To Tame a Dangerous Lord

by Nicole Jordan

  “No, I suppose you don’t.” Thankfully, his gaze had lightened with a slight glimmer of amusement. “But how am I to restore my sense of manhood after allowing an interfering wench to intervene in an affair of honor?”

  “I doubt your manhood is grievously wounded,” Madeline said dryly.

  “Oh, but it is. And it is up to you to make amends.”

  Her wariness suddenly returned full force, considering the way he was looking at her. “What do you mean?”

  “I want an answer to my marriage proposal.”

  “This is hardly the time to discuss your proposal,” she replied, taking a step backward.

  “I don’t see it that way, darling. This is the perfect time to resume our negotiations, especially since you owe me for calling off the duel.”

  Rayne’s silky tone put all her nerves on edge, as did the fact that he was slowly advancing on her. Madeline retreated until he had backed her against the trunk of an elm. Her heart began thudding as he stood there gazing down at her.

  “It should be abundantly clear by now,” he admonished, “that Ackerby’s pursuit of you is a compelling reason for you to wed me. He wouldn’t dare touch you if you were my countess.”

  “He won’t dare touch me now after you threatened to shoot him.”

  Raising his hand, Rayne put a finger under her chin, trapping her gaze and making her mouth go dry. “You can’t be certain of that. I intend to give you the protection of my name and title, Madeline.”

  “I don’t want your protection,” she said unevenly. “And I know you don’t truly want to wed me.”

  “You know nothing of the kind. If anything, this incident only confirmed my instincts about you. You’re intrepid and brave and a force to be reckoned with. And you are the woman I want for the mother of my heir.”

  Madeline felt her heart turn over as his blue eyes delved into hers. She recalled Rayne questioning her earlier about her desire for children, his intense expression as he’d waited for her answer, as if her reply were extremely important to him. And perhaps it was. He wanted children more than he wanted a wife.

  She had little doubt that Rayne would be a good father to their children. Indeed, he would likely love them far more readily than he would love her. Which was the chief trouble. He wanted her for a broodmare and she wanted love—

  He cut off that dismaying thought with a simple comment. “When I was in London on Monday, I procured a special license for us to marry.”

  Startled, Madeline stared up at him. “That is outrageously presumptuous of you.”

  “Not at all. I told you, I don’t mean to take no for an answer.”

  An obvious understatement, Madeline thought with exasperated worry as he moved even closer. Rayne was the most relentless man she had ever known, even more so than Ackerby. But at least Rayne’s intentions were honorable.

  Her thoughts were so preoccupied that she almost missed his next declaration. “… the ceremony can take place this afternoon.”

  “This afternoon! You must be joking.”

  “You know me better than that by now.”

  Madeline’s chin jutted out defiantly. “Simply because you have decided you will wed me, I must comply?”

  The corner of his mouth twisted in a hint of a smile. “No. You will comply because marriage to me is the best future for you. On Monday I also spoke with my solicitors and ordered them to arrange a sizable marriage settlement for you.”

  His admission gave her pause, since she was reminded of the practical reasons for accepting Rayne’s offer. As his wife she would have significant financial security. And she could possibly use his marriage settlement to help her brother get out of the predicament he was in—

  No, it was absurd to consider marrying Rayne for his money. She was not a fortune hunter.

  On the other hand, Rayne’s protection might be very welcome. Her quandary just now—Ackerby holding her brother’s theft over her head—had driven home again to Madeline just how powerless she was against someone of the baron’s wealth and stature. She wouldn’t be nearly so helpless in standing up to him if she were a countess. Admittedly, Ackerby frightened her, not for her sake but for Gerard’s.

  The prospect of a solitary future frightened her nearly as much, Madeline conceded. She dreaded the dreariness of life lived in chaste spinsterhood. She didn’t want to wind up a sad old woman, regretting the emptiness and loneliness of her existence. She wanted the joy of having children, a family, a beloved husband….

