To Tame a Dangerous Lord (19 page)

Her teeth clenched. She now knew how Freddie had felt at being blackmailed by an unscrupulous widow. Ackerby knew very well she would never let Gerard hang. But neither would she simply bow to his extortion. “I have told you before, I will
not
become your mistress.”

“Not even to save your brother?”

“You cannot be certain that he is even guilty!”

“Oh, he is guilty. And I will eventually prove it. Meanwhile, you don’t want me to alert your new employer to your brother’s misdeeds.”

“Pray, go ahead and do your worst,” she bluffed.

Ackerby pressed his lips together, obviously displeased with their standoff. As his complexion reddened with growing anger, Madeline decided that perhaps she was mishandling the situation. Even if Gerard was completely innocent, Ackerby could harm her reputation by making his accusations public. She had no desire to lose her new position at the academy because her family was tainted by scandal.

Nor did she want Rayne to discover that Gerard might be a thief. Rayne could understand—and even condone—filching a loaf of bread in order to survive the cruel ravages of starvation, but he would never countenance stealing a valuable heirloom.

In any case, she needed to buy time with Baron Ackerby to prevent him from going directly to the authorities. Then she had to make certain Gerard truly was guilty. If so, she would have to knock some sense into her brother’s witless head and make him return the stolen property before he was found with it and arrested.

Unlocking her clenched jaw, Madeline forced herself to adopt a more conciliatory tone. “There is no reason to share your suspicions with anyone here in Chiswick, my lord. You could be mistaken about Gerard, and if so, making false accusations would reflect poorly on
you
. And if my brother does indeed have the necklace, I promise you, I will persuade him to return it.”

“I am afraid that is not good enough.”

The gleam in Ackerby’s eyes told her clearly that he was enjoying making her squirm. Surprisingly, then, he seemed to back down. “Perhaps we can reach a compromise, my dear.”

“What sort of compromise?” she asked warily.

“I will settle for a kiss.”

Renewed anger and indignation streaked through Madeline at his gall. Ackerby was taking advantage of her vulnerability again, just as he’d done barely a month after her elderly employer’s passing when he’d made his shameless proposition that she become his mistress.

Her gaze dropping to his lips, Madeline shuddered at the thought of kissing the lecherous baron. When he took a step toward her, she tensed, reminding herself that her gardening shears were at hand if she needed to defend herself.

And yet he had her at a severe disadvantage and they both very well knew it.

“Let me see if I understand you correctly,” she said, striving to hide her disgust. “If I kiss you now, then you will allow me time to speak with my brother and persuade him to return the necklace to you—presuming he even has it? And in the meantime you will say nothing to anyone about the missing necklace or Gerard’s possible role in its disappearance?”

“Yes. It will be our little secret. Do we have a bargain?”

She wasn’t sure she could bring herself to say yes, no matter how much she loved her brother. Madeline muttered a silent oath as she stood there feeling trapped. She intended to save Gerard from his own folly, but when she found her incorrigible brother, she would throttle him for putting her in this untenable position.

At her hesitation, however, the baron closed the distance between them and grasped her shoulders, evidently taking her silence as acquiescence. Madeline barely had time to raise her hands between them before he bent his head to claim her lips.

His kiss was every bit as repugnant as she anticipated. Then Ackerby made it worse by thrusting his tongue forcefully inside her mouth. Madeline tried not to gag as she pushed her hands against his chest in an effort to make him release her, but his left arm wrapped around her waist to embrace her and draw her even closer.

When his right hand shifted from her shoulder to grope her breast, though, Madeline had had enough. Utterly repulsed, she gave a muted cry of protest as she struggled to shove him away.

At the same instant, she heard a fierce masculine growl that sounded like a curse. To Madeline’s startlement, the baron suddenly freed her, making her stumble backward. By the time she regained her balance, she realized that Rayne had grabbed Ackerby by his coat collar and hauled him away from her.

Before she could utter a word, Rayne spun the other man around and drew back his fist, contacting the baron’s jowl with a powerful blow that sent him flying to the ground with a decided thud.

