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

by Bree Wolf

  For a moment, Madeline was tempted to return his smile, to accept the teasing banter that always seemed to smooth over their anger whenever it arose out of the differences that still existed between them. For a moment, she was truly tempted, for it would have been the easier way.

  But Madeline could not.

  The smile would not come. Instead, an unfamiliar calm spread through her being as she realised that a moment of truth was on the horizon. And as much as Madeline feared it, she could not turn away.

  When she did not respond, her husband stepped toward her, his face now serious as he gestured to her wet dress. “You need to change, Madeline, or you will catch cold. Let me escort you back to your room. I’ll light a fire and−”

  “Do you have any idea,” Madeline interrupted, bitterness lacing her words, “what it feels like to be rejected by your own husband?”

  He froze in mid-step, his mouth slightly open as he stared at her.

  “If you didn’t want me,” Madeline forced out, willing away the tears that lingered in the corners of her eyes, “then why did you marry me? You told me it was not for my dowry, and I don’t know why but I believe you.” She shrugged, shaking her head. “Then why? You had to have had a reason. Tell me. Please.”

  Something changed in her husband in that moment. His body tensed as though he forced a tight control on emotions that threatened to burst forth. Was he angry with her? Although his shoulders were drawn up, the muscles in his neck taut as his right hand curled around the shirt he was still holding, his gaze held hers with a smouldering intensity that spoke not of anger but rather of−

  “I never said that I did not want you,” he growled, measured steps−slow and oddly menacing−carrying him closer as his gaze held hers, watching her. When he came to stand in front of her, he exhaled slowly, his teeth gritting together painfully, before a tiny spark ignited deep within him, sending him into motion.

  Puzzled by his reaction at first, Madeline now found her body warming under his gaze and her skin tingle with anticipation. There was something in the way he looked at her that spoke of a struggle, one she could not understand. And yet, there was something else in his gaze as well, something lurking underneath the surface of his guarded exterior, something that promised passion and−

  As her eyes travelled to his chiselled chest, marred by scars, and yet, radiating warmth and safety, his paralysis exploded, propelling him toward her.

  Tossing the shirt aside, her husband reached for her, his arms coming around her lightning-quick.

  Madeline gasped as she found herself pulled against him, his warmth engulfing her like a wildfire, scorching her skin even through the layers of wet clothing. Before she could form a conscious thought, his left hand slid up the slope of her neck, cupping the side of her face and tipping her head back. Staring up into his eyes, Madeline had barely enough time to fill her lungs with air before his mouth claimed hers.

  Although they had kissed before this was different.

  Swept off her feet, Madeline could barely tell up from down. All she knew was where his body touched hers, holding her ever closer as though he could not bear even the smallest distance between them. Her hands slid up his chest, feeling his skin, warm and smooth, here and there lined with thin scars, the story of his battles. And yet, it seemed that the battle that had waged within him had been the one consuming him whole.

  There was something urgent and desperate in the way he kissed her as though he had denied himself the pleasure for too long. Had he? Madeline wondered dimly as his hand slid further back, cupping the back of her neck and holding her against him. His mouth opened, and he deepened the kiss, stealing her breath and turning her knees into pudding.

  Somewhere in the back of her mind, Madeline wondered why he had waited so long to kiss her when he had so obviously wanted to? And why had she never noticed? Was his mask so much better than hers? Or had she simply not dared to look closely enough, afraid of what she would find?

  Returning his kiss with equal measure, Madeline could barely remember the cold that had held her in its clutches before. Now, her body seemed to burn with heat, eagerly straining against him, all her senses narrowing in on the pleasure of his touch.

  And then he pulled away.

  The moment his lips left hers, Madeline’s eyes flew open, a growl of displeasure stuck in her throat. But although he lifted his head, his gaze once more burning into hers, his arms never loosened their hold on her. He held her as possessively as before as though never intending to release her, and yet, there was a touch of indecision, of doubt in his eyes that Madeline could not understand.

  He inhaled deeply, the muscles in his jaw tensing as before. “You need to get out of these clothes.” He spoke the words as he had earlier, and still, Madeline knew there was a deeper meaning to them the moment she felt his right hand tug on the laces of her dress.

  Her gaze widened slightly as she understood his underlying question, and a shiver went through her at the thought of sharing his bed. However, Madeline could not deny that she was no longer the woman she had been on her wedding night. Then, she had seen it as her duty. Now, it was something else.

  Something much more pleasurable.

  Desirable.

  Utterly tempting.

  Seeing the tension on her husband’s face as he waited for her answer, Madeline acted on impulse. Pushing herself up on the tips of her toes, she planted her lips on his.

  Taken aback, he hesitated for a moment. However, it vanished in the blink of an eye.

  Returning her kiss with the same eagerness as before, he held her close, his hands roaming over her back, undoing the laces that held her dress closed one by one. As they fell away, the wet fabric remaining plastered to her skin, keeping the dress from sliding to the floor, Madeline felt his hands move to her shoulders.

  Slowly, his fingers slipped underneath the fabric, brushing over her bare skin, sending goosebumps up and down her body. Then he gently moved the dress down, baring the skin to the chilled night air.

