But that was clearly the wrong tactic, Christian thought with an inward curse. If she’d shouted at him he’d have been less afraid than he was at hearing her softly angry tones.
“I am what?” Maddie asked with deceptive calm. “I am a weakling because I had the misfortune to be born a woman instead of a man? Is that what you’re saying?”
“No, damn it!” Christian said, unable to keep the harassed tone, and the expletive, from his response. How did he manage to constantly be at verbal daggers drawn with her? “You’re twisting my words,” he went on in a calmer tone. “I only meant to say that Viscount Linton is his own person and shouldn’t drag you into danger with him.”
“I am already there,” Maddie said vehemently. “I was there. I held that man in my arms as he drew his last breath. If you understand anything about anything then you should know that such an occurrence has affected me deeply. And my brother’s friendship with him only makes it more imperative that I do what I can to make sure that his killer is brought to justice.”
Her words sent a jolt of terror through him. Lady Madeline Essex searching for Tinker’s killer was the last thing he wanted to see. She’d already endangered herself enough with her visit to Mrs. Bailey’s.
Careful to keep his fear from his tone, he said, “Lady Madeline, Maddie, you are not under any obligation to find this man’s killer. Leave it to the authorities and I promise you that I will keep you apprised of any developments that might affect your brother.”
He hoped the promise to keep her in the know would reassure her enough to let the matter go. He wasn’t prepared for her next question, however.
“You just said that it should be left to the authorities,” Maddie said, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “And yet you say you will keep me apprised of things as they pertain to James. What do you know about the situation? Are you working for the authorities now?”
“No, I misspoke,” Christian said quickly. Damn it. Damn it. Damn it. “I only meant to say that if I should hear anything about the business, I will share that information with you.”
But it was too much to hope that she would be fobbed off with such a tale.
“I don’t believe you.”
Maddie’s gaze was cool, self-assured. At any other time he’d have found it damned attractive. To be honest, he found it attractive now. But he also recognized that her expression spelled trouble for him one way or another for the next few weeks.
“I thought it was odd for you to be in such a place as Mrs. Bailey’s last night,” she said conversationally. “You aren’t known for being much of a gamester. Even tonight you aren’t haunting the card room like most gentlemen do to avoid the matchmakers.”
“That doesn’t mean that I can’t have taken a recent interest in gaming,” Christian said, though he knew she would not believe him. Her skepticism had shifted into certainty.
“You were there following my brother,” Maddie continued, hammering another nail into the coffin of his peace of mind. “Or Mr. Tinker. It doesn’t matter which, only that you were there when Mr. Tinker was murdered and now you’re convinced that Linton had something to do with it.”
“You can’t know any of this,” he said, still keeping up the pretense of denial. “I am a gentleman and as such am free to go wherever I choose. It is a mere coincidence that I happened to be there on the same night that Tinker was killed.”
“You might even have killed him yourself,” she said suddenly, standing up, her hands covering her mouth in dawning horror. “Oh, God. You didn’t, did you?”
Leaping up from the bench, he took hold of her hands. “Maddie, you know that’s not true. You know it. I cannot tell you why I was there, but I can assure you that I did not kill Tinker. For one thing, if I had, someone would have noticed me disappearing from the card table long before he was found.”
To his relief, she seemed to see the sense of what he said. Christian wasn’t sure just why he’d panicked at her accusation, but panicked he had. Doubtless it was because he’d come to appreciate her good opinion and he did not wish to lose it. Of course that was it, he assured himself.
“I suppose you’re right,” Maddie said, clearly unaware of the inner battle her companion was fighting with himself. “Though I still don’t believe it a coincidence that you were there last night. Nor do I believe your interest in Linton’s presence there last night is mere curiosity.”
“At least you don’t think me a murderer,” he said with more honesty than he’d intended. “I can live with your suspicion on the other matters, but not that.”
