The Vengeful Bridegroom (20 page)

The irony was not lost on Madelene, considering it was only a short time ago that she had begged her brother to take her home. Now she wanted him gone, and she would remain behind, willingly.

Matthew leaned an elbow on the table and held his right side. She noticed he had always shown a weak side before he was attacked. Shaking his head, he told her, “Mad, I’m surprised at you. I would have believed you would want someone on your side here in this house, although I am in no condition to defend you.”

Madelene started, her mouth dropped. “Defend me from whom?”

“It is no secret there are goings-on here and someone means you harm. Perhaps your own husband?”

She couldn’t have been more astonished and affronted. “However can you believe such a thing, and even more, speak on it? I will not have you slander my husband in our own home. I want you to seriously consider a departure from here at the earliest opportunity.” Afraid she might sound too harsh to her own brother, she relented, “It would be best for all of us. You need to get on with your life, as do we here.”

“Dear sister, this can be easily resolved. I will inquire one last time. Will you or won’t you speak to your husband about the diamonds?” Like an inebriate with his liquor, he wouldn’t let go.

What else could she do? “If it will hasten your departure, I will have a word with him. If he has nothing more to say on the subject, than neither will I. Are we agreed?”

Matthew shrugged, then nodded. With a slight curve to his lips, he told her, “You may be surprised at what he knows.”

“Matthew, you do weary me. I’ll leave you to your breakfast and see to George.” She headed for the door for respite from her onerous brother.

“Madelene, I find it hard to believe you are eager to care for another woman’s babe,” he said to her with a most innocent look on his countenance.

At the door, she closed her eyes and bowed her head. “He’s a mere babe.
George
belongs here.” She didn’t turn around but left her brother. As she climbed the stairs, she wondered if he had always been so selfish and ill-tempered, and she had never realized it before.

Finished with breakfast and her brother, Madelene decided to look in on George, then go for a walk. Perhaps a walk would clear her head.

She met Charlotte at the door of the nursery. Charlotte, the nurse from Town, smiled brightly, a small little thing, with red hair and blue eyes, who originally hailed from Ireland. She had made immediate friends with most of the staff, from what Fanny had told her. Except for the fact she and Donna Bella had sparred once or twice.

Madelene returned the smile. “And how is our boy today, Charlotte?”

“Very well, madam. Oh, look at the babe with those big eyes. Wide awake, he is! Come, little one, let’s see to you.” Charlotte picked the babe up and walked over to Madelene. “Mrs. Westcott, would you like to hold little George? He’s ever such a good baby. Don’t hardly cry at all, except when he’s hungry. And mistress, he has such an appetite. Donna Bella and I wonder where he puts it all.”

Not having spent much time in her presence before, Madelene was surprised at the nurse’s loquaciousness. When Charlotte handed the baby to Madelene, little George looked up at her and smiled, then giggled. He yawned, but his eyes never left hers. Eyes that were either green to light brown or light brown to green.

“Oh you are a precious one, you are,” she whispered to him and kissed him on the forehead.

She spent the morning in peaceful company with George and Charlotte before venturing downstairs.

Outside the library, Alec stood waiting for her. Madelene’s eyes widened in surprise, since Alec had returned to female clothes again. Why the change? Madelene reluctantly thought the young woman very attractive, with her large blue eyes, pale skin, and even with her short curly blond hair. And wherever had she found the pale yellow dress she wore that fit her form so well? Was it possible she continued to hold an attachment to her husband?

“Mrs. Westcott, I would, I think you should know something about your husband. Perhaps if we could talk in here?” The woman gestured to the library doors.

Madelene started. Why would Alec want to speak to her? Sighing, she nodded and followed the young woman into the library.

One of the maids had opened the burgundy drapes earlier, letting the sunlight stream into the room in dusty rays. Bookcases from floor to ceiling covered every wall, but most of the books were hardly ever touched, Gabriel had told her. These bookcases contained mainly law books from his uncle’s work and his hobby of ornithology.

When they were seated across from each other in the center of the room on the divans, Alec looked at Madelene, her face emotionless. She would not make a very good actress, Madelene thought.

“It is difficult to tell you this. I have thought a long while before I decided it best to present you with this information.”

“Indeed. Pray tell, why the urgent need at this time?” Madelene could not quite keep the irritation out of her voice.

“I believe it safe now that Mr. Westcott is gone. And you need to know what he is capable of.”

Madelene closed her eyes and shook her head. “You have insinuated these lies before, what makes you think you could convince me, that you could speak the truth?”

Alec continued in her monotonous tone. “I had my reasons earlier. You should know I met Mr. Westcott and his sister in Florence where I lived with my uncle. I made the acquaintance of the Westcotts through mutual friends at a baptism for the youngest child.

“When I realized the Westcotts understood only a little Italian, I offered to explain to them. Over the months, I slowly turned to Mr. Westcott for comfort because my Uncle Giovanni is very demanding. I wanted to spend little time with him, and Mr. Westcott offered his home. He was very kind to me. When his sister became sick, I could help him.”

