by Rose Gordon
“No,” she said, shaking her head and trying not to giggle. “Robbie tried to flip Brooke’s skirt up one Sunday after church and after she kicked his hand away, he got angry and tripped her. That’s when she ran inside and took of who knows what piece of her clothing and used it to hurl a rock no bigger than her pinky nail at his head. He fell to the ground like he was a lead weight.”
The stranger laughed quietly and his hands squeezed her a little tighter. “That must have been quite a sight.”
“Oh, it was. But his wailing wasn’t. He moaned and groaned in pain for nearly five unbearably miserable minutes before he realized nobody was paying him any mind. Except me, of course. I was the only one stupid enough to fall for his theatrics,” she said bitterly, shaking her head.
“You’re not stupid,” his calm voice said behind her.
Silence fell over them once again as they listened to heated exchanges and what Madison would swear were sounds of an impending fight outside.
A sudden unmistakable crack followed by a loud thump of a body hitting the ground made Madison jump nearly out of her skin. “Perhaps I should go out there before something else happens,” she said hastily, trying to turn around.
His hands tightened. “No,” he said softly in her ear. “You’re not needed out there.”
“Excuse me?” she asked disbelievingly. “Who are you to tell me where I am or where I’m not needed?”
He didn’t answer.
Who was this man anyway? Who was he to tell her what to do? Did he not realize how much worse it would all be if she didn’t stop Andrew before it was too late? “I really think I need to get out there,” she said again, trying to break his grasp. “Robbie isn’t like Andrew’s other opponents have been. He’s not able to hold his own in a fight.”
“So you want to rescue the man who loves you,” he said bitterly.
“No,” she burst out. “I’ve no romantic notions for Robbie. I just don’t want to see him dead, that’s all.”
“Because then Townson would go to prison or be exiled. Is that it?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her waist to hold her tightly.
“Yes,” she said sharply, trying to free his fingers from the hold they had on her. “I care far more for Andrew than I do for Robbie. I have to stop their fight. Please.”
His hands loosened a fraction, but stayed in position. “I don’t hear either of them anymore,” he said after a minute.
She heard them though. She could pick out Robbie’s pathetic whimpers anywhere. They were distant, but she could hear them all the same. “I think he’s loading him into a carriage,” Madison said inanely.
“Yes,” the man agreed. “Mine.”
“Yours?” she questioned. “Why?”
He didn’t answer her. Instead, he released his hold and from somewhere Madison couldn’t place, the mysterious gentleman lit a short candle and reached around her to hand it to her. “I promised Townson to keep you out of the way,” he explained. “You may go wherever it was you were headed. Just don’t follow me.”
“Why?” she asked, attempting to turn around to face him.
“No,” he said, grabbing her waist again and keeping her from turning to face him.
“Who are you?” she asked, truly curious. She’d just spend the last five or ten minutes in the dark with this man and she had no idea who he was. She’d somewhat recognized his voice, but she couldn’t place it. Not that that meant much. She’d met so many men since she’d come to England it was nearly impossible to keep them all straight when she could see their faces. Their voices were even more difficult for her to place. As odd as it was, she thought a lot of them sounded alike with their English accents and it was hard to tell them apart, especially in the dark.
“Don’t worry about that,” he countered. “Just go.”
She didn’t budge. Curiosity may have been rumored to have killed the cat, but she was no weak declawed cat anymore, she wanted to know who this man who had been holding her in the dark was. “No,” she said defiantly. “I’m not leaving until I know your identity.”
“Who do you think I am?” he asked. His voice so close she could feel his breath fan her ear and blow her hair, making her shiver.
“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I’m not good with voices. But I know for certain you’re not Lord Wray, Lord Drury, or Mr. Chapman. I’d know those three voices anywhere with how much I have to hear them wax and spout ridiculous poetry about my blue eyes looking like endless skies,” she said, sounding annoyed. “I know you’ve spoken to me before though. I just don’t know where.”
