Deceived & Honoured--The Baron's Vexing Wife (#7 Love's Second Chance Series)

by Bree Wolf

  Cursing under her breath, knowing she could not refuse a challenge, Madeline lifted her chin another notch and met her husband’s eyes. “As I’ve said,” she began, her voice far from steady, “men have always sought to catch me alone to compromise me.” His features hardened at the direction of her words. Yet, Madeline continued undeterred, knowing that she would not be able to face herself in the mirror if she were to back down now. “Therefore, I thought it wise not to allow any…intimacies until I could be assured of a gentleman’s intentions as well as my own.” Drawing in another deep breath, Madeline felt her own fingernails dig into the palms of her hands. “I’ve never…” She swallowed, cursing her hammering heart. “What I mean to say is that there has never been an opportunity to…” His right eyebrow rose in question as he watched her intently, and for a moment, Madeline felt as though she would not be able to hold his gaze. “That night at Lord Kingsley’s ball, I had hoped that Lord Townsend would…”

  “Propose?” he bit out.

  “That, too.”

  A frown drew down his brows as he took a step closer, his dark gaze holding her pinned to the spot.

  “K-kiss me,” Madeline stammered, disgusted with her jittering nerves and her inability to hide her inner turmoil.

  A low growl escaped from her husband’s throat, and for a moment, she thought he would lash out at her.

  However, he remained quiet.

  “Since that is no longer an option,” Madeline finally continued, knowing that abandoning her request now would only make her look like a fool…and a weakling, “I would have you…kiss me.”

  For a moment, his eyes widened in honest surprise, and Madeline could not help but wonder why. Was it truly so unusual for a wife to ask her husband for a kiss?

  As she tried her best to wait patiently for his answer, she noticed his face darken. A sinister glare came to his eyes, and his lips pressed into a hard line. “I cannot,” he finally said, then once more turned to go.

  Instantly, mortification warmed her cheeks. What husband would refuse his wife? “You promised,” she reminded him, wishing she had never asked. “You said if it was within your power, you would grant me my request.”

  Once more, he turned to face her, and she could see that his jaw was clenched as though he had to force himself to remain where he was. A storm battled behind his dark gaze as he watched her, and Madeline wished she knew what he saw when he looked at her.

  “This is within your power,” she prompted when he failed to reply. “Is it not?”

  He inhaled deeply, and for a moment, his gaze drifted to her lips.

  “One kiss is all I ask,” she whispered almost breathlessly as her heart hammered in her chest. “I just…I want to know what it feels like.”

  His gaze softened, and for once, Madeline did not care that her voice revealed her inner doubts and insecurities. For once, she did not want to put on a brave face and hide how she truly felt. For once, she simply wanted him to see her true self.

  “I don’t want to be left wondering for the rest of my life,” she whispered with her heart on her tongue. “Please.”

  Her husband inhaled slowly as though needing to gather his courage as well before he approached her, his gaze once more holding hers. “Are you certain that this is what you want?”

  Madeline nodded as she watched him close the distance between them. “It is.”

  Reaching out, he slipped his arm around her, his hand gently brushing over her lower back as he pulled her closer. His gaze never wavered from hers as though watching for any sign of doubt or reluctance. “One kiss,” he whispered, his gaze transfixed as it drifted from hers…and lower.

  “One kiss,” Madeline confirmed in a gasp, feeling suddenly lightheaded, as her breathing quickened with each heartbeat that passed.

  His left hand grabbed hold of her chin once more. Gently this time, like the touch of a feather.

  Unable to bear his gaze on her any longer, Madeline closed her eyes.

  Slowly, she felt him lean closer, felt his warm breath on her skin, the warmth of his body reaching out to her. And then his lips brushed over hers ever so slightly as though she had only imagined their touch.

  Before she even had the chance to enjoy the feel of his warm lips pressed to hers, she could already sense him pulling away from her. Determined not to allow him to slip away, Madeline curled her fingers into the front of his shirt, holding him in place.

