To Tame a Dangerous Lord (30 page)

Judging that enough time had passed for him to safely return home, Rayne penned his new wife a note, saying to expect him early Tuesday afternoon, nearly a week after taking their nuptial vows.

When he arrived at Riverwood, however, he was informed by Bramsley that Lady Haviland had just left for the Freemantle Academy and planned to be there the remainder of the day.

Rayne stifled his odd twinge of disappointment, since going their separate ways as husband and wife was precisely what he wanted from his marriage. Repairing to his study, he turned his attention to the estate business that had accumulated during his absence.

When Madeline finally did appear, she halted in the doorway and eyed Rayne where he sat behind his desk.

“Welcome home, my lord,” she said pleasantly as she proceeded to remove her gloves and bonnet. “I trust your business dealings in London were successful.”

Rayne recognized the stab of pleasure he felt at hearing Madeline’s voice and seeing her for the first time
since their wedding night. Upon realizing how much he had missed her during their separation, however, he frowned at himself. Then his gaze arrested as he took in her appearance.

Madeline looked different somehow. She wore a royal blue, short-waisted spencer over a pale blue kerseymere gown that was the height of elegance.

“Is that one of your new gowns?” he asked, trying to pinpoint the difference in her as he rose to his feet.

“Yes. Arabella recently took me shopping in London.”

“I know. Bramsley informed me.”

Madeline stiffened slightly although her tone remained bland when she asked, “Oh, is Bramsley giving you daily reports on my activities?”

“He gives me regular reports on everything having to do with the estate.”

“I see. Then I had best watch myself,” she replied, dimpling, “since you have so many spies in your household.”

Rayne couldn’t tell if she was jesting—but then she changed the subject by turning slowly in a circle to show off her gown. “I am grateful for Arabella’s attempt to bring me into fashion, but you may regret your generosity when you see the bills. I made a large dent in the dress allowance you arranged for me.”

“I have already seen some of the bills, but I don’t regret the expense in the least,” he assured her.

“To be truthful, neither do I. Your grandmother seemed to think the rags I wore were not befitting a countess.”

Rayne winced. “Did she demean your attire?”

“Among other things,” Madeline answered lightly.

Realizing that she hadn’t crossed the threshold into his study, Rayne came out from behind his desk and moved toward her. “I am sorry you had to endure her reproach, sweetheart. I imagine it was exceedingly unpleasant.”

“It was a little uncomfortable,” Madeline acknowledged. “But then it was to be expected. I knew she would never approve of me. In fact, I warned you, you will remember.”

“So you did, but my grandmother’s opinion has no bearing on our marriage.”

“Still, I truly am sorry for coming between you,” Madeline murmured, her tone holding genuine regret.

Rayne shook his head as he came to a halt before her. “You are not to blame whatsoever….”

His voice trailed off. Her hairstyle was different, he realized, and so was her face.

Yet before he could comment, she interrupted his thoughts. “Have you had tea yet?”

“Not yet. I was waiting for you.” He had supposed they would sit down together over tea so that he could catch up on her past week.

Madeline flashed him a rueful smile, however. “I am sorry for inconveniencing you, my lord, but I partook of an ample tea with our pupils at the academy. I will ask Bramsley to serve you at once. Meanwhile, I hope you will excuse me. I mean to go upstairs and take a bath. I have become quite fond of your marvelous bathing chamber. It is a luxury I never dreamed of.”

Rayne meant to take Madeline to task for addressing him as “my lord” a second time, but the image of her bathing her luscious body hit him hard in the loins and totally distracted him. And her next casual comment struck him even more forcefully:

“You are welcome to share my bathwater. It seems a shame to waste so much hot water, even if you can well afford it. I should be finished by the time you have your tea.”

Turning away from the doorway, she strolled down the corridor toward the front entrance hall.

Rayne watched her leave, his brows furrowed as he followed the gentle sway of her hips. Had Madeline just asked him to join her bath? Or was she merely being frugal in wanting to conserve hot water and thus proposing he bathe after her?

Either way, Rayne couldn’t get her suggestion out of his mind as he returned to work. A half hour later he gave up all pretense of concentration.