“You don’t need to remember where,” he said dismissively. “You just need to go. Now.”
“Not until I have your name,” she said sternly. She looked down at the candle stub she was holding. It hadn’t been very large to start with and now it looked no larger than an acorn. She really needed to get walking if she wanted to have enough light to see to get to a lighted hall. “Please tell me. My candle is about to burn out. I need to start walking, but I won’t leave until I have your name.”
“That’s unwise,” he stated. “You need to go before someone finds us. Townson or your sister will be looking for you soon and it would be best they don’t find us like this.”
Madison fought the urge to snort. “You clearly don’t know my sister,” she said dryly. If Brooke found them alone in the dark, she’d turn her eyes and pretend it never happened. Well, if Madison asked her to, that is. First, Brooke would probably try and talk her into letting the rumor slip if the match was to Madison’s advantage.
“I know her husband well enough,” the man countered. “He wouldn’t be happy about this.”
“He’d handle it however Brooke told him,” Madison countered. Andrew wasn’t one for gossip in the first place and he loved his wife and her family well enough that she was certain he wouldn’t call this man out or start rumors about them, especially if he was the one who asked him to keep her out of his fight with Robbie.
“That’s because she leads him around by his prick,” the man said disdainfully.
If the statement had been made about anyone else she would have died from laughter on the spot. But she knew better than anyone that Andrew truly loved his wife and Brooke undoubtedly returned his love in equal measures. “That was a nasty thing to say,” she said sharply. “I demand you apologize.”
He grumbled something she couldn’t understand then mumbled, “Sorry, I forgot for a second I was in the presence of a lady. I’ll choose my words more carefully in the future.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” she shot back hotly. “Apologize for your unflattering remark about my sister and her husband.”
He scoffed. “Fine. I apologize. From now on I’ll say, ‘Of course he will, he’s the most besotted man in England.’ Does that meet your approval?”
“You’re rather rude, did you know?” she asked sarcastically. Of course he knew he was rude. He probably prided himself on it.
“Thank you,” he said genuinely. “Believe it or not you just complimented me.”
“It wasn’t meant as such,” she retorted. “Now tell me who you are so I can go before my candle burns out. The flame is already burning the tips of my fingers because it’s so close to where I’m holding it on the bottom.”
“Then you better start walking,” he said, giving her a gentle shove forward.
Thinking she was going to outsmart him, she quickly whipped back around to get a peek at his identity. But in her haste, she made an error in judgment. She forgot to block the candle flame when she spun, and the quick spinning motion put out the flame right before she was able to get a glimpse of him.
“Good work,” he said sarcastically.
She ground her teeth. This man was absolutely intolerable. Why on earth had Andrew asked him to keep her occupied while he took care of Robbie?
Either he must be a mind reader or she’d spoken her thoughts aloud because the infuriating man said, “Bec
ause I was—”
The rest of his words were abruptly cut off when the door behind him suddenly swung open and revealed a very displeased Andrew. “What are you doing,” he hissed at her guest.
“Exactly what you told me to. I kept her away from him,” the mystery man said calmly. His back was to the gardens and the only light streaming into the room was behind him, making it possible for her to see his form, but not his face.
Andrew being directly underneath a lamp was fully visible and Madison was sure she’d never seen him so mad. “Well, you’ve done your job. Now let her go. Madison, come with me, I’ll take you to Brooke and she can see you to your room, if you’d like.”
Madison went to sidestep her mysterious man, discreetly trying to glance up to see who she’d been with. Almost out of the doorway, she froze when another voice, one that she and every member of the Banks family knew well, entered the scene. “Well, what do we have here?” Lady Algen said waspishly.
Madison noticed she wasn’t the only one who stiffened at the comment. Lady Algen, who was London’s—no, England’s—no, the continent’s—most vicious gossip hungry harpy, stood with her hands on her hips, grinning like a jackal. This did not look good. Turning her eyes from Andrew to the back of the man she hadn’t been able to glimpse on her way out the door, she knew trouble was about to ensue and all three of them were powerless to stop it.
