Instead, her face had seemed so cold and unmoving, she might have been carved from stone.
Why wouldn’t she be happy with her independence?
She bloody well should be. Instead, she’d behaved unexpectedly, as if... well, as if she did not want freedom.
The thought staggered Brock. Was that possible, or wishful thinking?
He considered the conundrum from every angle. Again and again, he came back to the theory that Maddie did not desire his departure from her life anymore.
But why? Perhaps because, despite everything that had passed between them, she cared?
He found that thought seductive, alluring as hell, just like Maddie herself. Still, if she wanted him to stay, why did she not say so?
The drone of activity on the street resounded like a buzzing in Brock’s head. He blocked it out, certain the truth lay just out of his grasp.
Why would a woman not tell a man she cared? Most obviously because she thought him beneath her. But if she cared nothing for him, wouldn’t she have been elated with her freedom? One would think so.
If she wanted to be by his side but did not tell him she loved him...why would she keep her sentiment to herself? Certainly not because she believed he did not reciprocate her feelings. Remembering the hurt swirling in her gray eyes when he’d given her freedom, he paused. Could she believe exactly that? Brock frowned. Was it possible Maddie thought—even for an instant—that he did not love her?
She had made the same assumption five years ago. Why not now?
Brock tried to imagine their earlier conversation from Maddie’s perspective. Immediately, the truth hit him. She had viewed his gift of freedom as another abandonment on his part. Maddie believed he would leave her alone and pregnant again.
Foolish, stubborn woman! But he’d been stupid, as well. Instead of assuming he knew what she wanted, he should have simply asked.
Now, with a little luck—and a great deal of devotion—he could win her back again. Even earn her love.
But she would have to believe he had not married her for the Warwickshire land.
The thought rocketed through his head. Brock tried to push it away, duck it. Once there, however, the notion took root and expanded.
What proof did he have to give Maddie of his love, beyond his words? None. None at all. Repeatedly, she had accused him of pursuing her for her land, marrying her for the money the railroad would bring him. Maddie believed he had put money above her once and would do so again.
And now he knew exactly the means by which he could prove her wrong.
Brock hesitated. Such a step would change his fate—his entire life—forever. He sighed, wishing he could pace. A glance out the window proved he was still miles from home.
Still, the choice was clear: Continue and live a life filled with pounds and pence, or seize the opportunity to claim Maddie once and for all.
Peace settled over Brock instantly. There was no choice, not really. Fortunes could be acquired. He’d proven he had the determination and wits to amass one already. Maddie, however, was irreplaceable.
Smiling, Brock stopped the hack driver and directed the man to his office. He had a few letters to write...
#
The following afternoon, Maddie sat upon the sofa in her worn parlor in Hampstead. Misery had never felt so terrible, never seeped into every joint, roiled her stomach, caused such heartache.
Despite the fact she knew it was abject stupidity, she loved Brock. She had loved him as an idealistic girl who believed love could conquer all. She loved him now as a woman who knew love was imperfect and sometimes caused pain.
But he did not love her. That fact hurt, just as badly as the realization that she could not make him love her in return.
Back in her own home and after the hot journey to the country, Aimee had been hiding her yawns behind her little hands. Though Maddie would have appreciated the diversion her daughter always provided, she put Aimee down for a nap. Amazingly, the girl had fallen asleep immediately.
Vema was communing outside with her garden, as was her wont. And Aunt Edith, upon hearing of the generous account Brock had established for the refurbishment of Ashdown Manor, had immediately left for London to visit friends and look at all the latest fashion in furniture.
And while Maddie knew the house needed a great deal of work, she could not muster the energy. The resulting sadness from Brock’s most recent abandonment sapped too much of her energy to spend any elsewhere.
Maddie rose, intending to stare aimlessly out the window once more, when she heard a shuffle from the foyer. A raised voice—a man’s voice—followed.
Brock?
Stomach tightening with anticipation, Maddie ran to the parlor door. She opened it only to find Cousin Gavin filling the portal, wearing a thunderous scowl. Disappointment stung Maddie, and she hoped the surprise rolling through her would crush her uncharitable sentiment.
“What in the hell is happening here?” Gavin barked.
Maddie faltered, shrugging. “Well...I’m merely spending a quiet afternoon at home.”
“You can spend a quiet year at home, if you like,” Gavin interrupted. “What I am trying to determine is the meaning of this?”
Her cousin held up a missive written in a scrawl of black ink on thick vellum. Instantly, she recognized Brock’s penmanship. She frowned, feeling the absurd need to hold her breath.
“While I see it is from Brock, I know nothing of that letter.”
“You have no notion what it says?” To say that Gavin’s expression held disbelief was an understatement.
“Should I?”
“He did not tell you?” Before she could answer, Gavin held up both his hands. “No. He must have said something. You are his wife.”
Yes, she was his wife, but so far in name only. And the fact that Brock had informed Cropthorne of some great news or event, rather than her, told Maddie she would never be anything but a wife in name only. Yet more proof that he did not love her.
Hiding her embarrassment, forcing down her hurt, she returned to the sofa, gesturing to Gavin to sit. “I’m afraid Brock has told me nothing. Perhaps if you spoke with him yourself...”
