To Win His Wayward Wife (16 page)

She barely heard his words as she looked down at her trembling hands that were holding the blanket barely under her chin.  Her knuckles had gone white, either from rage or holding the blanket too tight, she didn’t know. He told her the night before he’d only find pleasure in their marriage bed if she did. Had he said that only because he was trying to get her to trust him? “You lying bastard,” she spat.

He leaned forward and firmly grabbed her chin between his thumb and index finger. “I didn’t lie to you,” he said fiercely.

“Yes, you did,” she yelled, swatting at the hand he used to hold her chin. “Everything you’ve done the past few days was all done in an effort for me to trust you so you could steal me away without catching notice.”

“In a way, yes,” he admitted, leaning back against the red velvet squabs. “I was trying to get you to trust me and go home with me. However, I did not plan for your lovesick suitor to enter the picture. How did he know you were there anyway?” he mused with a pointed look in her direction.

“I don’t know,” she said sharply, fire burning in her eyes. “But don’t you dare accuse me of telling him or having some other connection to him. I haven’t willingly laid eyes on the man in longer than I care to remember.”

“I’m not,” he said quietly. “He probably bribed a servant. Even if he’s denser than a rock, he has the blunt to fund a minor investigation.”

“Then won’t he just find us wherever you’re taking me?” she asked, agitated.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “First, since we left in the dead of night it’s doubtful we’ve been followed. And second, if he does start searching for you at my estates he’ll never find you?”

“Why?” she asked, shivering. So many questions were running through her head. Was he going to hide her in the attic? Was he going to chain her to the wall and lock her in the dungeon? Was he going to kill her and cut her body up into little pieces and scatter her across the countryside? She shook her head. She had to quit reading Brooke’s gothic novels; they gave young girls ideas that should never enter anyone’s imagination.

He smiled a smile that made her blood unsure if it wanted to turn to ice or course through her veins like a racehorse. “Because nobody knows I own it.”

“And what does that mean?” she demanded, scanning his unsettling facial expression.

“Nobody will be able to find it.”

“What do you mean nobody will be able to find it?” she demanded again, feeling uneasy.

He shrugged. “It’s not easy to locate, that’s all.”

“You mean it’s secreted off?” She’d heard of houses that were in such desolate places people could scour the land and never find what they were looking for. Her heart sank. Was he taking her to a place like that?

“You could say that.”

“You’re a bastard,” she repeated for good measure. He truly intended to kidnap her.

He leaned forward again. “That fact was established nearly thirty years ago,” he said with a smug smile.

Chapter 17

Benjamin had never felt so relieved to get out of a carriage in his life. The first six hours had been wonderful; the last two, not so much. A viper would have been better company. After finding that letter from Robbie, he’d been unable to sleep. That little weasel knew right where they were and he didn’t like that one bit. Not that he was afraid Madison would run off with him. He was more afraid Robbie would try to get her to and when she refused, he’d turn violent. He’d been around Robbie enough during his month in America to know if he needed to, he’d use force to get what he wanted. Benjamin had seen him use both physical force and emotional manipulation to get girls to bend to his will. Which is probably what he did with Madison.

He’d probably used one of his famous, “You say you love me, why not show me?” or “How can you deny the love between us? You can’t, I know it, so let’s go show it,” or some other ridiculous line he’d make up and use to play on a woman’s emotions and get her to lift her skirt. He had a way about him. First, he’d use his charm. Then if that hadn’t worked, he’d shoot those guilt arrows squarely at a person. And if neither of those methods got the desired result, he’d use physical force. The very thought sickened him. Madison was such a good person, how could he have taken advantage of her that way? And why had she let him? She’d stood up to him just fine. Why didn’t she stand up to that ass? Love. That was the reason. That’s the reason so many intelligent people do stupid things. Things like pay someone to send a whole family off the continent.

He knew now she didn’t love Robbie any longer. No, now she seemed to have transferred all that emotion directly onto Andrew. Lucky man. The hero worship in her eyes when she spoke of him or teased him was enough to make Benjamin want to rip his own hair out. He always had a way of finding Madison
after
she’d fallen in love. Now that he had her all to himself in the middle of nowhere, perhaps his luck would change and she’d fall in love with him.

