Protected by the Major (4 page)

No, she must not think of all she had lost. She must control her feelings and be careful to show nothing if they were forced to speak with Hallam at the reception.

* * *

By the time they arrived at the house and joined the line waiting to greet the bride and groom, Madeline was much calmer. She was able to bestow a warm smile on the bride and groom and wish them happiness and was in turn thanked for the beautiful gifts they had received. As Lethbridge had neglected to tell her what he’d considered fitting for the daughter of his old friend, she had no idea what those gifts were, but murmured something appropriate.

Moving away from the happy couple, Madeline was offered a glass of champagne, which she accepted and sipped delicately. It was very good and she could see that a wonderful buffet was awaiting the guests, with all kinds of delicious foods. She had little appetite, but would make an effort to eat something later.

The guests were mingling as the queue gradually wound to an end, and Madeline’s smile felt frozen on her lips as she saw Hallam enter the hall. Now people were beginning to approach the buffet and select their preferences.

‘Go ahead and join your friends, Madeline,’ Lethbridge said. ‘I wish to speak with someone on a matter of business.’

He always had another reason for attending any social event. Madeline moved away; she was relieved to be dismissed from her duty. There were a few people she knew well socially, but no one she would call a particular friend. However, she had met Lucy Dawlish once or twice during a stay at Bath and went to stand beside her, glancing at the loaded table.

‘How nice to see you,’ Lucy said and smiled at her. ‘Jenny looks beautiful, does she not?’

‘Yes, lovely,’ Madeline said. ‘I believe you are particular friends?’

‘Yes, we are,’ Lucy said. ‘Jenny has been exceptionally good to me and I shall miss her, though Mama says we shall travel abroad next month.’

‘How pleasant to spend the winter away in warmer climes,’ Madeline said, a little sigh leaving her. ‘Such an array of wonderful food—how does one choose?’

‘I think the crab tartlets look delicious,’ Lucy said, ‘and I always love a syllabub, do you not, Lady Lethbridge?’

‘Oh please, call me Madeline. Yes, I am partial to a syllabub but I suppose one ought to eat something savoury first. Perhaps I will try a tartlet, though the prawn, not the crab, I think...’

‘May I help you to choose, Lady Lethbridge?’ A man’s voice made Madeline’s heart jerk and she turned her head sharply to look at Hallam, as Lucy Dawlish moved further down the table.

‘Thank you, but I think I prefer to help myself.’ She moved away from Hallam, but he followed her, looking puzzled. Madeline felt compelled to explain. ‘Please...my husband watches everything I do. You must not pay me any attention.’

‘How ridiculous,’ Hallam said, frowning. ‘What harm can there be in a few words exchanged at a wedding?’

‘Please, leave me,’ Madeline said. ‘I beg you, do not continue with this...’

She moved away, putting tasty morsels on her plate without seeing what she was choosing. Hallam did not follow her and she found a place at a table with several other ladies, who were laughing and eating, clearly enjoying themselves. Madeline bit into a tart, but found it difficult to swallow the soft flaky pastry, which at any other time would have been delightful. What little appetite she’d had had quite vanished.

She sat silently, listening to the conversation flow around her, and sipping her wine now and then when the toasts were made, but her throat was tight with misery and her smile felt frozen. When Hallam called everyone to attention and began his speech as the groom’s best man, she could no longer bear it and excused herself, saying that she needed a little air, then got up and walked from the room.

She was aware that her progress was remarked and knew it was rude of her to leave during Hallam’s speech, but could not bear to stay another moment, for if she did not escape she would weep. She left the house through a side door and went out into the garden. She needed to be alone for a time, because she was so desperately unhappy. Seeing Hallam, speaking to him, had brought home her misery and she had rebuffed him more out of fear of giving into her tears than for fear of her husband. After all, what more could he do to her?

Walking swiftly, Madeline sought out a secret arbour amongst the roses and sat down, staring unseeingly at the beauty all around her. Her eyes filled with tears, which began to spill over as she realised how very much she had lost. She ought to have been braver, to have stood up to her father’s blandishments, and refused to marry the count. Yet if she had chosen happiness for herself, her family must have faced ruin. It was all too late. Regrets would not help her now.