Maddie’s eyes softened as she looked up at him. “I don’t,” she said gently, reaching a hand up to touch him lightly on the cheek.
And all at once Christian became aware that they were alone out on the Marchfords’ terrace.
He wasn’t sure when Maddie had developed charms—the very idea would doubtless make her laugh—but ever since he’d held her in his arms last night, he’d had the devil’s own time trying to erase the memory of just how right she’d felt there. Not to mention the memory of her soft, spicy, floral scent. He’d noticed it immediately when he’d greeted her earlier this evening, as well, but he’d been able to file it away for later perusal. Apparently later was right now, he thought, as he leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers.
* * *
“What are you doing?” she asked against his mouth, more from surprise than anything else.
She felt him smile against her mouth. “I’m trying to kiss you,” he said. “Now stop talking and kiss me back.”
If any other man had said such a thing to her, Maddie would have kicked him in that vulnerable place her brother had told her about. But to her surprise, she found Christian’s masterful words arousing. So, she did what he asked, and kissed him back.
As if she were a priceless work of art, he cupped her face gently in his hands, letting his mouth make all the demands. Opening his mouth over hers, his tongue traced the outline of her lips, and Maddie, reading his silent query aright, opened her lips and invited him in. Stroke by stroke, he took possession of her mouth, until gingerly Maddie accepted his challenge and slid her tongue against his. Each time they touched, the fire between them burned hotter until Maddie was no longer able to tell which of them was in control.
She wasn’t quite sure how it had happened, but what had begun as rather sweet and gentle turned hot and passionate. His body seemed to grow stronger, harder against hers, and his hands slipped down to wander over her back, her sides, even as her own grew impatient with the cloth that separated them from skin-on-skin contact. As she grew bolder, and allowed her hands to wander from his back to snake up the front of him, she felt Gresham groan into her mouth, the vibration reverberating through her in pleasurable pain.
“Madeline,” he said aganst her chin, his mouth tracing a path down her neck and toward the exposed flesh of her bosom. “God, you have bewitched me.”
Her hands stroking over his shoulders, she felt him tug gently at the sleeve of her gown, exposing her breast to the open air. The sudden coolness was a relief, but the feel of his hot mouth enclosing her nipple was utter bliss. Unable to stop herself, Maddie gasped at the sensation, feeling the pull in her belly and lower.
At her noise, Christian stilled. Then to Maddie’s disappointment, he pulled back with one last reverent kiss for the top of her breast and began setting her gown back to rights. With a disappointed sigh she helped, though every time their hands touched she felt a jolt of sensation.
Her wardrobe returned to normal, Maddie shook her head in disbelief. “Unbelievable.”
“My sentiments exactly,” Christian said, his breathing slowing. “Though I mean it in a good way, of course.”
Maddie’s lips quirked despite the gravity of the situation. “Of course. A most excellent way.”
He caught her eye and they shared a laugh. Christian lifted a hand to stroke her cheek, which to her embarrassment brought Maddie to blush. “I suggest we return to
the ballroom at once before we are missed. I think we were lucky enough to escape notice until now, but it would be foolish to tempt fate.”
“A good idea,” she agreed. “I suggest that I go inside first, and then you follow in a few minutes.”
Christian nodded, and gestured for her to leave first, which Maddie did, albeit in a daze of astonishment.
Six
Unable to face her cousins’ curiosity upon her return to the ballroom, Maddie instead made a beeline for the ladies’ retiring room. Unfortunately, she encountered someone far worse: Amelia Snowe.
As she was already over the threshold, it was too late for Maddie to leave when she saw the icy beauty. Besides, she didn’t wish to give Amelia the satisfaction of knowing her presence had rattled her.
“Why, look who it is,” Amelia said from her usual position—before the looking glass, “it’s Lady Madeline Essex, who was so unfortunate as to be caught in a gaming hell this week.”
