His Wicked Wish (14 page)

Gilmore put down his cigar in the saucer. “Enough with this quarreling,” he said sharply. “It serves no purpose. It is time for us to set aside our animosity and speak civilly.”

“You first.”

“Your sister has had a difficult time this past year. She lost a beloved brother. She also lost her beauty—along with the prospect of making a good marriage and having a happy life.”

“Emily will find someone. Not all men care about appearances.” Nate hoped that was true, anyway. He himself had been guilty of choosing women based upon their physical allure. He hoped to God his sister would find a better man than him.

“Every gentleman cares about the reputation of his chosen lady,” Gilmore stated. “Emily's standing in society will suffer greatly from your folly today!”

“Increase her dowry, then. That ought to attract men like flies to honey. She'll have her pick of suitors.”

The earl made a quick, sharp shake of his head. “No, there's a far better solution. I hope to God you'll give it serious consideration.”

“Go on.”

Gilmore leaned forward, his hands gripping the edge of the table as he pinned Nate with a piercing stare. “You were wed only today. That means there's still time to act. I shall summon my lawyers in the morning. If you love your sister, you'll annul this disastrous marriage.”

*   *   *

Maddy stared at her reflection in the dressing room mirror. It had been a relief to shed the gaudy red gown and the whalebone corset. But her present garb could hardly be deemed any less of an embarrassment.

The new nightdress clung to her every curve. Sewn of shimmery white gauze, it hinted at her underlying nakedness. The peaks of her breasts thrust against the sheer material, while lower, the shadowy triangle of her privates could be seen.

“Gertie! Come here at once!”

A mobcap on her salt-and-pepper hair, the middle-aged maidservant bustled through the doorway to the bedchamber. A smile wreathed her plain features as she caught sight of Maddy. “Why, 'tis a perfect fit. His lordship will be most pleased.”

“It's far too revealing!”

“Bah, 'tis what Lord Rowley bade me purchase. ‘Somethin' fine that'll please a bridegroom,' he said. And then he winked at me.” She giggled. “'Tis what he wanted ye t' wear on yer weddin' night.”

Nathan must have won over the dour maidservant with one of his dimpled smiles, Maddy thought in exasperation. “Well, I would prefer my usual nightdress. Where is it?”

“'Tis buried somewhere, I suppose,” Gertie said, with a vague wave at the three trunks that had been delivered while Maddy was at dinner. The maid trotted over to one and returned with a flimsy robe made of white silk trimmed with costly lace. “But this'll help cover ye. 'Tis another bride gift from his lordship.”

Maddy suspected it would be useless to ask the maid to search for the more modest nightgown. Gertie would only claim it was lost. And the robe
did
look exquisitely soft and beautiful.

Slipping her arms into the flowing sleeves, she tied the sash tightly at her waist and drew the lapels together to camouflage her bosom. In the pier glass, she looked somewhat more respectable, though the garment still skimmed her figure in a most provocative manner. She blushed to imagine standing before Nathan in such scanty attire and being ogled by those intense green eyes.

A contrary mix of desire and doubt churned inside her. She
wanted
to experience the intimate act of lovemaking, Maddy reminded herself. After all, she had arranged the auction for the purpose of choosing a lover. What difference should it make that she'd ended up with a husband instead?

Because she had not foreseen all the drama, that was why.

From the start, she'd known of his desire to punish his aristocratic family. But the full extent of his hatred for his father hadn't become clear until she'd entered Gilmore House today and witnessed the clash between the two men. Nathan was using her to inflict turmoil upon the orderly routine of this household. And it disturbed Maddy that sweet, naïve Lady Emily could be hurt in the process …

“Poor thing, ye look a bundle of nerves,” Gertie said in a kindly tone. “Sit now an' I'll brush yer hair. Like I used t' do when ye was a little girl.”

Maddy plopped down on the stool in front of the dressing table. The surface was far too pristine, and she felt a sudden keen ache for the familiarity of her cluttered room at the theater with its abundance of pots and jars. The oval mirror reflected her pale features as she helped Gertie pluck out the pins, letting her blond locks tumble down her back.

