To Win His Wayward Wife (19 page)

How ironic that she’d wasted five years of her life and her virtue on a man who was the exact bounder he’d accused his cousin to be. Not that she didn’t still believe Leo to be a bounder, she did. She just knew now it was a trait that was bred, and they both seemed to possess it.

Chapter 19

Rockhurst

Later that day

“Brooke,” Carolina Banks chirped when she saw her oldest daughter. “I’m so happy to see you!”

“It’s good to see you, too,” Brooke said, wrapping Mama in a big hug. “We weren’t expecting you so soon.”

“The wind was in our favor,” John, her papa, said simply, embracing her so tightly she thought she might pop. “Now where is that rapscallion son-in-law of mine?”

“Which one,” Brooke asked, stalling for time. She hadn’t seen Madison or Benjamin all day today. She’d gone to Madison’s room last night to talk and when nobody answered the door, she let herself in. Nothing appeared to be out of place at first, but upon closer inspection, Brooke noticed Madison’s brush and personal mirror were missing. She tried not to smile with excitement when she realized her sister had snuck out to spend the night with her husband.

“Good point,” John said smoothly. “Both of them.”

“They’re not in at the moment,” she said, still stalling. Andrew was on his way to the gamekeeper’s cabin to discuss the possibility that they were ready to leave and go to Glenbrook. “Would you like to see Nathan?”

“Of course,” Mama exclaimed, walking to the little basket by the window where Nathan was taking a nap. She picked him up and cooed in his ear while she swayed with him by the window.

Papa went over and saw the baby. He idly ran his finger on Nathan’s soft cheek. “Brooke, can I ask you something? Do you think there’s something familiar about Gateway?”

Brooke almost choked. The night before she’d met Andrew she’d been kissing Benjamin in the shrubs at a ball. “Ugh…not really, no. I mean, I’ve only seen him as much as everyone else here, I’d wager,” she said evasively. She knew her parents probably knew she’d kissed men before her husband, but she didn’t want to start listing names and places for them.

“Hmmm,” Papa said. “I just get the feeling I’ve seen him somewhere else.”

“Perhaps you knew his father,” Mama put in helpfully. “You did grow up in England. Maybe you went to school with him.”

Papa shook his head. “No, I think his father is at least a decade, maybe more, older than me.”

“What of a brother? Did his father have a younger brother?” Brooke asked, even though she knew the old duke wasn’t really Benjamin’s father and if he did have a younger brother, he’d have no resemblance to Benjamin.

Papa shook his head again. “I think I’ve met the man before. I just cannot place where.”

“Nonsense,” Mama said dismissively. “Before we came to England last spring you’d been living in America for twenty five years. If you’d met him before you left he’d have been what four or five and you’d have been nineteen. I hardly think you’d recognize him now.”

“You’re right,” Papa acknowledged. “It would have been in America and I don’t remember meeting any dukes over there.” He took a seat on the settee and watched his wife as she swayed their grandson. “On a different note, I went and saw Theodore Swift after I received Andrew’s missive.”

Brooke nodded. She’d be willing to bet that wasn’t a happy visit.

“He couldn’t get rid of me fast enough,” Papa continued with a laugh. “I told him he better retrieve his son and keep him on a tight leash because Madison’s husband wasn’t likely to let him live if he showed up here again. The man actually had the nerve to laugh at me until I told him who Madison’s husband was. Apparently Gateway’s reputation is known all the way to Brooklyn.” He chuckled and closed his eyes, resting his head back against the wall. “Hmm, funny I never heard of him though,” he mused with a frown. “I’d have thought if Theo knew of him, I’d have heard of him, too.”

Brooke took a seat and watched as Mama played with Nathan and Papa took a nap. That was odd that Mr. Swift knew of Benjamin’s dangerous reputation all the way to Brooklyn. Who in America would care? None of the girls she’d grown up with knew or cared about the reputations of titled Englishmen. But then again, the Swifts had connections over here, she remembered. They’d had their handsome English cousin stay with them for a while.

Oh, if only Madison would have ended up with him. She still didn’t believe the things Robbie said about him. Robbie was jealous and grasping at straws to get Madison to return to his side like a lost puppy. Unfortunately it worked.

