by Kelly Boyce
But he could not depart as yet. He could not leave Madalene unprotected with Tunsten nearby.
How he wished Madalene would return to Northill. As much as he preferred to be the one to protect her, he knew her father and Marcus Bowen would never let anything befall her.
Unlike he had.
But she was not at Northill. She was here, in London, at least for the time being. And he would be damned if he would let Tunsten get anywhere near her. He’d kill the man with his bare hands before he did.
His stomach heaved as the image of his dead brother’s frozen expression staring up at him wavered in his mind’s eye. He closed his eyes briefly and forced it away.
Whatever it took.
What it took, apparently, was another hour spent at the godforsaken tea until Hawk swore he would give his left arm for something stronger if he had to endure one more minute. Perhaps it would not have been quite so deplorable had he not had to watch Major Gibbons fawn incessantly over Madalene while he watched from afar. The man had no sense of finesse or subtlety. Why, if he kept this up, Hawk half expected the major to drop to one knee and propose before the tea ended.
A horrid notion and not one he would countenance. She was his. To protect, that is. Nothing more. The kiss they’d shared in the salon earlier aside. Though it had been the most enticing kiss he could ever recall receiving. So much so, he’d quite lost himself in the sweet taste of her mouth, his gentle intentions trampled by his baser needs. Bloody hell, but he had wanted her. He’d wanted to drag her to the floor and cover her with his body. He’d wanted to peel away the layers of clothing and worship the soft skin lurking beneath begging for his touch.
But the glorious image of her head thrown back in passion as he filled her quickly became juxtaposed over the fear he’d seen in her eyes the night Phillip had attacked her and it was enough to cool his ardor. She told him she knew he would never hurt her, but he feared his passions, once let loose, would not be held in check. That if she asked him to stop, he would not comply. What if he lost his head, his restraint? What if, despite her assurances he would not, he became just like his brother?
Misery shrouded him in a dark cloud and weighed upon his heart as he stood alone in the corner of the Lindwells’ great room waiting for the crowd to thin. Once both Tunsten and Major Gibbons had left, he followed suit, unsure if Madalene even noticed his departure.
Or if she would even care.
* * *
“Will you be returning to Northill soon then?”
Madalene glanced up at Major Gibbons as they slowly strolled through the pathways of Hyde Park, her arm looped through his. The day had turned mild and having the opportunity to be out of doors helped improve her mood, if only a little.
“Yes, I expect so. I have found a suitable replacement for my position and there is really no reason left for me to tarry any longer in London.”
“No reason at all?” He smiled down at her and Madalene quickly looked away at the landscape blanketed in white.
Major Gibbons’s interest in her, while flattering, was also fraught with difficulty. His sister had made it clear she did not find Madalene a suitable choice for a wife. Even now, walking several paces behind them, Madalene could feel her eyes burning holes through her wool coat. The woman made her uncomfortable, as if Madalene had to be on her guard for whatever veiled barb or cutting glare came her way. Should she encourage the major’s affection for her, likely these things would only increase. And what then?
Madalene redirected the conversation back to safer ground. “I have informed Miss Caldwell that I will take the position of headmistress once the school opens.” It had been a difficult decision, but after the charity tea and Hawk’s pronouncement that nothing could come of whatever affection laid between them, she needed to do something. She could not spend her days at Northill living with her father. She loved him dearly, but she needed something that kept her busy. The way things stood, her future was a blank slate and she had no idea what to draw upon it. She needed something that would keep her mind off the life she wanted but could not have. Headmistress of a school seemed as good a thing as any. It was employment, a steady income, and a modicum of independence.
“And are you happy with this decision?”
“I suppose so.” She was not necessarily unhappy.
“Is this what you want for your life?” His question was gentle, but pointed.
“It will suffice for now.”
“And what if a handsome gentleman comes along and sweeps you off your feet? Would you be amenable to leaving your position as headmistress to marry him and be mother to his children?”
The major did not mince words and while it wasn’t exactly a proposal, it definitely laid the foundation for one to come later, should she profess an interest. Madalene stepped lightly over a small puddle and chose her words carefully. She liked Major Gibbons well enough, but she loved Hawk. Major Gibbons considered her as a potential wife. Hawk had made it clear he did not. If she did agree to marry Major Gibbons, would she then have the life she had always wished for? Or would it simply be a pale imitation?
“Anything is possible.” It was the best she could do without offending him or making promises she may not be able to keep.
“And should I find myself near Northill, would you be amenable to a visit?”
His question startled her. She had thought his work with the Prime Minister would keep him in London. “Of course. Did you expect to be in the area?”
He glanced at her and smiled, offering a quick wink. “Anything is possible, Miss Cosgrove.”
They walked on, the weight of what he had intimated settling around them like a heavy cloak. Madalene did not want to incite an interest she wasn’t yet sure she could return. Her heart was engaged elsewhere and somehow it seemed wrong to encourage Major Gibbons to give his heart, if she was unable to return the favor.
