To Tame a Dangerous Lord (45 page)

Flinging wide the carriage door, Rayne stepped into the opening. Lady Haviland sat stiffly on the far side of the barouche, her spine rigid as she stared straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge him.

“It is time for you to proffer my wife a sincere apology for your shameless meddling, Grandmother,” Rayne prodded.

At his demand, however, the noblewoman visibly bristled. “I refuse to hold this discussion in front of the servants, sir,” she declared with an imperious wave of her hand to indicate her coachmen and grooms.

Her staff, however, was not their only audience, Rayne noted, since Freddie had followed him outside, as had two of his own footmen. Yet he was unswayed by her argument. “Do you think I give a damn who hears?”

At his adamant tone, his grandmother’s expression changed, while her own voice softened to hold an almost pleading note. “Rayne, do you not see? I only have your best interests at heart. You made a dreadful mistake, marrying as you did. I wanted heirs to the Haviland title, true, but not at this price.”

“Grandmother …” Rayne said warningly, his anger rising.

In response, Lady Haviland gave a faint cry and clutched her hand to her heart. As she slumped against the corner seat, Rayne ground his teeth. He’d seen this same dramatic performance before, more than once. Suspecting she was feigning a heart seizure yet again, he decided to call her bluff.

“Muller, please take Lady Haviland directly to her
doctors in London. She is too weak to continue this discussion at the moment and needs to be confined to her bed.”

His command had the desired effect. As he made to shut the carriage door, Lady Haviland sat up abruptly. “No, wait!”

Rayne drew Madeline forward, holding her tucked against his side, as if sheltering her from attack. And when his grandmother gave his wife a scathing glance, he laid down his gauntlet. “If I must choose between the two of you, Grandmother, it will be Madeline. I love her, and I intend to keep her as my wife. There will be no question of annulment.”

He felt Madeline stiffen against him. She had been watching the elderly noblewoman, but at his declaration, her shocked gaze lifted to his.

Her luminous eyes held confusion and doubt as she whispered in disbelief, “You love me?”

Rayne gave her a tender smile. “More than I can say, sweetheart.”

Returning his attention to his grandmother, he said in a cutting tone, “You will accept her into the family or I will have nothing more to do with you. Until then, you are not welcome here or at any of my homes.”

Lady Haviland had set her jaw stubbornly, but it went slack at his threat. Evidently she believed him, for she finally muttered, “Well then, if you insist…. I
apologize
.”

“That is not good enough,” Rayne snapped. “You should direct your apology to my wife.”

The dowager pressed her lips together tightly, her expression sour. But then exhaling a peeved sigh, she gave
in. “I beg your forgiveness, Miss Ellis—That is, Lady Haviland. I should not have interfered in your affairs.”

Rayne started to remonstrate at her spiteful tone, but Madeline placed a hand on his arm.

“Thank you, my lady,” she said softly. “If you agree, we will forget this contretemps entirely and put it down to a misunderstanding.”

Lady Haviland looked as if she might refuse the offer of peace, but eventually she gave a brusque nod.

“That will do for now,” Rayne said tersely, deciding not to force the issue any further at the moment. Although it was not the concession he wanted, his grandmother had made a significant step with her grudging apology, and Madeline was evidently willing to drop the matter. Rayne felt his heart swell at her generosity.

Signaling to the coachman, Rayne stepped back, drawing Madeline with him. They both watched as the coachman flicked his whip at the team and the barouche pulled away.

Then Rayne turned to Madeline. She was gazing up at him, the look in her eyes one of longing, of hope—her expression exactly mirroring the emotions he felt.

Madeline scarcely dared breathe as she stared up at Rayne. Her heart had begun to slam in slow, painful strokes while her thoughts and emotions rioted.

“Have I rendered you speechless for once?” he asked softly.

She tried to swallow past the dryness in her throat. “I think perhaps you have.”

Realizing how her voice quavered with uncertainty, Madeline steeled herself to pose the crucial question that had haunted her since receiving his grandmother’s shattering proposition. “Did you mean it? You don’t want an annulment?”

“Not only do I not want an annulment,” Rayne declared, “I would hunt you down to the ends of the earth if you tried to leave me.”

His un-loverlike vow might be based purely on male possessiveness, Madeline thought, dazed, but at least it gave her reason to hope that Rayne wanted to keep her as his wife.

On the other hand, his shocking declaration of love
had been made in the heat of anger at his elderly relative. Could she possibly let herself believe that he truly meant it?

Oddly, the look in Rayne’s eyes was a mixture of regret and worry as he regarded her with a searching gaze. “I understand my grandmother offered you fifty thousand pounds to annul our marriage, Madeline.”

“Yes,” she said, still hoarse.

“I was terrified you would accept.”

Rayne
was terrified? Not a tenth as terrified as
she
had been, she would wager.

Madeline shook her head adamantly. “I don’t want your grandmother’s money, Rayne.”

“Why then did you tell her you would consider her offer?”

“Because I thought she was making it on your behalf—that you wanted me to agree to an annulment.”

A muscle flexed in his jaw. “No, I knew nothing about it. If I had, I would have done my damnedest to spare you her vitriol. I am so very sorry, sweetheart. Her intrusion was outrageous and unforgivable.”

Squeezing her eyes shut briefly, Madeline gave a deep shudder of relief. “I thought an annulment would be in your best interests,” she whispered. “Lady Haviland believes you deserve a wife who can move in your social circles and enhance your standing in the ton.”

Rayne’s expression remained solemn. “I don’t care what she believes. You know I don’t give a damn about the ton. Besides, you are perfectly qualified to move in any circles you choose—mine, hers, the Crown’s, anywhere.”