  Madeline sucked in a sharp breath, her gaze fixed on his as her dress slowly slid down her body, finally pooling around her feet. With only her chemise to clothe her, Madeline felt utterly exposed…in more ways than one. Although her gaze held his, she could not bear to look at him. They had crossed the threshold into physical intimacy, and yet, secrets remained, hidden deep inside. On some level, they were still strangers, and Madeline could not think of a way to come full circle.

  Afraid he felt it too, afraid he might pull away again, she once more reached up to kiss him.

  As before he answered her plea eagerly, his body shifting as he swept her into his arms and carried her the few steps to the bed.

  In the hearth, the fire crackled, sending its warmth across the room. However, Madeline had no need for a fire any longer as the heat that burned between them warmed her chilled skin in the most delicious way.

  Chapter Twenty-Five − A Coward at Heart

  Glancing at the other side of the bed where his wife lay sleeping, her wild black curls splayed across the pillow, Derek smiled. He reached out and touched a strand of her hair, feeling it still damp between his fingers.

  As the rain continued to beat down onto the roof, Derek prayed that his repairs would hold. For her sake. To keep her warm. However, turning his head, he caught sight of her wet clothes, lying crumpled across the room, and could not deny that the rain had been in his favour tonight.

  Without the downpour, there would have been no need for a fire. If she had not failed at lighting her own fire, she would not have come into his room, frustrated and angry. And if she had not come into his room, they would not have…

  Derek sighed, wishing he could simply reach out and pull her into his arms.

  However, he dared not.

  As physically intimate as they had been with each other, there were still things between them.

  Secrets.

  Growling under his breath, Derek pushed back the blanket and surged to
his feet. Although he did not wish to, although he tried to force the image from his mind with all his might, he could not stop the memory of his wife telling him she had married the wrong man.

  Ever since Madeline had arrived at Huntington House, Derek had all but forgotten her intention of seeking out Townsend to begin an affair with him. Occasionally, the memory had crossed his mind, but he had always banished it instantly, sickened by the possibility that she had made good on her promise.

  Pulling on his shirt and breeches, Derek hastened downstairs. He did his best not to disturb the house as it lay in silence, his own emotions in stark contrast to the peacefulness of the night.

  Slipping into his boots and pulling on a warm coat, he strode toward the logs stacked at the back wall of the barn. If he was up, he might as well do something useful with the energy that burned in his veins. With a cold winter ahead, they would need all the firewood they could get.

  Firewood.

  That word instantly brought back the memory of his wife as she had entered his chamber in a flurry of barely repressed indignation and disappointment, her wet skirts dripping all over the floor, her limbs shivering in the cold evening air. More than anything, he had wanted to pull her into his arms and warm her with his body. However, he would never have dared to do so, had she not…

  Shaking his head, Derek swung the axe forward, splitting a log in two.

  From the moment he had first laid eyes on her, he had wanted to hold her in his arms, yet certain that that was the last thing she wanted. And so, he had kept his distance even after they had been married, doing his best to respect her wishes. Had he been wrong?

  Only a few hours ago, his wife had demanded to know why he would reject her, why he had married her if he did not want her. From the way she had spoken, the tone of her voice aggrieved, even heart-broken, Derek had to believe that his rejection had pained her. And yet, his mind refused to believe that it could be true.

  Had she come to care for him…despite everything that stood between them? Was that possible?

  As much as Derek wanted to believe it to be so, he could not help but remember the way the ton regarded people like him and his family. And yet, had he not come to realise in the past few weeks that his beliefs were nothing more than prejudices? That he ought to reconsider and judge others the way he himself wished to be judged, by his actions alone?

  If he did so regarding his wife, Derek knew that there was only one conclusion: she cared for him.

  A careful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he stared into the distance, remembering the way she had felt in his arms, her chilled skin against his, warming under his touch.

  As hope for a future blossomed in his heart, Derek once more remembered the nagging question that stood between them, and he once more raised his axe, feeling the need to slice through the sturdy log, to see it broken in two. Was that not how his own heart felt? Ready to burst in two, only waiting for the confirmation of his worst fears?

  Did she truly care for him the way he cared for her? Or was he merely second best? A consolation prize now that Townsend was not an option any longer?

  At least not as a husband, Derek corrected himself, feeling his hands begin to shake with the rage that bubbled up under his skin. More than anything, he wanted to bring down his axe on Townsend’s head, instantly shocked by his own thoughts.

  Dropping the weapon, he rubbed his hands over his face, trying to collect his thoughts. Despite his time in the army, he was not a violent man, a man that used force to achieve his goals or put down his enemies.

  And he refused to become such a man.

  Drawing a lungful of cold night air into his body, Derek knew that there was no prolonging the inevitable. He needed to know. He needed to ask her for the truth, and then he would need to find a way to deal with it…whatever it was.

  Still, he could not deny that he dreaded the moment when she would look at him and he would see the truth in her eyes, knowing that with every day that passed. his heart was more in danger than ever.

  For if he was completely honest−at least with himself−then he had to admit that he was in love with his wife.