She bowed her head, covering her face with her hands. How Hallam must hate her now—and she loved him still.

* * *

Hallam was feeling angry. He had meant to offer Madeline the courtesy any gentleman would offer a lady and she had rebuffed him in the coldest manner—and then she had left the room while he was making his speech. Had she meant to be deliberately rude? Yet she’d seemed agitated, even frightened. What had she said about her husband watching her every move?

Did Lethbridge mistreat his wife? Anger curled inside Hallam at the thought and he balled his fists at his sides. There was little he could do for the moment, because he did not wish to cause a scandal at his cousin’s wedding, but if he knew Maddie was being bullied or actually harmed he would kill Lethbridge with his bare hands!

Hearing the count laugh at something a rather grand lady was saying to him, Hallam knew that he could not bear to be in the same room with him. He must go out for a breath of air or he might explode. His hands itched to land a facer on the vile fellow and he turned away, walking swiftly from the room and out into the gardens.

He had been wandering for some minutes, his mind seething with anger and bitterness as he tried to come to terms with the tormented feelings inside him, when he heard the sound of a woman crying. Following the sound, he saw her sitting alone in a secluded rose arbour and his heart caught with pain.

‘Maddie,’ he said and walked swiftly to her side. ‘Please, you must tell me what is wrong. Does that devil hurt you? I swear I’ll kill him if he has harmed you.’

Madeline had risen to her feet at his approach. She looked about her anxiously, as if fearing that someone might see them. Her gloved hands held before her, she moved them restlessly, clearly in distress.

‘Hal, you should not have come,’ she said on a sob. ‘I know you mean to help me, but if he should see you he will think the worst. I...I cannot explain, but he imagines I have a lover and has demanded the man’s name. If he thought...’ Hallam reached out for her restless hands, catching them in his. ‘Oh, you must not...’ Her voice broke and a tear slid down her pale cheek.

‘Tell me, does he beat you?’

‘No, of course not,’ she said quickly, but in her agitation her stole had slipped and he saw the dark bruises on her upper arms. He exclaimed wrathfully and touched one gently with his finger, his mouth hardening as she flinched. ‘He did not beat me. He...pinches me when he is...frustrated.’

‘The evil brute!’ Hallam bent his head to kiss the bruise. ‘My sweet Maddie. I shall call him out and kill him.’

‘You must not,’ she said, her eyes wide with fear. ‘They would arrest you—and you might be tried for murder, even if he did not kill you first.’

‘Then I will force him to call me out,’ Hallam said. ‘Or you may run away with me, Maddie. You cannot wish to stay with such a brute?’

‘I never wanted to wed him,’ she confessed. ‘He holds my father’s notes and if I tried to leave him he would ruin my family. I cannot bring shame on my mother and sister. My father would bear it, but my family...where would they live? How would my sister ever find a suitor?’

‘It is unfair that you should sacrifice everything for them,’ Hallam said, staring at her in despair. ‘So you had no choice—you sent me away for their sakes? You do love me, Maddie. I know you do.’

‘No, you must not think it. You must forget me,’ she whispered, throat catching with emotion. ‘I am desperately unhappy, Hal, but I am caught fast in a trap and I cannot escape.’

He moved closer, looking down at her for a moment before he bent his head to kiss her lips. They parted beneath his and for a moment she allowed his kiss, but then, as his hand slid into the hair at her nape, she froze and moved away, turning her back to him as her shoulders shook.

‘I cannot...please, do not waste your life loving me. I can never be the wife you deserve.’ A sob broke from her then, ‘I never wanted to hurt you. Please believe me, Hal. I was forced to wed him and I cannot leave him no matter how I feel...’

‘I shall find a way to set you free of him somehow,’ Hallam said. He was reaching out to touch her cheek, but she flinched away when they heard someone call her name and the colour left her face.

‘I must go,’ she said and tears stood in her eyes. ‘Please forget me, forget what I just said. You cannot help me. Lethbridge would ruin my family and kill you. Honour demands that I keep the vows I made when I married. I beg you, forget me.’

