by Lydia Dare
Maddie could barely catch her breath. But she knew she was sticking to him. His sweat or hers, it was still sweat. And she didn’t care. Goodness, she didn’t care. She giggled.
“What’s amusing?” he asked, his voice rich and strong, even though his breaths were still ragged.
“Nothing,” she replied, settling her head against his chest, her body nestled snugly beneath his arm.
“Hmm,” he grunted as his body relaxed beneath her. “I can’t believe you woke me from a sound sleep just to have your way with me.”
“Surely you’re not complaining.”
He hugged her tightly and kissed the top of her head. “Never, but you need your rest, darling, and so do I. We have a long day ahead of us tomorr…” His words faded off as he fell asleep. Maddie followed him as easily into sleep as she had followed him into pleasure only moments before.
***
Maddie blinked her eyes open and shivered. Scotland was freezing even in the summer, apparently. She pulled the counterpane up under her chin and tried to rub some warmth into her arms. “Wes?” she croaked out. She instantly missed the warmth of the man she could now call her husband. She shook her head in bemusement.
She called for him again, but there was no response.
Groggy, Maddie rolled to her side, but she couldn’t see her husband. “Weston,” she said louder, lifting her head to peer around the room, though there was no sign of him. Where was he?
She shivered again. Why would he leave their room? She touched the side of the bed where he had slept the previous night, only to find it just as cold as she was. He must have been gone quite a while. An uneasiness seeped into her bones. Was he angry that she’d woken him the night before? She probably shouldn’t have done so. She’d groped him, for heaven’s sake.
What sort of lady does such a thing? The sort who jumps out of inn windows, runs from her loving father, and throws away the promising future that would have been hers. The sort who wanted the all-encompassing passion her husband had shown her. Maddie wasn’t even certain who she was anymore. None of those things sounded like something she’d do, and yet she had done every one of them. Something in the way Weston looked at her made her want to trust him, made her want to revel in his strong arms around her, made her do reckless things.
Well, she’d have to do one more reckless thing—order her own bath. Just the thought of sliding down into a tub of hot water made her smile. She could get warm and clean all at once. But first she’d have to don her tattered dress one more time. Maddie scowled at the thought. But there was nothing else to do.
She slid out of the bed, wincing as the cold wooden floor struck her feet. As quickly as she could, Maddie tossed her dress over her head and reached for her ruined slippers. A stab of regret pierced her heart as she thought about her father carrying her shoes all the way from Yorkshire to Scotland for her. His look of utter devastation was one she doubted she would ever forget.
Even so, Maddie tried to push the image from her mind as she opened the door and started down the hallway. She padded down the staircase, steadying her shaky legs by holding on to the well-worn rail. Who would have thought an evening spent with Weston would make walking difficult?
In search of the elderly innkeeper, Maddie entered the taproom and froze in her tracks. She spotted her husband sitting at one of the tables, with Lucy Reed sprawled across his lap. The actress giggled and pressed a kiss to Wes’ jaw. Maddie’s heart sank at the sight. She clamped her lips closed. Maddie refused to give Lucy Reed the satisfaction of seeing her upset.
She turned on her heels and scampered back up the steps to the safety of her room, barely managing to keep tears from spilling down her cheeks. She was the biggest fool ever born. Wes had promised her passion. He’d never promised fidelity. And she had no idea how much infidelity could hurt.
“Whoa,” came a male voice as Maddie slammed into what felt like a brick wall.
She glanced up to find the Earl of Dovenby frowning at her as he caught her by the shoulders to steady her.
“Are you all right, my lady?”
Maddie couldn’t hold back the tears or the sobs that had been threatening to erupt ever since she spotted Lucy Reed draped across her husband’s lap. Maddie couldn’t find her voice but shook her head as tears began to fall.
