Maddie sat up, hair spilling over her shoulders and naked breasts. When she looked in his direction once more, surprise, confusion even, colored the frown on her face. “You make me sound mercenary. Your lack of title has nothing to do with my refusal.”
If all of Maddie’s lies were like sweet honey, that one would have given him a toothache. Why else would she refuse a match that was advantageous in every other respect? When she needed the money so badly?
“If my lack of blue blood is not the cause of your refusal, then why?”
Maddie hesitated, the glow of passion fading by the moment to reveal her apprehension. “Marriage for a woman requires trust. By speaking vows, we lose all control of our property, our children, our very beings.” She paused, frowning, clearly groping for words. “You’ve all but demanded I give you complete power over my life—and my daughter’s—when I know you merely want me for my land. How am I to know the manner in which you will treat us after marriage, after you have the scrap of earth that will ensure your fortune? You say you will see Aimee and me cared for, but words are pretty and cheap.”
She had valid points, and he had never considered the matter from such a frame of reference. “I want your land, yes. But do not doubt I will make certain you and Aimee want for nothing.”
With a shrug, Maddie raised her brows and slid her gaze across the room. Brock knew the evasive look well. He had not allayed her fear, but did not wish to argue the point further.
“Maddie, what else can I say? I’ve promised Aimee fine tutors to teach her every accomplishment of a young lady and a sufficient dowry to attract the right sort of husband. I will repair Ashdown Manor, see to your aunt in her dotage—”
“I desire all of that.” She scowled, shaking her head. “But your money cannot suddenly create trust. The quality of Aimee’s life—and mine—depends upon more than dancing masters and a new sofa. Besides, how can I know you would have my and my daughter’s interests at heart after the vows have been spoken and you no longer have a reason to care?”
Brock stared at her, uncomprehending. “Do you think me some melodrama villain who would lock you in your rooms with nothing but bread and water?” When she did not answer, Brock heaved an irritated sigh. “Good God, woman, I have no intent to seize such control of your life or to harm you. Ever. The property your father left you was never yours outright, so I can hardly see where that is an issue. So what else can you possibly object to?”
Anger dashed across her face. It was quickly fortified by a bolt of steel determination and defiance. Brock hadn’t seen that look often on Maddie’s face, but he had seen it often enough to know it portended nothing good.
“What else can I object to? Plenty, I promise you!”
She looked at him as if he were the stupidest beast she’d ever set eyes on. He loathed the expression and all it implied. Still, she thought him uneducated and lacking in refinements. He counted the country’s top engineers and even the Lord Mayor of London among his friends, damn it. Did she still see him as the ignorant stable hand he’d been five years ago, despite her protests to the contrary? Or did she have some other concern she had yet to voice?
Schooling the irritation from his features, he took her hands in his. “Help me to understand, Maddie. What else do you object to?”
At his soft inquiry, her mouth lost its combative set. Silent seconds passed. She tapped an absent finger to her chin. Her eyes told him her mind was far, far away in contemplation.
Finally, Maddie cleared her throat, the uncertainty gone from her lovely face. “We’ve never spoken of my marriage to Colin.”
Of all the things she might have said, that surprised Brock most. Why would she want to speak of her marriage now?
Before he could run through the possibilities in his mind, Maddie drew her legs up to her chest and placed her chin on her knees, as if defending herself. From what—or whom—did she think she needed protection?
“No, we never have spoken of it.” A curiosity he did not want to feel rang in his voice.
“It was not a love match,” she began haltingly. “He kept mistresses and was gone more than he was home. That suited me. Soon enough, I had Aimee to keep me busy. But there were times he wanted my…devotion, though he had none for me.”
Her lack of contentment in the marriage pleased him; Brock would be lying if he said otherwise. But what did the abysmal Sedgewick have to do with him? “I’m not certain I understand.”
“Colin came to hate me because I could not be the wife he wished. We had terrible rows.” Maddie sighed and bit her lip. “He resented you deeply.”
That Maddie had even told Sedgewick about him shocked Brock. “For taking your innocence, I presume?”
She hesitated, then nodded. “I don’t think he ever forgave me for coming to him unchaste. But before he died, the fighting grew worse.” She swallowed again, her hands now fidgeting, rubbing her arms as if she were cold. She would not meet his gaze.
“What—”
“Brock, men are allowed to display their anger toward their wives in a...physical manner. The law accepts such behavior, as does society. I cannot accept it, not for myself or Aimee.”
Physical? Brock’s mind whirled, spun. What the hell did she mean? He examined the possibilities until her words became clear. And the implications of her confession staggered him.
He surged to his feet. “He hit you?”
Maddie directed a wary gaze up at him, gray eyes seemingly frozen. From her grave expression, Brock knew he was right.
Fury bolted through him. Sedgewick was lucky to be dead; if he weren’t, Brock would have hunted him down and killed the bastard himself—slowly and painfully.
He sank down beside her, taking her shoulders in a loose grip. “Maddie... Damnation, I had no idea. But I would never, ever raise a hand to you. This I vow.”
Tears filled her eyes. Maddie thrust her gaze to the cottage’s modest white ceiling and sniffed, clearly trying hard not to let her tears fall.
