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

by Bree Wolf

  Still, her reaction to his impromptu kiss had shown him how much he cared for her.

  He had seen her panic, seen the fluttering of her hands, the rapid beating of the pulse in her neck, the way her breathing hitched and her eyes had almost rolled backwards into their sockets to shut out the truth that came rushing at her.

  And he had acted without thought, only wishing to put her at ease.

  And so, he had kissed her…and she had kissed him back.

  Had it only been out of a desperate need to hold on to something and not be abandoned to the panic that had seized her? Or had it been more? Had her teasing comments afterwards indicated an attachment on her part?

  In that moment, Madeline’s eyelids began to flutter and then flew open. Staring up at him, she remained stock-still for the barest of seconds before a blood-curdling scream escaped her lips and she shot bolt upright. “What are you doing here?” she demanded, panting under her breath, as she clutched the blanket to her chest. “Get out!”

  Drawing in a deep breath, Derek abandoned all tender feelings that had begun to bloom in his heart. “You’re late,” he snapped. “Breakfast is already over.”

  “I couldn’t sleep,” she retorted with equal measure, pulling the blanket up under her chin as though suddenly modest. “This room is far from adequate. The bedclothes are terribly scratchy. It’s cold and…” She glanced around, her arm moving in a sweeping motion over her surroundings. “The general lack of comfort is shocking.”

  Not having expected anything less, Derek grinned, then slowly leaned forward, watching her intently, and rested his hands on the mattress, his face only inches from hers. “Complain all you want,” he said, his voice almost a whisper, “but know that it will not change anything.” She swallowed, and her breathing came more rapidly. “This house is all we have, and if you wish to see it shine again, then you need to get out of bed, get dressed and get to work.”

  Once again, her eyes widened in shock. “Do you truly expect me to do menial work? You cannot be serious!”

  In that moment, Derek could not keep the devilish grin off his face nor could he keep himself from grabbing a fistful of her blanket and yanking it away.

  In answer, his wife screeched and scrambled off the bed. “How dare you?”

  “Why are you here?” Derek demanded, stepping closer, watching her retreat. “Why did you come? To be quite honest, I did not expect to ever see you here.”

  Her eyes flitted around the room before she forced them up and met his. Retreating until her back was against the closed door, she seemed uncertain for a moment, but then raised her chin and stood her ground. “You invited me, remember? In your letter.”

  “That I did,” Derek agreed, barely aware of the fact that his gaze had begun to travel over his wife’s body, taking in the soft blush of her cheeks as well as the loosened knot in the front of her nightgown. If he were to…

  Shaking his head inwardly, Derek swallowed. He truly ought to maintain a certain distance from his wife! Despite their spiteful words, there was something between them, luring them closer, drawing them in.

  “Then why are you surprised?” she demanded, her deepening blush evidence that she was aware of his roaming gaze.

  “Because last we spoke−”

  “On our wedding night?” she interrupted, open accusation in her green eyes.

  “−you made it unmistakably clear,” he continued, ignoring her interruption, “that you did not care for my company but preferred that of another man.” His voice grew harsher as he stepped toward her, boxing her in between his body and the door, an unspoken question hanging between them.

  With unwavering eyes, she held his gaze, her jaw tense as she inhaled. “I will not answer,” she whispered then, her voice determined, “if you do not ask.”

  Derek swallowed, unable to tell if she was merely teasing him or sought to see him suffer. Whatever the reason, for the first time in his life, Derek found himself to be a coward for he could not ask because he did not dare know the truth, afraid of what it might do to him, afraid he would not be strong enough to bear it.

  Instead, he stepped back, and a touch of regret came to her dark green eyes. “I do not care what you do,” he hissed, cursing himself for he knew it to be a lie. “However, if you wish to remain here, you need to do your part for we have no servants here to do it for us.” He noticed her body trembling−if from the cold or his harsh words he could not say−and he wished he could simply pull her into his arms. “Our own hands’ work is all we have,” he continued, reaching for the door handle. “It is a hard way to live, but a proud one.”