She’d even admit to herself Gateway was a better choice than Robbie. But still, nobody could compare to the handsome man who sat on the edge of the ballroom with his heart in his eyes as he confessed to being a bounder of the worst sort but promised he was savable.

She smiled. Then froze. She’d heard Benjamin say something similar to that just not too long ago. She frowned. Why had he said that? It was the night he’d come to apologize for his stupidity involving her ruination last spring. Was it just a coincidence he’d used the same words as Leo? It had to be. Leo was a lowly commoner and Benjamin was a duke. They were worlds apart.

She closed her eyes and tried to drag up an image of Leo. His uneven beard had covered half his face, but she remembered his vivid blue eyes and light blond hair precisely. He’d worn a face-splitting grin every time he caught sight of Madison, much the same way that Benjamin did. She nearly choked on her gasp. Benjamin was Leo. Leo was Benjamin. For whatever reason, he’d come to America dressed as a beggar and given his heart to Madison.

“Are you all right, dear?” Mama asked, breaking Brooke from her trance.

She nodded. “I know where we’ve seen him before.”

Papa’s eyes snapped open. “Where?”

“He’s Leo,” she croaked.

Mama stopped mid-sway. “You mean—”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

Brooke nodded. “Madison probably isn’t going to like this revelation,” she said numbly.

“Perhaps not, but Liberty will. She’ll appreciate the irony,” Papa said with a smirk.

Just then Andrew came into the room mumbling and muttering words that are better left unmentioned. “They’re gone,” he nearly shouted. “That no-good filthy bounder abducted her. All his things are gone and there is nary a trace of her anywhere. When I get my hands on him—”

“No!” Mama and Brooke exclaimed in unison, waking poor Nathan up and making him cry.

“Why not?” Andrew demanded, crossing his arms.

“He’s not going to hurt her,” Brooke said, walking up to him and placing her hands on his shoulders.

“You bet he won’t,” he spat. “I’ll kill him when I find him. I should have known I couldn’t trust him. This is my fault. I should have tried harder to convince him to drop the engagement. But don’t worry, Brooke. I’ll bring her back—”

Brooke brought her finger up to stop her husband’s lips from spouting more male ego nonsense. “Stop,” she said in a small voice. “I’ve already told you he’s not going to hurt her.”

Andrew looked at her dubiously. “And what make you so certain of that?”

Brooke smiled. “He loves her the same as you love me.”

Chapter 20

The middle of nowhere near the coast of England

Later that day

Benjamin walked into the drawing room and stood quietly inside the door while Madison rested on the settee with her eyes shut. He couldn’t tell if she was sleeping or just resting. Either way he didn’t wish to disturb her.

The footmen had finished unloading the carriage. He’d had her painting supplies put into an empty room and everything else went to the one they’d share, including that bloody wooden chest that was driving him to distraction. Twice already this afternoon he’d had to remind himself he couldn’t open it without her permission and had to remove his hands from the latch.

Maybe tonight he’d just ask her about it. She was already mad at him, how much worse could it get if he asked about the box?

He walked down the hall and into the kitchen to see if Cook had some biscuits he could snag. Taking a tray of fresh biscuits and hot tea with him, he walked back to the drawing room. Madison was sitting up now, but she didn’t look overly happy.

“Can I interest you in something to eat?” he asked, placing the tray down on the squat table positioned in front of the settee.

She shrugged and took a biscuit.

“How about some tea?” he asked, waiting for her to take the hint and pour. When she didn’t, he asked, “Aren’t you going to serve?”

“No,” she said flatly, grabbing another biscuit.

He stared at the teapot. It was so small and delicate he’d probably break it with his grasp if he tried to pour. “Would you like to pour me a cup?”

“Not particularly,” she answered smugly, chewing her biscuit.

He snatched the teapot and started dumping tea into a cup, sloshing the liquid all over everything. When the cup was filled with as much tea as a thimble would hold, he brought it to his lips and drank it all in one exaggerated swallow. “Tea’s delicious,” he said with a smile.

“I’m sure the table thinks so, too,” she said dryly, staring at the huge puddle he’d made.

Putting the cup down, he leaned forward. “Are you going to be mad at me forever?”

“No. Not forever. Just until you return me,” she said pertly. “I knew one day I’d have to live in your house, but I didn’t think you’d be so highhanded as to accomplish it this way.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not being highhanded. I’m trying to protect you.”

