By Love Undone (26 page)

Maddie sat in the chair Charles indicated. She had a fair idea of what he wanted to ask, and her own less than pleased reaction didn’t surprise her. He’d prefaced his first proposal to her in nearly the same way—and she’d accused
Quin
of being dull.

Back then, she’d been excited and nervous and thrilled, barely able to keep from throwing her arms about him when he’d finally asked the question. And then he’d kissed her, and she
had
thrown her arms about his neck. For a brief two weeks, she’d thought fairy tales really did come true—until she’d been proved very, very wrong.

Charles took her hands and knelt before her. “Maddie, we have been apart for five years, but I believe we were meant to be together. Will you do me the very great honor of becoming my wife?”

For a long time she looked at him, waiting for the thrill, the jangle of nerves, that had accompanied this moment five years earlier. Nothing but a tremor of uneasy nervousness ran through her. Perhaps she was trying too hard—or perhaps it was just that he was no longer the one she dreamed of spending her life with. “May I have some time to consider, Charles?” she asked. “A great deal has changed for me over the past few weeks.”

“Of course.” He smiled and stood. “But at least allow me one liberty.” Slowly he leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers.

Maddie smiled at him, even less moved, if possible, than she had been a moment ago. “Thank you for your patience, Charles. I will give you my answer tomorrow.”

He kissed her knuckles again. “I do love you, Maddie. I always have.” With a last look, he left the room.

Maddie sat back. Marrying Charles would solve all her problems. It didn’t matter that she didn’t feel any
thing toward him. Nothing close to what she felt when Quin merely looked in her direction. But he was marrying someone else. She would never hear Quin laugh again when she insulted him, and she would never feel his arms around her again, holding her, and never—

“Maddie?” Her father stepped into the room. “Where’s Charles?”

“He left.”

“He—what did he want?”

“To marry me.”

“That’s splendid!” For a moment he was silent, looking at her expectantly. “Then why did he go?”

She looked up at him. “I told him I would give him my answer tomorrow.”

The viscount opened and closed his mouth. “What precisely did you do that for?”

She heard the anger in his voice and tried to answer in a reasonable tone, however tense and uncertain and lonely she might feel. “I wanted a few hours to think about things, Papa.”

He folded his arms, his expression darkening even further. “To think about
what
things? He was good enough for you before. And being gone God-knows-where and doing Lucifer-knows-what for five years has hardly elevated your social standing.” Lord Halverston narrowed his eyes. “Or is it that you think you’re too good for all of us, now that the grand Duchess of Highbarrow has shown you some charity?”

“No! Of course not. Just give me until tomorrow to answer him, Papa. That’s all I ask.”

“Just so long as you give the correct answer, Madeleine.”

When he’d left and closed the door behind him, Maddie shut her eyes. Everything had been so much easier at Langley Hall, where she could be Miss Maddie and spend her evenings playing whist or word puzzles with
Mr. Bancroft and Squire John. But she couldn’t deny that she’d been lonely there, too—nor that when John Ramsey asked her to marry him, as she’d sensed he eventually would, she would have said no.

“Miss Willits?” Everett scratched politely at the door.

“Yes?” she asked halfheartedly, signing.

“Miss, a Mr. Rafael Bancroft is here to see you.”

Unexpected tears welled up in her eyes. Perhaps there was still some hope. She wiped at them hurriedly. “Show him in, please.”

A moment later die door opened, and Rafe strolled in past Everett. With his usual jaunty grin he bowed, pulling a bright bouquet of flowers from behind his back. “My lady.”

She mustered a smile, fighting more tears. “Hello, Rafe.”

He looked at her for a moment, and then thrust the bouquet at the butler. “Put these in water, will you?” he asked, and closed the door in Everett’s face. “Whatever is wrong? You look like a damned watering pot, Maddie.” He dropped into the chair beside her.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she muttered irritably, wiping at her eyes again. “I’m just glad to see you.”

“If I’m so popular with you, then you shouldn’t have left Bancroft House or my illustrious company,” he commented, reaching out to pluck a hard candy from the dish on the table.