  For a split second, he seemed to hesitate, his mouth still as it rested against hers. However, in the next moment, his arm tightened on her possessively and his left hand slipped from her chin to cup the side of her face before coming to rest on the back of her neck. Holding her head in place, he seemed to come alive.

  Passion flared up in Madeline’s veins as her husband’s lips began to move over hers.

  Gently at first.

  Cautiously.

  Almost respectfully.

  Annoyed with his restraint, Madeline kissed him back, tried to mould her lips to his the way he had. Both her hands curled into his shirt before sliding upward and coming around his neck until their bodies were pressed to one another with no distance left between them.

  In answer, her husband grew bolder, and he deepened the kiss in a way that made Madeline gasp. His lips touched hers with the same passion she had seen in his gaze earlier, and she wondered how she could have waited this long to feel it. Had she known, she would have allowed herself to be trapped into marriage long ago.

  A low growl rose from her husband’s throat, and something darker, almost enraged seemed to fuel his touch. His lips were demanding on hers as though she had once again angered him, and this was his way of lashing out at her.

  Then he pulled back abruptly, his jaw clenched as he stared at her with dark eyes. Removing her arms from around his neck, he stepped back. “One kiss,” he repeated, his voice hard, almost detached.

  Rejection once more assaulted Madeline’s body, and she almost cringed under the abhorrence in his gaze while her lips continued to hum with the latent tingles his touch had awakened.

  “Tomorrow I shall travel to Huntington House,” he reminded her, his voice harsher than she had ever known it. “Should you wish to remain in Town or travel to your father’s estate at the end of the season, feel free to do so.” He swallowed, the tension in his shoulders near breaking. “I assure you I shall not force my company on you, should you prefer that of…Lord Townsend.” As he spoke the man’s name, his voice was dripping with disgust in such a way that it sent a shiver down Madeline’s back. “If you insist,” he continued, his dark gaze intense as it held hers, “our marriage need only exist on paper. You have my blessing should you wish to act as though you’re still a woman free to make her own choice.” He almost seemed to cringe as the words left his mouth, and yet, he remained almost immobile.

  Staring at her husband, Madeline tried to make sense of what he had said. He could not truly mean…? Could he? He could not possibly grant her permission to…?

  Shaking her head, Madeline cleared her throat, her gaze searching his face, trying to understand the conditions of her marriage he had just put forth. Did he truly not want her? Did he not mind if she…? “What are you saying?” she demanded as the fire in her veins turned to ice.

  “I believe I’ve made myself clear.”

  Madeline drew in a deep breath to keep the outrage at bay that once more bubbled up. “Are you truly saying that you would not object if I were to…to become better…acquainted with Lord Townsend?”

  The muscles in his jaw bulged, and for a moment, she thought he would attack her so dark was his countenance. “You are mistaken,” he growled, his hands balled into fists at his sides. “I would object. However, I will not stand in your way should you decide to do so.” And with that, he turned and marched out of her bedchamber, slamming the door shut behind him.

  Too stunned to move, Madeline was still staring after her husband minutes after he had stormed out of her chamber. Had she truly
understood him correctly? What kind of a husband would give his wife leave to have an affair? That was unheard of! Did he wish to rid himself of her so desperately? Was it a trick? Why? Had he not been the one to bring about their marriage?

  As the thoughts spun in her head, Madeline sank down onto the feathery mattress of her bed, her legs all but useless as they trembled with the shock of what she had just learnt. And yet, her lips still tingled with the memory of her husband’s kiss, wishing he would return and kiss her again.

  Apparently, she had been wrong.

  Very wrong indeed.

  One kiss was hardly enough.

  More were needed.

  Wanted.

  Desired.

  For some odd, quite inexplicable reason, Madeline had to admit−at least to herself−that her new husband affected her deeply. Although he did not meet her expectations for a husband, there was something about him that appealed to her.

  Drew her near.

  Tempted her.