“As I said, I don’t need protecting. The man is an imbecile. He can’t even tie his own cravat, for goodness’ sake,” she burst out.

“I understand that. However, he may lack common sense and enjoy acting like a simpleton, but he still poses a threat,” he said sharply.

She waved her hand in the air. “No, he doesn’t. I once though he wasn’t as dumb as everyone thought, but then I spent five years in his close company. Believe me when I say a rabbit uses his brain for more decisions than Robbie.”

Benjamin pinned her with his eyes. “I don’t care. The man isn’t what he seems. A person doesn’t have to have common sense to figure out how to manipulate someone.”

“I believe your theory,” she said with a smirk. “I’ve met a person just like that before. You.”

“Me?” he asked defensively. He crossed his arms and felt his body stiffen as he waited for her answer.

She nodded. “Yes, you. See, I’ve seen you manipulate people like a chess master moving his pieces. However, you lack common sense.”

“How so?”

“You forgot my clothes, didn’t you,” she said, shrugging.

He leaned forward. “That was not a lack of common sense. That was using common sense. I’ve already explained why I didn’t grab your clothes. So please, find another example.”

“You wear drawers that are too tight because you think wearing them will make me magically interested in what they conceal,” she said smartly. “When, quite frankly, I could care less either way.”

“I only did that so I wouldn’t scare you,” he countered.

 “Yes, because it’s
so
large,” she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

“Stop,” he snapped. “Stop the sarcasm right now. I left them on because I knew you weren’t a virgin and I didn’t want you to think I was trying to force myself on you. I wanted to give you the space and respect you deserved.”

She just stared at him unblinking. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to insult you…”

“Yes, you did,” he retorted. “But that’s all right. Just don’t discount what I do for you, Madison. Everything I’ve ever told you has been the truth. I haven’t lied to you about anything. Ever.” The last word was added more for his benefit than hers. He’d never lied to her in New York, not that she’d ever know that. He honestly doubted she even remembered him. He’d been nothing more to her than a passing flirtation.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

“No need to be,” he said dismissively. “Now pour us some tea.”

With a weak smile, she poured their tea and they had a strained conversation.

In his quick, unplanned escape last night he hadn’t considered just how mad she’d be at him. However, thinking about it from her side, he could understand. He’d stolen her away without letting her say goodbye or gather her things or even know what was going on. How astonishing to discover he really was a scoundrel.

Conversation at dinner had been nonexistent. She just glowered at him and shoveled her food into her mouth at an astonishing rate, presumably to be out of his presence as quickly as possible. After he finished eating he went up to their room and found the door locked. He had the key in his pocket, all he had to do was slip it in and open the door. But she didn’t want him in there tonight and he respected her wishes enough not to push it. For tonight anyway, he’d just try again tomorrow.

But tomorrow wasn’t any different. And neither was the next day. Nor the next. It turned out to be nearly a week before she so much as let him cross the threshold. And once he crossed it, he knew it wasn’t for a reenactment of the night of passion they’d had the week before. No, she was full of rage. And her rage surprised him. She’d been very quiet and withdrawn all week as she tried to avoid him. To actually see her in a temper was rather off-putting.

“You requested me,” he said, shutting the door.

Skipping any hint of pleasantry, she pointed to the wooden box Paul had brought for her. “What’s the meaning of this,” she shouted hysterically.

He looked at the offending box. “I don’t know,” he said as if he were a lad being questioned for a prank at Eton.

“Why is it here?” she demanded hotly.

“I don’t know,” he repeated. What did she expect him to say?

“Yes, you do,” she snapped. “Now get it out of my sight.”

“Why?” he demanded.

Her eyes flashed fire like he’d never seen. “Because I don’t want to see it again, that’s why.”

He walked up to the chest and put his hand on the latch. “Why not? What’s in here that made your face go white and caused you to look like you were about to faint?”

“Nothing,” she said, putting her hands on his to stop him from opening the lid. “Get your hands off of it.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m going to open it.”

“No,” she yelled. “You have no right to. It’s mine.”

He smiled. “Didn’t you know that in England when a woman marries, all her possessions then belong to her husband?”

“This is different,” she argued. “There is no monetary value in this chunk of wood.”

“No,” he agreed. “But there is another type of value in this box. Now get your hands off.”