  While she stood debating, Rayne’s hand shifted to cradle her jaw. Her gaze fixed on his mouth as his thumb stroked her lower lip. Then before she could gather her scattered thoughts enough to prevent him, Rayne bent his head to kiss her.

  Her breath strangled in her throat at the first contact. Devil take him, this kiss was just as overwhelming as all the preceding ones, full of heat and seduction, power and tenderness.

  His lips claimed her possessively, his tongue reaching deep into the heat of her mouth, reminding Madeline just how much she craved his taste, his touch. Even knowing he was bent on gaining her capitulation by exploiting her weakness for him, she couldn’t pull away.

  His magical kiss went on and on, weakening her will. Madeline silently swore at Rayne, yet the husky moan that came from her throat was more pleasure-sound than protest as she argued halfheartedly with herself. There was no question that his kisses were thrilling, that his seduction was devastatingly effective. But he was relying on physical skill. His heart wasn’t engaged and likely never would be.

  Even so, her resistance was withering. The truth was, she wanted desperately to be Rayne’s wife….

  Realizing what she had just admitted to herself, Madeline groaned in disbelief. Was she actually considering agreeing to his proposal of marriage?

  His kiss softening, he drew back enough to murmur against her lips, “What did you say?”

  “Nothing. I was merely cursing you.”

  She felt his smile against her mouth. “You have been doing that frequently of late.”

  “You have given me ample cause.” Pressing her hands against his chest, she sucked in a breath. “You have to stop kissing me, Rayne. I cannot think when you are assaulting my senses this way.”

  “That is the whole point, sweetheart.” When Madeline failed to be amused, Rayne seemed to capitulate.

  “As you wish.”

  He didn’t release her, however. He merely stood there, holding her in a light embrace, his forehead pressed against hers while he cajoled her in a soft, persuasive voice. “Come now, love, you’ve delayed long enough. Say ‘yes.’”

  Madeline closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of him. The yearning inside her was more powerful than anything she had ever felt in her life. No matter how fiercely she fought it, or how sternly she warned herself about the risk, she wanted to marry Rayne.

  Did she dare surrender to the yearning of her heart? She would likely be giving up her dream of a loving marriage—a true love match. Yet being Rayne’s wife and risking heartache would be better than watching him marry some other woman. And perhaps—just perhaps—he might someday come to feel a little of the love she had already come to feel for him.

  Madeline shook herself mentally. It was idiotic to pin her hopes on foolish fantasies. But still, the lure of what might be possible if she were willing to chance marriage with him was too tempting to ignore.

  “If I were to wed you,” she said slowly, “I would not give up my new teaching position at the academy.”

  Rayne went still, as if he hadn’t expected her answer. She hadn’t either, for that matter. Am I completely mad, Maman?

  Surprisingly, he only nodded. “I have no objections, although it will be novel, a countess employed as a teacher.”

  “Arabella still teaches there, as do her sisters, and I mean to earn my keep.”

  “There is no reason for you to continue, love. You weren’t cut out to lead a life of docile servitude.”

  “There is reaso
n. I don’t want to sponge off you.”

  “You would not be sponging. You will be giving me an heir in exchange for marriage.”

  Madeline winced at the sudden ache in her heart. She would be marrying for love, but for Rayne it would be strictly a business transaction. “I remember. You said a marriage of convenience is all you want,” she murmured, wishing he would deny it.

  “You understand the advantages of a convenient match, Madeline. You are practical and sensible—when you are not putting yourself in danger. And you know I am not of a romantical turn of mind.”

  She did indeed know. Love would be no part of their bargain, Rayne had made that perfectly clear to her. She caught her lower lip between her teeth, knowing that if she agreed to his terms, she could never let him know that she had already lost her heart to him. Could she keep such a secret from Rayne?

  Madeline took a shaky breath, coming to a conclusion. “Very well,” she said unevenly.

  “Very well, what?”

  “I will marry you.”