Madeline was alarmed to glimpse the fury on Rayne’s face before he lunged after the fallen man, clearly set on dragging Ackerby to his feet so he could pummel him again.

With another, more vocal cry this time, Madeline grasped Rayne’s arm and held on for dear life.

“Stop, please—don’t hit him again!” she exclaimed breathlessly, trying to keep the two of them separated.

“Why not?”

“You might kill him.”

“That is
precisely
my intention.”

Looking deadly, he advanced another step, despite Madeline’s effort at restraining him.

“Please
, Rayne,” she repeated more urgently.

She was very glad he’d interrupted that revolting kiss. But while it touched her to have his protective fury aroused on her behalf, she could not very well explain why Ackerby had been kissing her, not without revealing her brother’s likely criminal misdeeds, which she was loath to do. Besides, Rayne might be even more enraged if he learned of Ackerby’s attempt to blackmail her into becoming his mistress. While it would give her satisfaction to see the baron punished for his humiliating insults, he didn’t deserve to
die
for them.

Ackerby, however, was clearly enraged by the affront to his person. He lay sprawled there amid the rosebushes, holding his bruised jaw and glaring up at Rayne, the picture of wrath.

“How dare you strike me, you … you … cretin. I demand an apology at once!”

“You will have a long wait,” Rayne gritted out. “You owe Miss Ellis an apology for mauling her.”

“The devil I do!” Ackerby began before Rayne cut him off.

“You will beg her pardon or name your seconds.”

“Then I will name my seconds,” he snapped.

“Pistols or swords?”

“Pistols. It will be my pleasure to put a bullet through you.”

“It will be
my
pleasure to teach you a lesson in appropriate behavior toward women.”

Madeline felt her jaw drop as she stood there, rendered speechless with shock. Rayne had just challenged the baron to a duel and the baron had accepted!

“No!”
she exclaimed in a high, weak voice. But neither nobleman was listening to her.

“Tomorrow at dawn?” Rayne demanded.

“Agreed,” Ackerby snarled back.

“Here or London?”

“London. It will inconvenience me less. We can meet at the usual location.”

Rayne gave a brusque nod. “My second will call upon yours to finalize the particulars about weapons and such.”

The baron hesitated then, as if suddenly realizing what he had gotten himself into.

Madeline glanced up at Rayne, who still looked deadly as he stared down at his opponent. The baron must have thought so too, but he couldn’t back down without losing face.

“Very well,” Ackerby muttered as he struggled to his feet. “My home in London is located at Number Seven Portman Square.”

He was evidently having second thoughts, Madeline conjectured, but he was too irate or too proud to withdraw his acceptance.

She was not too proud to ask him to reconsider, though. She had to calm Ackerby’s fury so that he wouldn’t act against her brother before she could convince him to return the priceless necklace.

“Lord Ackerby,” she said in a pleading tone. “I am exceedingly
sorry about this misunderstanding, but surely you don’t wish to fight a duel?”

The baron merely gave her a savage glance as he brushed the dirt off the back of his coat. “Good day to you, Miss Ellis. You will hear from me when this is over, I
assure
you.”

Without another word, he snatched up his hat that had tumbled into the flower bed and then stalked off.

Utterly dismayed, Madeline stared after him until he was out of sight before turning on Rayne to voice her distress. “What the devil do you mean, calling him out? Are you
mad?”

“Not in the least. It’s time someone taught that lecher manners.” A muscle in Rayne’s jaw clenched. “I suspected the worst when Freddie told me he saw Ackerby arrive here at the Hall, so I came at once. It was fortunate that I did.”

In a distracted corner of her mind, Madeline realized that Rayne had not entered the gardens from the Hall, but from a side gate that led from Riverwood. Crossing the grounds separating the two estates instead of taking the long way around the park would explain why he had arrived so quickly.

“There was nothing
fortunate
about it,” she exclaimed. “Not if your confrontation leads to one of you dying.” She took a deep breath, struggling to hold on to her composure. “I did not need you to play the white knight, Rayne. I could have handled Ackerby myself.”

“A fine job you were doing of it,” he retorted sardonically.

