Rescued by the Viscount's Ring

by Carol Arens

  * * *

  Madeline felt useless, a stranger with nothing to do but watch while the servants bustled about and the Dowager urged them to greater speed.

  If her mother-in-law meant to outrun the scandal, Madeline thought it unlikely.

  Disgrace was the crown perched upon the heads of the Dalton family. As Lady Glenbrook, Madeline’s crown would gleam as infamously as anyone else’s would. It was on her account that poor Miss Mosemore had been jilted, after all.

  As far as public sentiment went, it mattered not that what had happened worked for the good of those involved.

  Even Rees’s mother had quickly seen the wisdom in her eldest son’s hasty marriage. When the facts were explained, Abigail Dalton had simply pressed her hand to her bosom, shook her head, then declared she was grateful that Wilson would not pine his life away and Rees not spend his guilt ridden.

  After that she wrapped Madeline in a great hug, thanked her for saving them all from ruin and welcomed her to the family.

  There was still ruin to be faced, of course, but of the social kind that would be overshadowed when another outrage to polite society was unearthed.

  In Madeline’s opinion, if titled members of society had productive work to do they would not fall to pieces over every social faux pas.

  And yet here she was, an accidental peer standing in the parlour and uselessly observing others rush about.

  Well, not completely useless. Victoria Rose and Emily Lark trailed her skirts like a pair of giggling bubbles, which kept them out from underfoot of people who were actually working.

  A movement at the doorway caught her eye.

  ‘Faddie!’ Emily Lark rushed for her father and he scooped her up.

  He nodded at Madeline with a smile, then carried his daughter to the far side of the room where his mother wrapped a silver candlestick in cloth.

  ‘Mother.’ He kissed her cheek. ‘Do you not think it a bit hasty to leave Liverpool so quickly?’

  ‘I do not. Really, Rees, the sooner we leave the less chance we have of a visit from Lord Langerby. I would just as soon avoid that.’

  Emily Lark clamped her chubby arms about her father’s neck, pressing her smooth cheek to his unshaved one. ‘Ouchy!’

  ‘I’m afraid that is unavoidable,’ he answered.

  ‘Perhaps so, but we will avoid it for as long as possible. Besides, I’m certain Wilson and his bride will not come back here and I would like to greet them in Derbyshire.’

  ‘No doubt—’ Emily Lark tickled her father’s ear, probably trying to get him to laugh at her, but to no avail ‘—you do, but they—Emily Lark, I’m trying to speak with Granny—want to be alone for a time. It’s better we remain here and not make it look as if we are running away.’

  ‘Running away! Saying it that way sounds cowardly. But we are not running, my son. We are simply stepping out of the way of an oncoming train, which is a wise thing to do. It will appear that we are simply going home for Christmas.’

  At last Madeline found something useful to do. She picked up Victoria Rose, then relieved Rees of Emily Lark.

  ‘Come, sweet chicks,’ she said, with a bright smile which she hoped would defuse the tension of the discussion between Rees and his mother. ‘Let’s go play in the garden.’

  ‘Play with Mama!’ Victoria Rose announced, which made her twin clap her round little hands and dance about,

  What a pickle I am in, she thought while going out a pair of wide doors leading to the garden. The girls had laid claim to her as their mother. She was their father’s wife, after all, and they had every right to expect it to be so.

  Madeline wanted it to be true! Still, for now she could promise them nothing. At the same time, she could not deny them the affection they craved.

  Poor little motherless babies. Her heart longed to wrap them up as much as it recoiled from doing so.

  She had vowed she would never run away again. But what if she weakened and did it? And after giving herself to them as their mother? She would be the worst human on the planet.

  For now she had only offered to play in the garden. All that was required in the moment was to enjoy it—to laugh and indulge in childish games.

  A cool breeze tumbled the last of autumn’s leaves over stone paths, but the clouds had blown away and the sun shone down to give the impression that it should be warm.

  The thought occurred to Madeline that the weather mirrored her feelings. Her storm had cleared, but doubts crossed her path like the scuttling leaves. Love shone in her heart and gave the impression that she would live a happy life with Rees, but did she not need time to know if he could be completely trusted? Or that she could?

  ‘Find us!’ both young voices cried at once.

  A good game of hide-and-seek ought to set her spirits to rights. She closed her eyes and counted to ten slowly, then set off to search under benches and behind statuary.

  Emily Lark’s pink ruffle peeked from behind a tree trunk, but she chose to ignore it for a moment. It was no fun to be caught out right away. Better for the suspense to build while she called their names and pretended to be at a loss as to where they had gone.

  Suddenly a man’s voice came from the street beyond the garden wall, cursing viciously. The peace of the tranquil spot was ruined.

  The stone wall was tall, so she could not see him, and he hadn’t spoken so loudly that it disturbed the girls’ play, but still she urged them to a deeper part of the garden.

  Such vitriol was not meant for innocent ears.

  Madeline walked back to the wall. Her ears were not unsullied and she did want to know what the angry fellow was about.

  ‘Uncle Milton, perhaps you ought to return when your temper has settled?’ urged another man’s voice.

