Derek nodded. “I was. But now I’ve come home.” He glanced around. “The estate needs tending to. Maybe you can help me some time? Do you know how to hold a hammer?”
With an unexpectedly heart-warming expression in his little eyes, Collin took another step forward, his chin rising a notch. “I do,” he said, pride ringing in his voice, as he held out his hands and demonstrated to his uncle how he would go about it. “Like this.”
“Perfect,” Derek praised.
Instantly, Collin’s face split into a wide grin, and he turned to his mother, craning his neck to look up at her. “Did you hear that? He said I could help!”
In that moment, Derek caught sight of the small mole under Collin’s right ear, and the warmth that had flooded Derek’s chest vanished as though it had never been. Anger reclaimed him and darkened his features so that he quickly rose to his feet so as not to frighten the child.
After all, Collin was innocent.
Unlike his father.
Although Derek was grateful that his sister had found love with her husband, the man who had offered for her hand to protect her and her unborn child, he still struggled with the reminders of what had been, of all his sister had been through, and the injustice that would never be addressed.
After all, the ton took care of their own.
They were untouchable.
Chapter Nine ? Another Ball
Striding through the front entrance as though nothing had happened, as though she were merely returning from an outing with a friend, Madeline found herself in her father’s townhouse, her gaze gliding over the familiar surroundings with a touch of disbelief. Were it not for the simple, golden ring on the fourth finger of her left hand, Madeline would have thought the past few days a mere dream.
“Madeline?”
Inhaling a deep breath, Madeline turned to face her father. “Good day, Father. I hope you are well. Is this not delightful weather?”
Not answering her question, his slightly narrowed eyes settled on her face, confusion only too visible in them. “May I ask what brings you here?” He glanced behind her at the footmen carrying her luggage up the stairs. “Is something wrong?”
“Not at all,” Madeline replied with feigned cheerfulness. “Since my husband has returned to the country to see to his estate, I’ve decided to return home…at least until the end of the Season.”
Taking a step closer, her father gently took her arm and led her into the drawing room. After the doors were firmly closed, he turned to her. “Is his home not also your home now? Why did you not accompany him?”
Ignoring the slight tremble in her hands, Madeline forced a deep smile on her face. “Oh, Father, you know how much I like town. Don’t say you object to my being here!”
Strangely enough, those words served to conjure an image of her husband as he had stood before her on their wedding night, his eyes hard and full of anger. Then, she had asked him if he did not object to her having an affair.
I would object. However, I will not stand in your way, should you decide to do so.
Those words had echoed in her mind all night, and not even the morning sun had been able to silence them. And yet, they confused her as much now as they had then.
Her husband was an enigma. One moment, he seemed to want her looking at her with a possessive hunger that stole the breath from her lungs, and the next, he thrust her into another man’s arms without a look back.
However, in the end, his words did not matter, did they? It was his action that did. After all, he had left.
Without her.
Without speaking to her.
Clearly, he did not want her.
Madeline swallowed. There was no use in crying over spilled milk. Well, there was no use in crying at all. The only thing she could do was decide what would happen next, and thankfully, her husband had given her free rein.
“Of course, I do not object,” her father exclaimed, confusion still clouding his grey eyes. Madeline sighed. She could not blame him. “However, I admit I am surprised. I’ve never heard of a husband and wife going their separate ways so soon after the ceremony.”
After years of schooling her features to take on an expression of interested indifference, Madeline sat down on the settee, then met her father’s gaze. “Apparently, his estate needs tending to,” she said as calmly as she could while her heart hammered in her chest, “and as I would be of no use to him there, he was…kind enough to allow me to remain in town.”
“I see,” her father grumbled, his quick eyes moving as he sat down opposite her. “How long do you plan on staying?”
Indefinitely. Taking a deep breath, Madeline shrugged, the expression on her face non-chalant. “I haven’t decided yet.”
Leaning forward, her father met her gaze without flinching, and she was surprised by the watchfulness she saw there. “You cannot avoid him forever. He may not have been your choice, but despite his origins, I’m convinced he is a good man. I would not have given him your hand if I didn’t believe so.”
Staring at her father in disbelief, Madeline swallowed. These days everyone seemed to have an opinion of whom she ought to marry, even her usually absent-minded father, who had never uttered a word about matchmaking within her earshot. Had they all banded together to see their expectations met? For a moment, Madeline felt as though she was at the core of some conspiracy. Even Aunt Odelia who had been able to conjure objections regarding every one of Madeline’s suitors had seemed suspiciously content at the ceremony.
Rising to her feet, Madeline straightened her shoulders. “Believe what you will,” she said, unable to meet his gaze. “However, I will do as I see fit.” And with that she hastened from the room and rushed up the stairs, a desperate need for her bedchamber’s solitude burning in her chest.
Over the course of the next few days, Madeline almost perfected the art of pacing. As her mind could not seem to relinquish the memory of her husband’s hard eyes as well as the strained tone of his voice as he had spoken to her last, Madeline felt her body respond with a similar restlessness. Up and down the length of her bedchamber she walked, occasionally stopping by the window and gazing out at the quiet garden below before resuming her exercise.
“Bloody hell, Madeline,” she cursed herself, surprised at the harsh words that left her lips, “would you finally make up your mind! You cannot stay in this room until the end of your days.”
As though fate had heard her pleading heart, a luncheon invitation arrived that very day, and Madeline decided to simply accept her new life the way it was and decide step by step what to do next.
At first, she found herself eyed with utter curiosity by the attending members of the ton; however, as she was resolved not to speak about her husband, her marriage or the scandal that had brought them together, conversations soon turned to more interesting events.
Relaxing into her usual self, Madeline could almost pretend as though nothing had happened, and she began to wonder if her husband’s suggestion had any merit. Maybe he was wise to consider their marriage a union on paper only. Maybe they would both be happier if they did not pretend they were a suitable match and simply continued their lives as though they had never even met. Was that possible? The thought alone seemed outrageous…scandalous…wicked.