Seducing the Beast (35 page)

“I made a mistake.”

“Aye, you ruddy well did,” her father bellowed, “
your lordship
.”

“I want her, captain. I mean to have her.”

Typical arrogance, she mused. What would he do? Drag her out by the feet? Let him damn well try it. Her heat thumped with such hard and rapid force, she feared it might loosen her teeth.

“What of my daughter’s wants?”

Griff swept his fingers through his hair, groaning. “In truth, I don’t know what she wants.” He cast her a sly glance. “I never got much sense out of her.”

“Well, Maddie.” Her father stood suddenly and strode to her side, finally done with his game. “What do you say? Shall you hear him out?”

She replied peevishly, “Let him speak then. I suppose I might be amused by it. But I haven’t got all day. Some of us have work to do.” She swung the poker in readiness. “We can’t all be bone idle because we were born filthy rich.”

Still in his chair, Griff shook his head slowly, hands on his broad thighs. “See, captain? Here is the danger of raising a woman to have her own opinions.”

Laughing benignly, her father reached for an hourglass on the mantle and turned it. “I’ll give you one hour to woo my daughter. If, at the end of that time, I find her still holding you at bay, you’ll leave this house, Milord Fancy-Breeches, and never see her again. Am I understood?”

She thought Griff would leave the house in a fit of temper. It seemed doubtful anyone had ever spoken to him the way her father did and got away with it, but he stayed, battling his most persistent demons.

“And don’t come to me moping and sorry if she gives you short shrift for your trouble,” her father added with a sniff. “I give you a second chance, which is more than I give any other wastrel or addle-pated bugger who comes to court my daughters.” He wrestled the poker from Maddie’s hands, strode over to where the earl stood, slapped him hard on one shoulder and muttered dryly, “Good luck to you, Fancy-Breeches. You’ll need it.”

Keeping the poker, he left the house, joining the rest of the family outside in the yard, where they no doubt pretended to be occupied with chores, while secretly listening for the sound of thrown plate.

Madolyn considered making a run for the door, but knew Griff would get there first.

“I thought I’d never forgive you for what you’ve done to me,” he said thickly. “Alas, now you’re here in front of me again, and so damnably lovely. By God, I could forgive you any sin, do anything for you, walk through fire if you wanted it.”

Through the window over his shoulder, iron gray clouds bubbled, surely a fearful omen. “There’s no need to get excited,” she muttered, not certain he was entirely sober. If he started reciting poetry, she feared she might laugh until her knees gave out.

He suddenly reached under his collar to show what he wore around his neck--her little white shell on that leather cord. “This told me I might have a chance, Madolyn. Perhaps you forgave me.”

Embarrassed by the humble gift, she looked away. “I wanted to send you a token in return for what you did for Nathaniel. It was the only thing I had.”

“I’ve worn it since the day it arrived. It gave me courage. Now here I am.”

He caught her limp hand to pull her closer, but she resisted, still not certain what to make of this. It was unsettling to have him in her world, where everything seemed cramped suddenly, plain and humble. She was aware of their stockings and petticoats hung to dry before the fire, of wooden toys scattered across the floor, her own sewing box, open and messy from her earlier hasty search of an errant pincushion. Ah, but this was her life, her family, and there was nothing shameful in it. The truth now was laid open on all sides.

Outside the window, clouds churned. The first sprinkle of drops tickled the crooked lattice panes.

“My
heart aches, Madolyn,” he whispered, trying to move her closer.

She was skeptical. “How can a stone ache? Are you sure ’tis your
heart
aching?”

Now his lips were tight again, the way she remembered them.

When she tried to pull her hand away, he clung to it, rendering her fingers numb, not knowing his own strength again. “Release me at once,” she hissed. “I have many important things to do and…and my family waits in the rain.You embarrass me!”

“Do I? This is nothing to what I’ll do if you refuse me.”

“I’m sick and tired of your commands.”

He wound both arms around her. “Now ’tis my turn to cling to you, eh, limpet? We’ll see whose will is strongest.”