“I had to.”

“Mm-hm,” he said around the candy, nodding. “Well, you can tell me all your troubles if you like, but it won’t do you a bit of good.
I’m
not the one you need to talk to.”

She looked at him sideways. “I don’t need to talk to anyone.”

Rafe sighed heavily. “Suit yourself, Maddie. I am ab
solutely not going to get pulled into the middle of this mess. I have enough problems of my own.”

“Like what?” she asked innocently. Something had been bothering him from the moment he’d arrived in London, but as far as she knew, he hadn’t confided in anyone.

“Like something I have no intention of telling you about,” he answered easily. “But I will tell you this. My brother has had his entire life planned out for him, and he’s been perfectly happy with it—until now. He’s never had his head twisted around before, Maddie, and you can’t expect him to be anything more than a complete idiot about it.” He patted her on the hand, and stood. “And that is all I intend to say on the subject.”

She looked at him, amused. “Is that why you came by? To inform me that you weren’t going to say anything?”

“Actually, it was to invite you to go riding with me in Hyde Park tomorrow morning. I believe Quin was supposed to go with you this morning, but he’s a bit…preoccupied.”

“So you’re fulfilling a familial obligation by offering to spend time with me?” she asked, hurt.

“I’m taking advantage of his stupidity.” Rate winked at her. “I’ll come by at seven. Do you have a mount here?”

“No.” As she was beginning to realize, she had nothing here. Nothing that meant anything, anyway. Not anymore.

“I’ll bring Sunny, or whatever her name is.”

Maddie grinned. “Honey.”

“Honey,” he repeated, half to himself. “
Sounds
like something fat old Prinny would own.”

That caught her attention. “What?”

He squinted one eye. “Nothing.”

“Rafe,” she warned, chuckling. “What did you say?”

The younger Bancroft leaned back against the door. “Well, apparently my daft brother searched all over London for the perfect mount for you—you know how he is—and Prinny—drat, I mean King Georgie—had the exact one Quin wanted.”

“So Quin bought Honey from King George, for me?”

“Well, not precisely. Prinny’s been after some architect to design a palace somewhere, and—”

“Brighton,” she supplied, becoming more intrigued with every disjointed sentence.

“Oh, then you
know
the story.”

“Rafe!”

“All right, all right. Prinny’s got this architect at Brighton, but he couldn’t get Parliament to put up enough blunt to keep him on the job. Quin agreed to make up the difference.”

Maddie sat and looked at him in disbelief, a delighted grin tugging at her lips. “
Quin helped King George keep John Nash on salary to renovate Brighton Pavilion, so 1 could have a horse to ride in London?
”

Rafe nodded. “Mm-hm.”

A peal of delighted laughter tumbled from her throat. “Oh, good grief! No wonder he didn’t say anything about it to me.”

“I say, that’s right. I’m not supposed to tell you, you know.” He winked again. “Tricked it out of me, you did. Honey and I will be by at seven.”

She stood and came forward to rise up and kiss him on the cheek. Before she could complete the gesture, he turned his head and touched his lips to hers. Startled, Maddie rocked back on her heels. “Rafe?”

“I’m not some castrate, you know,” he muttered, “and you’re quite impressive.” He pulled open the door. “Good God, he’s an idiot.”

“Rafe, this morning Charles Dunfrey asked me to marry him,” she blurted, flushing.

He closed the door again. “And?” he asked slowly, his light green eyes sharpening perceptibly.

That was what she liked so much about Rafe: he wasn’t nearly as daft as he liked to pretend. She wondered how it must be for him, to be a second son and have the Duke of Highbarrow for a father. “I’m to give him my answer in the morning.”

He drummed his fingers against the door for several moments. “You’ll be at the Garrington ball tonight, won’t you?” he asked finally.

She nodded.

His eyes held hers. “I’ll see you there, then.”

“Yes, I’ll see you there.”

