To Tame a Dangerous Lord (18 page)

She shivered. Rayne was a man who pursued what he wanted, and in this case, he wanted
her
. But that didn’t mean she had to oblige him.

As if reading her mind, he shook his head. “You are not allowed to refuse me just yet. I upheld my end of our bargain by letting you accompany me tonight, so you owe me at least a week to consider your answer.”

Madeline paused for a long moment, wondering how on earth she would be able to resist him for so long. But really, it was only fair that she fulfill her side of their bargain. “Very well, one week.”

Her answer would still be no, however, Madeline vowed shakily, even if her refusal filled her with regret and sadness. She was too emotionally vulnerable to Rayne. If they wed, she would surely lose her heart to him and he would never reciprocate.

Not looking at him, Madeline snatched up her cloak from the seat beside her. And since her only safety lay in putting a great distance between them, she moved across the coach to the far corner of the opposite seat.

“I’ll thank you to keep on your side, Lord Haviland,” she muttered as she struggled to don her cloak.

“As you wish, love,” he said easily. “I am satisfied that I made my point tonight.”

He had indeed made his point, Madeline reflected in dismay. Now that she’d had a taste of the excitement
and passion Rayne could give her, she only wanted more.

And despite her determination to keep far, far away from him from now on, as she finished fastening the hooks of her drab cloak and prepared to resume her normal dull life, she had the sinking conviction that after tonight, she would never, ever be the same again.

Madeline failed miserably in her attempt to forget the intimate interlude in Rayne’s carriage, in part because she had no early duties at the academy Wednesday morning and thus faced several hours to herself, alone with her chaotic thoughts.

To banish her unwanted memories—and to expend some of her fitful energy—Madeline escaped to the formal gardens at the rear of the manor, where she proceeded to cut fresh flowers for half the rooms in Danvers Hall.

She was not quite finished with her task when Freddie Lunsford hailed her as he strolled down the gravel path toward her.

“A very good morning to you, Miss Ellis,” Freddie said cheerfully. “Simpkin told me I could find you here.”

Dropping her gardening sheers into the flower-filled basket at her feet, Madeline turned to greet him with a smile as she drew off her gloves. “Good morning to you also, Mr. Lunsford.”

“I called early in hopes of catching you before your class begins.”

“My class is actually not scheduled until later this morning. My pupils and I plan to take luncheon together so we can pretend we are dining at a Paris hotel.”

“I see. In any event, I wished to give you this.”

Accepting the paper he offered, Madeline realized that Freddie had given her a bank draft, but her eyes widened at the large sum. One hundred pounds was twice the yearly salary she had earned as companion to Lady Talwin.

“It is the reward I promised you,” he explained when she raised her surprised gaze to his.

“But I told you, I do not want a reward.”

“I insist, Miss Blanchard. You helped save me from utter disaster, and I must show you proper gratitude.”

“Your thanks is gratitude enough,” Madeline began, trying to return the draft to him. But Freddie stepped back, holding up his hands with a grin.

“Rayne warned me you would likely refuse, but he agrees that you earned it. I am to hound you until you accept it, and to summon him if I need reinforcements.”

Realizing that she was outnumbered, Madeline graciously acknowledged her defeat with a laugh. “Very well, then, thank you. I will send this to my brother since he could use the funds just now.”

“So could you, I’ll warrant,” Freddie stated in his usual tactless fashion, his gaze raking her nondescript gray morning gown and black spencer. “You should buy yourself a nice dress or two, Miss Ellis.”

Madeline felt her face flush at his evident condemnation of her wardrobe, but rather than argue, she slipped the draft into her skirt pocket and changed the subject.

“So, has Mrs. Sauville’s attempt at blackmail completely ended?”

Freddie grimaced. “Lord, I hope so … or at least I trust it will all be over in a few days. I mean to write her this morning, telling her I won’t pay her extortionist demands and that she ought to reread those letters of mine.” He grinned again. “She will be in for a rude shock when she discovers that her leverage over me has mysteriously disappeared.”

“I expect so,” Madeline agreed, smiling back.

“And now, I will take my leave of you, Miss Ellis. There is an enormous breakfast awaiting me back at Riverwood, and Rayne would not permit me to eat until I had called on you. I vow, I am famished. I have scarcely been able to swallow a bite this entire week past—Oh, would you care to join us, Miss Ellis?” Freddie asked, interrupting his own soliloquy.

Wanting urgently to avoid facing Rayne at the moment, Madeline hastened to decline. “Thank you, but I have already breakfasted.”

“Very well, then…. But if I may ever repay the favor you did for me, you have only to ask.”

“I will, Mr. Lunsford,” she assured him, although she couldn’t imagine ever needing to be rescued from a blackmailer.

With a gallant bow, Freddie doffed his hat to her, then spun jauntily and took himself off. He was whistling loudly when he disappeared from her view.

Still smiling to herself, Madeline returned to her gardening. Yet she was surprised when a short while later, Simpkin appeared to inform her that she had another caller, this time a Lord Ackerby, and was she “at home” to him?

Madeline felt her stomach clench at the mention of her noble nemesis and former neighbor.

Before she could reply that she most certainly was not at home, she saw the auburn-haired baron himself striding down the garden path. Even from a distance she recognized Ackerby’s tall, well-dressed form by his imperious bearing. Evidently he hadn’t trusted that she would receive him and so decided to give her no choice by following the butler to her location in the garden.

The elderly Simpkin frowned at this deliberate violation of proper etiquette, but Madeline hid her own grimace of distaste. “Thank you, Simpkin. I will speak to his lordship alone.”

“As you wish, Miss Ellis.”

Wondering what had brought her unwanted visitor here, Madeline waited until the butler had gone before asking Ackerby that very question.