Major Gibbons stopped and turned toward her, taking her hands in his. “Perhaps I overstep my bounds, Miss Cosgrove, but I feel it necessary to inform you that my interest in you goes beyond friendship.”
“Oh.” Oh dear. Were they really going to have this conversation right here in the middle of Hyde Park? With his sister not twenty paces behind them, glaring with hatred at Madalene’s back? “Major Gibbons, I am quite flattered, but I—”
He shook his head, interrupting her then continued on. “I realize we have known each other less than a month, but in that time I have discovered you to be both lovely in appearance and kind in your nature. I would very much like to advance our relationship, but I first feel I must inquire about the nature of your relationship with Lord Hawksmoor.”
“Lord Hawksmoor?” Had her affection for him been so obvious? Had Major Gibbons seen him leaving the salon after their kiss? Or had the aftermath of the brief passion they’d shared been obvious to see when he came upon her but a few moments later?
“Yes. I have seen the way he gazes upon you and I worry with your soft heart you may feel you should be kind to him, which may lead him to believe something untoward may be possible.”
“Untoward?” Her face flamed despite the cool February afternoon. “Major Gibbons, I assure you—”
Again, he waved her off, refusing to let her have her say. A rather annoying habit in her estimation.
“It is just that I knew his brother, briefly. We had a mutual acquaintance in Lord Rothbury. I confess I found the first Lord Hawksmoor to be a rather disturbed individual, though he hid it well in polite society. However, they say madness can run in families. Madness I believe the new Lord Hawksmoor may have inherited, and that while some say he possesses a certain enigmatic charm, I suspect it may all be for show. A mask, if you will. I fear if you allow yourself to get too close to him, the mask will come off and you will be faced with the monster that lurks beneath it.”
With each word Major Gibbons spoke, Madalene’s heart beat harder and faster until it reverberated beneath her breast. How well did the major know Hawk’s brother
? He said they shared a mutual acquaintance in Lord Rothbury, but had they spent any time together? Would Phillip have said anything that might lead Hawk to uncover the identity of Lord T and finally find some peace?
“I can assure you, in the many years I have known Lord Hawksmoor and despite his current circumstances that may cause one to think otherwise, he is a good man at heart. He would never hurt me.”
Before Major Gibbons could respond, Mrs. Chambers stepped forward, her stride carrying a hint of anger, her feet hitting the ground as if it had offended her greatly. “You have known Lord Hawksmoor for years? How is this possible?”
Her abrupt interruption took Madalene by surprise and she took a step back, her hand sliding out of Major Gibbons hold. “I was employed at Raven Manor.”
“When?”
Madalene wasn’t sure what it mattered but she took a deep breath and struggled to be polite. “Five years past now.”
“And what was it you did there?”
Madalene straightened, refusing to be cowed by Mrs. Chambers’ opinion of her simply because she’d had to make her way in the world. “I was a maid of all work.”
Mrs. Chambers turned her attention to her brother, her expression hard and uncompromising. If being a housekeeper to the Bowens had been a mark against her, likely the news she had been a maid of all work previous to that was more than Mrs. Chambers was willing to accept in a future sister-in-law. Imagine her complete horror if she were to discover Madalene had also taken in sewing and worked as a shop girl and any number of other sundry occupations to help her father put food on the table and a roof over their head.
“Brother, dear, I find I am coming down with a beast of a headache. Would you be so kind as to cut your visit with Miss Cosgrove short and take me home?”
The major’s gaze bounced between Madalene and his sister, his uncertainty palpable. Madalene forced a smile, making the decision for him as she wished to be away from Mrs. Chambers as much as his sister wished to leave. “Of course, you must, Major Gibbons. We may visit any time, but your sister’s health at the moment is tantamount.”
“Yes, of course. We shall return to the carriage, shall we?”
“I think that would be for the best.” Madalene needed to return to Ridgemont House and, between making arrangements to return to Northill, also send word to Hawk that Major Gibbons could be a source of information with respect to his brother’s activities and associates.
* * *
Hawk read the note from Madalene again, his gaze traveling over the perfectly formed letters, even and unwavering, much like the writer herself. Was she really suggesting he meet with Major Gibbons to see if he knew something about whom Phillip may have associated with? And how did Gibbons claim an acquaintance with either Phillip or Lord Rothbury? It wasn’t as if they ran in the same social circles.
Yet, according to Madalene, Gibbons had claimed Phillip was a deeply disturbed man. What information did he hold to form the basis of this assumption? The only way for Hawk to find out would be to corner the major and get answers straight from the source. Provided Gibbons would be willing to give them. Their first meeting had not exactly gone well. Nor their second for that matter.
Major Gibbons has asked me to join him as his guest at Mr. and Mrs. Dunhill’s party this evening. After that I shall return to Northill.
She was leaving London. Leaving him. The news hit him with blunt force. Though he believed she would be safer out of the city, he had not been prepared to let her go so soon. This pathetic need he had for her, to be close to her, to protect her, refused to leave. Last night he’d practically depleted his brandy stores trying to rid himself of the longing to be near her, but all that had accomplished was to give him a beast of a headache this morning and the knowledge that his feelings for Madalene Cosgrove were not going anywhere any time soon. If ever.
