To Tame a Dangerous Lord (44 page)

So why did it feel as if her own life was hanging in the balance? Madeline wondered desolately. And why was it so hard for her to make the noble choice?

A warning shout rang out across from the Parliament building, alerting Rayne of the danger to his charge. Acting instantly at the prearranged signal, he shoved England’s portly Prince Regent to the pavement and covered the great bulk with his own body, much to the chagrin of His Royal Highness. Yet the pistol shot that immediately followed whistled harmlessly overhead.

Moments later, Rayne glanced across the street to see a cadre of agents led by Will Stokes swarm three armed culprits, who seemed shocked to have their assassination plot foiled.

Meanwhile, Prinny lay beneath Rayne, gasping and cursing. However, upon realizing that only his dignity had suffered, the prince broke into a sheepish grin.

“By God, you were right, Haviland. They were out to kill me.”

“Fortunately they missed, Your Highness,” Rayne said, helping the corpulent prince to his feet to the tune of creaking corsets.

“My thanks to you, Haviland. How can I ever repay you?”

“There is no need, Highness. But you might recognize the efforts of Runner Will Stokes. Stokes put a great deal of time into vouchsafing your protection this past sennight.”

“That I will,” the Regent agreed. “And I will also mention your services to your grandmother. Mary raised a formidable grandson, if you ask me.”

“Thank you, sire,” Rayne said in a drier tone.

He stepped back as the Regent’s usual retinue came rushing toward him in alarm. Prinny himself did not seem overly upset, as a man who had just escaped death ought to be. Indeed, he appeared rather cheerful about the thwarted assault. Perhaps because although he was reviled in many quarters for his infamous extravagances, an attempt on his life might actually raise his stock in public opinion. While his subjects might not care for his policies or personal conduct, most did not want him
dead
.

Rayne turned Prinny over to his royal coterie with a bow and extricated himself. Then moving through the gawking crowds, he crossed the street to find Will supervising the arrest of the three main perpetrators. None of them bothered protesting their innocence, since they’d been caught red-handed after being carefully followed for days.

Happily, the extensive surveillance Rayne had arranged was paying off. These three plotters would be put on trial and their fellow conspirators rounded up. Rayne was confident that with the preponderance of evidence against them, they would likely be found guilty.

As the three were being bound and loaded into a
wagon to be taken to the Old Bailey, Rayne reflected on the irony of having to deal with prisoners twice in as many days.

“Excellent job, my friend,” he said to Will. “His Highness sends his compliments, by the by.”

Will grinned more broadly than Prinny had. “You and I still work well as a team, old chap.”

“So we do,” Rayne agreed.

“Are you certain I cannot persuade you to join Bow Street?”

“Not at present—although I promise to give your suggestion due consideration. Pray excuse me now, however. I have some urgent personal business to attend to.”

“Your new bride,” Will commented with a slyly amused glance.

“Just so,” Rayne replied, inwardly grimacing.

He was anxious to return to Riverwood. He hadn’t liked sending Madeline home when they had so many critical issues to settle between them. And now that he’d done his duty by his country’s sovereign, impatience was gnawing at Rayne relentlessly, along with his guilty conscience. He owed Madeline a more abject apology than the unsatisfactory one he’d given her yesterday.

To make amends, Rayne intended to stop by his town house briefly on the way to collect the best pieces of the Haviland jewels. He would also order Walters to oversee his affairs until further notice, since he was planning an extended absence from London. Directly afterward, Rayne would hasten to Riverwood, where he hoped to spend some very private time with Madeline, attempting to resolve the turmoil he’d created in their marriage.

To his surprise, however, when he reached Bedford
Avenue, his younger sister met him at his front door in place of Walters, and she was clearly distressed.

“Thank heavens you are here, Rayne,” Daphne declared, dragging him inside. “I must speak to you at once.”

“What is it, love?” Rayne asked, noting that Walters was hovering nearby.

Daphne allowed the servant to withdraw a circumspect distance before saying fretfully, “I came straightaway to warn you. I thought you should know what scheme Grandmama is plotting against your new wife.”

Rayne felt his stomach muscles clench. “What do you mean, plotting?”

“Grandmama went to Riverwood this afternoon, intending to offer Madeline a huge sum so that your marriage can be dissolved.”

“Dissolved?”

“As in annulled,” Daphne explained worriedly.

A dozen questions streaked through Rayne’s mind, but he settled for a simple one. “How did you learn of her scheme, Daphne?”

“She mentioned it to Penelope, and Pen let it slip to me. Grandmama told her not to worry—that your marriage would not stand.”

His muscles coiled even tighter. After the groundless accusations he’d made, Madeline might be eager to find a way out of their marriage, enough to accept a generous offer of independence.

“Walters!” Rayne barked at his aide’s retreating form.

“Yes, my lord?”

“Have a swift horse saddled for me at once.”

Riding would be much faster than traveling by coach or even curricle. Moreover, it would take precious moments
to harness either carriage, moments Rayne feared he didn’t have.

“Certainly, my lord,” Walters replied before leaving promptly to do his bidding.

“Where are you going?” Daphne asked as Rayne spun on his heel and headed for his study.

“Where do you think? I need to find my wife before it is too late.”

When Daphne tried to follow him, Rayne halted long enough to grasp her by the shoulders and plant a swift kiss on her forehead. “You have my utmost gratitude, sweetheart, but you may go home now.” Then pointing his sister at the front door, he gave her a gentle push.

As he continued on his way to the study, however, Daphne called after him. “I like Madeline a great deal, Rayne. I don’t want Grandmama to interfere with your chance at happiness.”

“Trust me, I won’t allow her to,” he said determinedly. “Now take yourself home and let me deal with our grandmother.”

