Secrets of the Heart

by Jillian Kent

  Madeline thought of her father and what a grand couple her parents made. She thought of what loving someone meant, of what losing someone meant. She had never lost a husband or been in love. But she’d seen what Mother and Hally had suffered. “I imagine you are lonely at times.”

  “Very.”

  She wondered what tomorrow would bring. “If only Father—”

  “Stop it, Madeline. That will do no good. You know he’s not coming back. He’s dead, and there’s nothing any of us can do about that.”

  Madeline nodded silently, feeling numb. Her shoulders drooped. Tears stung her eyes. “I do know that Father’s dead and that he’s not coming back. I’m not insane. But I am heartbroken. I don’t understand how you can fall in love with someone else so easily.”

  “I’ve told you my intentions, dear.” Her mother rose and went behind Madeline to massage her shoulders. “You really mustn’t worry. Nothing will change for you. If that is what’s on your mind, put it to rest. Now, do try to be happy for me. Please.”

  “You will be leaving Richfield to live on his estate, and you say nothing will change? Everything will change.”

  “No, dear, you don’t understand. We won’t be living at his home. We will be living at Richfield. That is the way I want it. Lord Vale has agreed to it.” She came around to face Madeline. “I want you to be happy too.”

  Madeline cringed inwardly at the thought of Vale living with them at Richfield. Nothing will change? Love must be blind if her mother refused to acknowledge that everything was changing and was spinning madly out of control.

  “I would prefer that you take more time to think this through,” Madeline continued, hoping her mother would come to her senses. “We really don’t know enough about Vale. Have you ever been to his home?”

  Grace pursed her lips. “It is not necessary, Madeline. I trust him.”

  “If he really makes you happy, then I will try to be happy for you.” She stood and embraced her mother but couldn’t stop feeling as though she were losing her mother, her last remnant of family, and there was nothing she could do to prevent it.

  “Thank you, dear. You’ll see. Everything will work out beautifully.”

  The following morning dawned dark and drear, a reflection of Madeline’s inner turmoil and mood. She’d tossed and turned most of the night dreaming of Ravensmoore and of her mother’s decision. If she allowed herself to feel any emotions, she might become as vulnerable as her mother.

  Madeline helped her mother dress in a beautiful red silk gown. “You are stunning,” Madeline said with admiration.

  Grace kissed her daughter’s cheek, then stood back as if closely evaluating her. “How did you sleep last night, darling? You look tired.”

  “I’m fine, Mother, really. I wish I could fit into one of your gowns. I’m afraid this riding habit isn’t well suited for a wedding.”

  A rap on the door startled her. She opened it to find Ravensmoore standing in front of her. He was impeccably dressed in black with a white cravat knotted perfectly at the neck. And in his arms was draped a lovely green dress, her favorite color, with a matching but dark shade of green pelisse. “Good morning, Lady Madeline.” He bowed formally. “I thought you may want to change. I apologize for being late, but it took a bit longer than I imagined finding the shopkeeper.”

  The man positively oozed genius, and that annoyed her. She dipped into a deep curtsy. “How wonderful. It’s very kind of you, Lord Ravensmoore. More than kind, actually.” She decided to pretend she was in control of her emotions and the situation. Nothing was further from the truth. “I’ll change quickly.”

  When Ravensmoore returned, she opened the door.

  He scanned her figure, seeming to approve as much of her as her dress. “I have exquisite taste,” he pronounced.

  Madeline blushed. “You, sir, are a rogue.”

  He ignored her charge and looked past her. “I must say, Countess, that you are a picture of beauty itself. I hope Vale realizes how lucky he is to have captured your heart.”

  “Thank you, sir. That is most kind.”

  “It is merely the truth. Lord Vale is waiting downstairs. I have come to escort you.” He held out his arm to Grace, who accepted it graciously.

  Madeline found herself jealous of her own mother. She followed them downstairs and couldn’t help wishing it was she herself getting married this morning. That a dashing gentleman had whisked her off to Gretna Green and that they would be sharing their lives together. She shook off a sense of loss.

