by Anne Herries
What had Hallam meant when he spoke of her release? She prayed that he would not do anything foolish, for unhappy as she was she would rather continue in the same way than have him risk his life for her sake.
* * *
Returning home an hour or so later, Madeline discovered that her husband had left word that he would not be home until late that evening. She was free to spend the time as she wished, for he had an appointment that did not include her.
Glancing through the invitation cards she’d received for that evening, Madeline thought that there was nothing she really wished to attend. Instead, she would spend a quiet night at home, perhaps reading or playing the spinet for her own amusement.
She went up to change for the evening, but then decided it was not necessary. She would take off her walking clothes and wear a loose sacque gown because she had no need to go downstairs for dinner.
‘You may bring me a tray up, Sally,’ she had told the girl and when she did so, ‘I shall spend the evening in my rooms reading. I will not need you again tonight. You may retire early or go out for an hour or two with a friend.’
‘I should like to visit a friend for an hour or so, but I shall be back by ten should you need me, my lady.’
‘Thank you, but I do not think I shall require help,’ Madeline said.
She had ordered a light supper and ate a few of the tasty morsels her cook had prepared, then picked up a book of Lord Byron’s poetry and begun to read. However, her mind was not at ease and after some minutes she put it down, rose and went through the dressing room. She paused and knocked, but there was no answer from her husband’s chamber so she turned the handle and went in.
Her heart began to race because she was very conscious of being where she had no right to be. Lethbridge did not encourage her to enter his rooms and she knew that he would be angry if he returned and found her here. She had come to search for her father’s notes. Hallam’s words had lingered at the back of her mind since leaving him and now she had gathered sufficient courage.
Her eyes moved round the room, lingering on the opulent bed with its four mahogany posts with the heavy silk curtains, the matching chests that stood each side, and the magnificent armoire, also a large mahogany desk with an elbow chair. It had not taken her husband many minutes to fetch the notes he’d given her the other evening so he had not locked them away in a secret compartment. No doubt he believed that she would not dare to touch them if she found them—and indeed, until this moment that had been the case. She would not even have considered searching for them, but something had changed in her and she no longer felt that it would be wrong of her to touch her husband’s things.
Breathing deeply, she began to search the chests, opening each drawer in turn and being very careful to return everything exactly as it had been. She glanced in the armoire, looking in the drawers that contained silk stockings and cravats, also several handkerchiefs, with embroidered initials in the corners. There were no papers of any interest other than a few receipts for items of clothing.
She walked softly over to the desk and pulled out the top drawer and discovered a leather folder. Opening it, she saw the sheaf of notes immediately: one that signed over her father’s estate and another for ten thousand pounds.
No wonder he had been unable to pay. What could her father have been thinking of to play so deep? He had gambled away more than his estate was worth and must have been ruined and shamed had Lethbridge demanded payment.
Madeline held her breath, her hand reaching towards the papers when she heard a sound outside the door. Snatching up the notes, she closed the drawer and fled into the dressing room just as the door into the hall opened. From behind the open door of the dressing table, she saw her husband’s valet enter carrying a pile of clean linen. He began to place the things in the drawers of the armoire. Madeline fled through the dressing room into her own bedchamber.
She was trembling, though whether from excitement or the fear of being caught she was not sure. For a moment she could not move, because she felt too weak, then she walked towards the fire and stood before it gazing down into the flames.
She had her father’s notes. She could destroy them by casting them into the flames and then... Her heart was racing so fast that she could scarcely breathe. It was what she wanted to do so very much, but did she have the right? Lethbridge had promised to return them to her father when she married him, but he had reneged on his promise. According to the bargain they had made, the notes were truly her father’s property. Madeline had every right to destroy them. Tearing them across three times, she tossed the pieces onto the fire and watched them burn. A feeling of elation rushed through her. Her father was free of the threat of shame. Madeline would send him a letter in the morning, telling him that the notes were destroyed.
Her elation lasted only a few moments. She had made certain of her father’s freedom—but was she herself truly free?
Hallam had told her that he would take her away with him and care for her. She could leave her husband this very night. Yet she knew him to be a vengeful man. Would he not seek to take revenge on both her and Hal? Would she in fact endanger the life of the man she loved?
Madeline was tempted to run, but fear held her. If she took the chance for freedom, Lethbridge would find some way of seeking his revenge—either upon her and Hal or her family...
Tears slipped slowly down her cheeks. She brushed them away, feeling empty and drained of hope. For years she’d thought of the notes as being the tie that kept her chained to a husband she did not love, but now she was frightened to leave him.
What ought she to do? If her husband discovered the loss of the notes he would be so angry and sure to punish her—but if she ran he might kill both her and Hal.
Did she have the right to endanger Hal’s life? Perhaps she should simply slip away somewhere by herself....and it would be best not to see Hallam again. Her life meant nothing to her, but she could not bear it if Hal died for her sake.
