Madison's Gift
Page 12
He licked his lips. Immediately, her gaze dropped to his mouth. Her tongue darted out between her lips and swept quickly before going back into hiding. Anticipation thumped in his chest. Would she allow him to kiss her?
“Madison? Are...are you having any visions now?” he asked softly.
Her gaze jumped up and met his eyes. “No, why?”
“Because I was wondering if you could see me kissing you.”
Her face flamed red and she shyly lowered her gaze as she tried pulling back. “Actually, I don’t think—”
She’s going to turn you down! Panicked at being rejected, he wrapped his arms around her and gently encouraged her back against his chest. “The reason I ask is because I can see it happening very soon.” He lowered his mouth. “And it looks to be sweet and extremely enjoyable.”
The moment he pressed his mouth against hers, a deep sigh rattled through her throat and her whole body relaxed into his embrace. Fireworks exploded in his head. Euphoria rushed through him, knowing she had wanted this kiss just as much as he. Whether it was wrong or right, at this point, it didn’t matter. He was going to allow the elation filling his very being to take over his mind and his actions.
His hands wandered along her back as he pulled her closer. Within seconds, she moved her arms around his neck. Their chests touched, and the erratic rhythm of her heartbeat knocked in the same sequence as his. This was so much better than the dreams he’d had last night.
Madison’s lips tasted like honey...and strawberries. Whatever she had for breakfast still lingered in her mouth, and he wanted to devour it fully. At this moment, he didn’t want to kiss anyone else but Madison Haywood ever again.
The neigh of the horse and the jerk of the buggy snapped Cameron out of his passionate state. Apparently, it had the same effect on Madison, because she jumped out of his arms and scooted away from him on the seat. Grumbling under his breath for having their special moment ruined, he took the reins back in his hands and steadied the horse.
She fidgeted in her seat and ran the palms of her hands down the dress. Her gaze stayed on her hands. Silently, he urged her to look at him, but apparently, she couldn’t read minds like she could see visions. It was up to him to break the awkward stillness between them.
“I, um...” he cleared his throat, not really knowing what to say. “I suppose the horse wanted some attention, too.”
Shyly, she peeked at him from under her long eyelashes. A small grin touched her lips, still swollen from his ardent kisses.
“Is that what happened?” she asked meekly.
He shrugged. “That’s what I’m thinking.”
She faced forward and was quiet again. He wished she would have at least said something about the kiss. Was she repulsed by it? Of course she wasn’t. By the way she responded let him know she was eager for the kiss just as much as he was. Perhaps that was why she didn’t say anything. Was she embarrassed because most women didn’t act like that when a man kissed them? Did she think she was too bold? Yet, her response was just perfect.
After a few minutes without them talking, he cleared his throat again, and looked at her. She sat with her back straight and her gaze forward. “Madison, I hope you don’t expect me to apologize for that kiss. I’m not sorry it happened.”
Her shoulders relaxed slightly and she peered at him briefly. “I was hoping you weren’t going to apologize.”
Chuckling softly, his chest burst with happiness. “Then we agree that what happened between us just now was long awaited and worth the wait.”
Her smile stretched, but she switched her attention toward the road again. “Yes, we can agree on that.”
“It could have happened this morning in the attic, you know,” he added.
She nodded and peeked at him under her lashes. “Yes.”
Silence passed between them again, but this time it wasn’t so uncomfortable. His mind scrambled to remember what they had been discussing right before the explosive kiss, but he couldn’t think of anything besides the way she cuddled against him and the way her sultry lips caressed with his. Oh, good grief! He wouldn’t be able to go very much longer before kissing her again. He had to see if she was as good as she was the first time.
“So, Cameron?” she asked sweetly. “You were going to take me to Mr. Bailey’s house, correct?”
It was as if an invisible brick fell on his head, waking him up out of his passionate stupor. Yes, that’s what they’d been discussing her brilliant idea. “Indeed, I am.”
“Does he live alone, or does he have family?”
Cameron thought back to the time he went to visit him, right after Rosie went missing. He’d hated that man with every fiber of his being, and had wanted nothing more than to wrap his fingers around the rotten man’s neck for even thinking about wanting to court Rosie. The man was so much older, for heaven’s sake! And yet now, Cameron discovered from Miss Trent, that wasn’t the case at all and Rosie hadn’t wanted him to court her. Did he believe the flighty Miss Trent? If what she said was true, then why didn’t Mr. Bailey set Cameron straight when he’d talked to him? Bailey had every chance in the world, yet he said nothing.
Very odd.
“If I recall, I think he lived by himself. I remember he had a few servants, but that was all. I had asked around about him at the station, and a few men knew of him. Apparently, he was related to a wealthy earl. From what the officers told me, the earl has only one daughter and no sons. So why wouldn’t the title and lands pass to the older male heir?”
“Maybe because his uncle doesn’t want it to go to the oldest.”
“You are probably correct.” He shook his head. “All of this sounds like a messed up family to me.”
“Cameron? Is the wealthy uncle still healthy?”
Cameron shrugged. “I don’t know. Why?”