“I’ve tried. He is nowhere, apparently.” Gavin leaned forward and peered at her as if in examination. “He told you nothing?”
Maddie wished he would cease asking the same question that would only result in the same discomforting answer.
“Nothing, Gavin. Truly.”
Oddly, Gavin smiled. Maddie wished she felt like smiling. At the moment, however, she doubted less than twenty years would pass before she experienced that urge again.
“Do you love him?” her cousin asked suddenly.
The question took Maddie aback. Why would he ask something so personal? How could she answer and bare her heart to her cousin, particularly when he must know Brock did not love her in return?
“It’s really of no concern.”
Gavin held up a protesting finger. “Oh, but it is. If Brock is going to sacrifice the fortune we all could make on the railroad because he loves you, I think it’s fair to know if his love is misplaced.”
The man might as well have been speaking Greek. Because he loves you... Shock yawned. Hope began to bloom in her tightening stomach. Shaking her head, she quickly squelched the sentiment. Likely, her cousin was mistaken.
Maddie peered at Gavin, beyond confused.
“I-I’m sorry, but I do not understand... Brock will never sacrifice anything with regard to the railroad. The land is his now, through marriage, so he may complete the track. The project has already broken ground. Most of his entire fortune is involved in this—”
“Apparently, he is willing to lose it.” Gavin regarded her with a direct black gaze, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
Impossible! Still, Maddie’s stomach jolted with shock.
Gavin went on. “He wrote me yesterday to inform me that he is ceasing production of the T & S Railroad. He returned my invest
ment money.”
Maddie sat up, more confused now than ever. “You’re certain?” At Gavin’s nod, she asked, “Did he say why?”
“He said that because the Warwickshire land was yours, you should be allowed to decide how it would be used.”
Maddie leaned forward, mouth agape. “He wrote that?”
Hope curled in her belly.
Gavin nodded. “He also wrote that he loved you more than his fortune.”
He was willing to prove in the most expensive way possible that he valued her more than all the money he had once left her for? Stunned and joyful, Maddie bounced to her feet. Tears wet her eyes, stung her nose, tightened her throat. She covered her face with her hands, ecstatic.
“He loves me!” she whispered.
“Yes, he wrote that,” Gavin said impatiently. “What does that have to do with giving up the railroad?”
“Everything!” Her voice shook as happiness multiplied.
He loved her, more than his ambition. More than money. And he’d proven it beyond a doubt.
Why, then, had he abandoned her again? If he loved her, how could he want this civilized separation?
Perhaps he did not want it, but rather thought that she did. After all, she had been trying to break free of him for months.
She had to find Brock now. Sooner than now. Maddie rose and raced for the door.
“Wait!”
She turned back to her cousin.
“Madeline, you both are speaking in riddles!” Gavin sighed in frustration. “Why should he imagine that giving up a bloody fortune would have any impact on whether he loved you?”
Maddie found she could not wipe the wide smile off her face. “Perhaps someday you will understand that love does not always make sense.”
With Gavin’s snort of disbelief in her ears, Maddie ran out of the parlor, making plans.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Come midnight, I will lie in Paddington and wait for you.
Madeline
Brock read the missive again, doing his best to ignore the drumbeat of his heart. He glanced up at the young messenger. “Is she awaiting a reply?”
“No, sir. She said you would understand.”
Indeed, he believed he did—or at least he hoped he did. Maddie, upon learning that he valued her more than money, had freed her heart to love him. Could it be true?
He smiled, hope infusing him.
After pressing a groat into the youth’s hand, Brock withdrew his pocket watch. Eleven o’clock. Just enough time.
He raced toward his townhouse’s front door just as Jack walked in. “In a hurry?”
Brock grinned. “Now that we no longer have a railroad to build, I’m going to woo my wife. I have plenty of time...”
Rolling his eyes, Jack stepped inside. “Did you hear from the investors?”
“Indeed. Most are angry as hell.” Brock shrugged. “They will recover, I’m certain. Some have asked to purchase my Royal assent...and Maddie’s land.”
“Are you selling?”
“That’s up to Maddie. But generally I’d say, not a chance.” He smiled. “She is too important to me to ever risk losing again.”
In one of the few fatherly actions of his life, Jack hugged his son. Brock was grateful for his sire’s understanding.
“Go claim her. And hold on tight. I lost your mother so soon, before I learned the importance of living every day for such love. Now that you know—”
Brock clapped his father on the shoulder, “I’ll be sure to hold her forever.”
If she would truly have him.
The next hour was a blur of night, stars, wind, and wishes. They all passed his consciousness, danced along his senses, along with utter impatience. He could scarcely wait to see Maddie, to hold her. It had been weeks since he’d made love to her...
Forcing his mind down another path, Brock was relieved when he and his winded mount finally arrived in front of the darkened Paddington cottage. He withdrew his pocket watch. Two minutes past midnight. God willing, Maddie would still be lying here, waiting for him.
Brock bolted to the door and thrust his way inside, shoving the door out of his path. A look down the foyer into the breakfast nook proved empty. Charging across the empty space, Brock sprinted around the corner, into the parlor.