  Strangely enough, there were moments when she could swear that he truly looked at her, and here and there, for a short instant, it had been as though he had truly seen her.

  The Madeline hiding behind the mask.

  The insecure, young woman.

  It was deeply unsettling.

  Especially since he did not seem to want her in any other capacity than as his wife…on paper. Nothing more.

  Swallowing, Madeline wiped away the lone tear that had escaped her tight control. If he did not want her, she would simply have to make do without him. After all, had he not just given her leave to conduct herself as a free woman?

  Well then, if she was indeed free to choose, what was it that she wanted?

  Or rather, whom?

  Chapter Seven − To Set Free

  “Are you certain this is a good idea?” Tristan asked, eyeing Derek with a critical brow, the tone of his voice clearly suggesting that he disagreed.

  “I never said it was,” Derek grumbled as he set down the bag packed with his few belongings by the front door. “It is merely the lesser of two evils.”

  Shaking his head, Tristan rolled his eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic! She’s your wife. Why do you refuse her company?”

  Unwilling to discuss his marital state, Derek squared his shoulders and met his friend’s questioning gaze without flinching. “You are one to ask,” he chided, hoping it would redirect his friend’s attention. “After all, was it not you who did the same thing, trying to avoid your wife’s company whenever possible?”

  Tristan grinned. “Don’t try to change the subject. Yes, I did, and, yes, it was the worst idea I’ve ever had. I should never have tried, and it did neither her nor me any good. I could have saved myself a lot of trouble and heartache if I’d simply had the courage to admit to myself how I truly felt about her.” Taking a step closer, his friend’s gaze seemed to drill into Derek’s, his blue eyes full of meaning. “Don’t make the same mistake,” he counselled, placing a hand on Derek’s shoulder. “I know that you care about her. As good as you are at hiding how you truly feel−even from yourself−love is too strong to be ignored. It will make itself known, and no matter how far you run, you won’t be able to free yourself of it. Believe me.”

  Inhaling a deep breath, Derek nodded, seeing the truth of Tristan’s words on his friend’s face. But did he love her? How could he? He barely knew her, and yet, there was something about her…something he could not quite name…something that made her different…something…

  However, it did not matter, did it?

  “My situation differs in one key aspect from yours,” Derek finally said, determinedly ignoring the touch of regret that came to his heart as he spoke. “She does not care for me.” Instantly, his friend’s mouth opened to object, but Derek lifted a hand to stop him. “Quite the opposite. She hates me for ruining her future, her life.”

  “How do you know?”

  “She all but said so last night,” Derek admitted, a sense of failure washing over him. “She said she was now trapped in marriage to the wrong man.”

  Tristan’s brows drew down as his gaze narrowed in suspicion. “Townsend?”

  Gritting his teeth, Derek nodded.

  “She does not know who he truly is,” Tristan counselled, his gaze imploring. “Remember that she does not know what he did.”

  Derek inhaled deeply. “I cannot help but wonder if it would change her opinion of him if she did know.” Lifting his gaze, he met Tristan’s eyes. “She does not know Townsend, but neither do I know her.”

  “Then get to know her!” Tristan insisted, vehemence and a touch of exasperation in his voice. “Which will be more difficult if you are in the country, and she is here. Take her along. Spend some time with her.”

  Derek shook his head. “I cannot. After everything I’ve already done wrong, I do believe that would be the biggest mistake I could make.”

  Frowning at him, Tristan held his gaze, a question in his blue eyes.

  Derek sighed. “My mother always said that only those who can leave will ever be able to choose to stay.” Remembering the morning, he had left his family to join the army, Derek felt a smile tug up the corner of his mouth. Years had passed since that morning, and yet, he could remember it so clearly as though it had happened the day before. That decision−his decision! −had changed his life. For better and for worse.

  But it had been his. Not his mother’s.

  Despite her own reluctance, despite her fear that he would not return, she had let him go.

  Only now did Derek understand how strong she had been then.