“I just wondered if this was motivation for Mr. Bailey’s death. Was he next to inherit?”
He studied her, once more, amazed at her insight. Why weren’t more women this intelligent? “That’s definitely something I should consider.”
“It won’t hurt.” Madison turned toward him. “Do you think his house will be empty when we arrive?”
“I’m not certain. His servants might be there, but I think by now, they would have gotten word of the man’s death. Perhaps even his family has been told.”
“Did Mr. Bailey have family around these parts?”
“That, I couldn’t say.” Cameron frowned. “I honestly didn’t know the man very well. In fact, before Rosie, I didn’t even know he existed.”
She tilted her head. “You haven’t seen him around town or at society functions?”
“Actually,” he laughed softly, more out of embarrassment, “I’m not involved much with society, unless of course, it pertains to my employment.”
She folded her hands in her lap. “Yes, Alice mentioned something like that. Why is that?”
He arched an eyebrow. “Why I’ve been reclusive?”
“Yes. You’re a very handsome man, and from what Alice has told me about you, you are one of Metropolitan Police’s best officers. I’m surprised you haven’t found a suitable woman to marry by now.”
Sadness grew heavy in his chest. Should he share with her his worries and heartache? Would she understand at all? Yet, as he stared deep into her azure eyes, his heart melted, and once again, he felt as though he could confide anything with her and not be a lesser man for it.
“Has my sister told you about our father?”
“A little, yes.”
He nodded. Memories from yesteryear filled his head, and the pain in his heart he’d tried to hide resurfaced. “As my father started losing his mind, I became ashamed of him. I didn’t want anyone—especially women—to know I was related to him. My father started gambling, and he lost both Rosie’s and Alice’s dowry and some of their inheritance. Rumors circulated through the community, and it seemed nobody wanted to associate with us. After he died, I realized I shouldn’t hav
e acted in such a manner. Guilt overwhelmed me, and I mentally berated myself for years afterwards. I stopped attending functions where there were large crowds. I didn’t feel worthy to be there.” He shrugged. “I knew others looked down on me for being my father’s son. Some people are unforgiving. But of course, I’m my worst judge because I can’t forgive myself for the way I’d acted out of embarrassment while my father was alive.”
She reached her hand over and laid it on top of his. His heartbeat quickened, but it wasn’t from the warmth of her touch this time. Instead, it was from the understanding coating her amazing eyes.
“Tell me, Cameron. If your father was here with you now, and in his right mind, would he forgive you?”
He chuckled. “Yes. My dad was that kind of man. He cared about his children and loved us unconditionally.”
“If you knew your father was watching you from Heaven, do you think he’d be happy that you are condemning yourself in such a way?”
Her words impacted him, and the guilt weighing on his chest became heavier, and he muttered, “No, he wouldn’t be happy.”
“Then forgive yourself, Cameron, and move on with your life. You cannot live a life for someone else, especially if they are deceased. You cannot erase the past; however, you can repair the damage by doing good deeds in your life and trying to make others happy...as well as yourself.”
An awareness for this beautiful woman spread through him like new blood flowing through his veins. Once again, he wanted to take her in his arms and show her with his lips just how much her words soothed his soul. But now wasn’t the time to be passionate. “When did you become so knowledgeable on the subject, my dear?”
Her smile waned as she removed her hand and placed it alongside the other which was still in her lap. “I lived for many years trying to please my aunt and uncle. I was miserable because I knew my gift was an embarrassment to them. Finally, a very good friend of mine told me to stop living my life for them, and start living it for me.” Shrugging, she looked at him again. “That’s when I realized how I could help other people with my gift, and in doing so it made them happy. In return, it made me happy.”
“What you say makes sense.”
Her full smile returned. “I’m glad you think so.”
“I’m sorry you had such a miserable childhood,” he said meaningfully.
She arched an eyebrow. “Sometimes I wonder if things would have been different if my parents hadn’t died. Or if I hadn’t been given this gift.”
“Possibly.” He paused, realizing he didn’t know much about her life. “How did your parents die?”
“They were in a shop in town that sold furniture. It burned down.”
He thought back to that time in his life. He would have been thirteen or fourteen. However, he couldn’t recall a store burning down. Then again, he wasn’t involved that much with society since he was trying to help his father raise Alice. Mother was still in Scotland with Rosie.
“Do you remember anything about them?”
Madison’s expression became wistful and her shoulders slumped. “I only recall a few things. I remember that my mother used to sing to me, and I loved hearing her voice. And I remember how kind my father was—even to strangers.”
“At least you know your parents were very loving.”
Her full smile returned and she nodded. “Indeed, I do. That helps me get through the bad days.”
“You know, I believe you inherited your kindness from your father.”
She chuckled. “Well, I’m glad for that. Too bad I didn’t inherit a pleasant singing voice, too.”
He laughed. “Oh, I’m sure you sing beautifully.”
“No, I don’t. I scare away animals when I sing.”
He loved seeing her so relaxed this way. “Madison, I would very much like to get to know you better.”
“Perhaps.”