Hallam tried to hold her, but she slipped away and walked from the rose arbour into the open garden. He heard the sound of voices and knew that she was speaking to her husband. The count’s voice was harsh and it took all Hallam’s will-power to stop himself from rushing out to confront him, but Maddie had begged him not to and he could not make a scene here.

He must seek Lethbridge out another day and see what could be done to help Maddie. If she would go with him, he would take her away to France or Italy. He had little fortune and she had none, but he would find a way of supporting them both somehow. His estate might be sold and perhaps he could become a soldier of fortune, offering his sword to any that would pay.

Yet she’d spoken of honour and her family’s ruin. It was foolish of her to think of honour when her husband was so cruel to her, but her family’s ruin was another matter. He could do little for them and he knew that she would never walk away from her unhappy marriage if it meant their downfall.

The only way was to force a quarrel on Lethbridge. If the count would call him out it would be an affair of honour, and though he might be brought before the magistrate and even imprisoned for a time, he would not hang for it. He thought that he would bear even that if necessary to free Maddie from what must be a living hell for her.

If the count would not call him out, he must be the one to do it and would probably have to flee to France until the storm blew over. His mind busy with his thoughts of revenge on the evil count, Hallam waited until he was sure he would not be seen leaving the rose arbour before returning to the reception. He did not wish Maddie to be punished for meeting him, for if her husband had seen them together he must have thought the worst.

Taking great care not to follow too close on the count and Madeline, he did not notice the servant lingering in the shrubbery, watching.

His mind with Madeline, Hallam could only pray that Lethbridge would not harm her again. Somehow, he must find a way to set her free. He would not think of his own future or the happiness he hoped to gain one day, but only of Maddie.

As a widow she would be safe and perhaps one day she would allow him to take care of her.

* * *

‘Who were you talking to?’ Lethbridge demanded, as he took his wife by the arm, pushing her in the direction of the courtyard where his coach was awaiting them. ‘I told you what I would do to you if you saw your lover again—and I shall thrash him.’

‘There is no one else,’ Maddie said, lifting her head defiantly. ‘You are foolish to be jealous, sir. I do not have a lover.’

‘Lying bitch,’ he muttered as he thrust her towards the coach. ‘Get inside. I’ll teach you to behave when I get you home.’

‘May I not say farewell to my friends?’

‘You chose to leave the reception and I am ready to leave,’ he said looking at her coldly. ‘I have made your goodbyes. I was forced to say you were feeling unwell.’

‘You did not lie, sir. It was because I had a terrible headache that I left the reception. I swear to you on my mama’s life that I did not go to meet anyone.’

Lethbridge glared at her. ‘You swear that you did not meet a lover, madam?’

‘I swear it,’ she said, but could not look at him.

He grabbed her arm, swinging her back to face him. ‘Swear it on your mother’s life or I shall thrash you when we get home.’

Madeline felt a surge of anger. Lifting her head, she looked him in the eyes. ‘I swear in on my own life, my mother’s—and anyone else’s you care to name. I did not meet my lover for I have no lover.’

Lethbridge stared at her for a moment, then inclined his head. ‘Very well, I shall accept your word—but if I discover you have lied to me you will be very sorry, madam.’

Madeline turned her face from him, the tears stinging her eyes, but she refused to weep or beg. He was a brute and she hated him. He had made her life intolerable and she would almost rather be dead than married to him. Yet if she took her own life, he would seek revenge from her family.

Her throat was tight with tears, for she could discover no way of escape. All she could do was to try to block out her unhappiness...and perhaps to allow her thoughts to drift back to the time when Hallam had made love to her so sweetly beneath the apple tree.

Yet even that memory was ruined for when Hallam kissed her, she’d known that something inside her had flinched away. How could it be that she could not welcome Hallam’s kisses when they had always been so sweet to her? Had her husband’s cruelty made it impossible for her to accept even the touch of the man she loved?

If that were the case, there was no help for her.

