A Lass for Christmas (Tenacious Trents Novella) (3 page)

“Yet, you did nothing when you learned the
truth about Adele,” Matthew pointed out.

“I didn’t know what to do. And then there was
the fear that if anyone learned, I would be ruined, but it wasn’t
about me.”

“No. You wanted to protect Madeline,” Jordan
confirmed.

“If anyone learns that my marriage was not
valid they will paint Madeline a bastard and society will turn on
her. She is innocent in all of this and doesn’t deserve to have
doors shut on her.”

Madeline grasped the wall to steady herself
as the floor swayed before her. She was a bastard, born on the
wrong side of the blanket. That thought hadn’t even entered her
mind when she heard Adele was still alive.

“You are innocent of any wrong doing as
well,” Matthew offered.

“I was until I learned,” Mother sighed. “But
I am just as guilty for holding my tongue after he told me the
truth.”

“You had to protect your daughter.”

“Which I still intend to do,” she said with
vengeance.

“There could be a problem,” Jordan
hedged.

“What? Has something happened?” There was a
slight hint of panic in her voice.

“Adele and Julia left France some months ago.
They were tracked to Scotland but we no longer know where they
are,” Jordan explained.

“We thought you should know so that you could
be prepared in the event they show up in London.”

Madeline’s heart stopped. They couldn’t come
here.

“Do you think she would?” Mother asked with
the same panic Madeline was experiencing.

“We don’t know what they will do, but John
has been looking for them.” Matt answered. ”She must have learned
that father died and there is no reason for her to remain
away.”

“We must stop her. She can’t come here. Not
until Madeline is married.” She could hear the rustle of her
mother’s skirt. The woman was always the calmest person she knew,
but Madeline could hear her moving about the room. She stood in the
event her mother was about to walk into the hall. She couldn’t be
caught. “Please refill my glass, Jordan.”

Madeline brought a hand up to her mouth. Her
heart raced and she looked around for an escape. Oh, nothing good
came from listening at doors.

“As long as Madeline never learns, or anyone
else, we don’t have to worry.”

Madeline paced inside her guest bedchamber.
She couldn’t think clearly. Everything she knew about her life was
a lie. She wasn’t a lady. She was a bastard child.

Tears sprang to her eyes. She knew well
enough the lot in life those who were born on the wrong side of the
blanket would suffer. Or at least she had heard enough rumors. It
was far harder for a female than a man. Women became servants,
mistresses or worse, and never good enough to marry a
gentleman.

Breathing was becoming difficult, and her
chest felt tight. Madeline rushed to the window, opened it wide,
and stuck out her head. She attempted to take deep breaths, but it
was no use. She slammed it closed and resumed her pacing.

She had to think, and she couldn’t do it in a
room that grew smaller with each pass she made in front of the
fire. She kicked off her slippers, grabbed her boots, and pushed
her feet inside before pulling her heaviest cloak from the armoire.
A quick brisk walk would clear her head and then she could think
again. There really was no reason to panic and as soon as she
calmed, she would be able to make sense of the situation and find a
solution. She grabbed her gloves and muff off the table and marched
to the door.

Madeline pulled it open and stuck her head
out into the hall. Thankfully, it was absent of any family. Quietly
closing it behind her, Madeline tiptoed down the hall to the
servant’s stairs to the kitchen. With careful steps, she slowly
edged her way down, praying nobody heard her. It wasn’t as if she
were doing anything wrong, but she wanted no company on her walk,
and her mother or brothers may object to her going out in the snow.
But she didn’t intend to go far; she just needed to be free of this
suffocating house.

She held her breath and peeked around the
door. Nobody was in the kitchen, so she hurried across the room and
was out the door before anyone came back. Madeline paused and took
a deep breath before she walked toward the front drive. The snow
was up to her ankles but not so deep that she couldn’t walk through
it. The temperature wasn’t all that cold either. It was a little
brisk, and damp given the snow, but not so cold as one could not
stay out for very long.

Outside there was nothing but silence. Not
that there was much noise to begin with given Matt and Grace lived
farther away from town, but it was as quiet as the dead of night
with the snow blanketing the earth. She couldn’t even hear the
chickens, horses or cows. It was as if the world slumbered around
her.

Madeline picked her way along the drive and
toward the road. She didn’t watch for carriages because she doubted
any would be out. Soon the snow would be too deep for even horses,
but she intended to be back at the house long before then. All she
needed was time to think matters through.

She was a bastard.

As her father was a lord and her brothers
loved her, Madeline knew she would not go without the comforts she
had become accustomed to. But if society learned the truth, she
would be forced to live on the fringes of the
ton
. She might
not even be able to return to London. What would be the point? It
wasn’t as if she would be invited to any balls.

With no balls she wouldn’t meet a proper
gentleman. But once her status became known, they wouldn’t offer
marriage anyway.

Madeline tilted her chin to her chest as the
wind picked up, and she shoved her hands inside the muff. She had
to think.