  He looked only marginally surprised, and more than a little satisfied. “Good. I will make the arrangements for this afternoon.”

  Her brow furrowed as a twinge of panic ran through her. “This afternoon is much too soon.”

  “Why? A special license allows us to wed anywhere, at any time. And the vicar in Chiswick has already agreed to perform the ceremony whenever I request it of him.”

  Madeline grimaced. “You were very sure of yourself, weren’t you, Lord Haviland.”

  His mouth curved slightly. “Of course. It was you I was unsure about.”

  “Won’t your grandmother wish to be present at your wedding?” Madeline asked.

  Rayne brushed off her concern. “My grandmother is in Brighton at the moment. I don’t want to wait for her to return to London, or to spoil her enjoyment of her friend’s house party.”

  “Lady Haviland won’t be happy to learn that you have wed me.”

  “Allow me to handle her.”

  “What about your sisters?”

  “Both my sisters are in Kent, too far away to arrive in time.”

  Madeline wondered if Rayne meant to exclude his sisters for the same reason he wasn’t inviting his grandmother—because they would not approve of his marrying her.

  Then he hesitated as if a thought had occurred to him. “Perhaps you would rather have your brother present at your wedding.”

  She would certainly rather, but she had not been present for Gerard’s marriage in Scotland, and just now he was not available to attend hers. Furthermore, if she tried to explain why, his theft would come out.

  “I don’t require my brother’s presence,” Madeline replied. “But what is the hurry?”

  “I don’t intend to give you time to change your mind.”

  “I won’t change my mind,” she vowed, even though she was already having alarming second thoughts.

  “Then we will hold the ceremony at five o’clock at Riverwood. I’ll speak to the vicar about officiating as soon as I return to Chiswick.”

  Madeline suddenly recalled her own obligations. “I had best return there now. I have a class at ten this morning, and I have a wedding to prepare for….”

  The realization struck her with renewed force. She pressed her gloved hand to her temple, feeling dazed by the speed of events. She had come here intending to stop a duel and wound up agreeing to wed Rayne. Dear heaven, I am mad, Maman.

  “Come,” Rayne urged, smoothing her veil into place before taking her elbow. “I will let Freddie drive you home since I must stop at my house here.”

  She allowed Rayne to escort her to Freddie’s curricle, where he was waiting in the seat, holding the reins.

  As Rayne handed her up, he must have sensed her wavering resolution, for he said bracingly, “I will see you at five o’clock, love. I’ll send a carriage for you at Danvers Hall at a quarter till, and if you are not ready, I will come for you myself.”

  Madeline had no doubt Rayne would make good on his promise, and so made no reply as she arranged her skirts on the seat. She ignored Freddie’s quizzical glance also, and asked him to take her home at once, saying she would explain during the drive.

  Just now she was too occupied wondering if she had made a dreadful mistake.

  Rayne left the dueling field feeling a strong sense of satisfaction. He’d been seriously displeased to see Madeline this morning, but the end result made up for her maddening interference.

  By this evening she would be wedded to him, and by tonight she would be bedded.

  The prospect filled him with triumph and anticipation as his carriage negotiated the foggy streets of Mayfair. And when Rayne recalled Madeline’s irate responses to his interrogation, he felt an undeniable measure of relief.

  She’d had a reasonable explanation for writing to Ackerby, enough to allay his worst suspicions about her. Her concern was for him, not the baron.

  He had overreacted, Rayne admitted, thinking they might be lovers. And her correspondence with her brother was only the support of a loving sister, not some sinister plot to betray him.

  Marriage to Madeline was indeed the right course, Rayne reaffirmed to himself. He could repay his debt to her late father, as well as give her the protection of his name and save her from Ackerby’s pursuit.

  As for his grandmother, well … Rayne knew he might have a fight on his hands. He had little doubt that the imperious dowager Lady Haviland would object to his choice of brides. Thus he’d deemed it better to inform her after the fact rather than risk a disagreeable scene. Grandmother would simply have to be satisfied with the prospect of someday having a grandson to carry on the family title. In any event, he wouldn’t let his relative sway him from his course.

