by Olivia Drake
Maddy couldn’t retreat. The duke clutched her hand in a death grip. She tugged again. But she was afraid to pull too hard lest his ancient bones snap.
His sunken blue eyes grew watery, his once haughty chin wobbling. “Of course you aren’t Sarah,” he said brokenly, as he released her hand. “You can’t be. My daughter would be much older now. It’s just … I was hoping to see her again…”
That display of anguish whipped up a frenzy of rage in Maddy. How dare the Duke of Houghton pretend sorrow when he himself had driven his daughter away? When he had cut Mama off from his family and told her she was dead to him?
Maddy didn’t stop to think. The words poured out in a bitter rush. “Lady Sarah Langley is dead, Your Grace. She was my mother, and she died over ten years ago. I’m your granddaughter, Madelyn. The granddaughter you never knew existed—because you’d shunned us.”
Gasps eddied from the bystanders. A buzz of whispers spread throughout the entrance hall. She sensed movement around her, though she kept her gaze on the duke’s slack-jawed face. She wanted him to say something, to lash out at her in anger, to look down his long nose and rebuke her.
Nathan’s hand tightened convulsively on her arm. She glanced up to see his stark, astonished features. The others were staring at her in disbelief, Lord Gilmore frowning beside his mother, Emily clinging to Lord Theo’s arm, Lady Sophia with her mouth agape.
Maddy felt faint. What had she done? This was not what she’d intended. But it was too late to turn back now.
Lord Dunham sprang to the duke’s side. His icy gaze bored into Maddy. “What the devil is this nonsense? How dare you make such an outrageous claim! You’re nothing but an upstart actress. Leave this house at once.”
Nathan uttered a growl low in his chest. Sensing him about to spring, Maddy dug her fingers into the hard muscles of his arm to stop him. “Every word of it is true. The Duke of Houghton is my grandfather. You are my cousin. So is Lord Theo.”
“Impossible—” Dunham sputtered.
“His Grace tried to force Mama into a betrothal with a nobleman when she was eighteen. But she’d fallen in love with a traveling actor, Jeremy Swann. For the sin of running off to marry her true love, she was cast out of this family forever.” Maddy gestured at the duke. “Ask my grandfather. He’ll confirm it. I’m sure he remembers exactly what happened.”
The Duke of Houghton said nothing at all. He sat staring up at her, his bony fingers gripping the arms of his invalid’s chair. A single tear trickled on a slow path down his withered cheek. He looked old and broken, and Maddy knew it must be a shock to learn that his daughter was dead. Then she chided herself for feeling even a shred of sympathy for the man.
Nathan placed his firm hand at the small of her back. “Pray forgive this outburst, Your Grace. My wife and I will be leaving now.”
His frigid tone chilled Maddy. All the fire seemed to have burned out of her. She didn’t feel relieved or triumphant—just hollow and wretched.
Her legs moved woodenly as Nathan thrust her toward the door. The multitude of guests parted to give them wide berth. She felt their stares and heard their whispers as if in a dream. None of them mattered to her. Let them think what they willed. She wanted only to go home and bury herself beneath the covers of her bed. To hug her pillow and escape all the prying eyes.
They went outside into the cool night and down the porch steps. Nathan propelled her past a line of carriages. Coachmen gathered in small groups, conversing and trading jests. A burst of hearty laughter came from the carriages parked across the darkened square.
Nathan’s footsteps were quick and sharp on the pavement, and she had to half run to keep up with him. As they hurried by Lord Gilmore’s vehicle, the stout coachman doffed his hat in surprise. “Milord—”
Her husband didn’t stop to answer. He ploughed ahead, his hand pressing at Maddy’s back. As they passed beneath a street lamp, the glow of gaslight cast harsh shadows on his grim features. Never had she seen him look so coldly furious. Not even when confronting his father.
Stepping off the curbstone, she nearly twisted her ankle in her new dancing slippers. “Nathan, do slow down. Where are we going?”
He moderated his pace only slightly. “Gilmore House. It’s eight blocks away.”
“Oughtn’t we take the coach?”