After he left, the room seemed quiet and gloomy, and Maddie sat wondering why, precisely, she’d bothered to tell him about Charles. She sighed. Because he would tell Quin, of course. And because no matter what she’d said about wanting the marquis to leave her alone and do his duty by Eloise, she was still in love with him. “Oh, drat it all.”

Eloise sat in her coach and watched Rafael Bancroft retrieve his horse and ride away from Willits House. The damned interfering rat couldn’t seem to stay out of her affairs. No doubt he’d spent the entire visit with Maddie, trying to convince her to return to Bancroft House before Quin forgot about her.

Well, Maddie was not going to return to Bancroft House. Dunfrey had timed it perfectly, having her parents arrive in London before Quin’s stupid sense of honor could ruin everything. How he could possibly think pity was a respectable reason to marry a completely unsatisfactory person she had no idea. But something of that sort had been on his mind; she could see
it in his eyes when he looked at Maddie. And she didn’t see it in his eyes when he looked at
her
. That didn’t matter so much, though, as long as she ended being the one wearing his ring, and his title.

From his brief note of this morning, Dunfrey’s plan was working so far—but there were some things she didn’t dare leave completely to chance. Not with her future at stake. With a deep breath she lifted her umbrella and rapped on the roof of her coach. The driver started the team and turned into Willits House’s short drive. Another coachman jumped down from his perch to open the door and help her to the ground.

“Wait here,” she instructed, climbing the shallow steps.

The door swung open just as she reached it. “I am Lady Stokesley,” she announced, before the butler could inquire. “I am here to see Miss Willits.” She handed over a gilded calling card.

The butler, who had the ill manners to look flustered, showed her into the foyer. “If you’ll wait here a moment, my lady.”

She had barely enough time to note the inferior artwork lining the hallway before Maddie, accompanied by a plump woman who must have been her mother, appeared. “Maddie,” she said warmly, coming forward to take the smaller woman’s hands, “how pleased I am to find you here, back with your family. I never expected it.”

“We are pleased to have her here,” the older woman said. “I am Lady Halverston.”

“Oh, yes,” Maddie said belatedly, blushing. “Mama, Lady Stokesley. Eloise, my mother, Lady Halverston.”

“Charmed,” Eloise cooed, gripping the viscountess’s fingers. “Your daughter resembles you.”

Lady Halverston chuckled with unbecoming amusement. “Thank you for the compliment, Lady Stokesley.
Do come in.” She led the way into the drab morning room.

It seemed Maddie was a better match for Dunfrey than she’d realized, Eloise thought. “I cannot stay,” she said hastily, contemplating with horror the idea of actually taking tea with the woman. “I thought Maddie might wish to accompany me on a picnic.”

Maddie looked at her, something almost suspicious touching her vapidly innocent gaze for a moment. “Well, thank you, Eloise, but I really don’t—”

“Hush, Maddie,” Lady Halverston interrupted. She put her hand on Eloise’s gloved one. “We’ve been having a little difficulty adjusting to Maddie’s return,” she confided with a smile. “I think a bit of fresh air with some friends will be just the thing to restore her spirits.”

Not if I have anything to do with it
. Lady Stokesley smiled warmly. “Say no more. Come with me, Maddie, my dear.”

The girl hesitated again, glancing at her mother, then shrugged. “I’ll get my bonnet,” she said, and hurried out the door.

“Thank you for your kindness to my daughter,” the viscountess said. “We never expected to see her again, and certainly not under such pleasant circumstances.”

“Yes,” Eloise agreed. “I have already come to think of her as one of my dearest friends. And Quinlan—that is, Lord Warefield, my betrothed—speaks very highly of her.”

“Lord Warefield
does
seem fond of Maddie. I think he was none too pleased when she left.”

“We’re all sorry to see her leave.”

Maddie hurried back into the morning room, her gloves and a pink bonnet clutched in one hand.

“Ah, there you are, my dear. Let’s be off, shall we?” a291/>Eloise smiled as she led the way out to her coach. With the extremely helpful friends she had selected to join them, this was going to be so easy, it was almost pitiful. Almost.

T
he Duchess of Highbarrow sat in her private room, sewing.