But first she was going to be angry.

“Show me to my dungeon,” she said fiercely, clutching her blanket for dear life.

He shook his head. “You’re not going to a dungeon. You’ll stay in my room.”

“Your room, dungeon, same thing,” she said pertly. “Just show me where I’m to be locked away so that I may lie upon my bed and dream up all the ways you could torture me.”

“I’m not going to torture you,” he hissed.

“You already are,” she retorted. “If you take me back right now, I might forgive you.”

“No,” he ground out, steering her into the house. “I’m protecting you. Until I’m informed he’s sitting in his mother’s family room drinking tea every afternoon at three thirty, you'll be staying here.”

“And what if I don’t want to?” she asked defiantly.

He let out a sharp bark of laughter. “You don’t have a choice. The nearest town with a mail coach that passes through is more than ten miles away.”

“I could walk there if I have to,” she informed him as he led her down the blue carpeted hallway.

“You don’t even know which direction,” he said with a snort.

She jerked her arm from his grasp. “I don’t need to. I’d rather wander lost in the forest than be stuck here with you, Gateway.”

Fire boiled inside him. “I told you not to call me that,” he snapped, piercing her with his eyes. He detested being called by his title more than ‘Your Grace’. “You may call me Benjamin or nothing. Understood?”

“Understood, nothing,” she confirmed with a laughing smile.

He closed his eyes for a moment. He wasn’t in the mood to laugh. But he’d inadvertently set that up just right for her and he couldn’t blame her for taking advantage. “Now, this room,” he opened the door and nearly had to drag her inside, “is the drawing room.” He stood there for a minute waiting for her to walk around, which she never did.

“Could you please just show me to where I’ll be spending my nights?”

Any other time he would have asked a cheeky question about if she planned to pass the night sleeping or “sleeping” then directed her to appropriate room. Which in either case, he would have directed her to his room. “This way,” he said, pulling her along.

They walked up the stairs and to the fourth room on the left. Without waiting for him to open the door, Madison found the handle and swung it open before pulling out of his grasp again and marching inside. She tried to shut—or perhaps slam—the door, but he stepped in the way and stopped it with his foot.

“This will be our room,” he said with a forced smile.

She whipped around and glared at him. “I think not.”

“And why not?” he drawled.

“I’m not sharing a room with you. Especially one that has only one bed that’s smaller than the one I shared with Brooke at that atrocious boarding house in Bath last spring.”

“We don’t need a big bed,” he countered with a wink. “If I remember last night correctly, we barely used more that my body’s width worth of space. This will be plenty.”

“You’re right. It will be plenty,” she agreed, sugar dripping from her voice. “For me!” she exclaimed, her voice becoming less like sugar and more like vinegar. “You can sleep outside with the rest of your kind.”

“My kind?”

“An animal,” she said simply. “Now, where are my clothes? I should like to dress.”

He coughed. “On top of the carriage.”

“All right, go get them. I’m not some doxy that only wears her chemise all day.”

She walked over to the window, presumably to wait for him to leave the room to go get the trunks. She looked down and sighed. He knew she would. Right below the only window in the room sat several large sticker bushes. She let her blanket drop and opened the window. Poking her head out, she made sound of frustration at the realization that thick sticker bushes lined the entire side of the house.

“Sorry, I haven’t a gardener at present,” he murmured, scaring a little scream out of her.

She turned around and pulled her blanket back up. “Why are you not getting my things?” she demanded.

“That’s what servants are for.” He leaned back against the doorjamb. “You don’t have to hold that blanket up. I won’t mind.”

“You are impossible,” she said with a sigh. “You’re rather full of yourself, aren’t you?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m really not.”

In the hall, one of the footmen, either the one who was skinnier than a bedpost and limped or the one who was so old Benjamin kept thinking he was about to keel over and die, was making an awful ruckus dragging a trunk down the hall and Benjamin went to lend a hand and brought the trunk into their room with ease.

“Where are the rest?” she asked, staring at the single trunk that he placed in the middle of the floor.

He shot her a hopeful smile. “This is it.”

“That’s not it. I brought three trunks to Rockhurst. Where are the rest?” She went to the hall and twisted her head around the corner to see if there were more in the hall.