“No. My family will need it when Houghton ejects them.”
A huge lump crowded her throat. She had ruined the ball for everyone, Emily in particular. How disappointed the girl would be to miss her only chance to flirt with Lord Theo.
Clearly, Nathan believed no one in his family would want to ride in the same coach as her. How they must all resent her. She had lied to them. She had hidden her past and tricked them into taking her to the Duke of Houghton’s house.
They would all realize, too, that confronting the duke was the real reason she’d married Nathan.
Tears blurred her eyes, but Maddy blinked them back. She swallowed to ease the tightness in her throat as she strove to keep up with his long strides. “Nathan, I’m … I’m so very sorry. I should have asked to speak to the duke in private. That’s what I had intended to do. I never meant to make such a confession in front of everyone. It just … spilled out.”
“Spilled out,” he mocked, urging her past a row of tall, darkened town houses. They had left the square and now proceeded down a side street, their footsteps echoing in the quiet night air. “All this time, you’ve kept your past a secret from me. You should have allowed your connection to Houghton to spill out when I asked you to marry me.”
“I—I couldn’t. You would have withdrawn your proposal.”
He gave a harsh growl. “Precisely. You played me for a fool. You saw my offer as your big chance. You wanted to use me to enter society. All so that you could gain entry to Houghton’s house.”
Everything he said was true. But she was done apologizing. “You used me, too, Nathan.”
“And I paid you well for the privilege! Dammit, I knew there was something odd about your interest in Dunham. I knew it and I let you hoodwink me.” He ran his fingers through his hair, mussing the long black strands. In the gloom, his face looked taut with fury as he hauled her down the street. “Blast you, Madelyn. You lied to me. You led me to believe you were a commoner. But your blood is bluer than mine.”
It seemed an odd thing for him to say. “What do you mean? My father was an actor.”
“And mine was a damned footman.”
Startled, she stopped in the halo of light from a street lamp and spun to face him. “No. The Earl of Gilmore is your father.”
He glanced around as if to assure himself there was no one out on the street. “My mother had numerous affairs. She saw no need for fidelity in marriage. She was caught carrying on with a footman nine months before I was born.”
Disbelieving, Maddy slowly shook her head. “That can’t be true. Who told you that?”
“Gilmore himself,” Nathan snarled in a harsh undertone. “It was his gift to me on my twenty-first birthday. He was angry about having to pay off my gaming debts, and he attributed my depravity to my bad blood. Needless to say, we had the row of the century. The very next day, I left England, intending never to return.”
Shocked, Maddy leaned back against the hard post of the street lamp. It all made perfect, awful sense now. No wonder the earl had treated Nathan so coldly in his childhood. No wonder he had favored his elder son. No wonder Nathan had gone abroad and returned ten years later with vengeance on his mind.
And no wonder he had offered marriage to a disreputable actress. It was the perfect way to punish Gilmore.
“Who else knows this?” she asked faintly.
“Only the dowager. But I’m sure there were rumors, given my mother’s notoriety.”
Maddy felt sick at the realization that she’d proved to Nathan that she, too, was an untrustworthy wife. She had tricked him, concealed the fact that she had blue blood. But didn’t that make them equals?
&n
bsp; “We’re alike then, you and I,” she asserted. “We’re both half noble. And if the earl resents you, it stands to reason he will continue to resent me, as well. Perhaps even more so since I caused such a great scandal tonight.”
“No. You’re wrong.” Nathan took hold of her arm again and pulled her along the foot pavement. He seemed too full of rage to stand still. “Consider it from his perspective. Gilmore was forced to accept the footman’s son as his heir. And when the footman’s son married a common actress, it was the worst possible circumstance, for it meant the Gilmore bloodline would be further diluted. But now, the actress reveals her connection to one of the most powerful peers in England. And that changes everything.” In the shadows, Nathan clenched his jaw. “Trust me, once he overcomes his shock, Gilmore will be very, very pleased by this new development.”
