To Tame a Dangerous Lord (6 page)

“Then I will see you in the morning. As soon as Lady Danvers returns, we will sort out your future employment at her academy.”

When Madeline remained there, eyeing him in mingled exasperation and frustration, Rayne smiled, wanting to reassure her. “I am not abandoning you entirely, Miss Ellis. I only live next door, a scant half mile away as the crow flies. If you find you need my protection, you may send a footman to fetch me. But I doubt the daughter of a war hero will need rescuing.”

At his deliberate challenge, her gaze narrowed in recognition that he’d used her father against her and impugned her courage in the same breath.

The next instant her spine straightened, just as Rayne had expected it would. Then Madeline shook her head in exasperation, while a reluctant smile twitched at her lips. “Do you always employ your persuasive brand of logic to get your way, Lord Haviland?”

“Frequently. But Mr. and Mrs. Simpkin will take good care of you. Won’t you, Simpkin?” he asked in a louder voice.

“Indeed, we will, my lord.”

“There, you see, Miss Ellis? Simpkin, don’t concern yourself with me. I will see myself out.”

He heard Madeline murmur something under her breath as he turned away but didn’t pause to investigate. Instead, Rayne returned to his carriage, satisfied that he had made the right decision by stepping in to alter the course of her life.

The drive to Riverwood took little time, yet Freddie
Lunsford was already awaiting him when he arrived. Freddie had always run tame in Rayne’s various homes and made free with his liquor, so it was not surprising to find his relative ensconced in his study, sprawled on a sofa, staring morosely into a generous glass of brandy.

“Why the long face?” Rayne asked as he poured his own glass. “I said I would help you.”

Freddie barely glanced up. “This is not a long face. This is the depths of despair. You would be despairing, too, if your entire future depended on securing two thousand pounds to pay off a blackmailer.”

“You won’t be paying off the Widow Sauville.”

“No?”

“No. We will get your letters back instead so you may burn them. Otherwise there will be no end to her extortion. She will keep bleeding you dry.”

His expression arrested, Freddie sat upright. “Just how do you mean to accomplish the retrieval of my letters?”

“I haven’t had time to consider a plan, but I will. Cease fretting, man, and leave me to deal with Madame Sauville.”

“By Jove, Rayne, you are a Corinthian. I knew you would not let me down.”

Looking more cheerful, Freddie downed the expensive liquor in one long swallow, then shuddered at the effect.

“Sorry, old chap, for doubting you. It is just that I have been at my wits’ end ever since learning of that viper’s demands. And you were off in Brighton, wooing genteel young ladies at your grandmother’s behest. And then, when at last I manage to get word to you and you agree to meet me, I find you playing Sir Galahad.”

Freddie shuddered again. Rising to replenish his glass,
he gave Rayne a penetrating glance. “I can scarcely credit that you saddled yourself with a spinster. I should think it the last thing you would want, given that you will soon be leg-shackled to a wife.”

“On the contrary, I am looking forward to the diversion,” Rayne said in all sincerity.

He was glad to finally have some excitement in his life. He’d been restless and on edge of late, but in the course of an evening, he had acquired two unexpected challenges to deal with.

A spark of anticipation surged through him. He thrived on action, and solving Freddie’s dilemma and seeing to Miss Madeline Ellis’s welfare was precisely what he needed to harness his restless energy and fill the emptiness in his life.

Furthermore, it would allow him to postpone his search for a bride for a time, and to forget that he had sworn to surrender his much-cherished freedom in order to settle down in matrimony and sire an heir.

Madeline woke reluctantly the next morning, enveloped in the remnants of a delicious dream. For much of the night she’d been held spellbound by Rayne Haviland’s kisses. Loath to leave the delightful fantasy behind, she raised her fingers to her lips, recalling the stunning sensuality, the simmering heat, the ardent tenderness in his touch….

The lovely sensations suddenly burst as Madeline opened her eyes to the cold light of day.

It took a moment, however, for her to recognize her surroundings: a luxurious guest bedchamber at Danvers Hall. Lord Haviland had abandoned her there unceremoniously last night, to her chagrin. But apparently her subconscious had forgiven him in favor of reveling in his sinful kisses.

Vexed at herself for indulging in fruitless dreams, Madeline sighed and shook off the tantalizing memories, then rose to wash and dress. She was foolish to fantasize about Haviland kissing her. Last evening he had simply mistaken her for a lightskirt and had acted with
sheer male lust, taking bold advantage of her presumed availability.

And you responded with unabashed ardor, passionately returning his embrace like any wanton
.

Madeline blushed in acknowledgment of her wicked behavior, and yet she couldn’t help feeling wistful, knowing she would never again experience anything so enthralling. Haviland had promised it would never happen again, and he was a man of his word … to her immense regret.

Muttering a rebuke beneath her breath, she donned her undergarments and then reached for her gown. She wished she had something to wear other than ugly black bombazine—

Immediately Madeline quelled the thought as a pang of conscience struck her.

“I know,
Maman
. I should not be lamenting my lack of pretty clothes when some poor souls have only rags to wear.”

She should not be thinking ill of Lord Haviland either, even if his domineering, take-charge manner was more than a little aggravating. And indeed, she
was
grateful for his generosity in rescuing her. She had needed his help last evening. And because of him, her prospects were looking up.

The possibility of changing her occupation from companion to teacher at a young ladies’ academy held serious appeal. It would be pleasant to no longer be at the beck and call of a cantankerous elderly mistress, Madeline conceded.