“Do tell us, Lady Madeline,” she said, turning with what Maddie could only assume was great reluctance from her own visage to cast her gaze upon the other girl. “Was it worth ruining your reputation, this escapade of yours? For I doubt any gentleman of true social standing will look twice at you now.”
Her constant companion, Lady Felicia Downes, tittered at her friend’s words. “I do not think they would have done so before the gaming hell incident, Amelia. No offense meant, of course, Lady Madeline. But you know how unpopular you are with the gentlemen.”
Since she knew good and well that her reputation was bruised rather than broken, Maddie knew better than to let them draw her into their discussion. She also knew better than to believe Lady Felicia’s backhanded apology. Instead, she didn’t speak at all, simply moved before an empty mirror and assessed her hair for disarray. If Amelia and Felicia but knew how she’d just spent the last quarter hour they would have real ammunition to use against her. But Maddie trusted Gresham implicitly on that score, so she knew they would never know about the interlude on the terrace.
“Cat got your tongue?” Amelia asked coolly, though Maddie could tell from the twitch in her nemesis’s cheek that she was annoyed by Maddie’s refusal to engage with her. “I would think that someone with a brother on the brink of ruin and two cousins who were forced to marry in haste would take every opportunity to prove her own innocence.”
“How are your dear cousins, Lady Madeline?” Felicia slipped closer to Maddie, the proximity making her uncomfortable. Felicia had been a bully as long as Maddie could remember, often resorting to pinching and other underhanded bits of violence to exert her authority. Now that they were adults she could hardly inflict physical pain, but she knew as well as anyone just how discomfiting an invasion to one’s personal space could be. “I vow I was never more shocked when we learned the true extent of your cousin Juliet’s infirmity,” she said. “It’s a wonder poor Deveril didn’t apply for an annulment as soon as he learned of it.”
“Then, of course,” Amelia said, picking up her henchwoman’s thread of discussion, “there is Cecily. I suppose she must have been quite overset to learn just how … close her mother had been to Lord Geoffrey Brighton. It’s such a shame that he went mad like that. You don’t suppose it runs in the family, do you?”
The rumors about Juliet’s injury, and the speculation over Cecily’s parentage had circulated through the ton for weeks now, and were laughable to those who knew her cousins. But even so, Amelia and Felicia were just the sort of gossipmongers who had kept the talk going. Her cousins were now happily wed and the rumors were given less credence every day, but even so there were still some people who could not let the gossip die.
“Still she is silent,” Amelia continued. “I cannot warrant it, Felicia. I was given to believe that Lady Madeline was the least able to contain her temper of all three cousins. I guess the talk is wrong. Or Lady Madeline is a coward.”
Maddie might be able to endure her fair share of derision, she might even be able to listen to Amelia mocking her. But she drew the line at being called a coward. If they were men, she would have been fully within her rights to challenge Amelia to a duel. Unable to demand satisfaction on the field, she would instead make her displeasure known to her enemy.
“Amelia,” she said, shaking her head sadly, “you really must stop every once in a while to remove your foot from your mouth. I’m sure my cousins did not see fit to inform you of their situations, marital or otherwise. And it is hardly genteel for you to mention what is no more than rumor. But I suppose blood will out.”
She felt a bit of conscience at alluding to Amelia’s less than elevated parentage, but sometimes one had to fight fire with fire.
“Hmmph,” was Amelia’s only response. Then, “I don’t know why you have to be rude. If I hear about certain things through the kindness of strangers, that’s my affair.”
“Well, when you use your knowledge to threaten harm against me and my cousins I believe my behavior falls less into the category of rudeness and more into the category of self-preservation.”
Shaking her head with annoyance at Maddie’s refusal to be led into an argument, Amelia tugged her friend’s arm. “Come, Felicia, we have gentlemen waiting for us.”
“Enjoy the dancing!” Maddie called after them, feeling an extreme sense of relief at being left, finally, blissfully, alone.