Maddy took a shaky breath. “But … the scandal…”
“Will die down eventually. In a matter of months, you’ll be cozy with the ton, especially if Houghton decides to accept you as a family member. So in Gilmore’s way of thinking, he’s won. Because if you were to bear me a son, the boy needn’t be hidden away. He would be eminently worthy of the title.”
“Surely the earl can’t be that petty.”
“Yes, he can be. Pedigree means everything to him.”
The deep bitterness in his tone distressed her. It reflected the estrangement he had suffered in his own family. The Earl of Gilmore had made Nathan believe he was unworthy and unloved.
They walked for a few minutes in silence, turning a corner and heading down another dark street. Her feet hurt from the new shoes, but the pain in her heart was far greater. Now she understood the full extent of Nathan’s fury. She had completely overturned his plans. He had craved retribution for the Earl of Gilmore’s cruel treatment of him. Nathan believed he’d finally achieved the perfect revenge in foisting a notorious bride on his family.
But she had ruined everything for him.
No longer could she blame Nathan for despising the earl. He had been justified in his resentment. The circumstances of his birth had not been his fault, yet he had suffered the consequences. In childhood, he had been denied the love of a father. All because of his mother’s folly …
Abruptly, he demanded, “When did you last have your courses? It must be nearly a month already, isn’t it?”
Startled, Maddy blushed, grateful for the cover of darkness. She turned her face downward, watching the kick of her slippers against the hem of her gown. “Um … yes, I believe so.”
“Then you must tell me when they start. I’ve no wish to give Gilmore a grandson—not anymore. Then he truly would win.”
His cold, cutting tone sliced into her. Any hope she’d had of reconciling their differences died with that harsh statement.
Because she had fudged the truth. It actually had been longer than that since last she’d bled. Her courses were a week late. And for the past few days, she’d been feeling weary and nauseous. With the confrontation with her grandfather looming, she hadn’t allowed herself to consider the possibility of pregnancy.
But now Maddy feared it might be true. And she couldn’t bring herself to tell Nathan, either. He would be all the more furious.
He didn’t want their child.
Chapter 21
The brightness of daylight pulled Maddy out of a deep slumber. She struggled to lift her heavy eyelids. Through the screen of her lashes, she saw a dark-clad, stout woman moving briskly from window to window in the bedchamber. It was Gertie, drawing back the draperies to let in the morning sunshine.
“Lord Gilmore sends a message, milady. He requests yer company in the library at eleven. And ’tis half past nine already.”
Maddy tried to focus her fuzzy thoughts. She had never before been invited into the earl’s private sanctum. She’d always waited until he was gone to venture into the library to select a book. Why would he want to speak to her?
Then the events of the previous night returned in a sickening flood. The Duke of Houghton in a wheeled invalid’s chair. A single tear sliding down his withered cheek. The angry words that had spewed out of her. Nathan hauling her out of the house in a fury and confessing that he’d been sired by a footman.
Of course Gilmore wanted an audience with her. He knew she’d concealed the truth about her background. She hadn’t seen him after leaving the duke’s house, for she’d gone straight to bed …
As Maddy lifted her head from the pillow, an overwhelming rush of nausea struck her. She scrambled out of bed and barely reached the chamber pot in time to retch.
Afterward, gasping and miserable, she pressed her forehead to the side of the bed. She felt Gertie’s hand gently rubbing her back. “Poor dear. But ’tis happy news, I’ll guess. Ye must be with child. Lady Gilmore will want t’ send fer the doctor—”
“No!” Maddy took a linen towel from the maid, using it to blot the cold sweat on her face. “No, you mustn’t bother anyone. Not just now.”
“’Tis no bother. And Lord Rowley’s gone out. But he’ll want t’ know when he returns. Won’t he be pleased!”
Nathan wouldn’t be pleased. Not at all. He had made that perfectly clear the previous night. I’ve no wish to give Gilmore a grandson—not anymore. Then he truly would win.
The memory of his icy wrath weighted down her spirits. He had walked her back to Gilmore House and then had taken his leave, his manner cold and formal. A shudder ran through her. He didn’t want a son. And he had not come to her bed last night.