Her hands didn’t budge. “Not on your life,” she hissed. “I shouldn’t have called you in here. I should have just lit it on fire and been done with it.”

“But you didn’t,” he pointed out smugly. “And now you’ll have to expose your secrets to me.”

“No, I won’t,” she said, tugging on the chest.

“Yes, you will,” he countered, pulling it out of her grasp. Holding it above her reach, he fiddled with the clasp and almost had it opened when his eyes caught Madison’s. “You really don’t want me to see what's in here, do you?” he asked softly, lowering the box.

She shook her head.

With a sigh, he held the box out to her and just before her fingers had a good grasp, he let it fall to the thinly carpeted stone floor, silently watching as it splintered apart. He knew it was a cruel trick, but hoped she’d think it was an accident.

All hope of her thinking it was an accident flew out the window when he saw her bend down and start scooping up pieces of paper.

He came to his knees to help and noticed they were letters. Letters from Robbie to be exact. He wasn’t going to be such a cad as to read her love letters in front of her, or at all. He murmured an apology and scooped them up. There were a ton of them. But then again, they’d courted for five years. His shock was more that the man actually knew to write them in the first place, not so much because she’d actually kept them. His eyes scanned a sentence here and there. His writing was messy and full of spelling errors. Benjamin knew that already though from the letters he’d received from Robbie explaining his sick relationship with Madison.

They were near the bottom of the stack and his hands were full of folded papers when he saw a corner of a picture. His interest now piqued by the picture more than it had been by the scribbled declarations of like from Robbie. Without saying anything, he put the notes in a pile next to her and grabbed for the corner of the drawing. His fingers barely closed around the edge when her cold, trembling hand found his wrist. He looked up into her face and saw her shaking her head before whispering, “Please don’t.”

“Let me see, Madison. Please,” he said, gently shaking her hand off his wrist. “I don’t care if it’s of him. I just want to see.” With her hand off his wrist, he yanked up the papers and didn’t see a picture of him. He saw a picture of
him!
Him as in Benjamin Archer Leopold Charles Robert Collins, Duke of Gateway, Marquis Channing,  Earl Iversly, Viscount Clairborne, Baron Drake, also known to her as Leo.

He scanned the picture. He recognized it immediately. She’d drawn him leaning against the tree the day of the outing at the Hudson. His eyes traveled over his drawn form. She’d captured him perfectly. Well, perfectly for how he looked then, that is. Looking at the picture made it easier to see why she’d not recognized him. He’d been nothing more than a boy at the time. Everything about the image in the picture screamed boy. The expression on his unevenly bearded face. His posture. His body in general. It wasn’t until he’d come back from America that he’d taken up boxing and thickened up. He’d been nothing but a skinny pole with legs back then.

He flipped to the next picture and blinked. It was a drawing of them dancing. But they’d never danced. Had she drawn this because it was how she envisioned dancing with him? There were more pages and he wanted to see them all. What was he thinking? He wanted to frame them all.

“Could you please dispose of those in the nearest fire,” Madison said tonelessly.

“Why?” he asked hoarsely, looking into her sad face. She’d obviously remembered him if she’d known these were in the chest and hadn’t wanted him to see them. It was also clear to see she’d felt the same for him that he’d felt for her. Why did she want them destroyed?

She came forward and tried to take them from him, but he drew his hand back. She shrugged. “All right, since you want to know so badly, I’ll tell you. I fancied myself in love with him,” she said blithely.

“And he felt the same,” he said immediately, his heart pounding in his chest.

She snorted. “Not hardly. No, he termed me as a challenging courtesan or something of the like.”

“Excuse me?” he asked breathlessly. “I never—”

“Oh, don’t,” he interrupted coldly. “Don’t defend him. Brooke did enough of that back in New York,” she added offhandedly.

“Well, madam,” he drawled, “It just so happens that I know this man. And, believe it or not, you do, too.
And
, I know for certain he never said anything of the like regarding you.”

She paled. “You know him?”

“Yes,” he said with a grin. “And I know he never said that about you.”

“All right. What’s his name?” she asked with a doubtful expression.

“You’d know him as Leo,” he paused and smiled when he heard her gasp, “but his real name is—”

“Benjamin!” she screamed, cutting him off as a bullet zipped in the open window and hit him directly in the shoulder.