Madeline inhaled a shaky breath. Hope filled her chest
along with a faint, burgeoning feeling of joy. Did she dare give in to it?

Aloud, she added haltingly, “The difference in our social stations was not the only reason I thought an annulment might be best for you. Lady Haviland also told me you wouldn’t inherit a penny of her fortune if I remained wedded to you.”

His gaze narrowed. “So you were trying to protect my inheritance?”

“Well … yes.”

Rayne looked as if he was striving for patience. “In the first place, I have my own fortune and don’t need my grandmother’s.”

“You do?”

“Yes. I am a very wealthy man. Didn’t you realize it?”

“No,” Madeline said weakly. “Your sisters were extremely worried that their sons would be cut off from your grandmother’s largesse. And Freddie said she was holding her fortune over your head to force you to take a suitable wife.”

“That isn’t the case at all. Thanks to several wise investments in the East India Company, I am nearly as well off as my grandmother, so you needn’t sacrifice our marriage for my sake.”

“Oh,” she murmured.

“Have you nothing else to say?”

In truth, she did, but she had difficulty gathering her courage, fearing Rayne’s response. Finally, though, Madeline forced the words out. “Did … did you mean it? You truly love me?”

His features softened. “Absolutely, I meant it. I truly love you, sweet Madeline.”

A sharp, fierce joy hit her. She felt shaky, trembling inside.

At her speechlessness, Rayne moved closer. Reaching up, he curved his palm gently against her cheek, taking care to avoid the bruised skin there, and bent his head as if intending to kiss her….

Before his lips met hers, however, Madeline heard the sound of a throat being cleared. A fierce wave of disappointment shot through her at the reminder that they were not alone; Freddie still hovered nearby, although one of Rayne’s footmen had disappeared, leading his horse around to the stables, and the other had withdrawn a discreet distance.

“By Jove,” Freddie enthused, “now
that
is a romantic vow if I have ever heard one. You should be quite happy now, Madeline. All your fears were for naught.”

Flustered by their unwanted audience, Madeline drew back from Rayne, while Freddie continued his cheerful observations. “Rumor has it that Rayne is the ideal lover, but I can clearly see that for myself now. No doubt I could take lessons from him—”

“Freddie, old friend,” Rayne interrupted sharply, “will you please make yourself scarce? Whatever your problems, they will have to wait for some future time. At the moment, I require privacy with my wife.”

“Certainly,” Freddie said, grinning. “I am merely reveling in the chance to crow. It is about time you succumbed to love. I was growing weary of always being the besotted one. And just think,
I
am responsible for your matchmaking—”

“Freddie,” Rayne growled.

“Very well, I am leaving! But Madeline, when you are
free, pray remember that I need you to champion me with Miss Merrywether’s mama.”

“I will, Freddie,” she promised, although all her attention was on her husband.

Rayne responded in kind, taking her hand and touching his lips to her fingers. “Shall we continue this conversation inside, love?” he asked. “We have some very private matters to discuss.”

When Madeline gave him a shaky smile of agreement, his large, warm hand settled on the small of her back and guided her up the front steps of the manor, leaving Freddie behind to arrange for his curricle to be brought around.

Once inside the house, Rayne led her to his study and shut the door firmly behind them. “Now, where were we?”

Having halted, Madeline turned to face him expectantly. “You were about to kiss me if I recall.”

A quick smile flashed across his mouth, then disappeared. “I would like to do much more than kiss you, love, but I believe I must first proffer you an abject apology. For my grandmother, and more important, for myself.”

Hiding her regret, Madeline quelled her need to feel Rayne’s reassuring embrace and said simply, “I don’t need apologies, Rayne. I only need to know you love me.”

His eyes were intent and very blue. “I
do
love you, Madeline. And I am not about to let you leave me. But at least allow me to explain why I was so resistant to you.”

She did want very much to hear his explanation, so
she accompanied Rayne to the sofa, where he drew her down beside him.

“I admit I tried my damnedest not to fall in love with you,” he began. “In fact, I planned never to feel anything resembling love for the rest of my life.”

Held transfixed by his gaze, Madeline ventured a guess at what had precipitated his resolution. “Freddie said you once experienced a tragic love affair and never recovered.”

Rayne grimaced. “Freddie is a damned rattlepate.”

“But is it true?”

“Yes—although my story was not exactly tragic. Some years ago I fell in love with a Frenchwoman who pretended to return my ardor so that I would save her aristocratic family from persecution. But as soon as they were safely in England, she cast me aside to return to her lover.”

Madeline felt a protective rush of sympathy at Rayne’s confession. “She must have been mad to prefer anyone over you,” she declared loyally.

Again his smile was fleeting. “I am honored by the compliment, sweeting—but in all honesty, I could understand her desire to be united with her lover. Yet having my first youthful love betrayed set me on my guard. After the war’s end, I returned home to England determined to remain forever unencumbered by emotional attachments.” He reached up and stroked her cheek with a fingertip. “But you changed all that for me, Madeline.”

“It did not seem so,” she said in a small voice. “Since we spoke our vows, you have grown more and more distant by the day.”

“I know, and I regret my retreat, sweetheart. My only
excuse is that I needed time to acknowledge my feelings for you.”

Capturing her hand in his, Rayne laced their fingers together. “I should have suspected my undoing much earlier. When I was with you, you drove me wild, and when we were apart, I thought about you constantly. The most telling sign, though, was that I flew into a jealous rage every time Ackerby came near you, when normally I am notoriously even-tempered.”

Both of Madeline’s eyebrows lifted. “You really were jealous?”

“Supremely.”

She shook her head, marveling at Rayne’s admission. “I have never known any man to feel jealousy on my account.”