She would write to him, tell him that she could not see him—and then she would slip away, go down to the country and hope that her husband did not force her to return.
* * *
Hallam read the note that had come to him that morning. He knew Madeline’s hand immediately and his heart quickened with excitement. Was she ready to come away with him?
Scanning the brief lines, he stared in disbelief for some minutes before screwing the notepaper into a ball and tossing it into the fire. She did not wish to see him again. She had considered his offer and decided that she could not leave her husband. She begged his pardon and asked him to forget her.
‘Damn the rogue!’ Hallam exclaimed aloud. What had her wretched husband done to her now that she felt forced to write this letter to him? Had he not known better he would have thought her indifferent to him, but the look in her eyes when they met in the park told him that she still felt something for him.
Why did she feel constrained to stay with a brute who hurt and humiliated her?
Hallam found it impossible to understand. Of course there were the notes, but something could be done—and her family could live on his estate if the worst happened.
He must see her again despite this foolish letter, but first he had business with her husband. Mainwaring had played with him the previous evening and lost a thousand guineas and Hallam had watched, positioning himself so that he could see in a mirror on the wall at Lethbridge’s back. The count had made one fatal mistake. Hallam had seen him prick the corner of a card and them push the pin into the cuff of his velvet coat. Because of his frills and the heavy embroidery on the sleeve of the evening coat, it would be almost impossible for anyone to see the pin, but Hallam had seen him use it twice and was now certain of his facts.
It only remained for him to call the count a cheat and arrange the duel that would free Madeline of her husband once and for
all. However, he had been unable to establish when the next opportunity might arise for the count had spoken of perhaps going to the country shortly. If he did so that would mean postponing the confrontation, for he could hardly force his way into the count’s home to call him a cheat—nor could he follow him to the country. He could only hope that Madeline would be safe until the opportunity arose to force a quarrel on her husband.
* * *
Madeline saw Hallam as she entered the ballroom that night and her heart caught. She longed to go to him, but knew she must keep a distance between them. It would be foolish to arouse her husband’s suspicions for nothing. Lethbridge was in a better frame of mind than of late. Nothing more had been said of the marquis, nor had her husband mentioned anything he wished her to do for him, and she began to think she had imagined that he had some idea of giving her to the marquis.
‘I shall go to the card room,’ Lethbridge said. ‘Sit with your friends, Madeline. If you are asked to dance this evening, you may do so.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ she replied, glancing at his profile. A little nerve flicked at his temple, but he gave no other sign of emotion. Yet she guessed that there was conflict at work within him, though she could not think what it might be.
Seeing Lady Jersey sitting with some other ladies that she knew well, Madeline went towards them and sat on an available chair. She was soon drawn into a discussion about a young lady who was said to be the latest rage and watched Miss Catherine Anderson being courted by her admirers with amusement.
‘Will you dance with me, Lady Lethbridge?’
Madeline glanced up as Hallam spoke. She knew that she should refuse him, but seeing Lord Rochdale approaching her at that moment, she stood up with Hallam before he could reach her.
‘You ought not to have asked me,’ she said as he placed a hand at her back and drew her into a waltz. ‘It is useless, Hal. I cannot leave him...’
‘But he lies to you, he cheated you of your father’s notes.’
‘No, I have them back. My family is safe now.’
‘Then come away with me now—I beg you to leave him now, tonight.’
‘I am afraid of what he might do. Forget me, Hal. I am not worthy of you. I beg you to forget you ever knew me.’
‘Madeline...’ Hal stared at her in dismay. ‘Have you taken leave of your wits? Or is it that you care for him?’
Madeline met his eyes, tears hovering on her lashes as she said, ‘You must believe what you will of me.’ Breaking from him, she walked swiftly away from him and left the ballroom.
She went up to the bedroom given over for the use of female guests that evening and shut herself away in the closet provided for relieving oneself. There, she allowed her tears to fall until she could recover her composure. Returning to the bedroom, she washed her face in cool water from a porcelain jug and tidied herself before going downstairs. No trace of the tears remained, though she looked pale.
It was as she reached the bottom of the stairs that she saw the Marquis of Rochdale. He was about to enter the ballroom, but stopped and waited for her.
‘May I escort you back to the dancing, Madeline?’
‘I did not give you permission to use my first name, sir.’
‘Did you not?’ His lips curled in an unpleasant sneer. ‘You think to flirt with me and then spurn me, madam, but you will learn to know better. It will give me great pleasure to teach you a lesson.’
‘Sir, I think you forget yourself. I shall speak to my husband of your discourtesy.’
He laughed low in his throat. ‘Say what you will, Lethbridge may not be listening,’ he said. ‘A reckoning is coming, Madeline. Next week I dine with you—and then you will discover I am a man of my word.’
Madeline lifted her head proudly and walked past him into the ballroom. Her heart was thumping madly, but she gave no sign of it as she looked about her.
