Rescued by the Viscount's Ring

by Carol Arens

  His day would have been better spent courting his bride. As it was, he’d barely shared more than a few private words with her.

  Coming home, he’d found her where he’d hoped to, in his chambers. What he had not expected was that the dressmaker would have responded to his summons so quickly.

  Fabrics of every hue and texture were tossed about the room. Three women clucked around his wife as she stood on a wood box in the centre of the room.

  Mother gazed on, giving advice while holding Victoria Rose in her arms.

  ‘Gween,’ his child stated. Apparently even ladies of a tender age had opinions when it came to fashion.

  ‘Where’s my Emily Lark?’ he asked, seeing a mound of brocade shift on the bed.

  ‘Here, Faddie!’ She popped out from among the folds, then scurried off the bed, coming for him with lifted arms.

  At that point his mother handed Victoria Rose to him and told him to keep the girls entertained until business here was finished.

  He’d been going out the door when Madeline asked, ‘Is it snowing yet?’

  ‘Not yet, but it’s getting colder.’

  * * *

  As the day went on, he had tried to get his wife alone for some private conversation, but the coming social gathering captured all of his mother’s attention, which meant it captured Madeline’s, as well. No one could involve a person in her cause more thoroughly than Mother could.

  The hour was now late. The children asleep, his mother and wife retired for the night. Only a few servants going about the last duties of the day remained awake.

  If he could only get comfortable, he—The door burst open.

  ‘Is it true? You’ve married an insolent American?’

  Rees sat up slowly, plopping his bare feet on the floor.

  ‘Yes and no. Good to have you home, Wilson.’

  His brother leapt over the back of the couch, then landed with a thump beside him.

  ‘You and Bethany are married, I understand.’

  ‘Didn’t think you would mind since you married someone else.’ His brother stretched, yawning as if weary from a long, hard journey. ‘And I know there is an interesting story there.’

  Rees got up, stirred the coals of the fire, then turned back to look down at his brother.

  ‘You might have mentioned you were in love with Miss Mosemore. Had I not heard you crying all over each other in the garden, I would have gone through with the marriage contract.’

  ‘It was a poignant moment. We believed we were star crossed. But you? What happened? Bethie can only conclude you were trapped.’

  ‘Your wife was taken aback when she met Madeline. From the shock of it, I imagine. I can understand her confusion, but if anyone got trapped in this mess, it was my wife.’

  ‘But she managed very well for herself. Who would not want to become Viscountess?’

  ‘Madeline would not. I had to offer her an annulment in order to get her to agree to marry me. If she had not accepted, I have no doubt you would have thrown yourself in front of a hackney cab by now.’

  ‘Neither of us knew what her uncle had planned for her until your engagement was announced. Did you know he threatened to give her to old Baron Manderly if she did not accept you?’

  ‘Manderly is so old he can’t even button his own trousers!’ As threats went, this was an effective one. ‘It’s a good thing you married Bethany as quickly as you did. Langerby paid a call. He is furious, as you might expect.’

  ‘So, as I understand it, you convinced the American woman to marry you so that I could marry Bethie?’

  ‘I saw no other way around it. Any reason besides me already having a wife might be got around.’

  ‘I’m grateful, Brother, truly. If there is anything I can do to convince her to grant you the annulment, I will. No doubt she went title hunting no matter that you think otherwise.’

  ‘I’m going to overlook what you are suggesting about Lady Glenbrook since I suspect it has been coloured by your wife’s words.’ He sat down on the couch, speaking quietly. ‘Madeline is completely innocent in all of this. I never told her who I was.’

  ‘She married you thinking you were a sweaty fireman?’

  He nodded. ‘Indeed. She liked me better when I was. When we got off the ship, she had no more idea that I was Lord Glenbrook than Bethany had that I was married.’

  ‘I wish I’d been there.’

  ‘You always did like to see me squirm. But as I just said, I’ll excuse your insinuations about my wife’s character, but only this once since you have not met her. And so you know, the last thing in the world I want is for her to leave us.’

  ‘Well, then, that’s the last thing I want, too.’

  ‘Might not be.’ He probably shouldn’t be grinning, but how could he stop? ‘Mother’s planning a ball to introduce our wives to local society.’

  ‘Our mother knows no fear.’ Wilson stood up, scratching his hair, which was the same rich brown shade as Victoria Rose’s. ‘Anyone else would hide away from scandal, not invite it in.’

  ‘Well, there was Father. She did develop a rather strong backbone.’

  ‘Are you sleeping down here?’

  He nodded, grunted, ‘Annulment.’

  Wilson grimaced. ‘Ah, well, I’m going to bed my wife. I do appreciate your sacrifice on my behalf.’

  Watching his brother walk towards the door, he would have pitched something at him had anything been at hand besides an antique vase.

  Instead, he lay back down on the couch, bent his legs over the arm.

  Dash it!

  He leapt up and sprinted out of the library.

  * * *

  Madeline’s bed jostled; the mattress sagged. All of a sudden, the coverlet was no longer covering her. With the room so dim and cold, the bare skin of her arms and throat pebbled with chill.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked of the figure hovering over her.