“Good God,” the earl mumbled. “Come with me.” With his warm hand on her back, Dovenby ushered her into a sleeping room that must have been his own. He handed her a handkerchief and soothed, “Don’t cry, my lady. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Maddie choked on a sob. How could she tell him what was wrong? Everything was wrong. She’d made a mess out of her life, thrown her entire future away because Wes had made her feel something. And now she felt something else entirely.
What a fool she was. She’d always known men were the most perfidious of creatures, but even that knowledge hadn’t helped her in the end. Numbness settled in her stomach and she thought she might be sick. “C-can you take me home?”
“Home?” he echoed.
“T-to my father,” she clarified. Papa had said she’d made her bed and she’d have to lie in it, but maybe he would forgive her and take her back.
“I think you better tell me what’s wrong, Lady Madeline.”
How could she tell him? Just the thought made her tears fall faster.
“There, there, my dear, it can’t be that bad. Do you want me to find Hadley for you?”
Maddie squeaked in horror. “I never want to see him again.” Not as long as she lived. He could take his fraudulent looks of devotion and go hang.
“Well, you probably should have decided that yesterday before you married the man.”
The earl was right. If only she’d never agreed to marry Weston. If only she’d never leapt out that window to him. If only she’d never seen that blasted wolf on the night of the full moon. “Perhaps something can still be done about that.”
Dovenby shook his head. “You married Hadley, and your father is well aware your marriage was consummated. Nothing can be done about that situation, my lady.”
And even though she knew he was correct, Maddie was determined to find a way to remedy her mess. So she was married to Weston Hadley. He couldn’t make her stay with him. She could go home, and now that she was a married woman, all of her father’s fortune hunters would have no reason to pursue her anymore. She only needed to make her father forgive her.
“Please, Lord Dovenby, I just want to return to Castle Hythe. I want my father and my grandmother.”
“Hadley has clearly upset you. Whatever it is, let him make it up to you. I’ve never seen a pup so besotted.”
Besotted. Maddie snorted as the image of the actress in her husband’s lap flashed again in her mind. “I’d hardly call him that.”
The earl raised his brow in question. “He really has done something dreadful, hasn’t he?”
Maddie nodded and more tears trailed down her cheek. “I saw Weston.” She dabbed at her cheeks with his handkerchief. “And Miss Reed. H-he held her in his lap and she kissed him, and I just want to go home.”
“She kissed him?” A dark look settled on the earl’s face, the intensity of which made Maddie shiver.
“I thought he cared about me.”
“We’ve all been deceived a time or two,” Dovenby muttered with a slight growl to his voice.
Was he talking about Lucy Reed? The first glimmer of hope sparked in Maddie. If the earl was upset about the situation, too, he might be persuaded to return her to her father. “Please, will you help me?”
Dovenby’s expression grew even darker. “It would be my greatest pleasure, Lady Madeline.” He led her over to his bed. “Wait for me here. I won’t be long.”
“Th-thank you,” she muttered. Now if only she could persuade Papa to take her back as easily. She had a few days to figure out how to convince him to do so.
Twenty
Wes swiped Lucy’s kiss from the side of his face and shoved the actress un
ceremoniously from his lap. She stumbled and came to her feet, then regarded him with a ferocious glare. “I was just getting comfortable,” she said.
“Go get comfortable with someone else,” he suggested. The very idea of Lucy Reed parking her obnoxious little arse in his lap was preposterous, particularly since he’d left his wife, the only woman he wanted anywhere near his lap, upstairs all warm in their bed. He was dying to get back to her. “Why aren’t you with Dovenby?” he asked as the actress flopped into a chair across from him.
“He hasn’t apologized properly.” She shrugged.
Properly probably meant with the offer of a house and a monthly stipend to fulfill all her needs. From what Wes had heard, Lucy was an expensive piece to keep.
“I can continue on with you and Lady Madeline, can’t I?” Lucy asked, drawing a circle with the tip of her finger on the back of his hand. He jerked it out of her reach and scratched at the itch she’d just provoked. Like fleas. Like vermin crawling across his flesh. He’d known she had a reason for perching herself in his lap. There was always an agenda with Lucy Reed. Her own.