“Remove your filthy, villainous paws from my person!” Alas, even as she cursed, she felt the old, impish feistiness which no amount of somber warning ever tempered. With his bastard babe already flourishing strong in her belly, she thought in despair, one would think she’d learned her lesson. It seemed not.

Rain spat harder against the windows and rattled down the chimney. She knew what her family must think—
trust Maddie to choose a rainstorm for her great moment
. All they needed now was hailstones and lightning.

“What about your wife?” she blurted. “What about the child she carries?”

He sighed, half laughing. “Why did you never tell me she’d been to the house? For pity’s sake woman, I could have told you that child wasn’t mine. I haven’t shared a bed with her for almost eighteen years.”

“Oh.” Her heart slowed.

“And the marriage will be annulled, as it should have been years ago.” He brought her hand to his lips, his other arm still around her waist. “Now, how shall I court you, Madolyn? What do I do?” He pressed his lips to her knuckles. “This is new to me, you see. I’ve never been in love before, but I’ll learn, if you teach me.”

* * * *

He looked down at their joined hands, marveling at how her fingers were dwarfed by his. So much of importance to him was contained in this one, compact, curvaceous package it seemed impossible she was not ten feet tall with the hands of a giant.

“You’re not the only one with much to learn, Griff,” she admitted ruefully.

By now he knew it was as rare for her to admit a weakness as it was for him. Hope swelled in his tentative heart. “You should have told me about Wickes.”

“I thought you’d be angry with me.”

Whenever he pictured Wickes sneaking into her room with foul intent, fury writhed in his gut, but it hurt even more that she imagined he would blame her. He’d been a fool, trying to prove himself impervious to love. Because of it, she could have come to harm, afraid to go to him for help.

But as he told her, this was new to him. He was learning as he went. It was like walking in the dark with wide-open eyes, waiting to stumble, yet with her hand in his they would find their way. “No more secrets,” he decreed. “And never fear to tell me anything.”

With a teary smile, she nodded.

“Come home with me,” he whispered, “or must I steal you away on my horse again in the night?” Before she could answer, he added, “I’ve a few things to tell you which might sway your decision.”

“Oh?”

“It may interest you to know, Matthew has come back to his post.”

She smiled. “Good.”

“And there is more,” he said smugly.

“More?”

“I am minded to move the chairs in my bedchamber from the fireplace to the window.” He paused. “Only for the summer. One change at a time. It’s a start, is it not?”

Now she laughed. It was a melodious sound he’d missed these past weeks without her. “Indeed, I wouldn’t want you to overdo it, sir.”

Encouraged by her smile, his words flowed freely at last. “Madolyn Rose Carver will you allow me to take care of you now?”

She looked nonplussed for a moment.

He waited, trying to be patient, trembling with the effort, dreadfully conscious of his ugly size and wishing he had smooth hands to hold her instead of two great, clumsy claws.

“Griff?” she asked quickly. “What do you ask of me?”

“To marry me, of course.” He felt the blood rushing out of him. “Did I not say?”

She stared. He could feel her heart thumping as she crumpled against him. “But…you need the queen’s permission.”

“Already granted. It gave her great pleasure. She dearly loves to win a wager.” He grimaced. “She’s eager to meet you. Seems to think you’ve improved me greatly, although I never thought I needed any improvement.”

She was still breathing too hard. “And…children…you don’t want…”

His arms tightened around her. “We’ll have ten of ’em--a dozen even.”

“I think one or two might be sufficient,” she exclaimed, her tone bemused.

“As you wish. Whatever you choose, sweetheart, I’m at your disposal.”

This rare humility only made her laugh, much to his chagrin.

“And when did you decide to love me after all?” she teased, lifting on tiptoe, sliding her arms around his neck. “When there was no one to quarrel with suddenly?”

His answer was somber, steady and from the heart. “There was never a moment when I didn’t love you.”

A fragmented breath of surprise and joy escaped her lips, before she could temper it with any ladylike decorum. She was trying, he saw, to restrain herself and keep that untamed spirit under greater control.

Dare he believe she tried to impress him? He didn’t want her to change, not ever.