No doubt it would be folly to join his new wife in the bathing chamber, yet he couldn’t stay away.

   Madeline reclined against the sloping back of the large copper hip bath, counting the passing minutes along with the rapid beats of her heart. Ordinarily she relished luxuriating in the silken heat of so much water, but anticipation was twisting knots in her belly while she waited to see if Rayne would join her.

She had surprised him, that much was evident. His eyes had darkened as he’d stared at her, trying to divine her intent—which was precisely what Fanny Irwin had predicted he would do.

Thus far Fanny’s plan seemed to be working. Madeline had deliberately delayed at the academy long after Rayne was expected home so as not to appear at his beck and call. A woman who was too available was much less of a prize for a man, according to Fanny, so it was wise to keep him guessing.

Madeline wasn’t certain she had the confidence required to carry out her campaign, even after all of Fanny’s expert counsel. She had never been a seducer or siren. But she’d prepared as carefully as she could for this moment, laying out linen towels and scented soaps before undressing and sinking into the bathwater up to her shoulders.

Her heart thundered in her chest when at last she heard a swift rap on the door, followed by Rayne softly calling her name.

“You may enter,” she replied, sitting up.

As the door opened to admit him, Madeline modestly reached for a linen towel she’d left lying on the stool beside the tub and held it up to shield her naked torso from his view. Rayne was unaware of the assault she intended to launch against him, and she intended to play the innocent as long as possible.

“I am sorry for my tardiness,” she apologized as he shut the chamber door behind him, “but I am not quite finished with my bath. The hot water was just too alluring. Do you mind waiting a few more minutes?”

She kept her look guileless, even though the giddy rush of nerves was making her light-headed. Rayne’s expression, on the other hand, was more piercing than usual.

“No, I don’t mind,” he said, settling onto the adjacent stool.

Madeline gazed up at him beneath her lashes, hoping she looked properly flustered at having an audience. “Do you mean to watch me?”

“You needn’t be shy. I have seen all your lovely charms before, remember?” When she hesitated, Rayne
added in an amused tone, “You cannot very well bathe holding a towel.”

“True.” Nervous laughter escaped her throat. She would have to do better than this, Madeline scolded herself. Fanny had schooled her over countless hours, and so she had the necessary knowledge to become a
femme fatale
. She just needed to apply it.

“Very well,” Madeline murmured, tossing the towel aside.

If her goal just now was to tempt Rayne while letting him think he was the pursuer, her ploy seemed to be working. She felt his hot gaze rivet on her bare, glistening breasts.

Madeline permitted herself a faint inward smile. Now that she had his undivided attention, it was time to ratchet up the stakes.

Shifting her position, she rose to her knees and reached over the high side of the tub, into the basket resting on the floor. Retrieving a cake of fine soap, Madeline sank back down, but only enough so that the water level was above her waist. With slow deliberation she drew the bar over her naked shoulders, then down her throat and between her wet breasts.

“This soap is sinfully lavish, softer on my skin than any I have ever known. It is French, is it not?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Rayne said slowly. “Bramsley is in charge of household purchases.”

Was it her imagination or had his voice suddenly grown thick? She couldn’t tell when he asked in an amiable way, “Do you need my help washing? Would you like me to scrub your back?”

Not wanting to seem too eager, Madeline declined his
offer with a knowing smile. “Thank you, but I can manage.”

Rayne continued to watch her intently as she soaped herself, but only a short while later he broke the silence with an observation.

“There is something different about you. It is more than just your new gown.”

“I took your advice and styled my hair in a modish way.”

She had gathered the length of brown hair and twisted it into a loose knot on the top of her head, leaving numerous damp tendrils to curl around her face.

“It’s very becoming.”

Madeline let herself blush at his compliment, deepening the rose hue of her skin which was already flushed from the moist steam in the room. “I admit it is gratifying to look well. You wouldn’t understand because you have always been beautiful.”

“Beautiful?” Rayne protested with an edge of humor.

“For a man, you are strikingly beautiful.”

