Corey McFadden (39 page)

“What?”

His tone of incredulity alone was enough to push her on. “It did occur to me that if, indeed, you are correct and my estate is not depleted, I don’t have to marry anyone. I can throw the pack of rascals out—Uncle James can stay, of course—and live on my own. I can”—she looked up and smiled sweetly at him—“ride horses anywhere I please, alone or not, and I don’t have to be a paragon of anything.”

His jaw was slack. “Are you telling me that you don’t wish to be my wife?”

“Actually, I don’t recall having been asked to be your wife. You simply announced that we would be married. And you were drunk at the time as I recall.” Maude was enjoying this.

“I see,” he paused, waiting.

She let him wait.

“Well, do you?” he finally prodded.

“Do I what?”

“Do you want to marry me?”

“I think as far as social graces go, yours leave much to be desired, Lord Radford.” She gazed at him with a touch of hauteur, belied by the laughter in her eyes. “I may have been raised in the stables, but I would think a marriage proposal could be somewhat more—more romantic, don’t you agree? You might as well be asking me if I want fish for my dinner.”

“Miss Romney, I am sitting here with a headache that would kill a lesser man, stark naked, I might add, having made an ass of myself all over London last night because of what I thought was your perfidy, and you have the nerve to demand romance?” He threw the blanket off and got out of bed. Towering over her, his eyes mocking, he asked, “How romantic would you like me to get?”

Maude’s gaze traveled downward and she could not help the giggle that escaped her when she saw evidence of just how romantic he was feeling.

“I take it your lordship’s headache is improved?” she asked sweetly, looking up at him.

“It’s not the ache in my head that’s troubling me at the moment, Miss Romney,” he whispered.

Near-mesmerized by the waves of desire that rippled through her at the sight of him so obviously ready, she reached out.

“Oh, no, you don’t!” he cried with a laugh, grabbing her hands in his and stepping back. “Before you further sully my virtue, Miss Romney, I will have your promise that you will wed me.”

“Your what?” she gasped in outrage. “You cad!” She struggled to free her hands but he was too strong for her. He pushed her back onto the bed and climbed on top of her, pushing his knee against her skirts between her thighs. Through her laughter, she felt the waves of pleasure begin to ripple inside her, and with a moan, she pressed herself tight against him.

“Your promise, Miss Romney,” he whispered, nuzzling her neck. “I will have it now. Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I will marry you.”

His lips closed on hers in a fierce kiss that spoke more of his joy than all the tender words in the world.

* * * *

“What was it you said last night, monkey?” Radford began, over a civilized and ever-so-proper breakfast, when the servants had retreated and shut the door behind them. “About the butler here...what’s his name? I can’t remember.”

“Graves,” she said with a shudder of irritation. “But never mind. I suppose that is a problem I should solve myself.”

“But what has he done?” Radford persisted. “The man came with excellent references from the owner of this house. I’d like to know if I’ve been misled.”

“No, I don’t suppose you have been. It’s just that he seems to have a very high opinion of himself and apparently doesn’t take well to serving in the household of a ‘kept woman’.”        Maude paused and looked up at him, chagrined. “I realize I am overly sensitive on the issue, but Graves has been insolent to a fault and it has increased my discomfort about my situation. But you mustn’t worry about it, Edward. I will gather my dignity and speak to him myself.”

She bent her head to take a mouthful of the delicious, fluffy eggs and missed the grim tightening of Radford’s mouth. Maude was kind to a fault. The man would be given notice this morning.

“What time do you think the groom will come, Edward?” Maude asked, getting back to the subject foremost in her mind. “I should love to ride in the morning before the park gets crowded with afternoon strollers.” She sat back and wiped her lips with a square of fine white linen.

“I’ll send him round at once, as soon as I get home. But you will promise me to ride only in the park? I am not at ease with the fact that your aunt hired detectives to find you. The sooner we are married, the better.” Radford sipped his coffee thoughtfully. “I am inclined to marry you right away, without any fanfare. Can you stand to do without all the pomp and circumstance? I know how you ladies look forward to that sort of thing, but I do not trust your family.”

