, Tess Blanchard, is away at a house party just now,” Arabella remarked, “but I will have the pleasure of introducing you once she returns. You will like Tess, I am certain.”

Arabella went on to explain the school’s design as they toured the premises. “Our academy was actually converted from a former country estate so as to prepare our pupils for the varied experiences they will encounter in high society. The majority of classes are held here in the main manor, but we have a smaller, more formal mansion that is representative of a Mayfair residence, complete
with a large drawing room and ballroom. We also have our own stable and park to practice outdoor skills, and a dormitory to lodge the students who board here full-time—which includes most of them. And we are fortunate to be close enough to London that we can attend plays and operas so our young ladies can practice their social graces in authentic settings.”

“Didn’t you say that your sister Lily is away on her wedding journey?” Madeline asked.

“Yes, and she will be gone for several more weeks, so Penelope Melford has taken over teaching Lily’s outdoor activities. You will primarily be assuming Roslyn’s role, Madeline. I believe she expressed her gratitude to you at the ball last evening. Roslyn is the real scholar among us, although you would not know it to look at her. She hated to abandon her pupils, but Arden’s responsibilities with the government require that he remain in London much of the year, so Roslyn will be unable to maintain her normal duties as she would have liked.”

Madeline was highly impressed with everything she saw, and by the time they returned to the main manor, the students had finished breakfasting and had begun Mrs. Melford’s class on conversation.

The widow had a natural charm that made her instruction extremely enjoyable. Thus, at the conclusion of the class, Madeline tried to adopt that same pleasant demeanor when Arabella introduced her.

The young ladies showed only polite interest until Madeline’s French origins were revealed, and then they paid avid attention to every word she spoke, eagerly peppering her with questions—which not only boded well for her reception but gave her some ideas about
how she might approach her own classes that were to begin on Monday morning.

Upon returning to Danvers Hall, Madeline devoted the afternoon to preparing her lesson on French grammar and vocabulary, an exercise that made her lament the poor references she had at her disposal.

On Sunday, she attended service at the village church and accepted an invitation afterward to take luncheon with Miss Caruthers and Mrs. Melford, where they discussed the importance of Madeline’s classes and how to increase their effectiveness.

“You see, Miss Ellis,” Jane Caruthers explained, “we believe that learning correct pronunciation of a foreign language will give our young ladies better command of their own native tongue, and speaking English with proper accents will help them go much further in society—or at the very least, help them avoid automatically being labeled as coming from the lower classes.”

“I understand,” Madeline replied, recognizing Arabella’s theory, “and I completely agree. But I hope to find a better French primer than the one our pupils now use.”

Miss Caruthers nodded in approval. “An excellent idea. You might try Hatchard’s bookshop in London. They have the largest selection of books anywhere. And of course, the academy will fund any purchases you make on our pupils’ behalf.”

Madeline greatly enjoyed getting to know her fellow teachers, but she had the rest of the day to herself, since Lord and Lady Danvers had left that morning for London. Before taking tea alone, Madeline started a letter to her brother to tell him of her unexpected change in fortune and her new employment.

Yet no matter her occupation, the Earl of Haviland was never far from her thoughts. Madeline didn’t know whether she was relieved or disappointed to have seen no sign of him or Freddie Lunsford the entire weekend.

She did, however, receive a short missive from Haviland shortly after dinner that confirmed their agreement to attend Mrs. Sauville’s salon together on Tuesday evening. While his messenger waited, Madeline wrote the earl a quick reply, asking if they might visit Hatchard’s bookshop beforehand in order to investigate reference materials for her French classes.

Madeline couldn’t help but view the upcoming trip to London with eager anticipation. Thus far she’d lived an utterly tame life, growing up on a country farm and then serving as a lady’s companion for so many years. Purloining letters from under the nose of a blackmailing widow might be the most exciting adventure she had ever experienced. Moreover, sharing that adventure with a former spymaster of Haviland’s vaunted reputation would likely prove fascinating.

The novelty of going to London at least helped ameliorate her nervousness at the prospect of conducting her first class on the morrow. Perhaps that was why, Madeline realized once she had passed the test at the academy with flying colors, her initiation into the world of teaching went so well.

However, when both missing gentlemen called on her at Danvers Hall on Monday afternoon, her nerves returned full force. Madeline deplored the way her heart leapt when Lord Haviland entered the library where she was poring over a map of Paris in preparation for her next class.

Even so, she couldn’t stop herself from drinking in the
sight of him, or dismiss the feeling that she had just been passing time until his reappearance in her life.

I am suffering from a sad case of infatuation, Maman
, Madeline lamented inwardly as she invited the gentlemen to be seated in wing chairs near the fire and asked Simpkin to bring refreshments for her distinguished callers.

Despite her determination to conquer her idiocy, she listened with only half an ear as Freddie Lunsford rambled on with an apology for neglecting her these past few days, claiming that he had been in London.

When Haviland offered the same excuse, she found herself looking at his mouth, remembering the taste of him, and eyeing his strong, capable hands, recalling their sensual touch on her skin the night in the Danvers nursery. How thoroughly he had overwhelmed and enchanted her that evening—

“I say, Miss Ellis,” Freddie interjected, “didn’t you begin teaching today?”