“I can see now why you weren't here before dinnertime,” Maddy said to distract herself. “You went shopping at Lord Rowley's request.”

The maid ran the bristled brush through Maddy's long hair. “'Twasn't just that. He also bade me deliver the rejections, too.”

“Rejections?”

“Aye, t' the other lords who bid on ye.”

Maddy frowned at the maid's reflection in the mirror. “
What?
I never wrote any such notes.”

“Lord Rowley did so on yer behalf.” Clearly approving of his highhandedness, Gertie resumed her brushing. “He told those gents ye're his wife now an' they're not t' bother ye no more.”

Maddy was too stunned to be calmed by the rhythmic strokes of the brush. In all the preparations for the hasty wedding, she hadn't spared a thought to notifying the disqualified gentlemen. She ought to be incensed that Nathan would make such a move without consulting her. The auction was, after all,
her
doing.

Yet if truth be told, she felt relieved at being spared that chore.

In particular, Lord Dunham would no longer pursue her now that she had a husband. Her cousin wouldn't be lurking around every corner, waiting to force his attentions on her. But how would he react when—if—they met in society?

Maddy refused to think about that now. Nothing else mattered except this night when she would give herself to a man she scarcely knew. A man who could smile and charm when it suited him, yet who regarded his own father with brutal loathing.

Restless, she jumped up from the stool. “His lordship should be here soon. You had better finish unpacking.”

“Aye, milady.”

Her bare feet silent on the soft carpet, Maddy paced through the doorway and into the vast bedchamber with its rose and green décor. Never in her life had she imagined living in such luxury. Numerous candles cast a warm glow over the French-style furnishings, the chaise by the tall windows, the upholstered chairs by the fire. On the large canopied bed, the apple-green coverlet had been turned down invitingly, while a sea of plump feather pillows lined the gilt headboard.

Very soon, she would lie there with Nathan.

Her insides squeezed again. When would he come to her? What would he say? Was he still fuming?

He and his father had joined the ladies in the drawing room not long after dinner. Both men had looked furious after their brief time alone together. It was clear they'd quarreled, and she burned to know the source of their enmity.

At the earl's request, Emily had entertained the group by playing the pianoforte for the better part of an hour. Afterward, Nathan had declared it time for him and his bride to retire for the night. He'd aimed a hard stare at his father before pressing a warm kiss to Maddy's cheek.
Go on up, darling. I'll join you very soon.

It had all been for show, she knew. All the lovey-dovey nonsense was merely a trick to needle his father. She'd returned here over half an hour ago, and with every tick of the ormolu clock on the marble mantel, she wondered where Nathan was, what could be delaying him.

Had he and the earl quarreled about
her
?

She felt uncomfortable in the role that had been assigned to her. Playing the uncouth, jabbering strumpet would only taint Lady Emily with scandal when the girl made her debut. But the stage had been set, the first act set in motion, and how could the script be altered now?

Troubled, Maddy paced back into the dressing room to find Gertie arranging unmentionables in a drawer. It occurred to Maddy that she'd seen nothing of Nathan's belongings. “Where are his lordship's things?”

“In the connecting room. 'Tis the way of the gentry fer a husband and wife t' sleep in separate chambers.”

“Oh?” That was welcome news. It meant she'd have a private retreat from him—and this gloomy household. “Well, I'm glad to hear it.”

Gertie chuckled. “Ye might change yer mind once his lordship has his way with ye.”

“I very much doubt that.”

“Time will tell, milady.” The maid's smile took on a certain wistfulness. “Ah, 'tis a fine thing t' address ye as ‘milady.' Yer mam would be so proud t' see ye take yer rightful place in society.”

Maddy grasped the woman's chapped hands. “Gertie, I meant to warn you. You must never mention my connection to the Duke of Houghton, not to anyone. Nobody here must know about my past.”

“But Lord Gilmore would be happy t' learn of yer blue blood.”

“Nevertheless, you'll promise me.
Please
.”

Gertie gave a reluctant nod. “Aye, milady, I won't betray ye.” She shooed Maddy out of the dressing chamber. “Now, run along t' bed. 'Tis best ye wait for his lordship there.”