Her favorite chair had been placed before the large window which overlooked the quiet street in front of the mansion, but she had no desire to look outside. She knew very well what was going on out there. A rather annoying clattering and clanging, which had begun below some forty minutes earlier, gave way to a rattling, clopping sound, and then slowly faded away into silence.

Victoria’s hands stilled in her lap, and she sighed. She also knew what the absence of sound meant: her sons were gone again.

It made sense. Quin had obviously stayed to keep an eye on Maddie, and Rafael had stayed because of Quin—and Maddie. Once she left, Quin spent an hour stomping about and pretending he wasn’t in a black temper. By teatime he had sent for his footmen at Whiting House and moved his things back home. And as he had over the past few years, Rafe went to stay with his brother.

“Victoria?” The bellow echoed up from the hallway, the duke’s method of avoiding the necessity of asking the servants for the whereabouts of his wife.

She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to, for Beeks
would immediately inform his employer that she’d spent the afternoon in her private rooms and had asked not to be disturbed.

A moment later the door opened. “Victoria?”

“Yes?” She picked out her last row of stitches and began them over again. Apparently she hadn’t been paying very much attention to her work. She
had
paid attention to several other interesting things in the Bancroft household, though, and for the duke’s sake, he had better realize them as well—and soon.

“Where’re the randy idiots and their mopsie?”

“If you are referring to our sons and Miss Willits, they are gone.”

He closed the door and went to look out the window. “Gone where?”

“Maddie’s parents came to see her, and she left with them. Quinlan and Rafael went to Whiting House. You just missed them.”

For a moment the duke said nothing as he gazed outside. “Good,” he muttered finally.

The duchess set aside her sewing and looked up at her husband. “And why is that good?”

He glanced back at her. “They were too damned noisy. It was like having a flock of geese about.”

“And it’s much better now—so quiet you can hear the minute hand of the grandfather clock on the landing?”

Slowly His Grace turned around. “Did you like all that nonsense?”

“I liked having my sons home. We don’t see them very often, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“We’re busy folk.”

Victoria shook her head. “Not that busy. They don’t like coming around, now that they don’t have to be here.”

“I suppose you’re going to blame that on me. Well,
I expect guests under my roof to abide by my laws. Always have.”

“I know,” she said quietly.

“And always will. If that’s too much for them, then they have no business being here. Glad they’re gone.” He nodded, as though attempting to convince himself of his own sincerity, and stalked out of the room again.

Occasionally Victoria wondered what would happen if she pushed against his “laws” to the point of open defiance. She’d come close several times, usually with regard to Rafe and his high spirits, but somehow the duke had always managed to deflect or ignore the attack. Lately it had begun to occur to her that his avoidance was no accident—and in a way, that was comforting. He wanted her there, even if the only way he could show it was by ignoring her direct questions and pronouncements.

The duchess picked up her sewing again. Such an obtuse method of rule couldn’t last forever, and whether Lewis Bancroft realized it or not, his kingdom had already begun to crumble at the edges. A bright, fiery sprite had entered their lives, and nothing would ever be the same. She glanced out the window toward the light blue, cloud-patched sky. Her sons would certainly never be the same. One of them in particular.

The mutterings began well before Maddie arrived. Quin pretended not to hear them, while carefully tracing their source.

By now they’d spread across the Garrington ballroom, invading nearly every nook and cranny, but the center of the disturbance seemed to be a large group of his most intimate acquaintances. He stopped beside a potted plant and watched them for a moment as they chatted and laughed and managed to exclude all social inferiors by not even noting their presence.

As usual, the main attraction of the group seemed to be his second cousin, and as she leaned sideways to whisper into another intimate’s ear, Quin decided he had several rather pointed questions to ask her.

“Eloise?” he said, strolling out from his hiding place and stopping beside her. “I hadn’t expected to see you so early in the evening. You look lovely, as always.”

She held out her hand for him to take. “It looked to be a sad crush, and I didn’t want to have to wade in through the mud and horseshit.” Her faithful circle of companions laughed, and she snapped her fan playfully. “Well, it’s true, you know.”