She was afraid of the marquis, afraid of what her husband had done—but she’d sent Hallam away. Oh, how she longed for a shoulder to weep on and a strong arm to hold her!
But it was best this way. She could not bear that Hal should know the depths to which she had fallen. It was best that she never saw him again, for she was soiled and shamed, no fit companion for any decent man.
* * *
Lethbridge rose from the card table after the Marquis of Rochdale had departed, taking his winnings with him. He had lost ten thousand pounds in one sitting to that detestable man and was now ruined. He could not pay without selling his country estate, and if he did that he would lose everything he cared for. His estate had been in his family for four hundred years and it was the source of his income—and his pride. Once it had gone, he would be dunned by all those he owed money to—and then...there would be nothing left.
There was only one thing that stood between him and complete ruin—his wife. Unless he forced Madeline’s father to sell his estate and pay his debts, in as far as he could...but even that would not suffice for he’d given Madeline more than twenty thousand and she’d destroyed them.
But there was one way that he could buy time. The marquis had made it plain to him what he wanted. If he gave him Madeline, he would return the notes and Lethbridge could carry on as before. He would take good care not to sit down with Rochdale again and somehow he would come about. He’d done it before and he could do it again—though never had he been as deep in debt as now.
He’d attempted to cheat this evening, but somehow Rochdale had known which cards he’d marked and turned them against him. He’d actually played into the devil’s hands. How could he have known which cards to look for? But of course, he must have learned to feel the corners for that slight unevenness caused by a pinprick. Most men never knew it was there—but Rochdale did.
Rochdale had made it clear that he would demand payment of Lethbridge’s debts, and he would use the cards to expose the count as a cheat—unless he gave him Madeline.
He must reply by noon the next day or he would lose all he had. He was caught fast in a trap—unless....
A plan had begun to form in Lethbridge’s head, a plan so wicked and devious that it made him shake with excitement. He would agree to the marquis’s demands—he should have his time in bed with Madeline when he came to dine, but then...
No court in the land would convict him of murder for shooting a man he discovered raping his wife.
He smiled unpleasantly. He would allow Rochdale to come to the house and to have Madeline once the notes were returned to him, but then he would burst in on them and shoot him as he lay in her bed.
Once, he could not have borne another man to touch her, but she was cruel and proud. Why should he care what happened to her? He could use her to destroy his enemy and then he could divorce her because she was spoiled goods and had shamed him.
It was such a neat plan that his good humour was restored. And since he was determined to be rid of his wife, why not foreclose on her father and make him pay with the sale of his estate?
* * *
Hallam left the ball feeling angry with Madeline. How could she stay with her husband when she knew what a worthless wretch he was?
Hallam had no idea of the turn events had taken that evening, but what Mainwaring had told him was enough to convince him that the count was close to desperate. His mind was made up—he must engage him in a game of cards as soon as possible for Lethbridge would certainly try to cheat and then he could expose him.
Hallam was torn by his doubts. He hardly knew Maddie these days. As a young girl he’d found her sweet and innocent, incapable of hurting anyone, but then she’d sent him away and married Count Lethbridge. He’d seen her flirting with the marquis and though she’d claimed Lethbridge might ruin her family if she left him, once she had destroyed her father’s notes, she said it was best if Hal forgot her. He was baffled. Was she the girl he loved o
r someone very different?
Walking home, he turned the thoughts over and over in his mind, trying to discover the truth, but he could not puzzle her out. How could he know whether Madeline truly cared for him or not?
* * *
Madeline rose the next morning feeling heavy-eyed. She’d hardly slept, her thoughts going round and round in circles. She’d regretted dismissing Hal so coldly and wished the words unsaid. Her husband was an unkind man and she feared him more now that he had become a harsh stranger, barely speaking to her unless absolute necessary, than she had when he had visited her bed and abused her both physically and verbally.
When he looked at her now she saw calculation in his eyes and wondered what he was planning.
Feeling close to desperation, she sat down at her desk and wrote a short note to Hal, begging him to meet her again in the park. She wanted to apologise, to make her peace with him and try to explain why she could never be the wife for him even if she were free. How could she when she feared that her husband had destroyed her ability to respond to physical love?
Lethbridge had abused her both physically and mentally; the physical scars were slight and soon mended, but she feared that he had made it impossible for her to welcome a man’s kisses...his loving...even if that man were the only one she’d ever loved.
When Hal had kissed her in the gardens on the day of Jenny and Adam’s wedding, she’d wanted to melt into his arms but then, suddenly, a feeling of fear and revulsion had made her draw back. How could she bear anyone to touch her intimately after...? Even the thought turned her cold and caused an acid sickness in her throat.
Her mind told her that it would be different with Hal, because he was a gentleman and he loved her, but her body had learned to fear the intimate side of marriage.
Somehow, she must explain to Hal. Tell him that she loved him, but could never accept him as a lover. She could never bear anyone to touch her again for she was soiled...shamed beyond bearing.