She had always been so brave—beginning an affair of the heart with a servant, surviving a violent husband, enduring years of poverty while raising a carefree child. Even when he had threatened her and her freedom himself, she had refused to give in to his demands. Brock could not help but be amazed at her strength.
Cautiously, he leaned toward her, extending his reach, until he caught her in an embrace. As he held her silent form, Brock realized Maddie was more amazing as a woman than she’d been as a girl. Little wonder he was so caught up in her now.
After a long moment, Maddie leaned away. “I should explain. Mostly Colin belittled me. I-I did not...respond to him as he expected.”
Brock frowned, mulling over those words. Did Maddie mean to imply that she had not enjoyed her marriage bed?
Brock pushed aside his elation and focused on his deepening confusion. Maddie found sex pleasurable—that he knew. They had proven so again tonight. In fact, she was the most arousing, responsive woman he’d ever taken to his bed. She must have been cold for Sedgewick in particular.
Even so, the cad’s battering response was unforgivable.
“He hit you because you did not enjoy sharing his bed?”
Maddie bit her lip again. When she looked at him, her eyes were haunted yet challenging. “I think he was an unhappy man, and preferred to blame me. I was fortunate that he lashed out physically just once, toward the end of our union.”
Brow wrinkled in concentration, Maddie stared at the far wall, seeming to see nothing. Brock simply waited to see what she might say or do next.
“It was odd, really. During the incident, Colin’s anger only seemed to increase. After he had gone, I worried day and night he would return and unleash his fury on Aimee...”
Thank God the bastard hadn’t. But Brock was not prepared to let the matter be.
He touched Maddie’s hand in solace, only to realize she trembled. He took hold of her arms. They were cold and covered in chill bumps as he pulled her closer. “Tel
l me everything that happened.”
“It isn’t important,” she demurred. “I merely wanted you to understand—”
“I want to hear all of it,” he insisted. His need for the truth clashed with the knowledge that she needed his gentleness. He softened his voice. “What happened?”
Maddie swallowed and glanced down at her feet again. “A week before Colin died, he came to my room. It was very late. He had imbibed much too many spirits. He smelled of another woman’s perfume.”
“And he wanted his conjugal rights?”
“No. He wanted to tell me about his mistress and all the sexual acts she enjoyed performing on him and with him. He pointed out that since other women could respond to him, it was clearly my fault that I did not want him.” She hesitated. “He called me a cold fish, which he had done for nearly two years. But this time he became angry and...he struck me until I fell unconscious.”
Releasing a trembling sigh, she looked into the distance again, as if she were seeing into the past. Again, her stormy gray eyes clouded over with tears she refused to let fall. Brock’s fury warred with his need to hold her.
“Colin left that night and did not return,” she murmured. “I went to my father for help.” She laughed bitterly. “He asked me what I had done to earn Colin’s displeasure and suggested I be a better wife if I wished to avoid such incidents in the future.”
Maddie’s emotionless voice made Brock even more enraged. He’d always thought Lord Avesbury was a bitter, righteous excuse for a man. Maddie’s account of her father’s reaction proved that. How could any man think his own daughter deserved such callous treatment at her husband’s hands?
“I hid in my rooms until the worst of the bruises were gone,” Maddie continued. “The morning I emerged, it was to the news that Colin had somehow drowned in the Thames. I donned widow’s weeds, but I felt nothing but relief.”
Somehow, Maddie’s tale made Brock feel better... and worse. With memories of nothing but enmity, violence, and distrust in marriage, he understood her reluctance to wed again. He hadn’t exactly been tender and reassuring in his proposal. Brock sighed. He still resented her refusal to marry him. But as he took in the tangled skeins of Maddie’s auburn hair, tender red mouth, and uncertain gaze, he realized that his anger for her refusal had faded like a much-washed shirt.
It was possible she did not disdain him as much as she loathed the institution of marriage. He hardly blamed her.
Heaving a sigh, Brock could not take his gaze from the woman who had haunted him for five long years. Somehow he would overcome her fears and objections. For Maddie had never encountered a man as determined to wed a woman as he was to marry her.
Brock took her hand in his. “I’m sorry, Maddie. When I began buying Sedgewick’s markers, I knew within hours that he was a cad of the first order. I had no idea he had mistreated you so terribly.”
Maddie shook her head, tangled tresses kissing her bare shoulders. “You couldn’t have known.”
“Why did you marry him?”
Brock had been thinking the question. He certainly hadn’t meant to blurt it aloud. Indeed, Maddie looked frozen by the inquiry. Impatience for the answer burned his gut.
She hesitated, hugging her knees closer. Her eyes turned wide, skittish. “It’s hardly worth speaking of now—”
“I’d like to know.” Patience, he told himself, gritting his teeth. “Please.”
The reluctance did not leave her tense face. Uncertainty shuttered her gray eyes. The beautiful blush that had colored her skin during lovemaking had vanished, leaving her pale cheeks gleaming waxy in the dim light.
“Maddie?” He touched her cheek.
“My father...encouraged the match.” She paused, took a deep breath, cast a cautious glance his way. “At the time, the notion of marrying Colin seemed a sensible one.”
