Once on the ground, he followed Elmridge as they ran around the corner of the house, their long strides carrying them toward the front door. In the dim light, Derek could make out two women standing side by side just inside the foyer, their gesturing hands urging them onward.
As the marquess passed the threshold, his wife welcomed him, wrapping a large blanket around his rain-soaked shoulders. Her face glowed as she smiled at him, gently brushing wet strands off his face. “You look like a drowned cat,” she laughed, hugging him tightly, completely unconcerned with the fact that her own clothes were soaking up more and more water with each moment that she stood in his embrace.
Rubbing his hands together as his body began to shiver, Derek turned his head and found his own wife, a blanket in hand, hesitantly stepping toward him. Her gaze met his, and Derek’s heart soared at the thought of wrapping her in his arms and having her brush his wet hair from his face.
As they stepped toward one another, suddenly strangely shy, he could not keep the smile from his face. Her own mimicked his, and she swung the blanket forward and around him, leaning into him to reach.
Derek could feel her warm breath on his skin, felt her warmth chase away the chill in his bones, and without thinking, he pulled her into his arms.
At his touch, she drew in a sharp breath and her gaze flew up to meet his. Hesitant for a moment, she bit her lower lip, then allowed herself to be drawn deeper into his embrace, her hands holding the blanket now wrapped securely around his shoulders. “You need to change out of these wet clothes,” she whispered, her gaze occasionally fluttering from his as though she did not dare look at him for too long. “Or you’ll catch a cold and will be of no use to us.”
A teasing tone had come to her voice, and Derek could not help but smile. “I could say the same about you,” he pointed out, a large grin on his face as his hands ran over her body, feeling the wet fabric as it clung to her skin.
Madeline swallowed as she looked at him, her gaze now steady, filled with longing and…desire.
Derek’s breath hitched, and when her gaze momentarily dropped to his lips, his arms tightened on her, pulling her closer against him, and his head bent down toward her.
“Shall we inspect our work?” the marquess’ voice tore them out of their shared moment, and they almost jumped apart, their gazes fluttering around the room, looking anywhere but at one another.
“I was about to suggest the same,” Derek replied, clearing his throat. As he gestured toward the large staircase that led to the upper floor, he noticed a slight smirk on both their guests’ faces. No doubt, they were very much aware of the flying sparks that surged through the room whenever he met his wife’s gaze.
As the marquess led his wife upstairs, casting a meaningful look at Derek over his shoulder, Derek held out his arm to his wife. Taking a deep breath, Madeline accepted it, and they proceeded up the stairs, his body very much aware of hers as it occasionally touched his as they moved. He turned to look at her, but she quickly averted her gaze, a slight blush coming to her cheeks that had Derek’s heart hammering in his chest.
“This looks promising,” Elmridge observed as they entered Madeline’s bedchamber, currently occupied by him and his wife. “Do you see it dripping anywhere?” he asked his wife, peering into a jug placed by the window. “This is still dry.”
“This one is, too,” the marchioness declared, open praise in her voice as she turned to her husband. “I had no idea you were so good with your hands.”
He chuckled and once more drew her arm through his. Then he looked at Derek. “I believe this afternoon was well spent. Let’s hope our improvements shall hold until the morning.” He glanced out the window at the darkening sky as sheets of water came pouring down. “They surely will be put to the test this night.”
Derek nodded, a smile on his face. “Indeed, they will be,” he agreed, “however, I have every confidence that our repairs will hold. Thank you for your help. Indeed, it was most fortunate that your wife insisted on a visit.”
The marchioness laughed, “See? I told you it wouldn’t be a mistake.”
Taking their leave, Derek led his wife out of the room and closed the door behind them. “We need to get changed,” he observed, then opened the door to his bedchamber. Glancing back at her, he noticed a sullen expression on her face as her eyes seemed to be looking at nothing. “Is something wrong?”
Startled, as though she had all but forgotten his presence, Madeline looked at him before a forced smile appeared on her face. “I’m fine.”
Frowning, Derek stepped closer, noting the way she backed away, her head lowered. “Tell me,” he insisted, his hand gently grasping her chin and lifting it so her eyes met his once more. “Tell me.”
Inhaling deeply, she swallowed, and he could feel her trying to lower her head. When he would not let her, she finally met his gaze, a touch of wilfulness in her eyes. “It is nothing. Go and change before you catch a cold.” She lifted her hand, trying to dislodge his.
“If you want me to change,” Derek observed, his voice determined as he held her gaze, “then I advise you tell me what’s wrong. Otherwise, we’ll be standing here all night.”
The look in her eyes hardened, a touch of annoyance in them. “It is nothing.”
“It’s not nothing. Tell me.”
She rolled her eyes. “It is silly.”
“I doubt it.”
“You wouldn’t understand,” she said in a breathless voice, a lone tear rolling down her cheek as she once more tried to turn her head away, but to no avail.
As his eyes were locked on her face, Derek saw her hard exterior slowly crumble away, revealing something much more vulnerable underneath. “Try me,” he whispered as his thumb gently brushed away her tear.
For a moment, she closed her eyes before taking a deep, fortifying breath and meeting his once more. “I know I’m a horrible person for thinking so, but…your accomplishments only serve to remind me…that I have none.”
Stunned, Derek stared at her. Whatever he had expected, it had not been that.
Holding his gaze, Madeline slowly removed his hand from her chin, then stepped away. “Go and change,” she whispered, turning down the corridor. “I shall help your mother prepare supper.”
“What about you?” Derek croaked, still shaken by the depth of her self-doubt that he had glimpsed. His gaze moved up and down her body, indicating the wet patches of her dress.
“I shall change later,” she replied, taking another step back…away from him. “The kitchen is warm. I shall be fine.” Then she turned around and walked away.
Chapter Nineteen ? A Woman on a Mission
Watching Elsbeth pull on her thick winter coat, Madeline sighed, then glanced out the front door at the carriage that would take the marquess and his wife back to their own estate. The last fortnight had flown by, and in that moment, Madeline could not imagine being at Huntington House without Elsbeth, without her kind and encouraging words.
There were still so many things that had Madeline confused.
“What has you in such a miserable mood?” her friend asked as she reached for her scarf.
Madeline shrugged. “I wish you could stay.”
Elsbeth smiled. “As do I. However, I do not believe that my departure is the reason for that look on your face. What bothers you?” Grasping Madeline’s hands, Elsbeth met her eyes. “Tell me honestly.”
“Honestly?” Madeline shook her head, feeling as though the past, few weeks had been one endless failure. “I feel useless,” she stated, her voice harsh as though her friend were to blame for her own deficiencies. “All those skills I acquired as a society lady are of no use to me here, and that is not likely to ever change. So, tell me,” she shook her head feeling as though the walls were closing in on her, “what am I supposed to do? Simply sit back and watch my husband handle everything, wishing I were even half as competent as he?”
“It sounds as if you’ve come to admire him,” Elsbeth observed with a wicked smile.
Madeline swallowed. “I admire the things he can do. I…”
“Not him?” Elsbeth demanded, her watchful blue eyes fixed on her friend’s face.