  The remainder of the morning rushed by as she watched her mother and Vale exchange their wedding vows with one another. No church nor minister was needed. Only a pledge and a kiss in the tradition of hurried weddings at Scotland’s Gretna Green in the presence of two witnesses. To Madeline’s chagrin, she had to admit that Grace and Vale made a striking couple. Her mother’s alabaster complexion glowed against her red wedding gown, and Lord Vale’s blond magnetism stood out against his black clothes and tightly knotted cravat.

  “I hope you will be very happy, Mother.” Madeline hugged her. “I will miss you.”

  “Madeline, everything will be wonderful. I will see you in a fortnight.” Her mother hugged her tight and kissed her on the cheek once again. “I am very glad that Lord Ravensmoore will see you safely home.”

  Vale stepped up to Madeline. “You are a beautiful stepdaughter. I’ve always wanted a daughter.” Then he stepped in closer and whispered in her ear, “Now I have you.”

  Something in his tone and the glint in his eye made her shiver. She blinked her eyes as if trying to clear her thoughts. Perhaps she was overwrought and just imagined his tone of voice.

  As she and Ravensmoore departed the Welcoming Maiden Inn, a sense of foreboding anchored heavily in Madeline’s heart. “I hope she will be happy.” She looked at Ravensmoore sitting across from her. “Thank you for coming with me. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “I was pleased to be of service.” He removed his hat and laid it on the seat next to him. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’m a bit warm.” Then he unknotted his cravat, allowing it to hang down the front of his coat. “I wonder what you would have done with this revolver”—he withdrew it from inside his coat pocket—“if I hadn’t been with you?”

  Madeline squirmed uncomfortably beneath his gaze. “I always carry a pistol when I’m alone and riding. My father taught me how to use one.”

  “And were you planning on using this pistol on Vale?”

  Madeline looked away and pretended to study the scenery outside her window. “I meant only to scare him.”

  “I wonder if you thought at all when you pulled the gun. Emotional rages have killed before: a jealous husband, a scorned woman, dare I say an angry daughter?”

  She listened to his words and wondered if she’d indeed lost control of her emotions. She didn’t want to admit that, but perhaps, for just that moment, she had lost control.

  Madeline looked at him. His steady gaze unnerved her. “Rage is a powerful force,” she mused. “I think I can understand more and more how someone like Amanda could be pushed over the edge into insanity. It’s a fragile, dark line.”

  “You are beginning to sound like someone in the mad-doctoring trade. A doctor of the mind, as you’ve said in the past. An appropriate designation. Didn’t you accuse me of that after dinner at your home?”

  “I was angry… and confused.” The swaying of the coach relaxed Madeline. “I still am.” She watched the trees pass by outside the coach and listened to the sound of the horses’ hooves on the road. “What’s the difference, my lord, between Ashcroft Asylum and a prison?”

  “Very little, I’m afraid. I wish reforms would happen faster, but it’s a slow process. Those who suffer from severe melancholy, delusions, hallucinations, and such need a lot of help and better understanding. Unfortunately, there are many, even in Parliament, who believe that demon possession is responsible for this kind of ailment.”

  “And yo
u don’t?”

  “No more or less than I believe that any sickness of the body is from the evil one. Why should illnesses that affect the brain be due solely to the devil, but illnesses that affect other parts of the body be simply happenstance, neglect, or bad luck?”

  “An interesting thought, my lord. And one that makes a great deal of sense. Why are you interested in mad-doctoring at all? Why not simply do what physicians have done for years without getting so preoccupied with the workings of the mind?”

  “Because, dear lady, I don’t believe you can separate the mind from the rest of the body. There are secrets to uncover that will make medicine better. Look what they do to our own King George. He’s blistered and bled and even chained, and it makes no difference. Sometimes I think the treatment more hazardous than the ailment.”