Returning to the bedchamber, Maddy spied a door half hidden in the shadows of the far corner. That must be the one connected to Nathan's quarters. The coil of tension inside her tightened. A part of her yearned for him to join her—yet another part hoped he would stay away.

Perhaps getting into bed had its merits. If she was ensconced beneath the covers, he couldn't gawk at her in this revealing nightdress. Darkness would be preferable, as well.

Intending to blow out all the candles, Maddy headed toward a table near the fireplace. She was halfway there when the rattle of a doorknob froze her in place. In the next instant, the connecting door swung open.

 

Chapter 11

Her husband stepped into the bedchamber. Their eyes locked as he paused in the doorway. Tall and intimidating, he wore a robe of forest-green silk tied with a gold cord at his lean waist. He wasn't smiling. The harsh angles of his face hid all trace of those attractive dimples.

No one would mistake Nathan Atwood, Viscount Rowley, for a proper gentleman. Not with his shoulder-length black hair drawn back by a leather thong at the back of his neck. Not with his brawny muscled build and the sun-burnished tone of his skin. And certainly not with the avid manner in which he eyed her.

His bold gaze swept over her as if he could see right through both her negligee and the gossamer nightgown beneath it. Perhaps he could.

Maddy crossed her arms in an instinctive attempt to shield herself. Other men had looked at her with lust, but none had seen her in such scanty attire with her hair unbound. It was jarring to reflect that she'd met Nathan only two nights ago.

Although they'd exchanged solemn vows in church, he was still very much a stranger to her. She knew little of his private thoughts. When she'd agreed to participate in his scheme, Maddy had only had a glimpse of his dark side. Rather, he'd seemed to possess the arrogantly charming nature of many noblemen. But the witty gentleman who'd coaxed her into this hasty marriage had vanished.

Perhaps he had never truly existed.

In his place was a ruthless lord who'd wed her for the purpose of vengeance. The hatred he'd directed toward his father today had been unsettling, to say the least. If Nathan was capable of holding such a powerful grudge for so many years, it stood to reason he might be dangerous, volatile, aggressive.

How much could she really trust him?

Shutting the door, he walked toward her, watching her closely as if to identify her weaknesses. Fear leaped inside her, the fear of being at the mercy of such a dominant male. Would he take her straight to bed? Would he strip her naked and ravish her? A sizzle of excitement scorched her veins. Her knees wobbled and she reached out to grip the back of a chair. The clash of emotions within her made no sense. How could she dread him and crave him all at the same time?

As he drew near, Nathan veered suddenly toward the fireplace. Only then did she notice that he carried a champagne bottle and two glasses, which he placed on a side table. There was something civilized about his action that helped to assuage her nerves.

Coming closer, he put his hands on her shoulders. The warmth of the contact quickened her heartbeat. But if he intended to seduce her, he made no move to do so. “Madelyn, I must say—”

He broke off at the sound of footsteps behind her. Gertie trotted into sight and bobbed a curtsy, her manner respectful. “Good evening, Lord Rowley. Should ye or milady be wantin' anything else?”

His attention flicked to the maid. “No. And pray see to it that we are not disturbed for the remainder of the night.”

His deep voice held the promise of intimate secrets soon to be unveiled. He still gripped Maddy's shoulders, and she wondered what it would feel like for his hands to slide all over her body. She wanted him kiss her again as he'd done at the close of their wedding ceremony. To overwhelm her so that she didn't have to think.

The maid left, the door shutting quietly. Nathan stepped away, leaving Maddy frustrated. As he went to pour champagne, she said rather breathlessly, “What did you mean to tell me just now?”

He brought a glass and pressed it into her hand. Their fingers brushed and a spark scurried up her arm, raising the fine hairs on her skin. Nathan lifted his own flute in a toast, clinking glasses with her. “I wanted to offer you my compliments on a fine performance today. You could not have been more perfect in your role.”

She took a sip of champagne, the bubbles bursting on her tongue. “I'm not sure your family would agree with you.”