“Madolyn, you needn’t--”

“Do you mind if they come soon, these children of ours?” she interrupted, stepping back.

“We’ll begin immediately.”

Taking his large hand, she laid it to her. “Good, because I’m afraid she couldn’t wait. She takes after you and I.”

Lips parted, he looked at his hand on her belly, and his world, which had fallen apart many times of late and been stitched back together in a new pattern, now tore apart again.

His child. Their child. Oh Christ! How did one raise a child? It seemed a formidable responsibility. He knew no one who did it without fault.

But her gaze was confident, merry, not in the least fearful. He envied her the boundless courage which let her leap where others faltered and doubted. He had much to learn from her and this child was charmed, protected by her love already, a priceless gift. His heart turned over in an odd sideways flip.
Their
child. It was almost too much to take in.

He felt a slow smile fumble across his face, unstoppable, like this woman who’d breached all his defenses and threatened to turn him into a quivering, love-struck milk-sop, if she didn’t put him out of his misery. “Do you love me, Madolyn?”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course I do, for pity’s sake. You’ve always known it. You were just too stubborn to believe.” And she flung her arms around his shoulders, locking her fingers at his nape. “I’m so in love with you, I can’t think of letting you go anywhere without me again.”

His heart sang and he was only glad no one but he could hear the tuneless debacle. “That had better be a ‘yes’ to marriage then, madam.”

Blushing, she rose on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. He leaned down to hear her reply, for it came in a timid voice, and then his shoulders moved, he bent his legs and lifted her off her feet, no more words necessary.

The door crashed open and her mother burst in, anxious to get out of the rain. “Honestly,” she exclaimed. “Children! Both of you. To have quarreled and fought, when all you wanted was to be together. So much ado about nothing.”

Behind her the rest of the family piled in, the romantic moment shattered.

No one saw that he held Maddie’s hand, his finger stroking her palm. He felt more than a little proud of himself, especially when her father raised the hour glass to examine the sand, exclaiming, “Less than a quarter hour, I reckon. I underestimated you, Fancy-Breeches.”

“I had to accept him,” she complained, “because you were stuck out there in the rain. What else could I do?”

They all laughed, except Griff, who wasn’t entirely certain she teased.

* * * *

Her mother decided she’d better put a proper distance between them. Of course, since the runaway filly had returned in foal, bolting the barn door now was too little, too late, but for the sake of propriety they were forced to behave themselves.

“Our guest shall sit at the head of the table,” her mother said firmly. “And you will sit by John and keep an eye on him, if you please.”

Oh, the indignity! To sit beside that five-year-old menace was almost more than Madolyn could bear. Thus she and Griff were separated by the length of a table and must be content with looking and smiling. She envied each morsel that crossed his lips. When he lifted his cup, she lifted hers. Then, watching her sip, he let his lips linger upon the rim of his cup. His eyes spoke volumes, none of them scriptures.

He loved her. The Beast,
her
beast, loved her.

She worried he might mention his wealth and title, those embarrassing matters, but he didn’t mention them and was not in the least arrogant, even when John threw a piece of carrot across the table and it landed in his cider. He merely gave a pained smile, picking it out with his long fingers, listening to her mother and nodding, as if he gave her his full attention. If one didn’t know any differently, one would think him quite a humble, polite, normal person, Maddie mused lovingly.

She wasn’t itching anymore, she realized. He must have scratched all those itches for her.

“I daresay, Fancy-breeches,” her father said, “you’ll spoil my wretched daughter until she is even more intolerable.” He waved his hand. “You’ll pander to her every fool whim, no doubt.”

“Captain, she has me utterly at her mercy.”

Her father nodded, grimly reassured. “Aye. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

When her mother asked how they’d met, Griff said simply, “I fished her out of the Thames.”

No one in the family was the slightest bit shocked by this, although her father said he should have thrown her back in.

Maddie looked at Griff and felt her heart glow with a pleasant, comfortable warmth.She imagined him in the future, always relating that story to anyone who asked how they met.He would like to shock them no doubt.

“I fished her out of the Thames,” he would say again, in that calm tone.