“Everything’s in here,” he said, pulling her back into their room.

“No, it’s not,” she said, shaking her head wildly. “There is no way my things could fit in there.”

“Everything’s in there,” he repeated, staring at the chest.

She jerked the lid open on the chest, pulled out her blue muslin day gown from yesterday that was on the top and laid it carefully across the bed. Then went back to the chest and started digging through it. “These are your things. Where are my other clothes?” she demanded, looking up at him.

“That’s all of it.”

“Where are my other clothes,” she repeated, her voice turning sharper. “Do not tell me you left them.”

“All right, I won’t tell you that I left them,” he said jovially.

She let out an exaggerated sigh. “Are you a relation to Robbie?” she asked flatly.

His heart started pounding in his chest. Had she just figured it out? Did she remember him? He was just about to answer her when she cut him off.

“Because right now. I’d swear you are. You both seem to have the same level of brain function,” she continued.

He frowned. Now,
that
wasn’t very flattering. Perhaps it was best he’d not mentioned Robbie’s cousin Leo after all.

“Could you have put enough thought into your plan to think of me a little? Or did you think once you got me here I’d swoon at your feet and play the part of your trollop, rendering a wardrobe unnecessary?”

Her accusations fueled the fire to his rage. “Listen here, Madison,” he said sharply, coming to stand directly in front of her, offering her no means to escape. “I don’t appreciate you accusing me of thinking of you as a whore. I’ve warned you about that twice before; there will be no more warnings. I’ve told you repeatedly that I won’t force you. Don’t mention it again. As for your clothes, that’s where I’m smarter than Mr. Swift. See, a fool like Swift, would have gone into Rockhurst in the dead of night to try and collect your clothes. And I say ‘try’ because that’s all it would have been. It would have been nearly impossible to do that without being detected. And that was a chance I didn’t wish to take.”

“No? Why not? Why not just wait a few hours and ask me if I’d go with you? Or why not explain the situation to Andrew and have his servants be on alert for Robbie? There were so many better options opened to you, and instead of thinking about anyone but yourself, you chose to abduct me.”

“And would you have come if I’d asked?” He saw in her eyes the inner struggle she had in order to answer his question. “That’s what I thought.”

“No,” she said fiercely, shaking her head. “It’s not what you thought. The truth is we’ll never know. We’ll never know because you took it upon yourself to do whatever you wanted. Just like you always do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he demanded.

“You never ask me about anything important, you just decide it,” she clarified.

“Like what?” he asked disbelievingly. What had he decided for her that she thought she should have been consulted about?

She crossed her arms and said, “Us marrying. I never accepted your suit. You never even asked. You just sauntered out of that dark hallway and announced we were getting married.”

He stared at her unblinkingly. “You had just been accused of dallying with your sister’s husband. I was doing you a favor.”

“I don’t need your favors,” she returned. “And it was your fault anyway. If you would have told me your identity, I would have left.”

“I didn’t want you to scream,” he countered. “I thought if you knew who I was you’d give a blood curdling scream and drawing attention to us.”

She rolled her eyes. “Use whatever excuse you want. It doesn’t matter now.”

“Is that what this is about? You wanted a real marriage proposal?” He sank to one knee and sarcastically said, “Oh, beautiful Madison, would you please, please, please, do me the honor of becoming my wife? I don’t know how I’ll be able to live another day if you say no.”

“You don’t have to be nasty about it,” she said, her voice mostly even with just a hint of hurt mixed in that tugged at his heart.

“I’m sorry,” he said, getting up off the floor. “That wasn’t very nice.”

“No it wasn’t,” she replied. “But I wouldn’t expect anything less from the man who hired another man to destroy a young lady’s reputation.”

“It seemed to work out well for them,” he retorted. “And there was a reason I did that.”

“Yes, I’m sure there was. And I’m sure it would have benefited you greatly if things had gone according to plan. But I’m not interested in hearing about it anymore,” she said flatly. “Now, get out. I’d like to dress and I don’t need an audience.”

“It actually benefitted me better that things didn’t work out the way I’d planned,” he said quietly. “Do you need some help with your gown?”

“No. Now, get out,” she snapped, pointing to the door.