To Tame a Dangerous Lord (3 page)

She was recovering from her daze, he noted, discomfited when she squared her shoulders and tightened her grip on her pistol, although not aiming it directly at him.

Rayne’s mouth curved involuntarily. It would serve him right if she decided to pull the trigger, for his raging male impulses had been every bit as licentious as her baron’s.

“You needn’t fear,” he said, attempting to keep his voice light. “I won’t touch you again. If I do, you have my leave to shoot me.”

He meant what he said, Rayne reflected. Deciding it wiser to remove himself from temptation, though, he retreated to the sofa and settled there, crossing one leg over the other, the better to hide the swollen bulge in his pantaloons.

“Allow me to introduce myself. I am Rayne Kenyon, Earl of Haviland.”

She gave a start of recognition. “Kenyon?” she repeated as if surprised by his surname.

“Do you know me?”

“No … but I believe you knew my father. Captain David Ellis.”

It was Rayne’s turn to start.
“You are
his daughter Madeline?”

“Yes.”

Rayne stared. Her revelation gave matters an entirely different perspective, since Captain David Ellis was the friend and fellow spy who had once saved his life.

Now he damned well knew he should never have kissed her.

Still half dazed, Madeline regarded Lord Haviland in surprise. She had difficulty focusing her mind on his identity, though, since he’d abducted her wits along with her senses. Her lips throbbed, while heat ribboned throughout her body.

Deplorably, Haviland’s sensual assault had bewitched her. For the first time in her life, she understood the joy of being kissed by an expert lover. She’d been thoroughly jolted, shaken down to her toes by this ruggedly beautiful nobleman.

Yet that was not the sole source of her inner turmoil, Madeline knew. It was that she had never imagined feeling such …
passion
with a man. Indeed, she found it shocking that she could be so aroused and enchanted.

Even so, that is no excuse to stand here like a tongue-tied moon-calf
, she scolded herself.

Attempting to recover her wits, Madeline cleared her throat. “I did not realize you had gained the rank of earl,” she said finally, striving for the appearance of composure.

“I came into the title last year.” Haviland paused, his features softening as he studied her. “I was terribly saddened by your father’s passing. He was a good man and a good friend.”

At least the mention of her late father took her mind off that amazing, heart-stopping kiss. Madeline managed a brief smile, despite the sudden lump in her throat. Her father had been her idol, and she’d grieved immensely at his untimely death.

“You were clearly a good friend to him as well, Lord Haviland. Thank you for sending his effects home to us along with his last letter. I cherish those final remembrances of him.”

“It was the least I could do. Your father saved my life once, did you know?”

“No, he never mentioned it.”

Haviland smiled. “He wouldn’t. David Ellis was never one for self-aggrandizement. He often spoke glowingly of you and your brother, however.”

“He spoke of you also. He respected you greatly.”

Madeline had heard about Rayne Kenyon from other sources in the close-knit émigré community as well. Indeed, he was practically a legend, for he had saved countless lives in service to his country. But he had worked in the diplomatic corps of the Foreign Office, not the military. Her father had reported directly to Wellington and was occupied chiefly with enemy troop movements and supply transports. Haviland, on the other hand, had controlled a network of agents involved in political intrigues—a shadowy world of secrets, betrayals, treachery, and greed. His had been a dangerous business in the battle against French might.

Yet he shrugged off her compliment while his expression
turned rueful. “I regret my behavior toward you just now. I never would have kissed you had I known you were Captain Ellis’s daughter.”

She was glad Haviland hadn’t known her identity, for then she would have missed out on his shattering kiss. She doubted she would ever again experience anything so magical. Unconsciously, Madeline found herself gazing at his mouth—the wicked, sensual mouth that had made her breathless and weak-kneed and all too eager to surrender to forbidden passion.

Remembering, she swallowed. “Well … thank you for coming to my aid, Lord Haviland. But I should take my leave now.”

“Not so quickly, Miss Ellis,” he responded, rising from the sofa. “I first want to know how you came to be in such a predicament.”

His great height was a trifle intimidating, Madeline thought, resisting the urge to back away as he approached her. Every instinct she possessed screamed that he was dangerous. She stood her ground, however, vexed at herself for feeling so vulnerable. “You needn’t involve yourself any further in my affairs.”

“But I wish to. I feel some responsibility toward you after what your father did for me.”

His implication made Madeline frown. “You most certainly are not responsible for me.”

“Then indulge me. I am agog with curiosity. Come, let us sit while you relate your story.”

She hesitated, suddenly aware again of her bare feet and scanty attire. “I am not dressed to entertain an interview with a gentleman,” she hedged, pulling his greatcoat more tightly around her.

Haviland flashed her a grin. “After our kissing so
thoroughly, I think we may dispense with the usual proprieties, don’t you?”

She liked the gleam of humor in his blue eyes but not the determination she saw there, as if he would brook no further protest from her. Suspecting he wouldn’t let her go until she explained, though, Madeline sat on the far end of the sofa, while Haviland settled on the other.

Since she didn’t want his pity, she didn’t linger on the details, merely recounted the most important events of late.

“Until three weeks ago, I earned my living as a lady’s companion to an elderly noblewoman, but my employer passed away before writing me a character reference. And without one, it is better to apply in person when seeking work. I meant to visit an employment agency as soon as I reached London, but then the stage broke down and stranded me here for the night.”

“Which allowed Lord Ackerby to catch up to you,” Haviland concluded.

“Yes.” Madeline wrinkled her nose. “To my great regret.”