At the time. He mulled over her words, sorting through what he now knew of her marriage to Sedgewick. It was not a love match. She had never responded to her husband’s touch. The match had seemed merely sensible, in the manner of most ton marriages. Brock wondered why the union seemed so sensible after she had agreed to marry him. He’d suspect that Maddie had married because she’d been pregnant, except that, according to records, Aimee had been born nearly a full year after his departure from Ashdown Manor. But had Avesbury learned of their tryst and forced her to marry Sedgewick? Brock knew the old man had told Maddie that Brock had taken money to abandon her. After that, he was certain it hadn’t been terribly hard for Avesbury to convince her to wed someone of his choosing, of her own class.
The thought infuriated and frustrated Brock. All the wasted years and nights he had pined for her… But Maddie had been the one to suffer most.
“Again, I swear that I will never hurt you. But nothing has changed. I still want you for my wife.” I always have.
Brock swallowed, wondering if Maddie could hear the scream of the unspoken words between them.
Suddenly, she speared him with a direct gaze. “Can you say you love me?”
He hesitated, then dared to give the truth. “Yes.”
Maddie only wrapped her arms around her more tightly. “That is an easy word to utter when a fortune is at stake. Would you give up this grand railroad you have planned to prove it?”
The question caught him off guard. He searched for a blithe answer that would appease her while maintaining a shred of honesty—and he came up empty.
“As I thought.” Maddie pulled away and donned her dress as best she could by herself, side-stepping him when he tried to assist.
“Damnation!” he cursed. “Cropthorne and the others are depending upon me. There is an ungodly fortune to be made! The railroad will be of great value to our economy and our nation.”
“Well, then, God save the King.”
Brock sighed in frustration. “Maddie, I cannot stop this project now. I fought for the Royal assent and every investor. Nearly every farthing I’ve ever earned is tied up in this. If I bow out now, I will have nothing, not even my reputation. We’re laying the first of the track in less than a week.”
That news clearly took her aback. One look at her face told him that he’d said the wrong thing again.
“Laying track already? You’re awfully certain of my ultimate surrender.”
Brock sighed. He was handling this all wrong, he knew. “I must be. I have no other choice.”
She made for the door and threw a derisive glance over her shoulder. “Hell will freeze over before I marry you.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Mr. Taylor’s coach is here for you,” said Aunt Edith.
Sitting up slowly from her reclining position on the sofa, Maddie set aside the book she had tried all evening to read. Though she had been unaccountably weary all day, the mention of Brock brought her senses alert.
She peered up to find the older woman hovering over her, expression both speculative and uncommonly serious.
Maddie’s heart stopped, then began beating all too quickly. Brock had returned from Birmingham? Finally, after three long weeks. And he’d sent his coach, making his expectations clear.
His assumption should have bothered her. It did not.
Giddy anticipation, which she chastised herself for, mixed with alarm. Aunt Edith knew of her frequent sojourns in Brock’s coach? Certainly her aunt did not know what took place between she and Brock. But perhaps she guessed...
Maddie cast a cautious glance at the older woman, uncertain how to respond.
Edith spoke into her hesitant silence. “His coach had not come in over a fortnight, so I assumed you had finally convinced him that you did not wish to be his bride.”
Though phrased as a statement, her aunt sought answers as surely as the sun would rise tomorrow.
“No. He’s merely been attending to business elsewhere.”
“And now he’s returned for you,” said Edith. “Will you go?”
“Yes.” She had little choice.
Maddie rose to h
er feet.
She wished she could refuse Brock, wished that she did not yearn for him. But such a refusal was neither practical nor possible. She had given him the right to her body. In turn, he had awakened her passions, enslaved her with them.
Why else would she have difficulty thinking of anything other than him?
“Vema and I observed some time ago that you succeeded in seducing the man. She said you had the look of a well-satisfied woman. I observed that when he dined here with us some weeks ago. The air between you all but sizzled.”
Though Maddie knew her aunt was not blind or naïve, the reality that Edith and Vema knew she had been intimate with Brock made her flush. If they could guess even half of the exquisite pleasures Brock had introduced her to, Maddie feared she would perish from mortification.
“I shall take that pink color in your pretty cheeks as a yes.” Edith smiled and pushed a stray ribbon from her blue and lace bonnet away from her face. “Are you aware that you look at the man as if he’s both heaven and hell?”
Startled, Maddie’s gaze zipped to her aunt’s face. “I often think he is. I’m certain he is more one than the other. At the moment, I cannot say which.”
“My guess is that you have missed him these past weeks.” No hint of a question rang in her voice.
“I have,” she admitted softly.
These past three weeks had been a trial. She should at least be able to distrust a man who sought to use her for financial gain again. Yet, when Brock held her, he made the harsh truth disappear, made her think only of the care in his touch...
Even in his absence, he haunted her. Since their last parting, Maddie had spent countless hours wondering if he actually loved her, as he’d claimed. When he’d confessed his feelings, Maddie had known a desperate wish for his words to be true. And what did that say about her feelings for him?
Then she remembered all the reasons such a lie would benefit him and shoved the question aside.
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