To Tame a Dangerous Lord (38 page)

“James intends to keep on Lady Haviland’s trail and will send word directly here if she continues on her journey.”

“Thank you, Bramsley. You’ve done well. Tell Walters to have my carriage waiting at first light,” Rayne added dismissively, “and take yourself off to bed.”

“If you please, my lord, I would rather return to Riverwood tonight. I have other duties there.”

“As you wish. I will take over from here.”

Bramsley bowed and exited the study, leaving Rayne alone with his tumultuous thoughts.

He had every intention of following his errant wife’s trail to discover what machinations she was involved in. But he would wait until morning. He could depart tonight, but he wanted to delay the moment of truth a little longer.

Rayne uttered a caustic, self-deprecating laugh upon acknowledging his weakness. Perhaps it was craven of him, but he was loath to confirm that Madeline had betrayed him. More crucially, he had no desire to arrive in the middle of the night only to discover his wife in bed with her lover.

Before he could wrench his mind away, the image of Madeline giving her lush, beautiful body to another
man flashed in Rayne’s head. A sensation somewhere between fury and anguish rose up within him, yet he fiercely quelled it, determined to consider the situation with ice-cold logic rather than raw emotion.

With unsteady hands, Rayne poured himself a stiff brandy, then sank onto the sofa and stared unseeingly at the fire. Even so, he knew that neither the potent liquor nor the crackling flames could take away the sudden chill he felt inside.

Be careful what you wish for
, he thought bleakly. He had wanted proof that Madeline was keeping something from him, and now he had it. She’d set out on a clandestine journey and lied about her destination. A journey he would never have known about if not for being alerted by the servants he’d set to spy on her.

Madeline’s furtiveness proclaimed her guilt louder than words—but guilt for what?

Why hadn’t she come to him? If she needed financial help for her brother, as Rayne had earlier surmised, she should have known he would give it, even if it meant funding Gerard’s peccadilloes.

But perhaps the problem was not her brother. Perhaps Madeline had gone to meet not Gerard but Ackerby.

The sick, clammy chill of dread seeped from Rayne’s gut into his heart. Had she gone to meet her lover, just as Camille had done? Was history repeating itself? Ten years ago he had followed Camille to a rendezvous with her lover. It was how he’d learned of her betrayal.

The two cases were eerily similar, Rayne reminded himself grimly. Madeline might not be only out for herself, but it was looking more and more likely that she had sacrificed herself to him in marriage in order to help her brother or even her lover.

Rayne gulped a long, burning swallow of brandy, no longer able to crush the storm of emotions roiling inside him … hurt, anger, bitter disappointment, jealousy, even a twinge of panic.

Even when Camille had broken his youthful heart, he hadn’t felt this kind of pain. Even during his worst missions, when he’d faced danger, treachery, and death, he hadn’t felt this emptiness, this hopelessness. What a fool he’d been to think Madeline an ideal match for him.

He cursed fervently at himself. He had let Madeline inside him. He’d made himself dangerously vulnerable to her, misjudging the very real threat of what she could do to him.

And now he would have to pay for it.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Rayne laid his head back on the sofa. It was going to be a long night, one where he doubted he would get much sleep.

Hearing a carriage arrive in the stableyard of The Blue Boar Inn, Madeline paused in her fretful pacing to glance out the window of her hired room. Upon recognizing the Haviland crest on the coach’s door panel, she gave a start of disbelief.

Merciful heaven, Rayne!
What was he doing here?

Madeline watched in dismay as her tall, powerful husband stepped from the vehicle and glanced upward, his piercing gaze scanning the floors above the inn’s front entrance.

Her heart leaping in panic, she drew back from the window to avoid being seen. Yet Rayne must know she was here. Why else would he have stopped at the very inn where she was waiting for her wayward brother to make an appearance?

How had he even found her? Madeline wondered. And what the devil should she do about it? The proprietor, Ben Pilling, would surely admit to her presence and direct Rayne to her chamber.