“Why you, of course, my dear,” he responded in an easy tone. “Imagine my surprise to discover that you had landed here. You are like a cat with nine lives.”

She regarded him with an arch look. “Did you drive all the way from Chelmsford to discuss cats, my lord?”

“No, I came from London, where I have been staying these past several days.” Ackerby glanced around at the luxurious terraced gardens. “Haviland has set you up in fine style, I see.”

Madeline stiffened at the offensive insinuation that she’d become Rayne’s mistress. “You are greatly mistaken, sir—and you insult Lord Haviland by impugning him with your own lecherous motives. He is merely a friend of my late father and so did me a kindness by
helping me find employment here in Chiswick at a young ladies’ academy owned by Lady Danvers.”

Ackerby raised a dubious eyebrow. “Indeed? That relieves my mind then,” he drawled as if disbelieving her.

She longed to wipe that smirk off his dissipated face. “The state of your mind matters little to me, Lord Ackerby.”

He held up a hand as if to ward off another tart retort. “I don’t wish to quarrel with you, my dear.”

Madeline pressed her lips together, striving to keep her temper. “Then what
do
you want?”

“Restitution, merely that.”

“Restitution?” she echoed. “Whatever do you mean?

“Your brother is a thief and a scoundrel, Madeline. He stole a precious heirloom from me, and I want it back at once.”

“I beg your pardon?” she said, staring. Gerard could be a scamp at times, playing pranks on friends and foes alike, but there was no real harm in him. And he most certainly would not steal so valuable an object from their wealthy neighbor.

And yet when she searched the baron’s face, hoping to find some sign that he was jesting, his expression remained entirely serious.

“I trust you will explain your absurd accusation,” she said finally.

“There is nothing absurd about it. Your brother left town last week shortly before you did. It wasn’t until the day after I saw you at the inn that I discovered the de Vasse Necklace missing.”

Madeline had heard of the priceless diamond and ruby necklace, which had formerly belonged to the Vicomte
and Vicomtesse de Vasse, the parents of Gerard’s new bride, Lynette.

“Whatever gave you the idea Gerard stole it?”

“One of his accomplices confessed,” Ackerby replied. “Upon realizing the jewels were gone, I naturally questioned all of my servants. Under duress, a chambermaid revealed that your brother had seduced her to gain access to my home so that he might locate my safe and break the lock to steal the necklace.”

“I don’t believe it,” Madeline declared flatly. Gerard was madly in love with Lynette. He would be the last person to dally with a serving maid.

“You should. Where can I find your brother?”

Madeline refused to answer. She could have told the baron that Gerard had eloped to Scotland with his sweetheart, but it was not common knowledge yet, and she intended to keep her sibling’s secret as long as he needed her to. “I am not certain where he is at just this moment.”

Which was mostly true. Upon returning from Scotland, Gerard and Lynette had planned to take refuge in Kent at the cottage of one of her French cousins, where they were to write Lynette’s parents and present them with a
fait accompli
. But Madeline did not know for a fact that the newlyweds had arrived there. And even if she
had
known, she wouldn’t reveal their location to Baron Ackerby so that he could pursue them there.

“Then I suggest you find him,” Ackerby said tersely, watching her face to judge her truthfulness. “It will go harder for Ellis if he puts me to the trouble of searching for him.” He paused. “If he returns the jewels to me immediately, however, I might consent to be lenient. He will only face prison instead of hanging.”

Dismay filled Madeline as she considered the baron’s threat. Was it possible he was right? That Gerard had actually taken the necklace and then gone into hiding to escape the nobleman’s retribution? The jewels were worth a fortune, but Gerard might have wanted them more for their sentimental value, since they’d originally been stolen from the Vicomte and Vicomtesse when they fled the French Revolution to avoid losing their heads.

Madeline shivered. Such chivalry sounded precisely like something her quixotic brother would champion. In Gerard’s mind, justice could seem a good reason to purloin the necklace and return it to the true owners’ family.

Determined to present a loyal front, however, she manufactured a scoffing sound as she gazed scornfully at Ackerby. “You have no real proof of his guilt, my lord. Only a chambermaid’s claim, which you yourself said was obtained under duress.”

“I will have all the proof I need when I find the necklace in your brother’s possession. I promise you I will search tirelessly for Ellis, and when I locate him, he will hang for his crime.”

Dismay turned to fear inside Madeline at the thought of her brother hanging. If Gerard
did
have the necklace, he had to return it, no matter how noble his motives might have been in taking it. Which meant she would have to find him before the baron did and convince him of the madness of his actions—

Madeline winced inwardly, realizing that she was no longer adamantly refuting the baron’s allegations. Ackerby might be a libertine, but he would not have come all this way to make baseless charges. The unyielding
conviction in his expression, too, lent credence to his claim and sent chills through Madeline.

As she silently debated how to respond, a sly look crept over the baron’s features. “I’ll wager you would not care to have your new friends”—he waved a hand toward the Hall—“learn that your brother is a common criminal. It will not reflect well on you, Madeline, and might even cost you your teaching position.”

“And I suppose you mean to tell them?” she asked warily.

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“Your selflessness. Are you willing to sacrifice for your brother’s sake?”

“You are speaking in riddles, Lord Ackerby,” Madeline retorted, tired of his evasion.

“Then let me be more plain. I would be willing to overlook your brother’s crime in exchange for … certain concessions on your part.”

She knew
exactly
what concessions he meant. Madeline’s hackles rose as she comprehended Ackerby’s real purpose in hunting her down here at Danvers Hall.
He was still bent on having her in his bed!
Even more certain, he was determined to conquer her, to bend her to his will in retaliation for her continued rejection of him—and this time he had leverage over her.