He was studying her again with that same intrigued expression. “You seem to be making light of what could have been a dangerous situation.”

She managed a wry smile. “It was only dangerous if I could not handle his lordship. But I was armed, and I am accounted an excellent shot, thanks to my father.” Recalling the primed pistol she still held, Madeline set the weapon carefully on the sofa. “I admit I’ve had a spell of exceedingly bad luck recently, but hopefully it will not last.”

“What of your brother?” Haviland asked. “Isn’t he old enough by now to protect you?”

The hardening of his tone took her aback. “In age, I suppose he is. Gerard is twenty now, four years younger than I. But he is occupied with more important matters at the moment.”

“What could be more important than protecting his sister when she is in dire straits?”

Madeline debated how much to say about her brother’s elopement with Lynette Dubonet two days ago. It was not her secret to share, especially since the girl’s parents—the Vicomte and Vicomtesse de Vasse—were not even aware of the marriage yet. The aristocratic émigrés were staunchly set against their only child’s union to an untitled Englishman whose chief wealth consisted of a modest farm. But Gerard was madly in love with Lynette, and Madeline wanted her brother’s happiness more than anything in the world. Thus, she had helped to fund their dash to Gretna Green in Scotland so they could be married over the anvil.

“Gerard is traveling just now,” Madeline responded to Haviland’s query. “And in his defense, he had no notion that Lord Ackerby would pursue me once I left Chelmsford for London. Neither of us did. I am not dependent on my brother to find genteel employment, however.”

“What sort of employment are you seeking?”

She answered readily enough. “I would prefer another post as a companion … although I acted more nurse to Lady Talwin this past year. She was frequently in pain, so much of my responsibility consisted of cajoling her to take her medicines and allow a breath of fresh air into her stuffy sickroom. I refused to let her sink into despair. We sparred far more than is usual for a lady and her servant.
But our rows seemed to bolster her spirits, if not her failing health.”

Madeline smiled sadly at the memory of the dear, crotchety noblewoman. She missed the elderly Lady Talwin and doubted she would find another employer so well matched to her own temperament and mind.

Haviland’s heavy brows had lowered as his expression grew thoughtful. “Are there other positions you would consider taking?”

She eyed him curiously, wondering at his persistence. “Perhaps a governess would suit. I am fairly adept with children. I raised my brother from the time I was thirteen, after
Maman
died, since my father was away for much of the year.” Her lips twisted with dry humor. “But I may not be acceptable to certain employers. I am known for speaking my mind. Lady Talwin appreciated my tart tongue, for it ‘kept her wits sharp,’ she was fond of saying. But not all employers are agreeable to having outspoken underlings in their households, particularly noble households.”

“And you have no marital expectations at present?”

She gazed at Haviland blankly now, startled by the bluntness of his question. “I beg your pardon?”

“You could marry and solve your financial problems.”

“That presumes that I have any reasonable prospects. But gentlemen are not in the habit of proposing to penniless spinsters.”

His brows drew together. “Are you penniless then? I should have thought your father would have provided for you.”

Madeline stirred uncomfortably on the sofa. “The direction of this conversation has grown rather personal, has it not, my lord?”

Haviland smiled a bit ruefully at her pointed remark. “Forgive me, Miss Ellis. These past dozen years I’ve spent less time in polite company than most peers. My social manners are not the best. In truth, I am only concerned for your welfare. But rest assured, you needn’t worry about Ackerby any further. I will see you safely to London as soon as I conclude my business here at The Drake.”

At his disarming apology, her resistance had begun to ease, but Madeline’s eyebrows shot up when he added his calm announcement about conveying her to London.
“You
will take me?”

“Yes. My carriage is in the stableyard.”

“I cannot travel to London with you, Lord Haviland. For all that you were close to my father, you are a perfect stranger to me.”

“No,” Haviland countered easily. “Even though we have never met until now, we are certainly not strangers. Come now.” His tone lightened, becoming more charming and persuasive than commanding. “You claimed me as your protector a few moments ago. You should allow me to fulfill the role for a while longer.”

Madeline flushed in remembrance of her own boldness. “You know I did not mean it. I only wished to dampen Baron Ackerby’s ardor.”

“Which you did admirably. But I am not in the same league as that lecher. You may trust me, Miss Ellis. There is nothing untoward in my offer. And there is no question about my helping you, either. Your father saved my life. I owe him a debt I can never repay.”

Madeline’s speechlessness returned as she realized Lord Haviland was truly serious about taking responsibility for her welfare.

When she remained uncustomarily silent, he continued as if musing aloud. “I would invite you to reside with me until you find employment. I have several homes … a town house in London, a family seat in Kent, a country villa near Chiswick, and other properties as well. But that obviously won’t do, since a single lady cannot properly live with a bachelor. However, there is a quiet hotel in London that is appropriate for gentlewomen,” Haviland added before Madeline could respond.

“I’m afraid I could not afford a hotel. I mean to take a room at an inexpensive lodging house.”

“I would be happy to fund your stay.”

Madeline shook her head firmly. “I will not accept your charity, Lord Haviland.”

“It isn’t charity in the least. Think of it as my belatedly fulfilling an obligation to a friend.”

“Lord Haviland,” she said with growing exasperation. “I have always fended for myself, and I mean to do so now.”

“Perhaps you have, but these are unusual circumstances.”

Straightening her spine, Madeline enunciated slowly, as if he might be hard of hearing. “I assure you, I can manage on my own.”

“I have no trouble believing that, but my conscience would give me no peace if I left you to your own devices.”