The No Good Irresistible Viscount Tipton

by Barbara Pierce

  She flinched at the question, but she stood her ground. “What would you have me say, sir? I am young, poor, and female. You hold the advantage.” She turned to head for her maze.

  “I have not dismissed you, girl!”

  Madeleina glanced back. “Yes, you have, my lord. The moment you knew of my existence.” With that parting shot she ran, losing herself in her maze.

  * * *

  Rayne had managed to get Jocelyn to join them for supper. He would not tell Devona he had used threats to gain her cooperation. His lady wife did not appreciate his technique for handling his family. That was obvious from the way she had protected his sister. You would have thought the girl was her own, the way she had hovered protectively around her. No, gaining his demands without upsetting Devona would take cunning.

  “What did you say to Madeleina? She refused to take supper at the table again,” his mother asked, the first words she had bothered to utter since their private discussion.

  “Perhaps she is ill?”

  Rayne gave his wife a wry grin. He assumed she considered him the weaker opponent of this battle, or maybe she disliked his mother as much as he. Either way, he appreciated Devona’s attempts to distract the dowager from her quarry.

  His mother sniffed, dismissing the question. “My daughter is never ill. Despite her penchant for living outdoors, I have managed to persuade her over the years to attend me at the table.” Her faded brow lifted inquiringly at him.

  “It appears your lessons have not taken, madam.” He would be damned if he allowed her to manipulate the girl’s absence as his fault. “Like all animals, I am certain when she is hungry she will leave her cover to feed.”

  Outrage mottled Jocelyn’s face. He waited, half-expecting lava to drip from her ears after the eruption.

  “Madeleina is a lovely, sweet child. How dare you? She is no animal!”

  “I do not think—,” Devona began, but was cut off with a look.

  “I do not care if you do or do not think, madam!” the dowager seethed.

  “Silence!” Rayne slammed his fist on the table, the rattle of plates and silver echoing his annoyance. “My wife is off-limits, Jocelyn. You need to chew on something, I am certain Cook can serve you a satisfying bone. Or choose me, if you like.” The smile he gave her was voracious.

  “Since we are drawing battle lines, then I insist that your sister be left alone. You have managed thus far to ignore her existence. I wish you would continue to do so.”

  “Concern, Mother?” he mocked. “I never suspected there was this maternal side to you.”

  The dowager did not bother to respond to the barb. Instead, she held his gaze and distinctly said, “Madeleina is not like you or I. If anything, she takes after your grandmother.”

  The comparison made him feel uncomfortable, so he rejected it. He credited his grandmother for anything soft inside him. To consider his sister in the same manner meant that his treatment of her was as cruel as their mother’s of him. Defensive, he struck out, “How do you expect any man to take her off your hands? You have allowed her to work outdoors like a common field laborer. Her skin is as dark as a woman from Calcutta and she had dirt under her fingernails. Has she had any schooling or has she spent her entire life scampering outdoors learning her lessons from the deer and hares?”

  Devona burst out laughing, the tone a little on the high and nervous side. “Really, Tipton. You almost made me choke on my pheasant. I know you two derive great pleasure from needling each other, but I spoke to Madeleina. She seemed an intelligent, thoughtful child who has worked magic on the grounds. That maze of hers is spectacular. I can only imagine what she could do if she had some gardeners to help her maintain it. I doubt she could help the dirt under her nails or the tanning of her skin under the circumstances. She is truly an artist. Her canvas is outside, for heaven’s sake!”

  He almost smiled at the expression on his mother’s face. She appeared torn between the desire to tear into him and the unfamiliar feeling of gratitude toward a woman she was determined to hate. After all, the bold chit had dared to marry her outcast son.

  “Your sister has been tutored by me. If you find her education unsatisfactory then you must accept the blame.”

  “Amazing,” he marveled. “I cannot wait to see how you will pin her ignorance on me.”

  His mother took a contemplative sip of her wine. “If you recall, my last trip to London was to gain funds to send Madeleina to a school for ladies.” She sent a glance toward Devona. “I am certain your wife understands that a polish is needed before she is presented at Court.”