  ‘This is my chamber. This is my bed. You are my wife.’

  ‘Nevertheless, I—’

  ‘I miss you and I’ve come to kiss you goodnight.’

  She eased up on her elbows, wishing she could read his expression in the dim light.

  ‘It is a common practice.’ Had she actually said that? She must have gone daft—or—she missed him, too.

  It would be untrue to say she had not been thinking of—all right, longing for—the nights they had shared in the ship’s intimate little cabin.

  His big hand closed over her upper arm, stroking away the gooseflesh.

  Was it not interesting how one could go from icy to sizzling in a blink? When his long fingers circled her throat, when his thumb stroked her collarbone, it left her breathless, that was what it did.

  ‘You said—’

  And speechless, as well.

  ‘I said I was going to kiss you.’ He shifted his weight and somehow it ended up with her lying flat on the bed and him on top of her, his great strong body braced on his elbows to allow inches of air between them. ‘And so I am.’

  He tangled his fingers in her hair, dipped his mouth so that the heat of his breath grazed her lips.

  Giving herself over to his kiss, Madeline was fairly certain she would never be cold again.

  ‘You are my angel. I will not stop saying so,’ he whispered, then pushed off her. ‘Choose me.’

  Getting off the bed, he covered her with the blanket. Tucked it with great tenderness about her.

  ‘You should not tell me things like that, Rees.’

  And yet those were words any woman longed to hear. Had she not dreamed her whole life of such a declaration? ‘It’s cheating.’

  He was standing in the doorway when he answered softly, ‘Not cheating as much as tweaking things in my favour.’

  He remained there for a long time, looking
at her, saying with his eyes what she had asked him not to.

  I love you, she heard with her heart.

  ‘We can have this and more. All you need do is say so.’

  And then he was gone.

  Yes, her heart whispered after him, wept after him.

  If only love was all there was to it.

  * * *

  The next morning at breakfast Madeline stood alone in the dining room, staring out the glass doors.

  The servants said it was too cold to snow. Was there such a thing? She desperately hoped not.

  Wait! Just there! Was that not a snowflake drifting past a tree limb? She stared at the way it lazily fell to the stones, as if it were a feather.

  Drat it! It was a feather.

  ‘Good morning,’ came a voice she recognised, but did not particularly want to respond to.

  While Madeline excelled in making friends, she feared she would never win over Bethany Dalton. The circumstances of their first meeting had been a blow and left them both dumbfounded.

  Still, she reached within her heart for a smile, then turned around. ‘Good morning, sister. May I call you that, Mrs Dalton?’

  ‘I’m rather surprised you would wish to, given how condescending my attitude towards you was when we first met. I thought you—’ She bit her bottom lip, shook her head. ‘I did not understand everything until last night when Wilson explained it all.’

  ‘Given that I’d married your fiancée, no one would have faulted you had you tossed me off the dock.’ She reached for Bethany’s hand and gave it a quick squeeze. ‘I did not know about you until the second we met. By rights we both ought to have tossed Lord Glenbrook off the dock.’

  ‘Perhaps we will think of something yet.’

  Madeline breathed in a secret, but relieved, sigh. It was a great relief to know that she would get along well with Wilson’s wife. It would be horrible to have bitter feelings towards a member of one’s own family.

  She went utterly still inside, realising that without a second thought she had counted Rees’s family as her own.

  What could that mean since she had not yet made her decision?

  Had she?

  Certainly not!

  All at once, Emily Lark and Victoria Rose burst into the dining room, trailed by their grandmother.

  ‘They have already eaten,’ Lady Glenbrook announced.

  Emily Lark smiled at her through a smear of red jam while her sister licked something that could be butter from her fingertips.

  If Madeline had ever seen anything as sweet, she could not recall the event.

  ‘Look at the two of you,’ Lady Glenbrook declared with a great smile. ‘I can scarce believe I have daughters after all these years. Let’s eat our breakfast and you can tell me your ideas for your party.’

  Madeline glanced at Victoria Rose. The child seemed to have ideas and not good ones. Greasy fingers reaching, she dashed towards a ruffle on Bethany’s fashionable blue skirt.

  Bethany gasped, backing up and swiping her skirt to the side.

  Intercepting her, Madeline scooped her up and settled her on her hip. A memory stirred in her heart of mauling someone’s skirt when she was small, but she could not quite bring it forth. Whatever it was made her miss her mother dreadfully.

  Victoria Rose touched Madeline’s cheeks with buttery fingers. ‘My mama.’

  Bethany’s face looked flushed as she pressed one hand to her heart. ‘I’m sorry I reacted so badly, truly I am, but I’m not good with little children. It’s worked out for the best that you are their mother. I fear I would have failed them miserably.’

  ‘I’m sure you will be a top-rate auntie,’ Lady Glenbrook declared. ‘And when the time is right you will be an admirable mother.’

  Madeline buried her nose in Victoria Rose’s soft brown hair. Was the time right for her to be a mother? She could not say for certain. But she did know that a smear of butter on her skirt would not have bothered her.