  “But what else is to be done?” Madeline asked, her interest piqued. “Society can’t have lunatics running around causing mayhem.”

  Devlin sighed. “I’ve read Samuel Tuke’s works. He’s the grandson of William Tuke, a Quaker who believed that patients in asylums should be treated humanely and not like animals. He called this moral treatment.”

  “That is what Amanda needs. Or at the very least to be treated like a human being. I worry about her. I believe they starved that poor girl. I find it hard to believe she killed her father.”

  “And that brings us back to asylums being no better than prison. Ashcroft is Amanda’s prison. She will never get out. It is a sad thing.”

  Madeline shut her eyes, trying to hold back the tears. “It’s horrible.” She took a deep breath to quell the overwhelming emotions that choked her, but the tears betrayed the extent of her anguish.

  Suddenly he was next to her. “Let the tears come. It’s all right.” He put an arm around her and held her close.

  Beyond the worry of appearances and social regard, she lay her head on his chest and sobbed her anguish. All the strain of the past few days, along with the grief of the last few years, coursed through her.

  When at last her crying subsided, she found herself too exhausted to lift her head. Her eyes closed, and she slept.

  The rocking of the coach eventually woke her, and for just a moment she didn’t remember where she was. Then she heard the beating of his heart. Devlin’s heart. She gasped and sat up.

  “Lady Madeline. Are you all right?”

  He looked at her, and she noticed a softness in his green eyes that she’d never allowed herself to see before this day. Her hands went to her cheeks that burned. “I’m so embarrassed. Forgive me.”

  “There is nothing to forgive. You were exhausted. Do you feel better?”

  She smoothed her dress and patted her hair into place. “I’m not sure what to feel.” She turned to him and could no longer deny the attraction. Whether the closeness of him within the carriage or the relief of all she’d held within, something within her lightened.

  He placed his hand on her cheek and traced her bottom lip with his thumb. Tempest green eyes searched hers, and in that moment all else disappeared. Mere inches apart, Madeline longed to feel something again, something other than sadness. Instinctively she moved closer, and when his lips touched hers, she closed her eyes, reveling in the gentleness of his lips, the subtle smell of leather and spice on his skin.

  The driver pounded on the roof, startling her out of his embrace. They had arrived at the inn where they would claim their horses.

  Madeline pushed away from him. “We must both be mad.” She blushed and moved to the other side of the carriage.

  “Madeline.”

  “Ravensmoore.” She swallowed hard and looked into his eyes.

  Ravensmoore grinned. “I cannot find it in myself to apologize. I do believe we may have just discovered true sanity.”

  “This only proves why it is necessary for a single woman to be in the company of a chaperone when a man is present,” she replied tartly. He chuckled but followed her out of the carriage without further comment.

  Madeline enjoyed the ride on Samson to Richfield. His strength and speed invigorated her, and the weather brightened with her mood. Ravensmoore did not try to press his intimacies but kept the conversation bright and cheerful. And she was grateful, for she needed time to think away from this man who produced nothing but chaos in her head and her heart.

  They arrived at Richfield before dark. Madeline looked forward to a warm bath and sleep. The footman appeared to take their horses.

  “Would you like to come in and rest before you ride to the Blue Swan?” she asked. “You must be exhausted. You are welcome to stay the night. Phineas could avail himself to act as your valet. And then you could get an early start tomorrow.”

  Ravensmoore sighed. “I appreciate your kind offer, but I can stay only long enough to have Hippocrates here fed and watered. I want to meet with Dr. Langford early. He won’t be happy about my absence.” He dismounted and allowed the footman to take care of his horse while he stretched his legs.

  He reached up and helped her dismount. Regret crossed his face as he held her gloved hand lightly, looking down at her. “Because I am nearing the end of my training, I will be working nonstop for the next few weeks, and it is unlikely that I will be able to escape my duties to visit you. I hope you’ll understand.”

  “Of course.” Disappointment flitted at the edges of her thoughts, but she paid them no heed. “Thank you again for your help, Ravensmoore. I owe you a great deal.”