Did it mean their marriage was over?
Maddy tamped down an incipient panic. Somehow, she had to get through the hours until she could speak to him again. Especially since Gertie knew nothing of their quarrel. The previous night, she had given the maid only an abbreviated version of the events at the duke’s house. Just enough to allay her curiosity.
She caught hold of the woman’s careworn hand. “You mustn’t tell anyone, Gertie. Not even a whisper. Please. It’s too soon and … I just want to wait for a little bit.”
Clucking in sympathy, the maid helped Maddy to her feet. “Mayhap ’tis wise since ye only just met the duke. ’Tis a lot fer ye t’ swallow all at one time.”
“Yes, that’s right.” Maddy seized on the convenient excuse. “I should like the uproar to settle down first. This house has had quite enough excitement for one week.”
* * *
An hour and a half later, Maddy heard the musical dinging of a clock chiming the hour of eleven as she approached the library. She had girded herself for battle in a jade-green gown with her hair drawn up in a simple twist. The awful nausea had subsided. She felt much better now after a breakfast of dry toast and weak tea. Almost normal, in fact, except for the ache in her heart.
She still had not seen Nathan. He’d gone out early this morning without leaving word when he’d return. Somehow, she must find a way to make things right between them. She would find a way.
After this meeting with the earl.
The library was located on the ground floor overlooking the garden. As she stepped through the doorway, Maddy could see the green of the outdoors through one of the tall windows. The floor-to-ceiling shelves held a vast array of leather-bound books, so many she could be happy for years perusing them.
But that wasn’t likely to occur. She didn’t know if she would be allowed to stay at Gilmore House. Or even if she wanted to do so.
Her gaze went to the two people seated side by side in chairs by the unlit hearth. She faltered a step before continuing toward them. Of course, this summit also would include the dowager.
The Earl of Gilmore rose to his feet and watched her approach. His pitted features looked as harsh as ever, his graying auburn hair neatly combed, his dark garb impeccable. Only a certain keenness to his brown eyes gave any indication of a change in how he viewed her.
She performed the requisite curtsy. Then he waved her into a straight-backed chair that faced the two of them. “Good morning, Madelyn. Pray be sea
ted.”
Clad in dark gold, the dowager lifted the quizzing glass that was pinned to her bodice and peered closely at Maddy as she sat down. “Ah, you do indeed have the look of Houghton. I can see it now in your cheekbones and eyes. And in the fair hair, too.”
Maddy folded her hands in her lap. She resented being examined like a butterfly pinned under glass. “People see what they wish to see.”
“Indeed,” the earl said. “And you wished for us to believe you were a baseborn actress. Why?”
“I never said I was baseborn,” she corrected sharply. “My parents were lawfully married.”
He gave a cool nod. “Of course. Forgive me. But you have not answered my question. You must have known that you would be far more acceptable to me as Nathan’s wife had I been informed of your close connection to the Duke of Houghton.”
Maddy pursed her lips. He was too astute not to have conjectured the answer. “My husband and I had made an agreement. I would play the vulgar strumpet, and in return, he would provide me entry to society. It was as simple as that.”
“Aha!” the dowager said, thumping her cane on the carpet. “So you were playacting when you first came to this house. All that nonsense and babbling was designed to fool us. But you already knew proper behavior. You’d learned it from Lady Sarah Langley.”
The earl held up his hand to silence his mother. He kept his gaze trained on Maddy. “Nathan didn’t know about your connection to the duke. He appeared every bit as shocked as we were.”
“I thought it best not to tell him. You see, both he and I have had our secrets.”
Maddy coolly returned his stare. She wanted the earl to wonder if she knew that Nathan had been fathered by a footman. Despite the estrangement in her marriage, she couldn’t bring herself to forgive this man for making Nathan’s childhood a living hell.
To her amazement, Gilmore looked away first. He abruptly stood up and paced to the fireplace before turning to regard her. “You should know that I had a conference in private with His Grace last night after you’d left. He wanted to know your background, where you’ve been all these years. I’m afraid I couldn’t enlighten him, at least not much.”