“Absolutely not. Dove will put you on a mail coach, if you’ve need of transportation.”
“What did I ever do to you?” she sniped.
Nothing. And she wouldn’t do anything to him or for him in the future.
Wes glanced at his pocket fob. He’d been waiting for the damned innkeeper to return for more than twenty minutes. One would think one could get some service, since Dovenby had paid all his debts. Wes looked toward the staircase. Those steps were all that stood between him and his wife. Between sliding back between the sheets and drawing her into his arms. But he really wanted to order a bath for her. She enjoyed bathing. She liked being clean. And he felt a grin tug at his lips at the very thought of helping her wash her hair. And everywhere else.
She’d woken him the night before with her gentle exploration, and now he couldn’t get her questing little hands off his mind. Or the rest of her.
Dovenby strolled into the room and stopped short when he saw the two of them sitting at a table in the quiet room. “Don’t you two look cozy?” he drawled.
Cozy? Irritated was more like it. Wes would much rather be with his wife. Damn that innkeeper for being gone so long. “Morning,” Wes said as he drummed his fingertips on the table. “Have you seen the innkeeper about?”
“Haven’t seen the man,” Dovenby said with a shake of his head. The earl sat down beside Lucy and grinned at her when she straightened her back and looked at everything in the room but him. “What have you two been up to, I wonder?”
“Nothing,” Wes muttered.
Dovenby sniffed at Lucy, like a dog checking for a scent. It was almost as though the earl was looking for the scent of a man. Certainly Lucy hadn’t found another man during the night to make Dovenby jealous. She wasn’t that foolish, was she?
After a moment, Dovenby reached into his pocket and retrieved a satchel of coins. He held it out to her. She grabbed it like a hungry bird. “That’s not for you,” he said.
Lucy pouted up. “Who’s it for?” she said, with more than a bit of whine in her voice.
Wes had forgotten how annoying she could be.
“Why don’t you take Hadley shopping so he can buy his wife a new dress?” he suggested. “Last night I heard about a small shop in the village. Apparently, the woman there has quite the steady business from all of elopers who left with nothing but the clothes on their back.”
Wes sat forward. What on earth was Dovenby up to? He’d never been the generous sort without wanting something in return.
The earl looked over at him with a mock look of compassion. “She can’t keep parading around in that excuse she’s calling a gown. Poor thing is looking more than a little bedraggled.”
He was right. Maddie looked more like a fishwife than a duke’s daughter. “Why do you care what she looks like?”
Dovenby shrugged. “You should care what she looks like.” He held his hands up as though in surrender. “But by all means, neglect her, for all I care. She’ll love you all the more for it, I’m sure.”
Wes plucked the leather satchel from Lucy’s greedy fingers. She jumped for it and very nearly ended up in his lap again. He fended her off and pushed her gently back to her own chair. “I don’t need Lucy to accompany me,” he said as he shoved out of his seat. “I’m capable of picking out a dress on my own.” He looked down at the funds in his hand. “And I’ll pay you back, Dove, as soon as I get home.”
“You’ll pay,” the man muttered. “You’ll certainly pay.” But then he straightened and scoffed. “You don’t know anything about women’s clothing, Hadley. Take Lucy with you.”
Wes arched a brow at him. He’d removed more women’s clothing than Maddie would want to know about. “I believe I can handle it.”
“I’d suggest a woman’s opinion,” Dovenby said. “You may have held your wife’s hips in your hands, among other parts of her anatomy.” He grinned and shot Wes a look. One that made Wes want to punch him in the nose. But the blasted Lycan would heal within seconds. It probably wasn’t worth the scuffle. The earl continued, “But you don’t know actual measurements. And to go and ask her would ruin your surprise.” He took a deep breath. “Do something nice for the lady, for God’s sake. She sent her father packing for you.”