  “I’ve always made my own decisions,” Derek said, relieved to see a spark of understanding in his friend’s gaze. “As I did that night at the ball. Only this time, my decision took away hers, and she has every right to hate me for it.”

  “Maybe all she needs is time,” Tristan suggested. “Yes, if you put it like that, she’s suffered a loss. However, after a while, her anger will subside, and she will be able to see what happened with different eyes.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “And yet, you have hope,” Tristan insisted, an annoyingly delighted smile drawing up the corners of his mouth as his quick eyes searched Derek’s face. “Although you may not admit it to yourself, you hope that if you let her go, she will choose to stay with you.”

  Derek swallowed, remembering only too well the shock on his wife’s face as he had all but told her to have an affair with the man he despised like no other. Had he been mad? What if she…? Gritting his teeth, he shook his head, unwilling to picture his wife in the arms of another man…any man…let alone that man. And yet, if he had not, would she feel trapped for the rest of her life? Bound to him by circumstance? Not by choice?

  …out of my own free will…

  Her words echoed in his mind, tormenting him. No, she had not chosen him. Out of her own free will, she would have chosen Townsend…and he was certain it would not have ended well for her. But it would have been her choice. For better or for worse.

  Just like his sister.

  She had made her own choices.

  And they had cost her dearly.

  And yet, he still had hope that she would find happiness again someday.

  “I’m not certain what I’m hoping for at this point,” Derek said as he stepped back and picked up his bag. “All I know is that I need to return home and see to my family. That is all that matters now.”

  Tristan nodded, his face sober once again. “I understand, and I’m happy for you.” He stepped forward then and grasped Derek’s shoulders, strong emotions lighting up his blue eyes. “Thank you, my friend, for everything you’ve done, for watching over me all those years at the expense of your own life and happiness. I will not forget it.”

  Uncomfortable with his friend’s words of praise, Derek merely nodded. “I only did what was right as did you when you helped my sister that night when she needed someone, and I wasn’t there. You did not know her or me, and yet, you did not h
esitate to help…and you did not ask for anything in return. Those are the true marks of a gentleman, are they not?”

  Tristan grinned as a touch of red rose to his cheeks. “Is it selflessness you speak of? To take care of others before thinking of yourself? Is that not exactly what you’re doing right now? Allowing your wife to choose?”

  Drawing in a deep breath, Derek stepped back and turned to the door. “Believe me, I’m not being selfless at all,” he said, striding toward the grand double-door entrance.

  “Because you’re hoping for something in return?” Tristan asked from behind him.

  Stopping in his tracks, Derek turned his head to look at his friend. Then he sighed and nodded. “I fear I cannot help it.”

  “I don’t think it’s wrong to hope for your wife’s affections,” Tristan stated, his gaze serious as he shook his head. “As long as you don’t forget to reveal your own.”

  Derek nodded, uncertain if he would ever be able to do so, and yet, had he not all but confessed to her last night that he had wanted her from the moment he had first seen her? Turning his head, Derek glanced up the winding staircase to the upper floor where his wife was still in her bedchamber, asleep.

  “I promise I shall look after her,” Tristan promised solemnly. “No harm shall come to her.”

  Derek nodded. “Thank you.” For a moment, he hesitated and the muscles in his jaw clenched as he opened his mouth once more. “But do not…interfere with her choices.”

  Tristan drew in a slow breath as his gaze held Derek’s, needing to make certain he understood his friend’s meaning. “If that is what you wish.”

  Hardly, Derek thought, but it is what I must do!

  “Were you not going to say goodbye?” a female voice chided from the landing of the large staircase, and for a split second, Derek’s heart felt as though it would jump out of his chest. However, then he realised that his ears had deceived him, and that it was not his wife standing there, but Tristan’s.

  A teasing smile drew up Beth’s lips as she came toward him. “You thought I was she,” she observed with her shrewd ability to read other people’s thoughts. “You wanted it to be her.”