“What irony,” Lady Algen declared, licking her lips. “I was present at the ruination of your sister with his man,” she gestured to Andrew, “I believe I also brought to light your other sister’s scandalous ways.” She shook her head and clucked her tongue. “I just had no idea it would come to this. Miss Banks, I honestly thought you were better than that.”
“That’s enough,” Andrew said sternly, making both Madison and Lady Algen freeze in terror. “Nothing is going on here. Go back and enjoy the ball while I return Madison to her sister.”
Lady Algen snorted. “I don’t think so. I shall escort her to her sister. Your wife will be in need of a shoulder to cry on when she finds out her husband has been trysting with her sister in the corners of her own gardens, during a ball she’s hosting no less.”
Madison gasped. Lady Algen thought she and Andrew were trysting? Did that mean she hadn’t seen the man in the doorway? She peeked over to the open door and he was no longer standing by the door. The hall was so dark she couldn’t see if he was even in there or not. Blast the man.
“My wife will not require a shoulder to cry on,” Andrew said smoothly. “There is nothing going on between Madison and myself that my wife is not aware of.”
“So she approves of your activities, then?” the old harpy asked with a disdainful tone.
“There are no ‘activities’, real or imagined, between us,” Andrew said defensively.
“So are you denying that the two of you were trysting in the dark?” she asked doubtfully.
“Come along, Madison,” Andrew said, ignoring Lady Algen and offering his arm to Madison.
Wearily, she took his arm and took a step when Brooke came running up. “Thank goodness,” she said excitedly as she ran to embrace Madison. “Don’t worry, everything’s fine now.”
“Is that so?” Lady Algen asked archly. “Are you aware your husband and sister have been keeping each other company tonight?”
“No, they haven’t,” Brooke said fiercely, putting her hands on her hips. “My husband was disposing of some rubbish, so to speak and Madison was with—”
“Me,” growled an angry voice that belonged to the unidentified man coming out of the doorway, grabbing Madison’s attention and making her gasp. “Townson asked Madison and me to wait over here until he came and got us to formally announce our engagement.”
“Your engagement?” Lady Algen gasped, eyes darting back and forth between the four of them.
“Yes, our engagement,” he confirmed. “Now, we shall all go back into the ballroom and allow Townson to make the announcement. Come, sweet,” he finished, offering his arm to Madison.
Madison stood numb. Closing her eyes, she silently prayed the ground would suddenly open and swallow her whole while an angel came down from heaven and wiped clean the memory of anyone that knew her. This was bad. This was beyond bad. This was catastrophic proportions bad. This was attempt to swim across the ocean back home to New York bad.
Catching sight of Lady Algen’s skeptical stare, she swallowed the uncomfortable lump in her throat and linked arms to the man she was about to become formally betrothed to. If she had been anyone else watching the scene, or even if it had been anyone else she had just become engaged to, she would have laughed at the twin looks of horror both Andrew and Brooke sported.
“Well, I never,” Lady Algen said, shaking her head. “I didn’t believe she’d go through with it.”
Madison’s escort stopped and turned to face Lady Algen. “Madam, you’d be wise to hold your tongue,” he counseled in a low, sharp tone. “The only thing you witnessed here tonight was the formal engagement announcement. Nothing else. If I hear even a hint of a rumor circulating suggesting anything else, you and anyone associated with you, will be finding out just how exciting the wilds of Australia really are.” He paused for a minute to let her brain work out his words. “Don’t think I don’t know of your involvement in the incident that took place at my house more than six years ago.”
Lady Algen took in a sharp intake of air and ran off as if she were being chased by a lion.
Turning back to face Madison, her nearly betrothed sent her a devious smile. “You just had to see my face, didn’t you,” he drawled tauntingly. “And now, you’ll get to see it every day for the rest of your life.”