  ‘Lady Glenbrook,’ the butler announced, standing in the doorway and looking distressed. Rees’s mother and Madeline turned in response. ‘Lord Langerby has come to call on the Viscount, but he’s gone to visit his tenants. Shall I send him away?’

  ‘No.’ The Dowager sighed. ‘Ring for tea and I’ll see what is to be done about him.’

  ‘It’s for me to do.’ Bethany squared her back, lifting her chin. ‘He’s my uncle and he’d not be here if I’d stood up to him in the beginning.’

  ‘We’ll all go,’ the Dowager insisted and sailed out of the dining room as if blown along by a stiff wind.

  They rushed after her, Emily Lark lagging behind.

  Hearing the child’s whimper, Madeline paused for her to catch up.

  ‘Come, sweetling.’ She bent and Emily Lark rushed to be picked up.

  They all hurried after the Dowager, down two corridors and into the formal parlour.

  Milton Langerby stood in the centre of the room, hands behind his back.

  He rocked on his heels, smiling as they came in one by one.

  Odd, she had not expected him to appear congenial. The angry voice she had heard on the other side of the garden fence in Liverpool did not fit with the man giving effusive greetings to his niece.

  Odder still, his voice was louder and deeper than was seemly for his diminutive body.

  Lord Langerby looked like a skinny bird, his movements quick and fidgety. Madeline had the distinct feeling that at any moment his show of affability would burst and he would turn into a small, fighting cock.

  It was not hard to imagine talons flying at Bethany’s throat.

  Luckily the footman wheeled in the tea tray before her imagination took her further down a nightmare path.

  Lord Langerby sipped his tea and complimented the little tarts. He was lavish in praise of his niece’s marriage, even complimented her blushing appearance, then chuckled at how wedded bliss agreed with her.

  Yet Madeline had the distinct impression his words did not match his heart. This was a man to be wary of.

  If Lady Glenbrook felt the same, she gave no indication of it. She smiled and chatted politely until Lord Langerby stood up, signalling that the visit was at an end.

  And not a second too soon. While Madeline had held the twins, one on each knee, she was privy to their quiet conversation. They thought the visitor had a long, pointy nose. It could only be seconds before they shared the opinion with everyone else.

  ‘Come, my dear niece,’ Langerby said. ‘I’ve something for you, a gift, but I would like to give it to you in private.’

  The fine hairs on the back of Madeline’s neck stood to attention.

  Bethany did not answer, but trailed slowly after her uncle as the butler led the way to the front door.

  ‘Follow them,’ Lady Glenbrook whispered, taking the twins from her arms. ‘But be careful. Stay hidden.’

  Staying hidden was one of her greatest talents. She could not recall a time when it was more useful than now.

  Dashing to the hall, she peered through a lace rose in the curtain.

  Rather than going directly to the waiting carriage, Lord Langerby took Bethany by the elbow and led her down a path that ran parallel to the drive.

  Madeline was in luck. Tall shrubs grew on both sides of the walkway. As soon as her quarry vanished behind the greenery, she lifted her skirts and dashed after them.

  Full of arrogance, the man must not expect to be trailed because he stamped along the path, making a noisy business of it.

  Really, this could not have worked better to her advantage. She might have been an elephant tramping through the brush and he’d not have noticed.

  ‘Aren’t you the clever one?’

  For half a second Madeline could not determine whether she’d heard spoken words or a hiss. Either way the sound gave her a chill.
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  ‘It was not my doing that the Viscount married someone else, Uncle.’

  ‘No? You ought to have done something to ensure it was you the Viscount married.’

  What sort of something? The image popping into Madeline’s mind made her feel rather angry—possessive, to put a finer point on the emotion.

  Rees was her husband! Even the suggestion of another woman in her place made her want to steam.

  Yet what did she think would happen if she annulled the marriage? Some woman would snatch Rees up in a heartbeat—that lady would become a mother to Emily Lark and Victoria Rose.

  The woman was only imaginary, yet Madeline wanted to—

  ‘I have not spent a fortune raising you all these years to get no profit from it.’

  ‘I have always been dutiful to you. Obedient in everything.’

  ‘You failed me in the one thing that counted most. Doors that would have been open to me because of your title will not be. Business ventures I would have made from your contacts, lost.’

  ‘Do you not see I had no control over any of it?’

  ‘You married a second son rather hastily.’

  ‘I love him, Uncle.’

  ‘A complication only. Let me think upon it for a time. There might be a way to turn this problem to our advantage.’

  ‘But I—’

  ‘Will be obedient in whatever I decide. Your loyalty belongs to me.’

  ‘No—’

  ‘I will return to inform you of what I will have you do,’ he said, cutting off Bethany’s protest. ‘In the meantime you will be attentive to Lord Glenbrook—you do understand my meaning?’

  Why, the great diminutive devil!

  A truly odious laugh whispered through the leaves.

  Madeline was thankful for the thorny thicket that separated her from Lord Langerby. She wanted desperately to burst through the thorn bush and stamp on him! Squash him flat like a bug.

  Making friends of foes was all well and good, but sometimes one encountered people who made it impossible.

  Indeed! Bertrand Fenster on his worst day was a better human than Milton Langerby on his best and she had left him behind without a parting smile.