Madeline squared her shoulders. She wouldn’t remain
here cowering. It would be far better if she went downstairs to face Rayne before he came in search of her.

Taking a steadying breath, she gathered her reticule and left her room, then negotiated a short stretch of corridor and descended the front staircase to the entrance hall.

As expected, she found Rayne engaged in conversation, but not with the innkeep. Instead, he stood near the open door to the tavern, speaking in low tones with a brown-haired man who looked oddly familiar. Unable to place him, she turned her attention to her husband. Rayne still wore his caped greatcoat but had removed his stylish beaver hat and gloves.

Just then he glanced around and spied Madeline where she had paused on the final stairstep. Rayne didn’t smile or speak. He merely gave her a measuring stare.

For a fleeting moment Madeline could see anger there in his eyes, along with several other indefinable emotions. But then his gaze turned inscrutable again as he crossed the entry hall to her.

“My lord, what brings you here?” she murmured, trying to keep the telltale nervousness from her voice.

“I could ask the same of you, my love.” His own tone was mild, almost silken in fact, but the underlying edge made Madeline swallow. She was loath to tell him about her brother’s theft. And yet she knew she would have no choice but to explain.

When she remained silent, Rayne’s features hardened discernibly. “We had best hold this discussion in private, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yes … of course. I have bespoken a chamber upstairs, if you care to join me.”

After giving a slight nod at the brown-haired man, Rayne took her arm and urged Madeline back up the stairs and down the corridor. When they reached her room, he released his grasp and let her precede him inside.

After a few steps, Madeline turned to face him, but Rayne hesitated on the threshold, filling the doorway, tall, dark, intense. His gaze searched the room, fixing on the neatly made bed for a long heartbeat. Finally, though, he entered and shut the door behind him.

“Well?” Rayne asked in that same silken tone that made her want to shiver. “Would you care to explain what brought you fifty miles from home to sojourn at a strange inn?”

“It is a long story,” Madeline began in a tentative voice.

“I have ample time. I am not going anywhere at the moment.”

She fought the urge to twist the strings of her reticule between her fingers. “How did you know where to find me?”

“I had you followed, sweeting.”

Her eyes widened in bewilderment, then narrowed again as comprehension struck her. The brown-haired man…. Only now did Madeline remember where she’d seen him before. He was Riverwood’s newest footman—John James was his name.

“You set James to spy on me,” she said in disbelief.

“I’d say your clandestine behavior warranted it,” Rayne retorted coldly.

Madeline parted her lips to defend herself, yet she could think of no appropriate reply. Her behavior had indeed warranted Rayne’s suspicions. Yet it still hurt to
know he had trusted her so little that he’d actually ordered his servants to follow her.

Her speechlessness, apparently, resulted in Rayne losing patience. “Whom are you protecting?” he suddenly demanded. “Your brother? Or your lover?”

Madeline gave a start. “My lover?”

His blue eyes pierced her. “It appears as if you have arranged a lovers’ tryst here. Do you dare deny it?”

“Of course I deny it! I have no lover.”

The air between them vibrated with suppressed tension. “You aren’t here to meet Ackerby?” Rayne asked.

That line of attack took Madeline aback even more. “Why on earth would you think I was meeting Ackerby?” she replied in dismay.

“The first time I encountered you, you claimed to be fleeing from him. You were sleeping at an inn, garbed only in your nightdress. Who is to say you weren’t having a lovers’ quarrel then?”

Madeline gazed at Rayne with incredulity. “Are you
mad?
How could you possibly think I would want Ackerby? He makes my skin crawl.”

Rayne stared back at her, all emotion concealed behind his dark-fringed blue eyes.

“He most
certainly
is not my lover!” Madeline insisted.

“Then what was he was doing at Danvers Hall kissing you in the garden?”

At her husband’s harsh tone, she raised her chin defensively. “He came to blackmail me.”