He glanced ahead of them again. “However, we’ll have to put that on hold for now, because up the road is Mr. Bailey’s house.”
ELEVEN
Madison twisted her hands in her shawl and fixed her eyes on the two-story, red-bricked house with wide, long windows on each floor. Smaller windows lined the attic, and several tall chimneys jutted from the coffee colored roof. All in all, the house appeared lovely, and very welcoming. The cobblestone drive wound around a small brick wall that housed two manicured trees.
Several carriages and a few saddled horses rested along the dead man’s drive. Frowning, she peered at Cameron. “I suppose the place isn’t empty, as you had suspected.”
“Looks that way. I’m sure these are mourners who have come to pay their respects.”
“Yes, I’m sure of it.”
He stopped their buggy and set the brake. “I think I should take off this disguise. I’m certain they will be able to realize that up close, I’m really not that old.”
“Yes, I believe you’re right.” He removed his wig and she swiped the powder still dusting his eyebrows. When she dropped her gaze to his clothes, she frowned. “However, I pray they don’t wonder about your outdated clothes.”
He shrugged. “Let them judge. I doubt I will ever see them again after today.”
Cameron jumped down. When he reached his hand up to help her, she hesitantly glanced at the house again. “Do you think they will mind if we arrive unexpectedly?”
“Not if we tell them that we have come to pay our respects, as well.”
Slipping her hand into his, she nodded.
His heated gaze held hers as he slowly lifted her from the carriage. Her body shivered with elation. Even now, she couldn’t breathe properly. His kiss had taken her to Heaven and back. In a way, she wished the horse hadn’t disturbed their very passionate moment. Then again, she did need to think about this new direction with their relationship. Was it wise to have her heart soften toward him? If she couldn’t find his sister, Rosie, he might never forgive her.
Once her feet touched the ground, she tried to pull her hand away, but he hooked it over his arm as he escorted her up the porch to the front door. Her insides jumped, but Cameron appeared calm and in control. She clutched the edges of her shawl around her shoulders, nervous about going inside.
Would she see something that would be helpful? She couldn’t bear it if Cameron lost faith in her since her visions hadn’t really told them anything about Rosie’s location.
He rapped his knuckles three times on the door, and then patted her fingers still resting on his arm. “Let me do the talking.” He gave her a wink. “All I want you to do is touch...and pray you get a vision.”
The door opened by a servant wearing black. The older man’s white hair nearly matched the color of his skin. He dabbed a handkerchief to the corners of his red, swollen eyes before straightening his shoulders and meeting Cameron’s gaze.
“Forgive us for coming unannounced,” Cameron began, “I’m Mr. Westland and this is Miss Haywood. We knew Mr. Bailey, and we came to pay our respects to his family.”
The servant scrunched his brow and leaned an ear closer. “Pardon, sir?”
Cameron repeated it, louder this time.
The servant nodded and opened the door wider. Cameron motioned for her to enter first. As she stepped into the room, she wanted to touch the doorknob, but the servant still had his hand around the knob. As she moved her attention into the small hall, she noticed the room on the left first. This particular room didn’t seem to have a door but nobody occupied it. A pianoforte sat near the window, and two large sofas decorated in gold and daffodil colored stripes, along with two brown leather chairs, were placed nearby.
The room on the right was where the servant led them. Voices sounded on the other side of the door. As she walked by a vase of flowers sitting on a table against the wall, she brushed her fingers along the object, hoping to get a vision. Nothing. A large grandfather clock stood against another wall, but she’d have to go out of her way in order to touch that piece of furniture, and that would appear too suspicious.
All eyes in the room grew wide. Three men in the room stood and faced them, all appeared to be different ages. Cameron took the lead this time and moved toward them.
“Forgive us for dropping in unannounced, but we had to come tell you how sorry we are for your loss.”
Cameron’s voice shook a little at the end. Curiously, she studied him. He was either still feeling guilty about Mr. Bailey’s death...or he was a very good performer. Or, he must be still holding onto his guilt.
“You were friends with Jacob?” The youngest man out of the three directed his question to Cameron, eying him from the top of his head, down to his scruffy boots.
“Yes.” Cameron’s expression did not waver. Madison didn’t know if she could do the same, since she’d never met the man. Then again, the question was not asked to her.
“I have seen you before. Are you not an inspector with the Metropolitan Police?”
“Indeed, I am, but I’m not on duty.”
“Has there been any word on who killed him?” the man asked again, but with a sharp edge to his voice.
“I’m sorry, but no. His death is still being investigated.”
The younger man threw Cameron a glare. “That means you have no leads.” The volume of his voice increased. “How hard can it be to find his murderer?” He whipped around, marching toward the hearth.
The oldest man out of the three appeared to be middle-aged, even though his once-brown hair was dull with streaks of silver taking over. He leaned heavily on his walking stick as he stared at the younger man. “Simmer your temper, Gaynor. The inspector said they are looking into this matter, and we must have faith someone will be caught and imprisoned.”
The younger man grumbled as he grabbed the poker and jabbed at the fire blazing in the hearth.