  Milton Langerby? It could only be him.

  ‘Perhaps you ought to shut your mouth. I demand satisfaction over this outrage!’

  ‘Duelling has been outlawed for years. No one does it any more.’

  ‘Satisfaction can be had in many ways.’

  ‘I say we come back when you have thought things through.’

  ‘There is nothing to be thought through. Lord Glenbrook has broken our contract!’

  Madeline sorely wanted to stand on a bench, pop into view over the wall and point out that all parties had been in agreement over it—or, if not in agreement exactly, done what was necessary.

  She could not, of course, for in that moment Victoria Rose’s curly-haired head popped out from behind a statue of Cupid. ‘Here I is!’

  While appearing to continue the game, Madeline tried to hear what the men said, but got only disjointed words: betrayed, ruined, humiliated, revenge. Hopefully she had heard that last one wrong.

  But what she did know was that the man was not going away before he confronted Rees.

  No wonder Lady Glenbrook was rushing to get them all to the country so quickly.

  Rees’s encounter with the man on the other side of the wall would not be a cordial one.

  Dealing with unkind gossip was one thing. Facing the anger of a man whose niece had wed a second son rather than a viscount would be quite another.

  She would have run to warn Rees, but already the man and his angry words had ploughed a path towards the front door.

  Knowing her husband, he was well capable of handling the situation on his own. She would best serve him by staying here and keeping his children away from the ugly situation.

  ‘One! Two! Three!’ she counted loudly, in order to ensure the girls did not hear anything they ought not to.

  * * *

  The carriage ride from Liverpool to Green Knoll had been a long and mostly silent one.

  Silent when his daughters were sleeping, that was. Little girls, Rees was quickly learning, loved nothing more than to talk. Even if what they had to say made little sense, they jab
bered on.

  The encounter with Langerby had been hard on everyone, even the staff. The man’s boisterous threats of legal reprisal had rung from one end of the town house to the other.

  Rees had remained mostly silent throughout the tirade. The fellow was not the most pleasant of men even when he attempted to be. When he had explained in the calmest voice he could that Wilson and Bethany were in love, it only incited Langerby to further anger.

  Apparently the man did not believe in love.

  He wanted his niece to be Viscountess Glenbrook and Miss Mosemore’s heart played no part in the matter.

  Milton Langerby was unreasonably bitter at what he considered his niece’s disloyalty, dangerously so in Rees’s opinion.

  He was wrong about Bethany’s loyalty. Had Rees not married Madeline, the girl would have gone through with their marriage bargain.

  Doing so would have dashed her life and Wilson’s, but she would have been obedient to her uncle.

  He could not fault her for it. It was what well-bred British ladies did—married for the benefit of family position or to bolster sagging fortunes.

  Until Langerby was able to see matters in a sensible light, Rees thought it best to warn Wilson to keep his bride away from Liverpool, perhaps even London.

  Glancing across the dim interior of the carriage, he could just make out the profile of Madeline’s face. She appeared to be asleep with Emily Lark tucked under her chin. Without a doubt his daughter was smiling contentedly and having sweet dreams.

  Let Milton Langerby carry on until his lungs gave out. Rees would do everything again, much in the same way.

  The carriage rocked gently over the road. In time he drifted off to sleep like the rest of the people in the carriage.

  It seemed only a moment before the driver rapped softly on the hood.

  They were home. Away from the acid tongues of society and safe from the threats of Bethany Mosemore’s uncle.

  Safe for a time. Rees did expect his solicitor to be paid a call by Langerby’s solicitor.

  In the end, the matter would be sorted out. For now his attention would be better spent on the future of his marriage.

  The carriage door squeaked when it opened. Mother and Madeline awoke.

  Rees helped them down the steps, taking Emily Lark from Madeline and Victoria Rose from his mother.

  He’d missed his little girls while he’d been away and cherished the weight of their small sleeping bodies in his arms.

  Too soon the manor staff rushed out the front door to take them from him.

  His mother trailed wearily after them, but Madeline remained behind with him.

  Coming home, he always paused for a moment before going inside. He’d travelled many places, but coming back to Green Knoll Manor always gave him a sense of belonging.

  It always felt right to stand a moment and let a sense of peace, of thankfulness, wash through him.

  ‘It all looks magical by moonlight,’ Madeline murmured. ‘I can only imagine how beautiful it is in daylight.’

  She was right—everything appeared washed in enchantment. With the fat moon so low in the sky, it seemed to be sitting atop the chimney. Beyond the house, peaks of rolling hills were glazed in pearly light.

  She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow while they made their way slowly towards the stairs. He did not imagine she leaned into him going up.

  ‘I hope you will be happy here.’ For ever. Of course, he kept that last to himself.

  It would have been good to hear her say she believed she would, but she did not. She didn’t speak again until they reached the top step.

  From here the dim illumination of lamps in the hall invited them inside.

  All at once, he scooped her up, carrying her over the threshold of his home.

  She squeaked in surprise. Perhaps she did not consider herself to be a proper bride, but he was going to treat her as if she were.