Ire sprang into Rayne’s eyes, then faded as if he’d exerted savage control over all his emotions. Crossing the room, he tossed his hat and gloves on a table. “I think you had best explain,” he said grimly.

“I will gladly do so if you would give me a chance,” Madeline retorted.

When their glances clashed, Rayne visibly clenched his jaw. “Pray continue.” He settled in a chair at the table. “I am waiting.”

Madeline inhaled a deep breath. “The truth is … I am trying to save my brother from being hanged.”

She couldn’t tell from Rayne’s expression if her revelation elicited any sympathy from him, but at least he hesitated before prodding in a slightly less wintry voice, “Go on.”

Madeline did fumble with her purse strings then, slipping them off her wrist as she moved closer to Rayne so she could set her reticule on the table. “Well … you see … Gerard eloped with his childhood sweetheart some three weeks ago, but before he left for Scotland, he stole a priceless heirloom from Lord Ackerby.”

In a halting narrative, Madeline confessed the whole story, including Gerard’s motive for stealing the necklace and his desire to hand it over to his new bride’s parents, who reportedly were the original owners.

She went on to relate the complications of Ackerby’s wrath—that Gerard and Lynette had spent the first week of their married life a short distance from The Blue Boar Inn, at a cottage belonging to Lynette’s cousin, Claude Dubonet; how Gerard had learned about the assault on their housekeeper; and Gerard’s subsequent fears that Ackerby and his henchmen were on his trail, which had scared him into leaving the cottage with his wife and going into hiding.

“Gerard decided to flee to France to avoid Ackerby’s retribution,” Madeline concluded in a small voice, “and so asked me to advance him the funds by letter. But I
came here myself instead, to convince him to return the necklace to Ackerby.”

“You intend to return it?” Rayne asked tersely.

“Of course. It is the only honorable thing to do. The necklace does not belong to Gerard, and he has no right to give it away. And by returning it, I hope to persuade Ackerby to spare my brother a prison sentence or worse.”

Rayne did not appear entirely convinced that she was telling the truth. Did he think her complicit in her brother’s crime? Madeline wondered, watching his face.

His tone held a distinct coldness when he spoke again. “So you lied to me and concealed your whereabouts, professing your destination to be Lady Danvers’s home in London?”

“I did not actually lie to you,” she protested. “I merely did not tell you I was coming here.”

“You lied to Bramsley, which is nearly the same thing.”

“It is not at all the same! I didn’t want your servants or any of your other connections knowing that my brother is a criminal.”

Rayne’s hard gaze searched her face. “So why didn’t you come to me and request my help?”

“Any number of reasons. I didn’t want to burden you with my problems, for one thing. And I needed to act quickly if I hoped to save my brother from his own folly—and to avoid a scandal as well. Your family is already appalled enough by your marriage to me. How would your grandmother react if she learned that Gerard had stolen from a peer? Or if he were thrown in prison or hanged?”

Not replying, Rayne regarded her intently, as if trying to judge her veracity.

Madeline bit her lower lip. She couldn’t tell him the chief reason preventing a scandal was so crucial to her—because she was desperately in love with Rayne and feared losing any chance of winning his love—for then he might pity her and that would be insupportable.

“How was Ackerby blackmailing you?” he finally asked.

“He had just learned about the theft when he came to Danvers Hall,” she answered honestly. “He suggested that if I became his mistress, he would not press charges but allow Gerard to keep the necklace.”

Something dark and dangerous flashed in Rayne’s eyes. “So what did you tell him?”

“I refused, of course. But I promised to make Gerard return his property if indeed he had stolen it. Ackerby said he would allow me time to get the necklace back in exchange for a kiss, and he assaulted me before I had the chance to object.
That
is why you found us kissing in the garden. But then you struck him and knocked him down and goaded him into a duel. He was so furious I feared he would take immediate action against my brother. So I wrote to Ackerby to beg him to hold off until I could speak to Gerard myself and convince him to give up the necklace.”