She really did resent Amelia and Felicia’s hold over the ton. Not only because they so often used their social status for mischeif, but also because they frequently got the facts wrong. So they were not only spreading gossip, but incorrect gossip at that.
Still, those were the least of her worries. Word of her visit to the gaming hell had spread through the ton as quickly as a head cold. But to her relief, most didn’t see her behavior as all that shocking. Married women went to gaming hells all the time, and at a time when every dowager engaged in some form of gambling, a visit to what was essentially a weekly card party was not seen to be all that scandalous. The unfortunate circumstance of Mr. Tinker’s death was the only element of the tale that gave people pause, and even then the reaction was less censorious than sympathetic.
Shaking her head at herself in the mirror, Maddie tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, straightened her bodice, and stepped out into the hallway. As she made her way back toward the ballroom, she was startled to hear a familiar voice coming from an antechamber off the hallway. What on earth was Linton doing here?
“You’d better get your story straight before you start telling tales,” she heard her brother say from the little room.
Maddie was grateful that he was no longer missing, but from the sound of things, he was embroiled in something else untoward. She couldn’t quite understand what her brother’s companion was saying, but judging from his growl, it wasn’t good.
“Who the devil would do this?” Linton demanded, his voice cold. Determined to learn just who he was speaking to, Maddie pushed softly on the heavy wood door of the room in question. Linton faced the door, while his companion stood with his back to the door. There was something about the cut of the man’s coat and his hairstyle that seemed familiar. But even so she was unable to tell who he was.
“Someone with a damned grudge,” the man said, his voice still too low for Maddie to recognize, “who thinks they know what really happened. Someone who makes good on their threats. Just as I will if you don’t get me the funds soon.”
When Linton’s eyes met hers, Maddie inhaled sharply. Especially when she saw the set of his jaw. Clearly he was not pleased to see her. Or to know she’d overheard his conversation.
Before she could speak up one way or the other, the man facing her brother walked toward the fireplace in the small chamber and to Maddie’s astonishment seemed to vanish into thin air. Which was not possible, she told herself. It must have been an illusion of some sort.
“Maddie, what are you doing here?” Linton demanded as she stepped into the room. “This doesn’t concern you.”
�
�Maybe not,” she agreed, “but you concern me. Especially when someone goes so far as to threaten you.” Now that she was closer she saw that the fireplace pulled out, leading into a corridor beyond. Whoever had threatened Linton knew this house.
“Thank you for the concern,” Linton said cynically, “but I am perfectly able to look after myself. I would just as well not have you getting involved in my business. Especially given the scold I received this morning from Papa regarding your escapade to Mrs. Bailey’s the other night.”
Maddie stiffened. “I find your chastisement to be completely ludicrous considering how you abandoned me to make my own way home that night. Not to mention the fact that you left me there to deal with the death of a man whom I thought you considered a friend.”
To his credit, Linton looked abashed. Thrusting his hands into his hair, he said, “It was badly done of me, I know, Maddie. But you must believe that I didn’t mean to leave you there without escort. It’s just that when I saw Tinker there like that…” His eyes took on a look of desperation that Maddie had never seen in them before. “It was like Fielding all over again, you see.”
His clenched jaw told Maddie that it had taken a great deal for her brother to admit such a thing to her.
Gathering him close to her in a hug, she said, “I’m sorry, dearest. It never occurred to me that Tinker’s death would remind you of Fielding’s. But it makes perfect sense. So you saw him there in the corridor before I found his body?”
Putting her away from him, Linton mopped his forehead with a handkerchief and nodded. “It was not the same situation at all of course. And I had no role in Tinker’s death. But when I found him with a knife sticking out of his chest, I had to get out of there. I had no choice in the matter, Mads. I had to leave.”
Remembering how distraught her brother had been when his dearest friend, Lord Fielding, died, she nodded. His response to Tinker’s death made perfect sense now. Even so there was the matter of the tête-à-tête she’d just interrupted.
How to Entice an Earl Page 7