Maude rolled her eyes heavenward. “Edward, I have never dreamed of a fancy wedding,” she said in a tone that suggested great contempt for such nonsense. “Truly, I had never much cared about getting married at all. Until I met you, of course,” she finished hurriedly.

He laughed and made ready to leave. “I am also inclined to take you to your solicitors’ office, perhaps this afternoon. If we catch your Mr. Parsons unawares, he won’t have time to fabricate a plausible explanation, or to fly if things are as nasty as I suspect they are.”

Anxiety clouded Maude’s face. “Do you think we should? I am not anxious to show myself to that man, and if you are right about him, he will lose no time in contacting Aunt Claire.”

“Is this the young lady who threw herself on a pistol a few nights ago?” Radford laughed. “Please don’t think so ill of my care that I would let this pack of jackals do you any harm now, monkey. As long as you listen to me and do not hare off alone anywhere, you are perfectly safe.” He approached her, aware that the worry had not faded from her eyes. “You don’t have to go with me if you don’t want to,” he said. Gently, he brushed a tendril back from her face. “I just thought it might set your mind at ease to see your actual holdings on paper. To lay the dragon to rest, so to speak.”

Maude gazed at him for a moment and he was relieved to see the fear fade from her eyes to be replaced by determination.

“Yes, I think you are right,” she said finally, smiling up at him. It was true that she did feel safe now under his protection, and it would be all too easy to surrender her affairs into Radford’s capable hands. But after all these months of living one lie after another, feeling like everyone’s pawn in a game of deadly stakes, she knew she must meet her fears face to face.

“I will go with you,” she said, serious now. “After all, it was my inattention to my own affairs that left me vulnerable to this scheme in the first place.”

“Maude, you must remember that you are... what, almost eighteen? No young woman at that age is informed about her finances. As silly as it may sound, men always protect women, particularly before they are married, from the seamy facts of money.”

“As do wicked aunts?” she questioned. “It would seem my Aunt Claire has ‘protected’ Uncle James all these years as well.”

“Yes,” Radford said musingly. “It is most unfortunate that your uncle has not roused himself to pay attention to your affairs. Had he been of stronger character, none of this would have come to pass.”

“Oh, please don’t blame him too much, Edward!” Maude cried. “He has had such a grim time of it. The only pleasure he finds in life he finds from his brandy bottle.”

“One finds pleasure where one seeks it, Maude.” Radford bent to give her a kiss. “But I assure you that although you are too kindhearted to blame him, he will blame himself enough when the facts are known.” He started for the door.

“If we are right about everything,” she said thoughtfully.

“We are right, monkey,” he said, turning to smile reassuringly at her. Then he was gone.

* * * *

The exhilaration was overwhelming, enough to make her laugh out loud. The strong hooves pounded beneath her, the early-spring wind rushed over her face. She and the beautiful stallion were one. Maude was vaguely aware that an outraged groom struggled to catch up to her, riding the docile mare that had no doubt been purchased to be her mount. The one she rode was a charger fit for a medieval knight and Maude’s only disappointment was that he was wasted in a staid city park where she had already received chilly stares from tony sorts ambling genteelly along shrubbery-bordered paths. Any minute now the park warden would appear and order her back onto the riding path but until he did Maude was determined to have a decent ride. Oh, how she had missed this!

Hearing a shout, she reluctantly reined in and turned. Behind her came the groom, trying to hide his aggravation with a suitably neutral façade. She waited impatiently for him, her eyes sparkling with the wind, wisps of short curls peeping from beneath her cap, now askew.

As the groom approached, she called out, “Do not make me stop now, Evans, I am just beginning to remember how to ride.”

To his credit, he laughed. It was clear the woman was a marvel on horseback. She reminded him of a picture he had seen once of fantastic beasts that were half human and half horse. She sat so smoothly in the saddle that it seemed that she and the beautiful animal were one creature. Nevertheless, his duty had been made very clear to him by none other than his lordship himself and Evans had no intention of failing in his first senior position.

“Miss, if you please”—he was panting a little—“I’m afraid we must go more slowly and stay on the paths. If there are complaints, his lordship won’t like it.”