  There was no denying that.

  When morning came on slow feet, Derek returned to the house, not surprised in the least to find his mother in the kitchen, her old hands kneading dough as she had done almost every day of her life. Wishing to escape her watchful eyes, Derek snatched an apple from a barrel in the corner and headed toward the door. “I’ll get an early start today. Tell…Madeline I shall be back for supper. There is no need for her to−”

  “I’m not your messenger, boy!” his mother snapped, her hands on her hips as she regarded him through narrowed eyes. “If ye wish to tell your wife something, ye better find the courage to do so yourself. Do ye hear me?”

  Derek swallowed, knowing that his mother was right, and yet, he could not face his wife. Not now. As much as he knew he ought to speak with her, the thought of learning the truth terrified him like nothing ever had. “I will,” he finally said, knowing that as much as he wished to, he could not escape it forever.

  “Good.” Clearing her throat, his mother returned to kneading the dough. “Before ye run out though, ye might wish to know that the Dunning boy came over a half an hour ago.”

  Derek froze with his hand on the door handle. “Why?” he asked, turning back to look at his mother. “Where is he?”

  “He returned home, but his mother asked him to tell ye that there is a leak in their roof from the downpour last night. He said she tried to fix it herself, but−”

  “I’ll go see her right now.” Nodding, Derek headed for the door for the second time that morning, grateful to have his thoughts occupied by a less terrifying subject. Somehow, he needed to convince Meagan to leave behind their cottage and move into the manor house…at least until spring when the weather would clear and allow for the necessary repairs to be made.

  However, remembering the proud look in Meagan’s eyes, Derek knew that it would be far from an easy feat.

  ***

  Waking from a deep, peaceful slumber, Madeline first noticed the smile that still clung to her face. Then she noticed that she was not in her own bedchamber, but rather in her husband’s.

  With wide eyes, clutching the blanket to her chest, Madeline surged upward, her cheeks flushing red at the memory of the previous night. Expecting to see Derek somewhere in the room, she could not help the small plummet of her heart at seeing that she was alone. Why had he left? Why had he not woken her up?

  Gathering her damp clothes off the floor, Madeline tiptoed into her own chamber, dressing quickly. A part of her dreaded seeing her husband while another could not wait for the moment his gaze would find hers. What would it feel like? After everything they had shared last night, how would it feel to look at each other in the light of day? Would they feel like strangers again? Or would they feel connected somehow as though an invisible bond stretched between them?

  Stepping into the kitchen, Madeline’s eyes travelled from her mother-in-law, who was just now placing hot scones on the table, to Kara, Sean and Collin, already seated. They greeted her warmly, urging her to sit down.

  “Can I see Milly and Maddie today?” Collin asked his mother with a side glance at Madeline.

  “Maddie?” Madeline mumbled, confused for a second as her mind was still occupied with the fact that her husband was nowhere to be seen. Where had he gone so early in the morning?

  “I don’t know,” Kara mumbled, one hand resting gently on her swollen belly while the other brushed gently over Collin’s head, her eyes searching his face as though hoping to find an answer there. “You’re still feverish sometimes. I don’t believe it would be good for you to go outside yet.”

  “But I want to see Milly and Maddie!” Collin whined, his pale face scrunched up in frustration as he slumped down in his chair.

  Madeline frowned. Dimly, she recalled that Collin had suggested to name the little filly Maddie; however, sh
e had never agreed to that.

  Smiling, Madeline shook her head. It would seem Collin had simply decided that he did not need her approval. Not that he was wrong. After all, to this day, she had not been able to persuade him to call her Madeline. She might as well surrender the filly’s name now before waging an endless war, which would still end with her defeat.

  “Where is Derek?” Madeline asked her mother-in-law as the old woman sat down at the table beside her. “Has he already left?” Her heart sank.

  Bessy nodded. “The Widow Dunning asked for his help. Last night’s downpour seems to have torn a hole into her roof.”

  Sighing, Madeline leaned back, uncertain if this was good news or not. Had her husband known about the leaking roof when he had sneaked out of his room this morning? And even if he had, why had he not simply woken her up? Although Madeline’s mind conjured a kind and respectful reason why he had not done so, she could not help but feel as though his disappearance was proof that he was avoiding her. The only question was, why?

  Did he not care for her?

  That thought felt like a knife slicing through her heart, and Madeline quickly excused herself from the table before tears began streaming down her face. Running back upstairs, she hid in her room and allowed herself to fall to pieces. Fear and doubt wrecked her body until no more tears would come.

  Last night, there had been hope, and now…?

  Splashing cold water onto her flushed face, Madeline stared at her reflection in the small mirror by her vanity.

  What do you want? A distant voice whispered in her ear, and for the first time, Madeline did not hesitate to answer. “Him.”

  A soft smile came to her face as she realised that after all this time she finally knew exactly what she wanted. The only question was, how would she go about conquering her husband’s heart?

  Keeping herself busy around the house, Madeline spent the day remembering the many moments she had shared with her husband since the night they had first met. Although questions remained, she did not doubt that he felt something for her, and that thought made her heart dance in her chest.