That was true. And she would feel better when she looked more like herself. He could get her some new underthings, too. The kind with lace. She might even want to walk around the room in them. God, he did love the idea of her in nothing more than her unmentionables and firelight. A grin tugged at his lips.
Dovenby elbowed Lucy in the side. “Go help him,” he encouraged. “The poor sop is clueless.” The earl didn’t look like he was joking when he said that. Had Wes somehow offended the man?
“Everything all right with you, Dove?”
The Lycan just smirked at him. “Fine,” he said crisply. Dovenby looked at Lucy and said, “Go with him, love. Get something for yourself. You deserve everything that’s coming to you.”
“I do, don’t I?” she preened.
“I’m certain you do.”
Wes glanced around the room. “I wanted to order a bath for Madeline.” But the damned innkeeper still hadn’t returned, blast his hide.
“I’ll take care of it for you,” Dovenby said with a breezy wave. “You’ll be surprised by how much I can accomplish while you’re gone.”
Wes looked down at the satchel of coins in his hand. Maddie would like a new dress, wouldn’t she?
“Let’s go pick out something beautiful for that wife of yours, shall we?” Lucy chirped, eyeing the purse as though it was ripe for the picking.
“Something modest,” Wes reminded her. Lucy would dress Madeline up as a whore, given any opportunity. “Maybe something pink.” It would match the flush on her cheeks when she smiled at him. Pink would do nicely.
“Take your time,” Dovenby called to his retreating back.
Wes waved over his shoulder without looking back. “Thanks, Dove.”
“Don’t mention it.”
***
Maddie was certain a millennium had transpired since Lord Dovenby had left her; however, in truth, it must have only been ten minutes or so. Still, it seemed as though her entire life had been turned upside down during his absence. She would have paced away her nervous energy, but she didn’t trust her legs well enough to stand.
Finally, the earl stepped back into his room and offered her his hand. “We should be off, Lady Madeline, before they return.”
Return? Maddie didn’t know her heart could sink any further than it already had. Weston had left with that actress? “They’re gone?”
He smiled sadly. “I sent them on an errand so we could depart without any unfortunate scenes.”
That was clever of him, she supposed. Maddie accepted his proffered hand and allowed him to pull her to her uneasy feet. “Thank you.”
Lord Dovenby directed her over
the threshold into the corridor. “Hadley is a fool.”
No, her husband was a cad, and Lucy Reed was a trollop of the worst sort. But Maddie didn’t voice her feelings. There was no point in doing so.
They quickly descended the steps, and the earl ushered her through the taproom where he stopped. He retrieved a bottle from his jacket and offered it to Maddie. “If you would be so kind as to douse yourself in this, my lady.”
“What is it?” She unstopped the bottle and winced when the scent of oranges met her nose. “Oh, that’s potent,” she said, pushing the bottle back toward him. “No, thank you.”
“It’s imperative that we mask your scent, Lady Madeline. Otherwise, Hadley will catch up to us within moments.” He narrowed his eyes. “You don’t want him to retrieve you, do you?” He looked offended for a moment, but Maddie couldn’t tell if that was a ruse or not. “You asked me to help you. I’m trying to do so.” He again offered her the bottle, which she reluctantly took. She applied the offensive oil to her neck and wrists. Dovenby leaned over and smelled her. “Not quite enough,” he said as though to himself. Then he upended the bottle and dripped the contents onto her skirts.
Maddie groaned loudly. This day was not going at all as she had planned.
“It’s not as though we can make the dress much less appealing, is it?” Before she could even gasp at his outrageous words, he took her arm and led her into the coaching yard where the Eynsford carriage awaited. Maddie dug in her heels when she saw an unknown driver holding the door of the coach.
Dovenby looked down at her in surprise. “What is it, my lady?”
“Where is Eynsford’s driver?” she muttered so low that only the earl could hear her.
His lordship raised a brow. “Do you really want to know?”