  Rayne had to admire Jocelyn’s clever presentation. He had not even seen it coming. Days ago, he had warned Devona that his mother would size up her enemy before she attacked. His softhearted wife was now being used as a weapon against him. He could just hear his mother’s quiet taunts. How could you abandon your poor innocent sister? If she acts like a hoyden, who is to blame? Had I not begged you to assist in her care?

  The dowager had assessed Devona’s weaknesses and figured that she was the perfect tool for manipulating Jocelyn’s son.

  Devona twisted her fork, toying with the meat on her plate. What he could only conclude was fear tightened his gut at her next words.

  “Tipton, perhaps we should pack up Madeleina and bring her to London. If her schooling is amiss, we could find her a tutor. My sisters and I would be willing to instruct her on the gentler arts.”

  “No!”

  Whatever Jocelyn had expected from Devona, this was not it. In her artless manner, his beautiful wife had caused another good plan to go awry.

  “My daughter remains at Foxenclover. It is her home. If you are willing to provide her the funds for schooling and a respectable wardrobe, I am certain we can weather her transformation from child to woman without anyone’s assistance.” The dowager focused on Devona during the latter part of her statement.

  “No one would dispute that Madeleina is a remarkable child,” Devona said, trying to soothe Jocelyn. “I only suggested London because I thought the change would be stimulating to her creativity. Think of the museums, the concerts, and all the other amusements—”

  Rayne closed off Devona’s arguments from his mind. He knew from experience that there was little one could do to alter Jocelyn’s decisions. That did not mean she could not be bullied and her authority stripped until she was just a whining nuisance in his ear. His first inclination was to tell his mother that his cooperation with this endeavor was as likely as Devlin’s resurrection from his fifteen-year-old moldering grave.

  He stroked the edge of his dinner plate. A quick and ruthless execution of power was usually his preferred choice. His gaze caught the movement of his wife’s fragile hand as she emphasized her point with a dancing movement of her fingers. The edge of his mouth lifted into a small smile. He must be smitten if watching her hands flutter, graceful as a butterfly’s wings as they matched the chatter of her pouting mouth, made his heart ache. She noticed his attention and sent him a rallying smile before she plunged back into the discussion of bringing the insolent Madeleina to London.

  He did not want his sister in his home and, more to the point, in his daily life. It had been so easy to forget her existence while she ripened and finally rotted her life away at Foxenclover. If Devona had her way, the chit was going to be glaring at him from across the table every morning.

  Damn. Perhaps he should allow his mother to win this battle and settle her with a proper allowance so he could retain a peaceful household. Besides, he had already set into motion his plan to bring another unwilling guest to his house. There was no doubt in his mind that Brogden would not eagerly embrace his invitation.

  And yet … for him and Jocelyn to quietly agree on a subject was unacceptable. Sometimes throwing your money at a problem to make it go away was not the thing to do. It made life easier, true, but there was no satisfaction. Unfortunately, the only method of unbalancing his mother would entail him having to endure a pena
lty as well. However, he doubted Devona would see his side of it.

  “I think my wife is correct. Your daughter will be traveling with us to London.”

  Devona clasped her hands together, pleased someone had agreed with her arguments. “Thank you, my lord. I knew you were a man who would bend to sound judgment.”

  He promised himself that she would never learn that he had come to this decision for less noble reasons. Nor had he listened to a single word she had said.

  “My brief glimpses of the child have led me to conclude that civilization has been sorely lacking in her upbringing. I look forward to instructing her myself.”

  “You make her sound as though she were some sort of animal viewing the menagerie from the wrong side of the cage,” Devona muttered, not bothering to disguise her disapproval of the vein of his intention.

  His mother’s glare was no more encouraging. “You will not take my daughter from me, Tipton.”

  Rayne indulged himself by giving her a very arrogant grin. “I just did, madam.”