“Yes,” Haviland seconded. “How did your first French class go?”

Flushing, Madeline jerked her errant thoughts back to the present. “It seemed successful. I centered my vocabulary lesson around French fashions and had my young ladies pretend we were in Paris, patronizing various modistes and milliners. Tomorrow I mean to expand our environs to historical sites.”

Haviland raised an eyebrow. “Have you been to Paris?”

“No, but many of my mother’s compatriots returned there once the royalists were reinstated after Napoleon’s defeat, so I think I’ve heard enough tales and descriptions to convey the flavor of the city. And as you know,
much of the British aristocracy flocked to Paris after the war’s end. As a result, our English fashion magazines show a decided French influence. I plan to capitalize on that to spark our pupils’ interest in proper grammar and pronunciation.”

Just then, Simpkin entered, carrying a large tea tray. When he had left Madeline alone with her visitors again, she turned to the topic that was foremost on her mind.

“I admit I was relieved to receive your missive yesterday, Lord Haviland. I feared you might change your mind about letting me accompany you.”

“No, I decided your ideas were good ones. You have a legitimate interest in attending Madame Sauville’s gathering and conversing with her countrymen so you can better teach your pupils. And my escorting you there provides me a reasonable excuse to attend without raising her suspicions.” A half smile touched Haviland’s mouth. “Furthermore, we had a bargain, Miss Ellis. I mean to uphold my end of it, and I expect you to do the same.”

Reminded of her promise to consider his proposal, Madeline wrinkled her nose. “I fully intend to.”

Freddie was looking between them with puzzlement, but Haviland ignored him and proceeded to explain that setting his plans in place was the chief reason for his recent trip to London. “I managed a chance meeting with a friend of Mrs. Sauville’s to confirm the program for Tuesday evening. She has planned a poetry reading for seven o’clock, with a supper afterward.”

“Will we attend without an invitation?”

“Yes, to avoid giving her any advance warning. If for some reason she does suspect me of plotting to regain
the letters, I don’t want to allow her time to move them to another hiding place.”

Impressed by his foresight, Madeline voiced her next question. “When should I be ready tomorrow?”

“I will call for you at three o’clock to convey you to London. That should allow us ample time to visit the bookshop you mentioned. We’ll discuss the details of the plan during our drive.”

Realizing she would have to be content until then, Madeline nodded slowly, just as Freddie piped up:

“There will be an ample reward for you, Miss Ellis, if you succeed.”

“A reward won’t be necessary,” she replied.

The opportunity to repay Haviland’s generosity a small measure, and the satisfaction of helping extricate his cousin from a plot to blackmail him, would be reward enough, Madeline knew. And so would the chance to enliven her admittedly rather dull existence.

Despite her concern about spending so much time alone with the irresistible Lord Haviland, she would be eagerly waiting for three o’clock tomorrow.

   Rayne arrived exactly on time late the following afternoon, and he complimented Madeline on her own punctuality as he handed her into his coach.

“I feared you might leave without me if I was tardy,” she replied, settling back against the comfortable squabs.

“That is another reason we would be compatible in marriage,” he pointed out as the vehicle moved off. “We both value promptness.”

He saw her bite back a wry smile. “I expected you to
take this opportunity to press your suit, my lord. Just not as the opening salvo.”

“My name is Rayne, remember?”

“Very well … Rayne. Your requirements in a wife are rather curious. If you esteem promptness so highly, you would do better to hire a secretary. You can demand that he follow your schedule to the minute.”

“I already have a secretary to handle my affairs in the Lords. Unfortunately he cannot present me with offspring.”

A soft laugh escaped Madeline. “That indeed is a drawback when you are seeking an heir.”

Rayne surveyed her with interest. “What about you, sweeting? During my proposal I neglected to ask your opinion about children.”

Her look turned uncertain. “What do you mean?”

“Do you want children of your own?”

She answered with no hesitation. “Yes, I want children.
Provided
I have the right husband.”

“I suspected you would,” he said seriously, ignoring her pointed exception, “since you had the patience to act as companion to an invalid, and since you seem to have taken to teaching adolescent girls so readily.”

Madeline shifted in her seat, as if uncomfortable with the direction of their conversation. “Didn’t you say you would share the details of your plan with me during our drive to London?”

Rayne’s mouth curved as he recognized her diversionary tactic. Even so, he complied. “The basic plan is simple. As soon as possible after we arrive at the salon, I will make my way upstairs to Madame Sauville’s rooms and search for the letters.”

“I still think I would be better able to slip into her boudoir undetected.”

“Perhaps, but I want you well out of it.”

Madeline eyed him quizzically. “Are you reluctant to use me because I am a woman?”

“Not necessarily,” Rayne replied. He didn’t mind employing female agents if they were skilled and suitable for the task at hand. The ones he’d known had all been experts at espionage. They could be cold and deadly when necessary, and could take care of themselves. “I don’t like using civilians.”

“Civilians?”

“Amateurs.”

Madeline made a face. “You are afraid that I am not brave enough.”