  Strangely calm, his wife held his gaze, then stepped to the side and allowed him to open the door. All the while she watched him with those deep green eyes as though seeing something that had eluded her before.

  Slightly unnerved by her scrutiny, Derek took his leave and headed back downstairs. Then he rolled up his sleeves, reached for his tools and rushed outside to meet his tenants.

  If only he knew what to do about his wife. If only he knew why she had come. He would never have expected her to, not unless she had nowhere else to go.

  Derek frowned. Did she?

  ***

  Leaning against the closed door, Madeline slowly drew one breath after another into her lungs as she willed her trembling nerves to calm. Everything her husband said and did was so at odds that she did not know what to think.

  Had he not seemed jealous just then? And yet, he had snapped at her, saying that he did not care.

  Oh, but the look in his eyes…

  The memory sent another shiver down her spine, and Madeline could not help but smile at the delicious feeling it awakened. She ought to have kissed him as he had kissed her the day before. Would he have kissed her back? Madeline wondered. Or would he have pushed her away?

  When Anne finally came and helped her dress, Madeline was no closer to an answer. Her husband steadfastly remained an enigma that she could not seem to solve. However, at the same time, he infuriated her. How dare he demand that she work? After all, she was a lady, a member of the ton. Work? That was preposterous!

  Still, something in the way her husband had looked at her told her that he was indeed serious and would not allow her to refuse his demand. What ought she to do? She could not very well work with her lady’s maid here to see her. That would be beyond shameful! There would have to be another way.

  Instructing her lady’s maid to see to her travelling dress from the day before−it still bore her husband’s dirty hand prints from when he had seized her−Madeline headed downstairs. Although she still felt reluctant to enter the kitchen, her growing hunger overpowered her sense for decorum. Fortunately, the kitchen was almost deserted, except for Bessy.

  Greeting her new mother-in-law, Madeline stepped forward, her eyes gliding over the work bench where remnants of their earlier breakfast remained.

  “Ye must be hungry,” Bessy observed, a kind smile on her wrinkled face. “Come and sit, dear. I’ll fetch ye something.”

  Sinking into one of the chairs, Madeline sighed when the aroma of fresh bread and delicious preserves reached her.

  “We don’t have much,” Bessy stated, placing a plate as well as a steaming cup in front of Madeline, “but I do believe that we’re among the fortunate ones.”

  Eating her fill, Madeline could feel her mother-in-law’s eyes on her. Not unlike her son, she had a knack for watching those around her with a rather unsettling intimacy as though she could look straight into Madeline’s soul. It was unnerving to say the least!

  “Your coachman is gettin’ ready to leave within the hour,” Bessy said unexpectedly, her sharp eyes fixed on Madeline. “He’s out back hitchin’ up the horses.”

  Madeline nodded, taking a sip from her tea. Oh, how she wished she could go along! And yet…

  “Maybe ye ought to send your lady’s maid back with him.”

  At her mother-in-law’s suggestion, Madeline’s head snapped up and she stare
d at her with unconcealed shock.

  “We canna afford servants here,” Bessy explained. However, something in her eyes suggested that that was not the reason she wished her daughter-in-law’s lady’s maid gone.

  Madeline cleared her throat. “My father will−”

  “It wouldna be right,” Bessy interrupted her. Then she sat down across from her, her eyes imploring as she spoke. “Ye did not come here because ye wished it, did ye?”

  Madeline could not suppress a snort, “Who would want to live in such a decrepit house?”

  A sad smile came to her mother-in-law’s face. “Ye’ve grown up differently than us or ye’d know that there are places far worse than this and people still call them home.” She leaned forward. “We are safe here. Surely, life is full of work, but it is peaceful. We are very grateful for the way Derek looks after us.”