Chapter Three

H
allam looked at the invitation tucked into the gilt-framed mirror in the front parlour of his lodgings. He’d taken a small house in town for a time, though he was not certain what had made him decide to come up—but a chance remark from one of his friends had told him that Lethbridge and Madeline were in London for a few weeks. The invitation was to a prestigious ball and he was almost certain that Madeline and her husband would be there. Somehow, he must find a way to talk to her. Since speaking to her in the garden of Lord Ravenscar’s home, he had not been able to rest for thinking of her unhappiness.

Try as he might, Hallam had been unable to discover a solution to their problem. If it were not for her father’s debts to Lethbridge, he would have carried Maddie off with him, but he knew that she would not snatch at happiness for herself while condemning her family to ruin. Had Hallam the money, he would have paid her father’s debts, but he could not pay those his own father had left, without disposing of most of his estate. It seemed that the count had them in a cleft stick and there was no escape—but there must be! Lethbridge must have a chink in his armour. Hallam would just have to discover what it was and plan his strategy accordingly. If there were no other way, he must kill him. Yet he would prefer to get his hands on the notes Sir Matthew Morris had lost to the count and then force him to let Maddie go.

Hallam had never taken life in cold blood, and it would be his last resort, but if it was the only way...

Lethbridge was a gambler. It was possible that Hallam might contrive to win the notes from him. But would he part with them? Perhaps only if he were entirely ruined.

Somehow Hallam did not think it likely the count would gamble away his whole fortune just to please him. Yet gambling was the way to get close to him, he was sure. If Lethbridge should be at the ball, he would most likely spend much of his time in the card room. Hallam decided that he would attend. If he were fortunate, he would be able to speak to Maddie or perhaps, make an arrangement to meet in private...and if he could find the count at the tables he would find a way of making his acquaintance.

Yes, he would go to the ball that evening and discover what he could of the man who was causing Maddie so much unhappiness.

* * *

‘You look lovely, my lady,’ Sally said as she finished pinning Madeline’s fair hair into a knot of curls high on her head. One ringlet fell on to her shoulder and she wore a collar of magnificent diamonds about her throat, together with huge teardrop earbobs. Her gown was white, the bodice encrusted with tiny sparkling
diamanté
, which sprayed out like a stem of flowers over the skirt. Her shoes were white satin and the heels were also studded with crystals that caught the light whenever her skirt moved to reveal them.

‘You have done well,’ Madeline said and smiled at her. Sally had applied the merest touch of rouge to her cheeks after powdering her face and neck. Her bruises had faded since the wedding, because for some reason known better to himself, her husband had not come near her for the past ten days. ‘Thank you, Sally. I do not know what I should do without you.’

‘You know I would do anything for you, my lady.’ Sally would have said more, but at that moment the door from the count’s dressing room was thrown open and he entered his wife’s bedchamber. Madeline stood up and turned to face him. Inside, she was trembling, but she gave no outward sign of the fear and revulsion he aroused.

‘You look beautiful, madam,’ Lethbridge said. ‘That gown was worth its price. I am pleased you have made an effort, for I wish you to do something for me this evening.’

‘You may go, Sally.’ Madeline dismissed her maid and then looked at her husband. ‘How may I be of service, sir?’

‘I wish you to charm someone—a gentleman, a marquis. He is necessary to a scheme I have in mind. It will be of some considerable financial benefit to me if you can twist him around your little finger. I intend to ask him to dine here, but he has been evasive. If you smile on him, he will be eager to visit us.’

‘Are you asking me to encourage this gentleman to pay me compliments, to dangle after me?’ She was incredulous, for he had always been angry if she spoke more than a few words to another man.

‘To put it crudely, madam, I want you to make him mad with lust for you—if you can manage it? I find you too cold, but some men love a challenge and I’ve been told Rochdale cannot resist a woman who is not easily won.’

‘And if he should ask me to dance, or to walk outside in the air?’ She was trembling with indignation that he should ask such a thing of her but managed to hold her disgust inside.

‘Anything within reason. You will not allow him to bed you, Madeline, but if he imagines you might so much the better.’

‘I find your suggestion insulting, sir.’