  “All you owe me is a promise to take care of yourself.” His voice was low, his tone gentle.

  “I will. Good night.” Unable to cope with the storm of newly awakened emotions, she turned away from him and walked into the house.

  When she slid beneath the covers a short time later, she fell asleep thinking of how safe she’d felt in his arms. A safety, she sensed, that could shatter all too easily.

  PART TWO

  For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.

  —2 TIMOTHY 1:7

  CHAPTER 12

  Our doubts are traitors

  And make us lose the good we oft might win

  By fearing to attempt.

  —SHAKESPEARE,

  MEASURE FOR MEASURE,

  ACT I, SCENE IV

  TRUE TO HER word, Grace returned from her wedding trip within a fortnight. As the days went by, Madeline watched Vale take control of Richfield… and her mother. He charmed his way into her mother’s soul and played her emotions better than Madeline could ever hope to play the pianoforte. But despite her mother’s pleading glances, Madeline remained cool and skeptical toward her new husband.

  Madeline spent every waking moment riding, gardening, or doing anything to get out of the house and away from the newlyweds. Hoping to gain a fresh perspective, she took a long walk in the gardens. It was a sunny morning in mid-April and no clouds threatened, but her mood grew darker. She did not know how long she could bear living in the same house as Vale. And as he’d warned, there had been no visits from Ravensmoore, only letters. In a time like this, the written word was cold comfort. She felt neglected and abandoned.

  Hearing voices, she looked up. Lord Vale and another man were approaching her from the direction of the stables. Vale waved. She hoped he wouldn’t detain her long.

  “Lady Madeline, I would like to introduce Amos Sullivan. He is the manager at Ashcroft Insane Asylum. He’s got a problem on his hands, and I thought you might be able to offer support.”

  Sullivan removed his hat and bowed. “Lady Madeline. A pleasure.”

  But Madeline didn’t see this as a pleasure at all. “Mr. Sullivan. What could I possibly do at Ashcroft?” She immediately thought of Amanda.

  “As you know,” Vale said, “I am a benefactor of the asylum. Naturally, Sullivan thought I might have some way of remedying the current situation.”

  “And that would be?” Madeline looked toward the house hoping her mother would join them, but she was nowhere to be seen.

>   “Twin boys, eleven years of age, have been dropped on the asylum’s doorstep. Their aunt who was caring for them died, and now they await transport to the Royal Military Asylum. Their father died in the war, and that allows them an opportunity for a decent life, but first they must be examined by a physician who will attest to their health.”

  Madeline frowned. “And how can I help?”

  “The children are a bit unruly. We would like you to teach the boys their manners and other subjects until arrangements can be made for them to leave. Dr. Langford insists on seeing them but can’t make time to come to Ashcroft for several days. Would you consider teaching the boys some lessons in preparation for their new home? It would keep them out of the cook’s hair, and I thought you might enjoy it.”

  Madeline thought of Amanda. This would be her chance to see the poor girl again and to find out how she faired. Madeline nodded. “I could help the boys. When would you like me to come?”

  “Tomorrow, at your convenience.” Sullivan bowed, and Vale smiled.

  Madeline nodded curtly then turned on her heel, eager to escape their presence.

  Madeline met the boys for the first time the day following her conversation with Lord Vale. This was her third day of teaching, and she found she looked forward to seeing the twins. Something about them had touched her. Their joking and cheerful spirits coaxed her out of her gloom and even revived her long-lost sense of humor.

  As she pushed open the door of the barn where they liked to play, she heard a string of colorful words that followed the sound of hoof meeting pail. “Jenny? Is that you?” She wandered toward the milking stalls, looking for the milkmaid.

  “Whad’ya want?” An angry, grime-smeared face jutted around the corner. “Oh, it’s you, my lady. Beg pardon.”

  Madeline nearly collapsed into the pile of hay behind her. “Jenny. Could you please not do that! You frightened me nearly into a swoon.”