  Watching her mother-in-law intently, a woman who had lived a life so much different than her own, Madeline noticed the faraway look that came to the old woman’s eyes. As she spoke, her voice was soft, full of memories. “My husband died when Derek was all but ten years old. Ever since then, he has been looking out for us, shouldering burdens that no child should know.” Sadness and pride tinged her voice with equal measure. “And he still does, taking care of everyone, working himself to the bone. He rarely shares his burdens.” Blinking, Bessy turned her gaze to Madeline, hope shining in her eyes. “Maybe he will share them with ye.”

  Madeline swallowed, strangely reluctant to disappoint this woman’s hopes. And yet, why would her husband confide in her if he did not confide in his family? After all, theirs was not a marriage of affection. It had been born out of a scandal no less!

  “Ye do not look happy, my dear,” Bessy observed, her watchful eyes still fixed on Madeline’s face.

  Not knowing how to reply, Madeline merely shook her head, sighing. What was she to say? How could anyone understand what went on in her heart if she herself was so lost?

  “’Tis not this place, is it?” Bessy continued her line of questioning. “I’m certain ye’re used to fancier houses and workloads of servants, but ‘tis not the condition of Huntington House that’s the reason. Ye’ve been sad for a while now, have ye not?”

  With wide eyes, Madeline stared at her mother-in-law, once more feeling as though the other woman could look into her very soul. No one had ever noticed. Or at least, no one had ever asked her that. Was she happy? She was supposed to be. And why would people not expect that of her, considering everything she had? Was she not one of the few fortunate ones?

  Blinking, Madeline noticed a lone tear slowly running down her cheek and hastily brushed it away, embarrassed to have shown so much of her inner self.

  Her mother-in-law nodded, a knowing gleam in her watchful eyes. “Ye’ve been miserable for a long time, haven’t ye? Only putting on a brave face?”

  Madeline swallowed, her hands clenching around the hot cup as she averted her gaze, staring down into the amber liquid, small wisps of steam wafting into the air. Willing the lump in her throat back down, she wished she could simply vanish into oblivion. How had her life come to this? She wondered, a long, heavy breath leaving her body.

  “Ye’ll be all right, dear,” Bessy whispered then, her voice certain as though she had already seen Madeline’s future. With a soft smile on her weathered face, she reached out and her work-worn hands wrapped gently around Madeline’s. “Maybe coming here will help ye smile again.”

  Again, Madeline swallowed as she could not see how this was possible. After all, every change in her life had been for the worse. Had she not lost more than she had gained? Had she gained anything at all?

  “’Tis your home now,” Bessy continued, gently squeezing Madeline’s hands, as her sharp eyes sought hers, “and we’re your family.”

  For a moment, Madeline’s heart stopped as she stared at her mother-in-law. She could not help it, but despite the old woman’s kind smile, her words sounded like a punishment, a sentencing. Yes, they were her family now. She was trapped here, tied to them for life.

  “Know,” Bessy whispered then, her eyes imploring, “that no matter what was before, we will stand by ye. Ye’re not alone.” Nodding at Madeline encouragingly, Bessy then rose from her chair and returned to the workbench, chopping vegetables as she hummed a sweet little melody under her breath.

  Staring at her mother-in-law, Madeline felt a cold chill brush over her fingers now that Bessy’s hands had left, and for a moment, Madeline felt utterly alone. However, then her mother-in-law’s words repeated in her ear, and she wondered what it would feel like to be a part of their family. Certainly, her parents as well as Aunt Odelia had always been loving and kind. However, they had always followed their own idea of what Madeline might need and ought to be. Rarely had they paid attention to what she wanted and needed. Rarely had they seen her, mostly satisfied to accept the mask that Madeline showed to the world as the truth.

  Why? Madeline wondered, sadness suddenly weighing heavily on her heart. Had it simply been easier? Had they not cared enough to learn the truth? Why was it that her new mother-in-law could see her aching heart with one glance when her own family could not? Not even after years of knowing her? Or had they seen her misery but never thought it right to acknowledge it?

  “Drink your tea before it’s cold, dear,” Bessy’s soft voice reminded her before resuming the melody she had hummed before.

  Putting the cup to her lips, Madeline inhaled the warm scent, utterly lost as to what to do.