She saw the tug of an appreciative smile at her flattery. “And you always have been too self-conscious about your appearance, sweetheart.”

That wasn’t quite true, Madeline knew. Until meeting Rayne, she had never been particularly sensitive about her looks, for there was no man she’d wanted to captivate. “It is easy for you to dismiss the issue of appearance. You never had to deal with the affliction of being plain.”

“You are not plain any longer.”

“Thank you,” she replied, somehow managing to keep her tone light and to hide the warm glow his praise engendered. “But I collect you benefit as well. If you find
me more attractive, it will be easier for you to achieve your goal.”

“My goal?”

“Of begetting an heir. Isn’t that why you wed me?”

“In part.”

“Perhaps we should take this opportunity then. You proved that one can make love in a coach. Can it be accomplished in a bathtub?”

The heavy fringe of his lashes lowered over his breathtaking blue eyes. Rayne was considering her, judging her, trying to determine her intent. “What are you implying, Madeline?” he finally asked. “Do you want me to make love to you here and now?”

She gave a shrug of her bare shoulders. “It is merely a suggestion. I suspect it will take longer to sire a child if we keep separate bedchambers and you only share my bed during conjugal visits. But I want to fulfill my part of our bargain, Rayne.”

Madeline could hear her heart beating as she waited for his answer. She truly wanted to give Rayne a child, but just this moment she would settle for arousing his passion.

“Indeed,” she added, dropping her own voice so that it was low and husky, “I consider it my duty to make love to you.”

“Your duty,” he repeated dispassionately.

She let her eyes tease him. “A very pleasant duty, of course.”

Her throaty voice seemed to affect him, for he smiled a slow, sensual smile. “I am at your command, wife.”

“Why don’t you undress then?”

Standing, Rayne complied, shedding his clothing without further comment.

The memory of his naked body danced across her mind, but a memory couldn’t compare to Rayne in the flesh. Madeline caught her breath at the raw power of his tall, sinewed male form.

There was something untamed about him, an intense edge that didn’t fit the conventional boundaries of a nobleman of leisure. That magnificent chest, for instance, was solid with muscle, while his thighs were those of an athletic horseman who had spent long hours in the saddle.

She could scarcely believe this glorious man was her husband. It was even harder to credit that she could arouse his lust so strongly, even though Rayne had told her from the first that he wanted her. Yet his desire for her was evident, she realized, following the line of dark hair trailing down his belly to his loins where the thick length of his arousal jutted out.

Madeline bit her lip, remembering the feel of him moving inside her, the incredible pleasure he had given her. This time, however,
his
pleasure was her primary aim. A shiver stole through her at the prospect.

His movements were lithe and graceful as he climbed into the bath with her. Madeline moved to the foot to allow him room, causing water to lap at the edges of the tub, while Rayne positioned his back against the higher end.

“Now what did you have in mind?” he asked, the sound rich and very male.

When she felt a rush of heat at the husk in his voice, Madeline murmured a silent oath, vexed at herself for reacting that way. She was supposed to remain in control, ravishing Rayne while letting him think it was his idea entirely.

“You are the expert lover,” she replied. “I will leave it to you.”

“Come here then,” he commanded. “You are too far away.”

Still kneeling, Madeline moved between his spread thighs. Rayne was close enough that she could smell the musky scent of his skin mixed with the fresh fragrance of soap. Yet apparently it was not near enough for him, for he slid a possessive arm around her waist. Madeline found herself drawn against the hard planes of his body, the heavy fullness of him pressing against her belly.

“I shaved this morning,” he told her, “but I fear my jaw may be too rough for your tender skin.”

She regarded his handsome features, seeing the shadow of stubble on the lower part of his face, but shook her head. “I don’t mind.”

“Good, because I want to kiss you.”

He ran his thumb over her lower lip with a sensuous stroke, then lowered his head to hers. His mouth was a wicked warmth, his lips gliding over hers with seductive pressure. Understandably, Madeline fell headlong into his kiss, drinking him in, relishing the dance of their mating tongues. When finally Rayne set her mouth free, she drew back, dazed by the piercing arousal he’d stirred in her.