“Oh bother all that, Evans!” Maude cried with exasperation. “I haven’t had a good ride in months.” She turned as if to ride off again.

“Miss, wait!” he called. She drew around, and Evans saw her impatience clear on her flushed face. “I cannot keep up with you, miss, and his lordship said I was not to let you out of my sight. Please, can’t you ride more slowly?” he pleaded.

Maude paused and looked out over the park, spectacularly beautiful to her eyes, well-manicured, artfully planted, and with large, old trees, wintry-bare now, stretching their magnificent limbs across the grounds. Nothing can spoil the splendor of this day, she thought. I am Maude Romney again, Edward loves me, and I am at no one’s mercy for the first time in months. She turned a broad grin on the hapless groom.

“Very well, we will proceed at a more dignified pace, Evans, but I warn you, this horse needs a good gallop. He’ll not stand to prance around a park several times a week.”

“Nay, miss,” Evans answered as they set off again at a leisurely pace, making their way back to the path. “His lordship said the stallion will go to the country soon. He’s no city horse, you’re right about that.”

They trotted along, Maude slightly ahead of Evans as was fitting, each alone with their pleasant thoughts. They passed other riders and strollers. It was a fine day, bright, not too cold, with a mild wind that did not bite at one’s nose and ears. Maude was in no hurry to return to the townhouse. Lovely as it was, she felt stifled and ill at ease there. She had seen Graves only briefly this morning and then when she was in the company of the earl. She had not yet screwed up her courage to speak with the butler and she wondered what good it would really do anyway. If he hid his censure, wouldn’t she feel it nonetheless? It was not her house and while she was in it, no matter what their plans for marriage, she was Edward’s mistress and nothing more.

* * * *

Lost in her musings, Maude did not notice as a plumpish, overdressed young man stepped hurriedly out of the way of the horses on the path. Casting an angry look at her as she passed, the man gave a start and stopped dead in his tracks, staring after her.

A slow, malevolent smile curled his lips, twisting unnaturally at the ugly scar which ran from the corner of his eye to his mouth. At a discreet distance he strolled after her, the horses’ slow gait easy to keep up with. He would tail her all day, if necessary, now that he had found his lovely cousin. The very sight of her caused a swelling in his loins, and he grunted at the memory of his last glimpse of her, struggling and crying, her naked breasts heaving in fear. Oh, no doubt Mama had plans for little Maudie but John would get to her first and she would pay dearly for the hideous scar she had inflicted on him.

She had clearly done well for herself, his resourceful little cousin. She was tarted out in expensive clothing and riding a magnificent horse. The man with her was a servant in livery bearing a crest. His mother and Mr. Parsons had very obviously been on the wrong trail in their search for Maudie, seeking in boarding houses and small towns. No, it appeared she had landed on her feet amid the gentry, though who had housed her John could not yet guess. He frowned to himself, recollecting that between himself and Amelia, most of the major social events of the Season had been attended, and Maude had certainly not been present at any of them, nor had he heard her discussed as a visitor. That meant she was not in open residence anywhere, or surely they would have heard of it in the
ton
.

Someone, and from the looks of it, someone wealthy and well-born, had hidden her all these months. What had the little bitch said of him and his mother to have herself sheltered like this with no word to her legal guardian?

His mouth set in a grim line now, John hurried to catch up as he saw the horses turn onto the path that led out of the park. Luck was with him. The two were slowed by traffic and pedestrians as they nosed the horses into the street. With little effort, John was able to keep up with them, maintaining the appearance of a gentleman out for a brisk walk while he followed close on Maude’s trail. She had yet to glance backward and see him, nor had the groom paid him any mind.

At last he was rewarded. Maude and her groom turned up a side street which opened onto a crescent of beautiful townhouses. At a careful distance John followed, noting which alley they turned into. Hurrying now to catch up so he would not lose them in a maze of back stables and mews, he entered the alley just in time to see the pair turn into one narrow carriage drive. He noted that it was the third drive in from the street, then turned and retraced his steps. Coming back to the crescent, John resumed his leisurely stroll noting the third house as he passed it. As was to be expected, nothing about the exterior gave a clue as to the owner or resident.