  What was she to do?

  Chapter Fourteen − The Fear of Failing

  Over the next few weeks, Derek fell into a comfortable routine with his tenants. Most days he spent assisting them in restoring their homes, slowly getting to know them as well as their families. The barn had all but vanished, its wood needed to repair holes and splintering boards, now that autumn was well on its way. The wind grew chillier and the sun set earlier, cutting the days short and reducing the hours of light they could spend on necessary repairs.

  Once the saw had been delivered, a few tenants had begun cutting down trees. However, so late in the year, they would not be able to rebuild what had been lost to the seasons of the past decades. Still, a sense of cautious hope hung in the air as plans were made for the following spring.

  Toward the end of most days, Derek would climb to the roof of Huntington House and see to the many leaks and weak spots that had developed over the years. He worked slowly and carefully, systematically combing the slates for deficiencies, always ensuring sure footing as he took another step. Still, he could not help but notice his mother’s and sister’s fearful glances when they looked up at him. He saw the memory in their eyes of their father slipping on their wet roof so many years ago and falling to his end. Though he had survived the fall, he had never recovered, his body broken beyond repair.

  Lost in thought, Derek caught sight of his wife as she stepped out of the house in one of her fancy gowns, a warm coat wrapped around her, and carefully weaved her way around the many puddles that covered the ground toward the small path that led to the pond. After sending her lady’s maid back home, she had slowly begun to help around the house whenever his mother would suggest a task. However, so far, she seemed unable to make her peace with her new home.

  And yet, she stayed.

  Derek could not help but wonder why.

  As she had made it half-way down to the pond, Collin came running out of the house, chasing after her. “Maddie! Maddie wait for me!”

  Derek grinned. Despite his wife’s best efforts, his nephew seemed to be unable−or unwilling−to remember to call her my lady or at the very least Madeline. He continued to call her Maddie, and by now, she had given up on correcting him.

  Still, Derek often noticed the small eye roll that spoke of her annoyance, and he wondered if it was simply an expression of years spent learning what was proper or if it was a sign that she truly disliked being called Maddie.

  Derek doubted it, for des
pite those little signs of annoyance, his wife seemed to have taken to Collin in a way he would not have expected. Although she often seemed a bit stiff around the boy, she always took her time answering all his many questions. Often, they would go into the stables and feed Milly, one of their sturdy farm horses. Especially now that the mare was expecting a young one, Collin felt the need to feed and stroke her whenever possible.

  And the one person he wanted by his side when he did so…was Maddie.

  Shaking his head, Derek smiled. More than once, he had observed that those who seemed to dislike children the most are the very ones that the little ones find the most fascinating, following them tirelessly, inviting them to play, offering their own little wisdom.

  And Collin was nothing if not tenacious.

  Maddie had no chance.

  Before long, she had come to accept his presence, his childish admiration and exuberance slowly thawing her icy exterior. As he watched them walk down the path to the pond together, Collin’s little face turned up to her, Derek wished he could walk with them. If only he could figure out a way to speak to his wife without lashing out at her.

  Although they occasionally managed a short conversation in a civilised tone, it usually turned into a heated argument whenever they were left alone together for too long. Annoyed with his own lack of self-control, Derek wondered what it was about his wife that had his emotions boiling so close to the surface. Usually, he was the one who remained calm no matter what the circumstances. However, when he was around her…

  Derek shook his head, remembering a day about a fortnight ago when he had come upon her and Kara walking back from the small well behind the house. Careful not to ruin her precious shoes, his wife had kept to the gravel, avoiding the wet grass and the occasional mud puddle, while his sister had carried two heavy buckets full of water back to the kitchen.

  More than his own annoyance, Derek had cringed under the hateful glares of his tenants as they had become aware of the sight.

  Striding toward the two women, Derek had snatched the buckets out of Kara’s hands, shooting his wife an angry glare. “You ought not to be carrying these,” he had chided Kara in a gentle tone, doing his utmost not to let her see his anger. “Not in your condition.”