  Granted, Madeline was vastly different from the vapid debutante he had expected to marry. Yet despite his exasperation with her, he’d never admired her more than when she’d come marching out on the dueling field and pushed her way between two adversaries, threatening to shoot both of them if they refused to withdraw. Even now, the remembrance made Rayne smile.

  His opinion of Madeline’s mettle had risen another several notches with her stand against him this morning. And despite looking so bedraggled and dowdy in her mud-splattered cloak and dripping bonnet, she had shown the makings of a magnificent countess.

  He had spoken the truth to her earlier, Rayne acknowledged. He wanted a woman as feisty and brave as Madeline for the mother of his children.

  Yet at the same time, he’d made certain she held no illusions about the basis for their marriage. He wanted her to have no expectation of love between them. Short of that, however, he was willing to predict they would have a highly compatible union.

  Unexpectedly, Rayne’s feeling of anticipation was interrupted moments later when he arrived at his town house on Bedford Avenue, since the carriage standing at the curb bore the crest of Drew Moncrief, the Duke of Arden. And Arden himself was descending the front steps of Rayne’s mansion, evidently having paid an extremely early morning call only to find him away from home.

  His curiosity aroused, Rayne strode up the walk in time to meet the tall, elegant, fair-haired duke halfway.

  “I would like a private word with you, if I may, Haviland,” Arden said in greeting.

  His tone was pleasant enough, giving no indication for the purpose of his visit, and Rayne agreed readily and led him inside. Once he’d turned his wet greatcoat and hat over to Walters and seen his visitor’s outer garments likewise disposed of, Rayne invited the duke into his study, where they settled on comfortable leather couches.

  “My recent involvement with government affairs,” Arden began, “has made me aware of your past efforts to defeat Napoleon, protecting national interests from numerous threats over the years. I realize that the Foreign Office no longer funds a department for gathering intelligence, but I suspect your skills could prove invaluable in a domestic matter, Haviland. You are aware that Prinny survived an assassination attempt this p
ast January?”

  “I had heard of it, yes,” Rayne said.

  George, Britain’s Prince Regent, had nearly been shot, while his unpopularity was still causing riots now.

  “How may I be of service?” Rayne asked Arden.

  “Some disturbing rumors have been circulating about a fresh plot to assassinate the Regent. I would like to commission you to investigate. Should you find any credence to the tales, then I want you to foil the plot, if possible.”

  Rayne bit back a smile, feeling a renewed wave of satisfaction along with a sharp twinge of amusement. Just last week he’d been lamenting the dullness of his life and wishing for more excitement. Thwarting blackmail attempts, fighting duels, arranging marriage to a spirited spinster, and uncovering political intrigues with the prospect of foiling an assassination plot against the Prince Regent were sure to cure his restlessness and boredom.

  How fortuitous that Arden’s request had come at precisely this moment, Rayne decided. He would relish the chance to pit his wits against a new foe using the skills he’d developed in his former vocation.

  But first he had to get past his wedding and wedding night. Not that bedding Madeline would be a hardship. He was greatly anticipating initiating her in the carnal delights of the nuptial bed … and sating the powerful sexual desire that had been building inside him ever since their first titillating meeting at the inn when he’d kissed her and tasted a hint of the passionate woman trapped inside that drab exterior.

  Still, he was glad for the diversion. A new occupation for his time would give him an excellent reason to keep his distance from Madeline while they settled into married life together.

  “I would be pleased to help if I can,” Rayne replied easily to Arden. “Why don’t you begin by telling me everything you know and have heard so I can judge what may best be done?”

  Chapter Ten

  Spellbinding, magical, beautiful, incredible … there really are no words to describe it, Maman.

  How drastically her life had changed in the span of a single week, Madeline reflected as she stood reciting her vows in the elegant drawing room at Riverwood.