And there lay Maddie, draped on the plush rose settee wearing her wedding ring, her stockings—and nothing else.
Brock felt his mouth go dry and his body spring to attention.
“I see you received my missive,” Maddie all but purred.
“Indeed,” he choked. “I have a hundred things to say to you, but I can hardly think with you looking so enticing.”
Maddie smiled. “Must we talk now?”
The seductive note in Maddie’s voice nearly undid Brock’s good intentions. He sighed. “Unfortunately, yes.”
Vowing he would soon deal with the disappointment on Maddie’s face, Brock scanned the room and found a woolen lap blanket. He grabbed it and shook it flat before draping it over Maddie, concealing the vanilla and jasmine scented skin that was quickly driving rational thought from his brain.
His lovely wife pouted. “And here I thought, perhaps, that you wanted me.”
He groaned. “Without a doubt, I do.”
Maddie sat up, her face serious now. “I also thought, perhaps, that you...loved me.”
Erasing the empty space between them with two steps, Brock sank to the settee and swept his arms around Maddie. “You should have no doubts upon that score, my darling wife. I love you more than...anything. More than I thought possible.” He squeezed her shoulders. “More than I ever realized.”
Maddie smiled, the expression so beautiful, so luminous with happiness, Brock’s breath caught in his throat. He wanted to see her this happy each and every day. The fact that his love made her happy...well, he swelled with pride and need—and sublime devotion.
“And I love you,” she murmured.
The happiness he had hoped for, had been saving forever it seemed, burst inside of him. Brock grinned so widely, he felt sure his smile matched hers. “Yes, but have you always loved me?”
Slowly, Maddie nodded. “Even when I wished I didn’t.”
He brought his palm up to cradle her cheek. “I’ve loved you from the day I met you.”
At his simple words, Maddie’s face fell into a mass of tears. “Why did we waste so many years apart?”
Brock hugged her, doing his best to soothe her with a soft hand at her nape. “I never should have left you at Ashdown after making love to you that first time. I should have insisted we marry and brought you to London with me.”
Brock could see the questions hovering in her eyes, but she did not give them voice. She trusted him now and wanted to put the past behind them! God, he felt like the luckiest man alive.
But he also wanted to explain.
“It was me, Maddie. I left you with your father because I had nothing. I knew I was going to live in squalor. I was too ashamed to take you with me, and I’m so damned sorry,” he whispered. “My pride came between us. I believed I was not good enough for you as I was.”
Maddie gasped, and more tears fell. She curled her arms around his neck and squeezed him. “I never cared where you were born, or to whom. It did not matter where you lived. I only wanted the wonderful man I fell in love with to love me in return.”
“Instead, I made you believe I’d betrayed you by accepting your father’s money, and I hate that. I bloody wish I had refused his insulting offer. I wanted to. But I wanted the money so badly. With it, I knew I could soon amass a fortune you could be proud of.”
“And you did.” Her eyes were a soft gray, full of pride.
“At a terrible cost. I spent five years without you, without Aimee—”
At his words, Maddie sobbed harder, gray eyes like a rainstorm, intense and vivid. “I should have told you about her long ago. I was so afraid, but I did you both a terrible disservice—”
“When you
conceived, you did not know where to find me in London. I realize that now,” he assured her, voice soft.
“But later, when we became lovers again...”
“I threatened you.”
“Yes, but even after I knew you would not send us to Fleet, I kept my secret. I-I…” Maddie shook her head as if looking for words, “I feared you had the same contempt for me as Colin had. I was angry with you as well for not realizing that I married him because I had no choice.” She sighed. “That seems foolish, I realize—”
“I was too blinded by jealousy and revenge to do so.”
“Brock, please let me apologize. Aimee is your daughter, and you had the right to know. I denied you that, and I am sorry.” She peered up at him, gray eyes drenched with new tears, no longer a siren, but a woman—with a woman’s heart. “I was afraid to tell you about Aimee. Afraid of your wealth, of your anger, that you would take Aimee from me or use her against me—”
“Shhh.” He held her close, soothing her. “We made some poor choices. Can you forgive me?”
“Of course. I only hope you find it within you to do the same for me.”
“It’s done,” he vowed. “And we have nothing but the future ahead of us.”
Maddie frowned. “Yes, a future without a railroad, if I’m to understand Gavin correctly.”
Brock shrugged. “I no longer need to build it. I realized that building it may make me wealthier, but it will never change who I am or where I came from. The only respect I need in business is that I give myself.” He grimaced sheepishly. “That is something I have never done.”
“You’re right.” She held him tighter. “How clever you are!”
“No. It took me far too long to realize that I could not force the ton to accept me. Now, I no longer care if they do. I know my ability to make money. And wherever there is a nobleman desperate for new funds, I will be there. I shall make us a new fortune doing it.”
“Your money is truly gone?”
“Most of it, yes.” He cocked a teasing brow at her. “Are you disturbed by that fact?”
“Indeed!” she sat up, clutching the blanket above her breasts. “Have we not both had enough of poverty?”
Shayla Black Page 30