Frowning, Madeline took a step forward. She’d be damned if she let this stranger intimidate her! “Yours?” she pressed, daring him to reveal his own involvement.
Holding her gaze without flinching, without the slightest sign of hesitation or uncertainty, he lowered his head toward hers. “Yes,” was all he said, and the look in his eyes dared her to attack him with all the anger she felt.
Lips pressed together, Madeline inhaled deeply through her nose, seeking to steady her shaking hands. Lashing out at him would serve no one. It would only draw unwanted attention.
Above all else, she had to get rid of this man, and then see to Lord Townsend, ensure his well-being. “Leave. Now,” she hissed, jerking her chin toward the door.
He swallowed then, and for a moment, she thought he would comply. However, instead of retreating, he took another step toward her, the look in his eyes faintly softened by something resembling honest concern.
Madeline was utterly flabbergasted. Who was this man?
Then he opened his mouth, and his voice was almost gentle as he spoke. “I followed you tonight because?”
Madeline sucked in a sharp breath. “You followed me? Why?” Again, panic seized her as she remembered all those many moments gentlemen had tried to catch her alone to compromise her, to trap her into marriage, to take the choice out of her hands.
Always had she seen them coming, seen their intentions and thwarted their plans.
Often, she had prided herself on her ability to read people, to know what they thought.
Only this man was different.
She had not seen him coming.
She could not even recall laying eyes on him.
It was as though he had appeared out of thin air.
“What is going on here?”
At the sound of her aunt’s voice, Madeline jerked her head toward the door, which now stood wide open, revealing a bunch of old matrons staring in, their eyes widened in shock as they took in the scene.
Speechless, Madeline briefly closed her eyes, groaning inwardly as she knew exactly what they thought, what they thought they knew was happening, what she had done.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Madeline glanced at the man beside her, his face stoic as though nothing could surprise him, as though the consequences of their actions did not concern him in the least. Madeline, however, felt as though the hangman had just knocked out the stool from under her, her feet dangling in the air as the rope cut into her neck, closing off her lungs.
“Aunt Odelia,” she began, forcing an innocent smile onto her face as she approached the circle of women, “I assure you nothing untoward is going on here. This gentleman merely lost his way, and I…” On their faces, she could see the same disbelief she felt in her heart, knowing only too well that her words were a lie.
Her aunt’s quick eyes slid over her face, searching, wondering, before shifting to her partner in crime. Her gaze narrowed as she regarded him for a long moment. All the while, the ladies in her back whispered to one another, their eager eyes enthralled as they watched the drama unfold.
“Lady Otwell,” her aunt intoned without lifting her gaze off the stranger, “would you be so kind as to fetch my brother?”
“No,” Madeline gasped, her voice so quiet she could barely hear it herself, as she watched Lady Otwell turn on her heels without a moment’s hesitation and dart off in the direction of the ballroom. “Aunt Odelia, you cannot?”
“Save your breath, my dear,” her aunt interrupted, the look in her eyes determined. “That is for your father to decide.”
Unable to face the disapproving looks of her aunt’s little circle any longer, Madeline averted her eyes and glanced up at the tall stranger beside her. Would he not say anything? Of course, he would not. After all, this was exactly the outcome he had hoped for.
And yet, when she looked at his face, Madeline could see neither triumph nor satisfaction. Instead, the dark light in his gaze had dimmed and his eyes narrowed as his thoughts seemed to be directed inward. He inhaled slowly, and his lips thinned, but not with anger. If Madeline was not thoroughly mistaken, there was a trace of guilt in the way he clenched his jaw and straightened his shoulders as though the implications of their situation had never occurred to him before this very moment.
“What is going on?” her father’s voice cut through the hushed silence, his words echoing her aunt’s from only a few moments earlier. Then he stepped into the room, and his eyes immediately sought hers before they narrowed as he took notice of the silent man by her side.
“Father, I can explain,” Madeline began, wringing her hands, praying that her father would allow her to do so. “This is all a terrible misunderstanding.” Was it? She wondered. How on earth was she to explain something she could not even understand herself?
However, her father was unwilling to even grant her that small mercy. Shaking his head, he stepped toward her, his big, warm hands engulfing her own chilled ones. “I’m sorry, my dear,” he whispered, honest regret in his eyes as they held hers. “You’ve done it now.” His gaze shifted to the side, indicating the cluster of women behind him, listening intently. “There’s no way to contain this. You would be ruined.” Again, he shook his head. “I love you too much to allow this to happen.”
“Father,” Madeline pleaded, her eyes misting with tears as her carefully structured world began to crumble around her. “Please.”
He inhaled deeply, and his mouth tugged up into a tentative smile. “Maybe this will be good for you,” he spoke, his voice still hushed, only meant for her. “You’ve never been able to make up your mind, never given your heart to one of the many gentlemen who sought your attention, your affection. Maybe this is a blessing in disguise.” He glanced at the still silent stranger, standing like a stone pillar behind her. “Maybe this will give your life a new purpose. Maybe this will make you happy.”
Closing her eyes, Madeline sank her teeth into her lower lip to keep from crying out in desperation. As her father ushered her aunt’s circle of friends out the door, stating in no uncertain terms that a wedding would follow swiftly, Madeline spun around to face the man who had ruined her life.
Shifting his gaze from the far wall, he met her eyes, his own calm and collected, and yet, she could see a storm brewing underneath. She wanted to lash out at him, strike him, rake her nails across his face, anything to shatter that calm exterior of his. She wanted him to know that he had ruined her life and that she would never forgive him.
He would be her husband, and she would hate him for it.
Hate him with a passion he had never encountered.
However, before she could say a word, her father stuck his head in, his gaze focused on the man who had not uttered a single word during all of this. “My lord, may I have a word?” he asked, his voice respectful and kind as though he held no grudge, no bitterness or animosity toward the man who had ruined his daughter’s chances in life.
Madeline inhaled a calming breath. Knowing her father, he probably did not.
But that did not mean she could not.
And she would.
If it was the last thing she did.
Chapter Three ? One Night's Consequences