Her future had been set not only a few hours
ago. Or, plans for her future were in place but it had all
evaporated as quickly as the snowflakes landing on her arm. What
was she to do with the rest of her life? There would be no more
balls, no gentlemen wishing to court her, no wedding at St. Paul’s
and no home of her own. She would grow old, a spinster, on the
shelf before she was old enough to be there. When her mother died,
which she hoped was years from now, she would be passed from one
family member to another. She would watch as her brothers raised
their families never knowing the love of a gentleman, or to hold
her own child in her arms.

It wasn’t fair!

But, what if nobody ever knew? What if Adele
and Julia didn’t come to England? What if they sailed for America
or someplace else far away? There was no reason to think she would
be in London.

Yet, even if they didn’t surface, was it fair
to marry a gentleman without him knowing the truth?

No, she couldn’t do that. And despite all the
great loves she read in novels, she doubted any lord would remain
betrothed to her once he knew the truth, not in a society where
bloodlines meant everything. There was too much risk of society
ever learning. Which meant there was no reason to go into society
every again.

She wouldn’t ever dance again, or flirt, or
ride in Hyde Park.

Madeline glanced up and looked around. Where
was she?

She turned back the way she had come, but her
footprints were long erased by the deepening snow. It was past her
ankles and slipping into her boots. She needed to get back to
Matt’s house, but what direction was it.

She was surrounded by trees and there was no
sign of the road she had been on. Had she veered off it while she
walked, unaware she was doing so?

Madeline couldn’t even remember looking
around. She had simply walked with her head down, putting one foot
in front of the other and now she was lost. Worse, it was getting
dark.

She stood in the middle of what appeared to
be nowhere and listened. There had to be a sound that would cut
through the silence that she could follow. Closing her eyes, she
concentrated to hear.

Her eyes popped open. Was that a horse?

Madeline picked her way through the trees.
There had to be a house here somewhere, or a road. Once she found
either, someone could direct her home.

Lights blinked through the trees. They
weren’t very close but at least it was something she could focus on
and began walking in that direction. Snow fell into her boots and
her feet were freezing. The wind picked up and Madeline became
aware of how cold she really was. Mother would kill her if she
became ill. But on the bright side, she wouldn’t be able to travel
to Danby Castle. Besides, bastards shouldn’t celebrate Christmas
with dukes, even if they were related by marriage.

She broke through the trees and at the top of
a small hill stood a large manor house. Lights were lit in a few
rooms on the lower floor at the end of the house. The rest was
dark. Thank goodness someone was home and hopefully they wouldn’t
mind a stranger intruding on what was probably a peaceful
night.

Madeline began walking faster. The lawn
sloped down before it climbed up again, and she hurried toward the
lights. She needed to be out of this cold.

Her foot hit a hard surface and slipped, but
Madeline was able to catch herself before falling. Perhaps there
was a terrace beneath the snow. She took a few more steps, walking
more carefully so as not to fall. A moment later, a crack disturbed
the silence. The ground beneath her opened and she was engulfed
into frigid water. Her head went under before she had a chance to
scream.

Lachlan leaned back in his chair, cradling a
glass of whisky and looked out the window while he waited for
Dougal to make his next move. The man played chess slower than a
turtle moving across the sand.

Was there someone on his lawn? Lachlan stood
and walked closer to the window as the figure of a woman in a long,
rose cloak moved from the trees toward his home? What was someone
doing out in this weather? Had her carriage gotten stuck?

“Dougal, is that a woman?”

He sensed his friend behind him. “Aye, and if
she isna careful, she is goin’ to . . .” Before Dougal could finish
his sentence, the woman crashed through the ice on the pond.

“Grab a rope,” Lachlan shouted as he ran for
the door.

The snow was even deeper than Lachlan
thought, and it was difficult to run even in this short distance.
The woman’s head came above the water but went down a second time.
He had to get to her. What if he hadn’t been watching? She could
have drowned and they wouldn’t have found her until next spring.
That would have been an unpleasant discovery.

Her head came up a second time and this time
she looked up. Their eyes met and held. Hers were full of terror
and his were probably no different. He fought the drifts and ran as
fast as he could, reaching her before she went under again.
Kneeling on the ground, he reached for the pale, blond woman. She
tried to reach a hand to him, their fingers brushed but he couldn’t
grab hold. Her eyes fluttered closed and her lips began to turn
blue as she sank again. He could hear Dougal rushing from the barn.
Lachlan lay on his belly and stretched as far has he could and
snagged the cloak. He didn’t want to strangle the lass but he
couldn’t let her go under again. What if she didn’t emerge? And, he
couldn’t go out further onto the ice because it was liable to
shatter beneath his weight.

With all of his might he hauled the hood of
the cloak out of the water, bringing the young woman with him.
“Hold on, lass. I’ve got ye.”

Without being told, Dougal bent and tied the
rope around Lachlan’s waist.

“Is it tight?”

“I’ve got ye.”

Inch by inch Lachlan eased out over the ice.
It splintered beneath him but it didn’t break. The closer he got to
where the woman had fallen through the further he was able to drag
her from the water. When he reached the edge, he let go and clasped
both arms around her chest and hauled her up against him.