Madison and Brooke gasped in unison at his cruel remark. Andrew, however, was not one to stand idle and watch while someone was taunted. Instead, he grabbed the man’s arm, spun him around and delivered a swift, hard punch to the other man’s midsection, making him gasp at the sudden loss of air, but showing no other signs of distress.
“Take that as a warning,” Andrew said evenly. “Come, ladies, let’s go announce this confounded engagement before Lady Algen does.”
That was it. That was how Madison now found herself, four weeks, two over-chaperoned carriage rides, and six obligatory waltzes later, looking into the cold blue eyes of her bridegroom.
And all she could think was in a way he was right, if she hadn’t been so blasted interested in discovering his identity, she wouldn’t be here making vows to look at his unyielding, handsome face for the rest of her life.
Curiosity may not have killed the cat, but it sure didn’t do her any favors.
Chapter 2
The groom, Benjamin Archer Leopold Charles Robert Collins, Duke of Gateway, swallowed nervously as he stared into the uncertain eyes of the woman who was now repeating her vows to be a faithful and loving wife to him until death do them part.
She was so beautiful, he thought as he watched her pretty pink lips move as she repeated Paul’s words. Her beautiful blonde hair was piled high atop her head with two sets of ringlet curls spiraling down to rest on either side of her face. Her gown was a gorgeous shade of sea foam green. It had capped sleeves, a moderately swooped bodice and long, flowing skirts that swished when she walked down the aisle to him.
That’s right, to him! He was the luckiest man in England. Today, right now, he was making Madison his wife. He’d never again have to go to another ball and watch her from the corner as men danced attendance on her. After today she’d be his and only his. He fought to keep the smile off his face as he thought what that meant. No other man would get to hold her and kiss her. No other man would get to claim her as his. She belonged to him; and no matter how many times he and Townson came to blows over that fact, she would still belong to him.
He cast a glance at the uneasy look on Townson’s face. He’d actually been a good sport about it, Benjamin allowed. He couldn’t fault the man for being angry things had worked out the way they had. Not that he was c
omplaining, it had benefited him greatly. He’d been hoping for this moment for more than six years. Six bloody years! Had it really been six years since he’d met her? He turned his head and thought about it, rolling back the mental calendar in his head. Yes, it had been six years, almost six and a half actually.
At eighteen he’d gone on Tour around the continent and spent a year seeing sights, tasting delicacies, and experiencing things he’d never imagined possible. But that trip paled in comparison to the one he took to the United States. In March of 1807, at three and twenty, he’d decided to go on Tour again, this time to America.
He’d once heard of a distant relation he had through his mother’s side of his family who lived in Brooklyn, New York. His whole life he’d grown up knowing he was a marquis and would one day be a duke. Everyone in Europe seemed to know about him and his scandal ridden past. But not in America, he thought. Over there people held no stock in titles. Heck, the founders had gone so far as to make a public declaration for the whole world to know they thought all men equal with equal rights and positions. Thus, he surmised, it would be a perfect place to go.
Leaving behind his fashionable (but not dandified, thank you) clothing, he took what would pass as commoner clothing, grew a scraggly if not somewhat patchy beard, and set sail for America. He was fairly certain he wouldn’t be recognized by his name, Benjamin Collins, but just to be safe, he chose his third most hated middle name and shortened it to Leo.
Knowing for sure nobody would equate Leo Collins with Marquis Channing—his courtesy title at the time, he slouched his shoulders and sought entry into the Swift household.
The family welcomed him in with open arms, as he knew they would since he’d corresponded with them for two months before he went and offered to send them a sizable amount if they’d agree to house him and not breathe a word of his title.
To his good fortune, the first night he was in the States, the family had been invited to a ball given by some wealthy client of his Mr. Swift’s. Eager to go and experience the American way, he dressed in clothes that would have been the height of fashion—ten years prior—and eagerly attended the ball.