Still, it surprised her that Haviland had put off his own pressing affairs in order to escort her here. Based on her admittedly limited experience with noblemen,
she had a rather low opinion of the breed. Quite often, members of the British aristocracy were indolent care-for-nothings.

“But I confess I was impressed with Haviland,
Maman
. Compared to Lord Ackerby, he could not be more different.”

Not only was Haviland more honorable, he had worked his entire life—at a dangerous occupation, no less—even though he certainly had not needed to, given his noble bloodlines and family’s wealth. And he hadn’t seemed to look down his nose at her for working, either. And while she didn’t want to feel obliged to him, it was imperative that she find employment soon so she needn’t rely on her brother to support her. Gerard should begin his married life unburdened by a spinster sister.

Madeline felt a surge of affection at the thought of her younger brother. Marrying his sweetheart was Gerard’s best opportunity for happiness, and she wouldn’t deprive him of this chance. Her great hopes for him stemmed in part because she felt responsible for him. Growing up motherless—and for much of each year, fatherless—she and Gerard had only had each other.

It was Madeline’s most profound regret that their mother had died so young. But their sadness had only been compounded because afterward, Papa had wrapped himself in his work out of grief.

Their parents had been so deeply in love, and now Gerard was over the moon as well. Madeline couldn’t help but envy her brother a little. She had always wanted someone to love, a husband to cherish and grow old with, a tender lover who would give her the children she longed for.

In her wildest dreams she’d envisioned being swept up
into passion and romance. Yet she had never even had a beau. The trouble was, with her rather plain appearance and lack of dowry combined with the demands of her reclusive employer, she had failed to attract any eligible suitors—although infuriatingly enough, she had managed to rouse the unwanted attentions of her lecherous neighbor, Baron Ackerby.

Even so, she yearned for love. Sometimes the feeling was so strong it was a physical ache.

But there was no use dwelling on what she was missing in her life, Madeline sternly reminded herself as she pinned up her brown hair into a simple knot. Moreover, she had more important worries at the moment. The Danvers Hall butler and his housekeeper wife, Mrs. Simpkin, had been unfailingly kind, but Madeline felt exceedingly uncomfortable staying at a noble estate without the owners present.

She intended to call upon Lord Haviland as soon as she finished dressing. Perhaps her trunk had arrived by now, and she needed a change of clothing more suitable to a teacher if she was to have an interview with Lady Danvers later today.

“Otherwise she will think me an old crow,
Maman
, and I will need to impress her if I wish her to hire me for her academy.”

Madeline frowned as she surveyed herself in the small oval mirror on the dressing table, aware that her desire to be more attractive was based in large part on another motive altogether.

She wanted to impress Lord Haviland as well as Lady Danvers.

Which was patently absurd. A man of his stamp could have no romantic interest in her—and she had no business
fostering any romantic interest in him, for she would be doomed to disappointment.

In truth, though, Haviland was someone she could easily come to love. His kindness, his sharp mind, his sense of humor, and even more, his sense of honor, stirred her admiration every bit as much as his devastating kisses had awed her. The thought of facing him again set butterflies leaping in her stomach.

Madeline took a deep breath, striving for composure. Surely in the light of day the Earl of Haviland would not be as overwhelmingly captivating as she had found him last night.

And even if he was, she should be better able to hold her own with him now that she’d had time to regain her emotional footing and recover her usual practical common sense.

With that hopeful reflection, Madeline turned away from the mirror to go in search of Mr. and Mrs. Simpkin.

   “I still worry,” Freddie Lunsford complained as he piled his breakfast plate high from the sideboard, “that you underestimate the urgency of my quandary, Rayne. I have very little time left to thwart Mrs. Sauville and prevent her from revealing my transgressions to my father.”

“I understand the urgency quite well,” Rayne replied absently, his attention more focused on perusing the morning papers.

Freddie settled beside him at the breakfast table but did not appear convinced. “How can you possibly retrieve my letters in time?”

Looking up, Rayne eyed his impatient cousin. Deciding
he might better allay Freddie’s fears by sharing details of the plan that had started to take shape in his mind, Rayne folded his newspaper and set it aside. “I mean to gain access to the Widow Sauville’s London home by attending one of her famous soirées Tuesday evening.”

“But Tuesday is four days from now.”

“And her deadline is Wednesday. I promise you, the letters will be safely in your possession before then.”

“How will you manage it?” Freddie asked, shoveling a forkful of soft-boiled egg into his mouth, followed by a bite of kipper. Evidently the threat of impending disaster had not impaired his appetite much.

“You said Mrs. Sauville claimed to have your letters locked away in her jewel case.”

“Yes, in her bedchamber.”

“So I will see that she is occupied while I search her bedchamber for her jewel case.”

Freddie frowned. “It will not be easy to simply waltz into her boudoir undetected and then waltz out again with my letters. Precisely how do you mean to do it?”

“Why don’t you leave the particulars to me—”

Rayne abruptly cut off his reply upon realizing that his majordomo, Bramsley, had appeared at the open door to the breakfast parlor. Directly behind the distinguished servant stood Miss Madeline Ellis.

Rayne was immediately struck by his unexpected pleasure at seeing her again, although he managed to repress the sentiment. Wondering how much she had overheard, he rose politely in welcome as Bramsley announced her.

Freddie leapt to his feet also and finished swallowing
before blurting out, “Miss Ellis, what the devil are you doing here?”

Rayne sent his relative a quelling glance. “Won’t you come in, Miss Ellis?”

She hesitated on the threshold, evidently aware that the conversation had instantly stopped at her arrival.

“Have you breakfasted yet?” Rayne asked.