  * * *

  “I shall simply kill myself. Then your husband will have to find another means of exacting his revenge on our mother.” Maddy seized the dresses Devona had just offered to pack and sent them flying in all directions. “You cannot make me go with you!”

  She spun wildly, a circle within the curved walls of her room. The three-story turret addition had been built over seventy-five years ago, a whimsy of one of the Lady Tiptons. Maddy had chosen this room for herself when she was six. She had painted the walls a blue to mimic a cloudless summer day and over the years had added to it the encroaching garden that threatened to devour the blue.

  Devona patiently bent down to retrieve the trampled dresses. “No one is kidnapping you, Madeleina. If you like, we could call this an adventure. When did you visit London last?”

  Never. Though she loathed admitting that fact. As long as Tipton resided in London, then Mama would have never risked a confrontation. Indeed, Mama could bluster as fierce as the dragon Maddy had created for the maze, but the truth was evident. Jocelyn was frightened of her son. How many times had she called him a monster? From what Maddy had seen of her older brother, she was inclined to agree.

  Pretending not to watch, she followed Devona’s movements as she lightly touched the different painted flowers on Maddy’s wall.

  “This yellow was used for your dragon’s eyes. What is it?”

  As if she could not recognize it. “Sedum acre.” Maddy sighed at the blank look she received. “Wall pepper.”

  “Ah,” Devona said, moving to another flower. “And this?”

  “Malva sylvestris or common mallow.” Seeing through the ploy as an attempt to distract her, Maddy walked over and took the dresses from the viscountess’s arms. “And that is Dianthus casius, but I’m certain you know that. After all, I am such the village idiot that I need to go to town to learn all about civil-i-za-tion.”

  Devona chuckled at the way Maddy had pronounced the last word and gave her a rueful glance. “You heard that, huh?”

  In this household it paid to blend into the walls and listen to the conversations that excluded her. “Your husband has always made himself heard even in his years of absence.”

  “Maybe Tipton has finally come to do his duty by you.” She pointed to a spiked-leaved plant with small white flowers. “And this?”

  “Don’t you know anything about plants? Ilex aquifolium or holly.” Maddy tossed the dresses on her bed and sat on them.

  “Not as much as you apparently do. Who taught you?”

  She shrugged. “Books mostly. Our neighbor on the western boundary, Mr. Hawkpit, has helped me over the years with cuttings.” He and Mama had been carrying on a torrid affair for years, not that she was supposed to know. Sadly, she had not seen much of the man lately. She had overheard Cook tell Mrs. Poole that when Mrs. Hawkpit had learned of the affair she had threatened to split Mr. Hawkpit’s adulterous staff in two so there would be enough of him to go around. Maddy snickered, understanding that when the women had spoken of Mr. Hawkpit’s staff they weren’t referring to the hired help.

  Maddy cast a sly look in Devona’s direction. She decided to keep that bit of gossip to herself. Auburn Hawkpit had always been kind to her, a substitute father. The least she could do if he could not have Mama was protect him from Tipton. She shuddered, imagining what her brother would do to him just to add to their mother’s misery.

  “How long will you keep me from Mama?”

  “Goodness, Madeleina, you make it sound like this is a punishment!”

  Oh, it was, but she was quick enough to know who was the pawn in her brother’s little game. Devona was so different from Tipton. She was friendly, her emotions displayed so plainly on her face that Maddy suspected the young woman did not have a dishonest inclination. How in the world did she end up with the monster? “I have never been away from home. At least, not like this.”

  The viscountess drew her into her arms and gave her a reassuring hug. “You have nothing to fear from us, my sweet. All we expect you to do is to have fun.”

  “And become civilized,” Maddy mumbled against the fabric of Devona’s sleeve.

  She drew back, laughing. “It will be a long time before you’ll forgive Rayne those thoughtless words, am I correct?” She smoothed the wild wisps of hair from Maddy’s face.

  Her sober expression did not reveal the terror she felt at being left in the hands of her fiendish brother. He would kill her, just like he had killed his older brother. “I suspect my brother is very thoughtful in all things.”