Madeline bit back her own retort. She was mortified that Rayne had seen the baron pawing her, but she was
appalled to think of what might happen if they actually dueled. Rayne might be hurt or even killed. Even if he escaped unharmed, there could still be devastating consequences.

“Did you ever consider that you might
lose
a confrontation with him?”

“No,” he stated flatly. “I won’t lose.”

“And what happens if you win? You know dueling is illegal. If you kill him, you may be forced to flee the country to avoid arrest.”

His mouth curled. “Perhaps I won’t kill him. Just put a sizable hole in him.”

In frustration, Madeline reached out to grip Rayne’s arm again. “I will not have blood drawn on my account!”

“It is not your decision to make, sweeting.” Deliberately, Rayne pried her clutching fingers away. “My apologies for violating your fierce sense of independence, but that bastard has touched you for the last time.”

With that harsh pronouncement, Rayne also turned away and strode rapidly toward the manor house, not giving her a chance to reply.

Madeline stared after him, wanting to curse and scream in the same breath. How had events come to such a sorry pass in so short a time?

She raised a hand to her suddenly aching temple. She couldn’t let the duel proceed. Her first priority was to somehow stop it—and then she had to convince her reckless brother to return the baron’s property before he was caught red-handed and faced hanging.

Spurred into motion by her conclusions, Madeline
abandoned her basket of flowers and hurried toward the house, a sense of urgency driving her on.

   To her mind, persuading Ackerby to call off the duel was likely to be easier than convincing Rayne, who was too stubborn and too ruthlessly determined to champion her in place of her late father. Rayne was clearly a throwback to the feudal era, when wealthy powerful overlords protected the weak and defenseless. But while part of Madeline appreciated his gallantry,
she
was not weak or defenseless. Nor could she bear to see him suffer for her sake.

She could not, however, simply follow Lord Ackerby to London to plead with him, since she had to teach her class at the academy at eleven and she still had significant preparations to make beforehand.

Therefore, Madeline settled on writing to the baron at his home in Portman Square, swearing faithfully to see that his property was returned to him if he would forgo the duel. Meanwhile, she promised, she would speak to Lord Haviland and make him understand how mistaken he had been to issue the challenge in the first place.

And she fully intended to keep her word on that score. She would call on Rayne at Riverwood directly after her class, rationalizing that he might be more amenable to persuasion if she allowed time for his temper to cool. She would claim that she’d given Baron Ackerby permission to kiss her—without revealing the exact reason, since learning of the baron’s disgusting proposition would only increase Rayne’s wrath.

Madeline winced at the thought of lying to him and pretending that she’d willingly kissed a repellent libertine who normally made her shudder. But Rayne would
never withdraw his challenge unless she convinced him that he’d misconstrued Ackerby’s embrace.

The second letter Madeline wrote to her brother, demanding to know if he’d stolen the precious heirloom, and if so, that he come to his senses and return the necklace immediately, adding that Ackerby had threatened dire consequences otherwise.

Tucked into the sealed letter, she included the draft for the reward money she had earned. A hundred pounds would give Gerard and Lynette a significant financial start to their married life together, or in the alternative, allow him to afford to buy a wedding gift of jewelry for his new bride that didn’t have the taint of being stolen.

She addressed Gerard’s letter to Lynette’s cousin in Maidstone, Kent. If her written plea brought no response, Madeline was resolved to travel there in person to confront her brother directly. But she disliked leaving Chiswick just now unless truly necessary, since abandoning a post she had barely begun would likely mean the end of her new teaching career.

Her fear for Gerard was tempered by the knowledge that she could possibly apply to Rayne for help in saving her brother from Ackerby’s retribution. But then she would have to confess the theft, which might only make Rayne think less of
her
.

Madeline bit her lip as she acknowledged her own selfish motives at keeping the whole sordid matter a secret from him. Just now Rayne thought her qualified to be his wife, but she doubted he would want to wed the sister of a thief who faced prison or hanging. And if she mired his grandmother and sisters in a cloud of scandal, it would be just one more reason he might never love her.