Not waiting to see if Daphne obeyed, Rayne entered his study. After retrieving a key from his desk, he opened his safe and withdrew a large velvet-covered box. Ten minutes later, he was riding toward Chiswick at a gallop, the jewel case strapped to the rear of his saddle.

His fresh mount ate up the miles, yet Rayne still had too much time to dwell on his frantic thoughts. The fear welling inside him was perhaps the closest he’d ever felt to true panic.

His chest was wire-tight, and so was his gut. He couldn’t lose Madeline now just when he’d come to realize how much she meant to him. Yet he might very
well have driven her away. His grandmother’s financial proposition could be the final blow.

Without a doubt he was outraged and furious at his elderly relative’s machinations, and he intended to stop the dowager’s meddling once and for all. But for now he had to intercept Madeline before she had a chance to leave him.

Even so, Rayne kept a lookout for his grandmother’s carriage as he galloped the road toward Riverwood, while self-recriminations went around and around in his head.

He’d accused Madeline of adultery and lies, yet the real deception had been on
his
part—for convincing himself he wanted nothing more than a marriage of convenience with her.

The truth was staring him in the face, though.

He
loved
Madeline. Loved her deeply.

The power of his new emotions really was not so shocking when he considered it, Rayne realized. He had locked the door on his feelings for so long, he hadn’t even recognized them when they appeared. But his love had been growing from the first moment of meeting her.

His blindness also made perfect sense. In his fierce determination to protect himself, he’d banished tender sentiments like love from his life, keeping his heart frozen by design. But love had little to do with logic. And despite his fear of betrayal, he’d had no choice but to succumb to Madeline.

In her own uniquely spirited way, she had pierced his armor and burrowed unerringly into his heart.

And now? Rayne wondered broodingly.

He’d originally wed her because he needed a wife to give him heirs. But now he wanted so much more. He
wanted Madeline as his friend, his lover, his life’s mate, not merely the mother of his children.

And he wanted her love in return.

Yet what did
she
want?

A fresh wave of apprehension struck Rayne. No doubt he could forcibly prevent Madeline from leaving him, but she might never be able to love him after the unforgivable way he’d treated her.

His gut churning to the rhythm of galloping hoofbeats, he spurred his horse harder, urgency driving him to even greater speed.

   Rayne was barely a mile outside of Chiswick when he recognized the barouche lumbering toward him as belonging to his grandmother. Deliberately he swung to the right and came to a halt directly in the vehicle’s path, where his sweating mount remained prancing and snorting.

At first, Lady Haviland’s coachman whipped up the team as if intending to barrel straight through Rayne. But as the distance closed between them, the servant started sawing frantically on the reins, trying to slow the barouche.

“My lord!” the coachman exclaimed as Rayne nudged his horse sideways at the last moment to avoid a collision. “I mistook you for a footpad.”

“Be easy, Muller. I want a word with my grandmother.”

“Haviland!” an imperious voice demanded. “What on earth is the meaning of this?” The noblewoman had let down the carriage window in order to hail him, Rayne saw.

“I should ask you the same question, Grandmother,” he replied in a dangerously silken tone.

Her lack of protest along with her wary expression told him she knew exactly why he was there.

Rapidly dismounting, Rayne ordered Muller to turn her ladyship’s carriage around and return to Riverwood. Then tying his horse to the rear of the barouche, he climbed inside to confront his relative.

“Why are you behaving in this havey-cavey fashion?” Lady Haviland sputtered, attempting to bluster her way out.

Rayne returned her haughty gaze with a hard one of his own. “I think you know, Grandmother. We have a grave matter to discuss, wouldn’t you agree?”

   His worst fear was that Madeline would be gone by the time they reached Riverwood. His second was that she would be packing. According to his grandmother, Madeline had not refused her offer of fifty thousand pounds out of hand, and had even promised to consider it.

Therefore, as soon as the barouche came to a halt in the drive, Rayne bounded out and threw an order at the coachman before taking the front steps three at a time.

When he shoved open the front door and burst into the entrance hall, the first person he spied was his majordomo.

“Bramsley, where is Lady Haviland?” Rayne demanded.

“In the green parlor, my lord.”

His racing heartbeat slowed the slightest measure. At least she was still here.

“Have my horse stabled,” Rayne ordered as he
brushed past Walters, “and see that the case behind my saddle is brought to my study.”

“Certainly, my lord.”

When he reached the parlor, he found Madeline seated on a sofa.

“Thank God,” Rayne murmured under his breath before realizing her face was buried in her hands.

Then Madeline looked up and noticed him. Her expression held unmistakable pain, Rayne saw, relentlessly flogging himself.

He was vaguely aware that Freddie was present, too, but he only had eyes for his wife.

“Rayne,” she gasped, her voice barely audible. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes, something is very wrong, Madeline,” he said quietly. “I understand my grandmother made you an outrageous financial offer.”

Her eyes were dark and full of despair. “Yes,” she whispered.

“I hope you did not consider it.”

Before she could reply, Freddie stuck his oar in. “It may not be my place to say so, Rayne, but your grandmother is a perfect witch.”

“I completely agree,” Rayne said in a terse voice.

“Then what do you mean to do about her?”

Ignoring his cousin, Rayne held out his hand to Madeline. She might not believe any professions of love just now, so he would just have to show her. “Please, will you come with me, love?”

Her wide, questioning eyes seemed too big for her face, but she rose hesitantly.

Without speaking, Rayne escorted her out to his grandmother’s barouche. He had ordered Muller to remain
there in the drive and was infinitely glad to see he’d been obeyed even though the dowager had very likely threatened her longtime servant with dismissal.