Quin smiled, unamused, and tucked her hand around his arm. “Might I have a word with you? And a waltz, of course, if you’ve still one unclaimed.”

“I always leave one for you. Excuse me, ladies. My future husband would like to speak to me—in private.”

The two of them strolled toward the wide doors that opened out onto the balcony, and with a glance into the half darkness, they stepped outside.

“Ah,” Eloise murmured. “Alone at last.” With another look around them and down at the darkened garden below, she slipped her hands up on either side of his face, and leaned up to kiss him slowly and deeply.

It was the first time she’d exhibited any kind of passion toward him, and at the moment he wasn’t particularly interested. Not in her, anyway. “What was that for?” he asked as they parted.

“Just to remind you that our marriage will be more than a union of names and wealth. I think you’d forgotten that.”

Recently his views of what a marriage should be had changed. “When did you decide that?” he asked.

She reached up to touch his cheek again, apparently undaunted by his cool tone. “Oh, Quin, we’ve known one another for so long. Sometimes I think it would have
been better if our parents had kept us apart until it was time for us to marry.”

Quin nodded. “You favor an element of mystery, I suppose?”

“No, not really. But sometimes I almost believe you think of me as a sister, or something equally awful.”

“I don’t, Eloise. But I do think of you as a friend.” Or rather, he had, until the last few days. Quin lifted her hand away from his face and held it. “And as a friend, I’d like an explanation.”

Her delicate brow furrowed. “An explanation of what?”

Quin looked down at her for a moment, wondering when, precisely, he’d ceased to think of her as a potential mate. Probably the moment he had set eyes on Madeleine Willits. “Did you go somewhere with Maddie today?”

She yanked her hand free. “I’m trying to seduce you, and you
still
ask me about her?”

“Eloise, she’s here in London because of me,” he returned flatly. “She’s my responsibility. I have an obligation to look—”

“She is
not
your responsibility. She is her own responsibility. You didn’t ruin her, Quin. You had nothing to do with it.”

That wasn’t exactly true anymore, but as he didn’t want to begin a shouting match, he nodded. “All right. But tell me what happened today.”

“Nothing happened. I invited her on a picnic, as we’d discussed, and—”

“
We
discussed taking her on a picnic,” Quin agreed. “With mutual friends attending.”

“Oh, Quin, don’t you see? You already spend nearly every day with her. You’re not helping her by accompanying her everywhere. Besides, everything was fine. She did very well.”

He continued to watch her, looking for any sign that she could actually be as devious as he had begun to suspect. “Not according to what I’ve been hearing tonight.”

“What have you been hearing?” she asked, meeting his gaze evenly.

She could be telling the truth, he supposed, and truly knew nothing of the widely circulating rumors. But for the first time, he doubted her word. “I heard that she suggested you and your female friends leave so she could enjoy the company of Lord Bramell and Lionel Humphries in private.”

Eloise clapped her hand over her mouth, but the expression in her eyes wasn’t all that surprised. “Nothing of the sort happened! John and Lionel were there, of course, because you know they always attend such things, but—I mean—when Lady Catherine Prentice arrived, we all went to see her new setter puppy, but Maddie was alone with John and Lionel for only a moment. Two at most.”

“You shouldn’t have left her alone.”

“She wanted to stay behind, Quin. I couldn’t drag her across the park, for heaven’s sake.”

“Damnation,” he swore softly. Maddie knew better. Anything she did—anything—whether innocent or not, would be viewed in the worst light possible by her fellows. To stay behind, alone with two single gentlemen, was worse than stupid. And Maddie wasn’t stupid. Far from it.

But neither was Eloise. He looked at her speculatively. If his suspicions were correct, Eloise had a great deal of explaining to do. In all fairness, though, his mind didn’t exactly work to perfection where Miss Willits was concerned, and he had no proof. Blind in love with Maddie or not, he couldn’t accuse Lady Stokesley until he knew for certain that she was guilty of sabotage.