‘Indeed?’ Lethbridge moved closer, a nerve flicking at his temple. ‘You know how to smile and charm, Madeline. You deceived me into believing you warm and loving before we were wed. Now I ask you to do the same to the marquis.’

Anger raged inside her as she said impulsively, ‘And if I do—what will you give me?’

His mouth tightened. ‘Do I not already give you sufficient, madam?’

‘I want nothing for myself, but I would have my father’s notes. You promised them when we married, but you reneged on your bargain. I ask for no more than my rights. My father lives in fear of you. Give me the notes and I shall do as you ask.’

He glared at her, reached for her wrist as if he would subdue her, then changed his mind. ‘Very well. Charm Rochdale into accepting an invitation to dine at our house and I will give you the notes.’

‘I do not trust you. Give them to me now and I swear I will do as you ask.’

‘You deserve that I should teach you a lesson,’ he threatened. ‘However, I need you to look at your best this evening. I will give you some of the notes now and the rest when you have finished your work.’

Madeline held out her hand. ‘Give me my father’s notes and I shall make every effort to charm this man for you.’

Lethbridge swore under his breath and went into the dressing room and through to his own chamber. Madeline could hardly believe that she had won and held her breath until he returned. He was carrying a bundle of notes, which he thrust at her.

Madeline glanced through them. Her father’s signature was scrawled on a dozen notes of sums from five hundred guineas to two thousand. Her fingers closed over them and she felt a thrill of triumph.

‘Is this all of them?’

‘Most,’ he said, clearly furious, but with a look in his eyes that told her he was lying. He held many more notes, she was certain, but she had recovered at least a part of her father’s debt. ‘You will get the rest when you’ve done as I wish.’

‘Thank you. You will not be angry if you see me dancing this evening, sir? I must make this gentleman a little jealous if you wish him to fall in love with me.’

‘Do whatever you need to bring him into my house and I shall do the rest.’

‘Very well,’ Madeline said, raising her head proudly. She had no idea why her husband was so eager to have the marquis dine with them, but she would find it a small price to pay if she could free her father from the shadow that had hung over him for so long. ‘Just one moment...’ She walked to the fireplace and cast the notes into the fire, watching with a smile as the flames consumed them. Had she left them in her drawer her husband might recover them by force or stealth. ‘I am ready now.’

Walking from the bedchamber with her husband close behind her, Madeline’s thoughts were racing. If she could but obtain the remainder of her father’s notes, she would be free. Money and jewels meant little to her. If her family were safe, she would leave her husband and go away somewhere quiet. She was not sure how she would live, but perhaps she could earn her living with her sewing needle.

* * *

Hallam saw Madeline almost as soon as he entered the ballroom. She was the centre of a small group of gentlemen, laughing as if she had not a care in the world. A picture of loveliness in white silk and lace embroidered with beads that sparkled like diamonds, she was magnificent, so far removed from the pale shadow of the girl he loved that he’d seen at Adam’s wedding that he could scarce believe his eyes. She’d wept and told him that she feared her husband’s jealousy if he saw her speaking to Hallam and yet now she was flirting with the men that clustered about her. Had she deceived him to the true nature of her life?

Just what kind of a woman was she—and could he trust anything she said?

He stood for several minutes just watching her laughing and teasing one of the men in particular—by his elaborate clothes and exquisite laces, he was a wealthy nobleman. Hallam had never met the gentleman, but his jewels flashed in the light of the candelabra and his clothes were fashioned by the best tailors, though in Hallam’s eyes his cravat was too high, his collars too wide for taste. He was one of the dandy set. Hallam’s lips curled in disgust as he saw the man carried a fan and, still worse, wore rouge on his cheeks—a fashion that had long since been discarded by most men in England. He was a man of middle years, thin with a cruel mouth, and he wore a powdered wig. Another fashion Hallam scorned as being foppish.

He preferred the clean, plain look that Mr Brummell had brought into fashion before he’d fallen so deep into debt and been forced to flee abroad, leaving an unpaid gambling debt—something no gentleman would ever do unless forced. Society had turned against Brummell, though Alvanly and some others were known to speak of him kindly and to send him money in his exile in France.