  * * *

  It was almost dawn when Jocelyn discovered her daughter’s empty bed. Her first fear was that the girl had run away. Madeleina, despite Tipton’s concerns, was a sensible creature. Running away would only delay the inevitable.

  Taking up a lantern, Jocelyn began her silent search of the gardens. There was no point alerting the staff. She would find her daughter on her own. The ground was slick and the heavy odor of wet vegetation made her nose itch. Jocelyn had never understood her daughter’s fascination with the outdoors. She herself preferred the comforts that her favorite rooms provided: well-worn leather tomes, the clink of a china teacup, and the feel of a handmade rug from India. These were items she understood and appreciated. The one child who was hers was long dead, and the two who lived she did not understand.

  Ah, the maze. Jocelyn clutched her dressing gown tighter with one hand as she worked her way through the maze. Madeleina thought her mama was not intelligent enough to figure out her clever child. Well, she would be surprised to learn this was not the first time Jocelyn had wandered into her daughter’s fantasy world.

  “Madeleina!” she called out.

  There was a rustle, then a wary, “Mama?”

  “Who else would be playing in your maze at this time of the morning?”

  It took another turn to the left and another two turns to the right before she entered the center of the maze. Maddy had had the sense to bring several blankets and a lantern for her outdoor slumber.

  “Mama. You never rise this early.”

  “You were not in your bed.”

  Maddy pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on the small table her arms formed. “I wanted to say good-bye to the maze before I left. Unless you have changed your mind about permitting me to go.”

  The hopefulness shining in her eyes made Jocelyn feel ashamed that she did not have a stronger position from which to fight Tipton. “No, you will be departing as commanded.” Commanded. The notion stuck in her throat so much that she thought she would perish from it.

  “What if I ran away? Maybe Mr. Hawkpit could shelter me until they gave up and—”

  “No.” She softened her voice. “You have been denied so much because of who you are.” And for that she would never forgive Tipton.

  “You make it sound as if he has starved us. We may not be the richest family in the parish, or current on the latest fashions, but we have
done well without him playing the bountiful protector.”

  Jocelyn closed her eyes. Madeleina did not remember her father or the life they had lived before Tipton had taken up his inheritance and begun ruling their lives. They could have been the richest family in the countryside. Madeleina could have hired two dozen gardeners and created an entire house out of trees and flowers if that had been her desire, if it had not been for Tipton and his interference in their lives.

  “You are my daughter, Madeleina,” Jocelyn vowed.

  Confused, the girl gave her a sleepy-eyed blink. “Of course, Mama.”

  She pulled her up and gave her a shake. Startled, Madeleina clung to her, trying to find balance and understanding. “The serpent is taking you to his breast, my child. When you rest your head each night, study him. Learn his weaknesses. I thought it was another—” She stopped before she revealed too much. “Perhaps you will be his downfall.”

  Her eyes shining bright like morning dew, she held her daughter to her breast while dark wishes were murmured into Madeleina’s hair. The dawn broke, streaking purple and red into the night sky. Such beauty. In Jocelyn’s mind it was Tipton’s life’s blood spurting from his black heart.

  FOURTEEN

  The journey from Foxenclover had been uneventful. Their unwilling guest had stared at Tipton as though he were a cross between a cannibal and an unholy creature every time he addressed her. Not that he had made much of an effort to converse with the girl. It made him a bit uneasy to have her around. Lord only knew what tales of horror Jocelyn had filled Madeleina’s silly head with. Despite the tales, Rayne had to grudgingly admit that his sister was not lacking in spirit. She might think he was the devil’s disciple, but she was not averse to poking a stick in his eye.

  “Oh, Maddy, see here.” Devona pointed to the passing town house. “My family resides there. I cannot wait until Wynne and the rest meet you.”

  Somewhere along their journey, Devona had formed a fragile friendship with his sister. Knowing his wife, he realized that the girl had not had much choice. Once Devona set her mind on something, she could overwhelm even the most stubborn. He considered himself an authority on the subject.