  ‘Where will I sleep?’ she asked, no doubt concerned that he might carry her off to his chambers. Oh, he did want to do that. The image of it pulsed vividly in his mind’s eye.

  ‘The staff will only now be discovering we are wed. They will not have had time to prepare for you.’

  He did not put her down, but strode across the grand hall.

  ‘Is there a cot in the children’s quarters? I’ll be content there.’

  ‘I will not be content to have you there.’

  ‘But don’t you think it is best we sleep apart? There is an annulment to be thought of.’

  If she wanted to be separated from him so badly, he assumed she would be attempting to get out of his arms, not snuggling closer to his chest.

  ‘Ah, my angel, there is. I’m going to do my best to convince you not to seek one.’

  ‘But you did promise and until then we—’

  ‘I only promised because I was afraid you would not marry me unless I did.’

  ‘Oh, Rees, you know how I care for you. But I’m afraid at the same time.’ She sighed, sadly, he thought. ‘I need time, that’s all. Enough to know you meant what you said—that I can trust you to keep your word.’

  ‘I will let you go if it is what you want. But here’s another vow.’ He’d like to seal it with a kiss, but knew he should not. ‘I vow to do my best to make you stay.’

  ‘You can’t do that!’ she exclaimed, still making no attempt to free herself. ‘I do not accept your new vow. The choice is mine to make, one way or another.’

  So it was. ‘What can I do to convince you to choose me?’

  ‘Simply be honest with me—in everything.’

  Suspicion about the neighbours was not knowledge—exactly. Remaining mum about a suspicion was not dishonesty. Especially not when it concerned the greatest wedding gift he could present her with.

  ‘You will take my chambers. I’ll find someplace else to sleep.’

  ‘Thank you.’ She snuggled her cheek against his neck. What a contradiction she was, trusting him and not trusting him all at the same time.

  But no doubt he was a contradiction to her as well, given the way he had loved and yet deceived her.

  To have believed him to be an honest, hard-working man and then to find he was a dishonest viscount? It was no wonder he was leaving his wife off at his chamber door, then going to sleep on a couch in the library.

  He did not deserve a goodnight kiss. Which did not mean he would not try for one.

  ‘Here we are, my angel.’ He set her down, pulled her closer.

  Damn it! It was her fingertip touching his lips, not her mouth.

  ‘I think it best if you do not kiss me. Certainly do not call me yours.’

  ‘You are wrong, Madeline. It is not best, but I will honour it.’ Quickly, before she could react, he did kiss her cheek. He would have that at least. ‘I’ll see you at breakfast.’

  When he was a step away she caught his hand, squeezed it, then let go. ‘I miss our cabin aboard the Edwina.’

  ‘As do I. Sleep well, my angel.’

  Before she could contest the endearment, he hurried along the hallway, down a flight of stairs, across the hall, then down another long hallway to the library.

  The room was cold and dark. Since no one would have anticipated him sleeping here, there was no fire in the hearth.

  Dash it, but he did not want to be here. All his life he’d been an honest man, fair in all his dealings.

  Now he needed to prove that he was once more that man. He needed to prove it to Madeline and he needed to prove it to himself.

  At least she could trust him to keep his word that she would have his chamber to herself.

  Once he found her grandfather and gave her a wedding gift beyond all others, she might take him back to her heart.

  If she did not, he would stand by his promise and grant her the annulment.
Dash it, even the word made him feel sick.

  So did thinking about how voiding his marriage, treating it as if it had never been, would hurt his children.

  Already his babies were calling Madeline ‘Mama’. He could not let that continue without knowing she would be willing to be that for them.

  It hit him that the time he had longed for, depended upon, was more his enemy than his friend. Yes, he needed it to properly court Madeline and win her trust. But hour by hour his daughters were becoming attached to her, putting her in the place of the mother they never knew.

  All they had ever known was a father. A father who could not possibly place his well-being above theirs.

  There was but one thing to be done.

  Go to Fencroft Manor and discover what he might. It would be foolish to put it off. He had learned that lesson aboard ship. He had nearly lost Madeline over it.

  Hopefully he would not again.

  What he most fervently prayed was that her love for him was as great as her love for them—that she would choose to remain Lady Glenbrook.

  * * *

  ‘A Christmas ball!’ Rees heard his mother exclaim when he walked into the dining room the next morning. ‘Or if not that, then New Year. We must get you introduced to society as soon as possible.’

  ‘Oh, yes! There is nothing quite as wonderful as a winter ball.’ Madeline looked as pleased with the notion as his mother did.

  ‘Not everyone will make it, naturally. It is short notice and many of the neighbours are still in London. It will be a smallish gathering, but lovely all the same.’

  It was hard not to smile seeing the pair of them becoming close so quickly. Of course, it was nearly impossible to be anything to Madeline other than a friend. She gathered them like a botanist gathered flowers.

  ‘Good morning, Rees.’ His mother stood up, kissed his cheek, then pointed to the buffet. ‘We saved you a slice of ham.’

  ‘One?’

  ‘If you’d not slept the morning away and been here at a proper hour, we would not have indulged as we did. I put it solely on your shoulders if our waistlines thicken.’