He had quite fallen in love with the little beauty and there seemed little he could do about it. Her hold on his heart was absolute. He woke in the morning having dreamed of her and he went to bed at night with thoughts of her on his mind, affecting his body in ways that only tormented him further.
And now she was suggesting he attend Mr. and Mrs. Dunhill’s party so that he might question another man who obviously felt the same way as he where she was concerned.
Had she kissed Major Gibbons? Had the major experienced the sweet taste of her? Likely not. At least that’s what he told himself. To tell himself anything different would likely drive him straight back to the brandy.
Hawk crumpled the note from Madalene and tossed it into the fire. It was highly improper for her, a single lady, to be penning him a letter. He did not want to risk someone finding it and using it against her to get to him. Paranoid thinking, perhaps, but in the weeks he’d returned to London, he had been inundated with desperate men begging, bargaining and threatening in the hopes he would forgive their debts.
He watched as the vellum notepaper withered in the flames. He was done with this hellish existence. Done with living in the small, dimly lit living quarters in the catacombs of a gaming hell. Done with being The Hawk and making his life’s work destroying others in an effort to uncover information none of them had. He had enough money to live comfortably for several lifetimes. He would soon inherit the earldom from his dying father and with it the properties entailed to the Ravenwood title.
He could leave London. Leave all of this behind and start a new life. The idea appealed to him, save for one small factor—Madalene. Whether he left London or stayed, if she was not with him what kind of life would he have?
An empty one.
And what if he could not find Phillip’s associate, the elusive Lord T, and bring the man down or to justice, or whatever it took to ensure Madalene was safe and the madness was ended? How could he leave her unprotected, knowing this faceless madman could be lurking around the next corner, stalking her, biding his time until he could make good on a challenge accepted years ago?
He couldn’t. It was as simple as that. Which left him only one alternative.
He must somehow convince Madalene to marry him.
Chapter Seventeen
Hawk leveled his most potent glare at the butler who requested to see his invitation. He continued to hold his gaze steady, saying nothing until the man began to squirm to an acceptable degree. “Do you know who I am?”
The butler’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his narrow throat. “Lord Hawksmoor, my lord.” The words came as a whisper, as if speaking them too loudly would cause bats to fly from the rafters and demons to burst through the marble flooring demanding the souls of the innocent. Hawk had to force himself not to hiss at the man just to see if he would explode out of his perfectly starched collar.
“Then you know it is likely in the best interest of your employers that I not be left standing in the entrance hall as if I was not welcomed into their home, don’t you?”
Silence littered the space between them as the butler glanced nervously toward the hallway that led to the ballroom then back to the front door where other guests continued to arrive.
“I will cause a scene, if that is what you are wondering. And I assure you, it will be quite spectacular.” Hawk smiled but the gesture lacked warmth.
The butler’s eyes bulged out of their sockets and he swallowed with great effort. “May I take your coat and hat, my lord?”
Hawk unloaded both with great flourish. “Well done, my good man. Your employer will thank you for your astute decision later.” As it turned out, after a brief look at his business journals, Mr. Dunhill did, in fact, owe him several hundred pounds, and while hardly a significant amount to most of his peers, the celebrated barrister with political ambitions had been slow in paying the amount off. A debt Hawk was now moved to forgive in recompense for pushing his way into a party he had not been invited to.
In fact, it appeared not many lords and ladies had been invited to the party, or if they had been, sent their regrets. Hawk crossed the threshold into the small ballr
oom and surveyed those present. He found several high-ranking politicians, a few more individuals with similar ambitions, and others who, though they lacked titles, were in possession of significant fortunes. Members of the peerage that were in attendance included Lord and Lady Caldwell. Neither of who owed him a single pound or had any unfortunate predilections to make them of any use to him—unless one could count having no heir and three daughters that required marrying off a predilection, which Hawk did not. More like an unfortunate circumstance.
He gazed about the room, searching for the blonde head that would lead him to where he needed to be. It did not take long. She drew his attention like a beacon of light standing near the refreshment table, sipping on a cup of what was likely overly sweetened punch if the way she wrinkled her nose was any indication. Next to her stood Major Gibbons, his rapt attention focused solely on Madalene as if the other women around them bore little to no significance. Why, the man was practically making cow eyes at her. Hawk had the sudden urge to drive his fist hard into the man’s besotted face.
He bit down on the unexpected rush of jealously brought on by seeing them together and strode through the crowd, ignoring the gasps and whispers as he passed. Granted, this was hardly a gathering a man of his stature and reputation would normally attend, but they hardly had to behave as if he had just escaped from the bowels of hell to cast a pall upon their party. He had two objectives to dispatch and then he would be on his way and leave them to their silly little merriments.
His first order of business was to question Major Gibbons about what he knew of Phillip’s madness. To determine if he had any information that would lead him to Lord T. Once that was completed he would move onto his second order of business—proposing to Madalene.