Why was Madeline looking up at that fop in such a coquettish manner? He had never seen her flirt with anyone so outrageously. As a girl she’d had shy pretty manners that had touched his heart, but now...he hardly knew her. If her husband were truly the brute she’d described to him, how dare she behave so recklessly?

A glance around the ballroom told Hallam that Lethbridge was not in the room to witness his wife flirting with the fop. Frowning, Hallam watched as she gave her hand to one of the other gentlemen and was whisked off to the dance floor. Her ardent suitor seemed annoyed—or perhaps frustrated. He had the look of a hunter intent on cornering his prey.

‘How are you, Ravenscar?’ The voice at his elbow distracted Hallam. He turned to look at the gentleman, a fellow officer who had seen service in France with him. ‘She is a beauty, isn’t she? But off limits unless you wish Lethbridge to call you out. I’ve heard he is like a dog with a bone over his wife as a rule.’

‘Good to see you, Mainwaring. Who is the wealthy fop?’ Hallam nodded in the direction of the frustrated suitor. ‘He looks dangerous.’

‘Yes, I dare say he might be. I’ve heard he is a crack shot and even more deadly with the sword. He was in France with us, though a line regiment, has some French relations, I understand. Rich, they say...some whisper he absconded with jewels,
objets d’art
and pictures that belonged to Napoleon in the last days of his reign. They also say his relations worked for the secret police in the time of the Terror and became rich by robbing the wretches condemned to be guillotined. Marquis of Rochdale...the third of his line, I believe.’

‘A pretty fellow, by all accounts, and old enough to be the countess’s father.’

‘Perhaps she likes them that way. Lethbridge must be twelve years her senior.’

‘She married to save her family from ruin,’ Hallam replied, stung to defend Madeline, even though he felt annoyed with her for flirting so openly—and for spinning him that tale at the wedding.

Yet she had been crying when he discovered her in the rose arbour. Something was wrong, but he could not decide what to believe.

Moving on, Hallam greeted friends and danced with a couple of ladies—wives of his particular friends—and his hostess, but most of the first part of the evening he spent watching Maddie. She danced several times, twice with the Marquis of Rochdale. He began to notice that she behaved far more demurely with her other partners, actually seeming a little reserved, but let down her guard whenever she was speaking with the marquis.

What on earth did she think she was doing? Did she not realise that to flirt so dashingly with a man like that was to play with fire? Unless, of course, she wished him to think her available. The girl he remembered would not be so fast or so foolish.

It came to Hallam in a blinding flash. She was deliberately leading Rochdale on! What on earth had got into her? Did she not know that Rochdale was dangerous? The marquis was not a man to be trifled with—surely she must sense that she was in danger of being seduced by the man?

* * *

At the supper interval he saw her seated at a table with two other ladies and a little cluster of gentlemen. He’d hoped that perhaps he might have an opportunity of speaking with her, but the men vied with each other to fetch her drinks and delicate trifles and she was never alone.

Annoyed and frustrated, he decided to take a walk in the gardens and smoke a cheroot. He’d come to the ball to speak to Madeline before deciding on a course of action, but now it seemed that perhaps she did not need rescuing from her husband. Perhaps her tears had been the result of a quarrel and meant little.

He was wasting his time here, he decided. Having finished his small cigar, he threw the butt into the flowerbeds. Walking towards the house, he had made up his mind to take his leave of his hostess when he heard a cry from behind one of the shrubs.

‘No, sir! I did not give you leave to molest me—’

‘You have been leading me on all evening,
madame
. Am I to understand that you did so without the intention of responding to my ardour?’

‘You go too fast, sir,’ the voice Hallam knew as Maddie’s replied. ‘A little flirtation does not mean—’ There was a little cry of alarm and the sound of a struggle. ‘No, no!’

Striding towards the scene, Hallam saw the marquis trying to force Maddie to lie back on a bench in a small summerhouse at the far edge of the lawns. His intention was all too obvious; he was bent on having his way with her. She might have brought it on herself by flirting so outrageously, but Hallam could see that she was trying to throw the fellow off and he strode towards them, grabbing the marquis by his coat collar and hauling him off her.