“He left this letter for you,” the viscountess said, her voice gentle, as she placed a small envelop in Madeline’s hands. Then she looked up, and her gaze came to rest on Madeline’s. “He is a good man, one of the very few I’ve met,” she said, her voice full of confidence as though she were whispering secrets to a dear friend. “I have no doubt that he had a very good reason for what he did at Lord Kingsley’s ball.”
Madeline tensed, her fingers curling around the paper in her hands.
“He is a most honourable man,” the viscountess continued, her eyes imploring, and for a moment, Madeline thought the woman knew more than she let on. “He is too proud to force a woman into marriage only for his own desires.” Gently squeezing Madeline’s hand, the viscountess nodded to her. “Go and read the letter. I shall hold breakfast for you.”
“Thank you,” was all Madeline could say in that moment as her heart and mind ran rampant. As she all but fled the foyer, the viscountess’ words echoed in her head: …for his own desires.
Thoroughly confused, Madeline pushed open the door to the library and then closed it firmly behind her, momentarily resting her back against the hard wood as her breath came in panting gasps.
At every turn, her new husband seemed to push her away, and yet, there had been moments the night before when Madeline had thought to see desire in his eyes. Was there a part of him that felt for her? Or was it only her body that tempted him on occasion?
Staggering across the floor, Madeline sank into a large cushioned armchair and broke the seal. Then she hesitated, staring at the small, simple crest, trying to picture the man who now bore it. Where had he penned this letter? And when? Late last night in a state of anger? Or this morning with a clear head?
Knowing that there was no other way to find out, Madeline unfolded the parchment. Her eyes were met with a simple, clear handwriting.
Lady Ainsworth,
I offer you my renewed apologies for the circumstances of our nuptials. I assure you I had no intention of forcing your hand, nor was it the thought of your dowry that bade me follow you that night.
Madeline frowned. If not her dowry, what reason could he have possibly had? Judging from his rejection the night before, neither had it been desire that had led him down the dark hallway to the moonlit drawing room to find her alone.
I meant what I said last night. I give you free rein over your life. Live it the way you choose. I will not stand in your way. However, should you ever have need of anything, please do not hesitate to call on me and know that you’re always welcome at Huntington House.
My sincerest regards,
Lord Ainsworth
Suddenly feeling utterly exhausted, Madeline slumped back in her chair and closed her eyes. Her hand fell to her side, and the letter floated to the floor. How had her life ever become this entangled that she could not tell up from down?
Still, her husband had not given her a reason for his actions at Lord Kingsley’s ball. And while it appears he did not care in the least how she conducted herself, he still offered his assistance should she have need of it. Did he care about her well-being or not? Was it merely his duty as her husband that forced him to make such an offer?
Again, Madeline’s thoughts returned to Lord Townsend and her own hopes for that night, which had been so cruelly dashed. Again, she remembered her new husband’s reaction whenever Lord Townsend’s name had fallen between them last night. Again, she wondered why a husband would grant his wife leave to have an affair…and with a man he despised no less.
Why?
Chapter Eight ? Huntington House
Leaving behind the noise and crowded streets of London, Derek found his body relax as he sat astride his trusted gelding Arion as the bay carried him swiftly across the fields toward a small forest clustered at the horizon. With his few belongings strapped to the back of his saddle, they made good time, and Derek could feel a soft pull as each step of his horse carried him closer to home…and his family.
It had been too long since he had last seen them, and he could only hope that they were all well. However, his sister’s last letter had reached him weeks ago. Who knew what had happened since then?
For the past few years, Derek had reluctantly spent his time in Town, watching over his friend Tristan as an unknown enemy had lain in wait, wanting to end his life. Derek had considered it his duty to protect Tristan after what he had done for his sister. It had been a debt that he needed to repay. And yet, over time a deep friendship had developed between them, so that today Derek would without hesitation name Tristan his best, most trusted friend.
Whether it had been duty or friendship keeping Derek in town did not matter any longer. The threat had been eliminated, and Tristan was safe now, thereby freeing Derek from his obligation and allowing him to return to the life he had neglected for too long.
And yet, he did not feel liberated, did he?
A new obligation had caught him in its snare; he was a married man now.
Try as he might, Derek could not empty his head when it came to thoughts of Lady Madeline…Lady Ainsworth, his wife.
Madeline.
Whether he turned his gaze to the far horizon or the hard ground beneath his horse’s hooves, he could not escape the memory of her long ebony hair and her sparkling green eyes. He saw her shake with anger as she lashed out at him, her eyes ablaze in the darkening glow of her bedchamber. He felt her body tremble beneath his hands as he had kissed her…as she had kissed him back with such passion.
As his mind replayed all that had happened before his inner eye, Derek felt himself torn between the different emotions these images evoked. Although he knew that she despised him for the life he had forced on her?and with good reason, he had to admit for he knew he would have felt the same?there had been moments when his hopeful heart had seen something else in those intense green eyes. There had been moments when she had allowed herself to be vulnerable. Despite her unyielding pride and dignity, she had pleaded for a kiss, offering herself up for rejection.
Derek understood the need to be strong?or if that was not possible, at the very least, the need to appear strong. Revealing a weakness could?and often would?be one’s downfall for the world only favoured those who looked out for themselves. That was a lesson he had learnt from the ton. Had his wife learnt a similar lesson? How could she? After all, had she not grown up among the very people he so despised? Had she not been raised with the same principles that demanded a man of no importance like himself be stomped into the ground should he dare to aspire to more than his assigned miserable lot in life?
Their lives, their expectations, their outlooks on life were so very different as much as they were themselves; Derek knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that their marriage was doomed. And yet, he had felt a certain kinship to the woman he had married but knew very little about. Had he been wrong to think so? Had his emotions deceived him?
Shaking his head, Derek swallowed as his bay carried him out of the small forest.
A frown drew down his brows and he glanced around, taking in the wide expanse of fields and meadows. When had he entered the forest? He wondered, once more glancing behind himself at the tall standing trees now slowly falling behind.
Closing his eyes, he sighed. His wife proved to be a powerful distraction…even when she was nowhere around. He would do well to push all thoughts of her from his mind for likely he would not see her again…or at least not often. Although he had felt compelled to offer his home to her, Derek was certain she would never accept his offer.
After all, she had other options.