“Just remember, Quin, in a month’s time you won’t be able to claim poor Maddie as your responsibility any longer.” She leaned up against him, her short blond curls tickling his cheek. “That will be me.”

“I remember.” He wondered why he hadn’t always found her so self-centered and cloying. “We’d best go back inside, or we’ll be starting some rumors of our own.”

He escorted her back to their group of friends and spent the next hour dividing his attention between polite conversation and keeping an eye on the ballroom doorway. Rafe had said Maddie would be attending. He’d also said a few other things, at a rather high volume, and Quin intended to take care of those issues as soon as Miss Willits arrived.

Finally, late enough that she’d likely fought against coming, Maddie and her parents arrived. Quin’s breath caught at the sight of her, glorious in green and gray. He watched her take stock of the room and the other guests, and he knew precisely when she decided she didn’t want to be there.

“Excuse me for a moment,” he said, to whomever happened to be listening, and started across the room toward her. He couldn’t help himself. He craved her like he breathed air.

Rafe, obviously making use of his military skills, damn him, reached her first. “Good evening, my dear.” He took her hand. “So pleased you could join us this evening.”

Quin made a valiant attempt not to break into a full-on charge. It would never do for the Bancroft brothers to begin a tug-of-war over her in the middle of the ballroom. He stopped beside her. “Miss Willits.” He smiled, stealing her hand from Rafael’s grip and lifting it to his lips. “You look…stunning.”

“Thank you, my lord,” she said, meeting his eyes
and then looking quickly away. “Do let go of my hand.”

He complied reluctantly. It seemed like days, rather than hours, since he had seen her last, and he wanted—needed—to touch her. “May I have a waltz with you?”

“I don’t think you should,” she said, still gazing determinedly at the punch bowl on the refreshment table.

“I do,” he answered.

“No.”

“Yes.” As usual when he argued with her, Quin began to feel as if he was beating his head against a brick wall.

“Better do as he says, Maddie,” Rafe put in, for once helpful. “But save one for me as well.”

She smiled and looked at him. “Of course I will.”

Quin didn’t like that. Blast it, now he wanted to pummel people insensible just because she was smiling at them. Somehow, somewhere, he had completely lost control—and the oddest part was, he didn’t mind it all that much.

Before he could ask her what in God’s name had happened at the picnic, the orchestra began playing again, and he had to excuse himself to dance with his designated partner. For a moment he thought Maddie would have to remain alone beside her parents at the end of the room, but the Duchess of Highbarrow appeared from nowhere and led the Willits family off for a chat.

Whatever orders His Grace had given his wife regarding her assisting Maddie, she seemed to be ignoring them. He would have to call on her tomorrow and thank her: she’d just seen to it that Maddie would have partners for any dance she wished.

And so he danced a quadrille with that young lady, and a country dance with this one, and the entire time he kept his attention on Maddie. When Rafe claimed her hand for the first waltz of the evening, he barely man
aged to wipe the scowl from his face before he went to fetch Eloise.

“Rafael seems quite fond of Maddie,” Eloise purred, as they circled grandly about the crowded room. “Do you think he might offer for her?”

“No,” he answered sharply, glancing at the smiling couple again.

“No, I suppose not,” she agreed smoothly. “Whatever Rafael’s standards might be, your father would never allow such a poor match.”

That caught his attention again. “What do you know of Rafe’s standards?” he asked.

“Oh, just speculation,” she returned. “I have to admit, though, they do look rather good together.”

Yes, they did. Tall and muscular, with slightly tousled hair the color of ripened wheat and an easy grin made a little lopsided by the scar on his cheek, Rafe would look good with anyone. And Maddie, tonight wearing Quin’s favorite gown because it brought out the gray of her eyes, her auburn hair piled high with curling wisps framing her face, was absolutely mesmerizing.

“So you think her a poor candidate for marriage to a peer?” he pursued, wondering how she would reply.

“Despite your commendable efforts, my dear, how could I think anything else?”

Quin nodded, remembering Eloise throwing tea at a servant, and Maddie slipping down to the kitchen to patch him up. “Then you were being kind to her only for my sake?” he continued.