Madelene could hardly contain her impatience. “Indeed, that was very gracious on your part to help care for his sister. But what particular news do you have which would be of import to me?” This young woman’s story was beyond tedium.

Alec hesitated briefly. “We fell in love.”

Madelene’s jaw dropped. She jumped from her seat. “Impossible. I cannot believe you. I know Mr. Westcott would not have you remain in this house with myself as his wife. When Mr. Westcott returns, I will request you leave our house immediately.” This woman’s declarations were a complete figment of her fanciful mind.

As Madelene headed to the door, she heard Alec say, “I know you believe someone is trying to kill you. It is your husband.” The young woman had risen and followed her, calm and collected, as if they merely discussed the weather.

Taking a deep breath, Madelene turned to confront the young woman and knew she lied. With narrowed eyes, she told her harshly, “I don’t believe you. I don’t believe any of your banbury story. You have taken advantage of my husband’s hospitality and his kindness toward you. I can assure you, you
will
vacate our home the moment Mr. Westcott returns.”

Alec looked nonplussed. “Whose baby do you think lies upstairs in the nursery? You may be surprised to learn Mr. Westcott will not be as anxious for me to leave as you are.” The young woman slipped out the door Madelene unwittingly held open for her, in mute disbelief.

Surely, this cannot be true. Unfathomable.
Could she actually be caring for her husband and Alec’s baby?

Madelene stood in the doorway biting her nails, an old habit she thought long ago conquered. She had a choice to make. She could either spend the rest of the week in her bedchamber and the nursery or continue her daily routine and confront her husband upon his return.

On her way to the kitchen to speak with Mrs. Lavishtock, she determined no one would take George from her.

Still annoyed from her recent interview, Madelene finally composed herself when she learned Gabriel had left a brief note for her with Mrs. Lavishtock, which explained his sudden departure and eased her mind. He hadn’t left without thinking about her.

She decided one of the first conversations she’d have with Mr. Westcott would entail Alec. Madelene refused to consider that he had or ever could harbor any affection whatsoever for that little Italian girl, the moniker she secretly gave Alec.

Luckily for Alec, she didn’t approach Madelene again that week, or Madelene would surely have forgotten her manners and boxed the young woman’s ears.

In Mr. Westcott’s absence, Madelene and Mrs. Lavishtock kept busy planning the house party for the ensuing Tuesday night. Invitations were posted and those still in the country accepted, probably due to both curiosity and boredom.

Excitement skittered through the servants and extra help from the village, although the number of acceptances numbered only old Mr. and Mrs. Tottencott; Squire Jones and his daughter, Rachel; the Vicar Caring; Mr. Bush; and the ladies, Hyacinth, Rose, and Lavender McMartin, apparently named after their mother’s favorite flowers, or so the story went. Many renowned families still enjoyed the London Season and could not attend.

Relieved it would be an intimate gathering, Madelene and Mrs. Lavishtock planned a fine menu of several removes. After dinner, Madelene thought they could play whist or faro, and perhaps one of her neighbors played the pianoforte.

If asked, she would not have relayed how nervous she was in meeting her neighbors. She understood to curry positive favor with Lavender McMartin and Mrs. Tottencott would grant opened doors throughout the county for her.

Any hope of making a fine wife to Mr. Westcott in the eyes of the Shropshire gentry depended on her success as hostess for the evening. Madelene had finally admitted to herself, perhaps her future lay here with Gabriel and George, and it was what she wanted, her own family.

If only she could be more sure of Gabriel. Of his reason for marrying her, what Alec meant to him, George’s history.

Fanny pleasantly surprised Madelene when she informed her mistress of her aptitude as a seamstress. Upon hearing the news, Madelene requested Fanny make her dress for the evening, only after the maid assured her she would have enough time to complete it.

When Madelene wasn’t spending time with George or seeing all arrangements continued on schedule, Fanny fitted her with a new, white, silk gown. Madelene had received several of the latest patterns popular in Paris to study. Fanny, a few weeks earlier, had become Madelene’s lady’s maid and loved handling all the fine dresses Madelene had brought from London, even if they weren’t the latest designs.

As a few days passed into the week, Madelene caught the servants staring at her at various times and pondered the reason. She had also noticed someone in the household lurked—she amended,
lingered
within calling distance. It didn’t take long to realize no attempts had been made on her life, with her husband gone.

Preposterous. Inconceivable. It meant absolutely nothing.

Upon the eve of the anticipated arrival of Mr. Westcott, Madelene heard a noise from her husband’s bedchamber. Could Gabriel have sneaked into the house without apprising anyone?

Her heart beat faster. She had missed him and was willing to admit she missed his presence, his voice, his touch, and his kiss. Hardly daring to breathe, she opened the door, calling out, “Gabriel, are you home sooner—”

Matthew stood by one of the opened white cupboards. “Mad, you startled me. I was borrowing one of Westcott’s cravats for the soiree—”

Madelene bustled into the room. “I hardly think our gathering is the right entertainment for you, in your condition.”

Her brother leaned on his cane before settling into a cushioned chair. He broke into one of his famous Matthew smiles, the one he thought captivated everyone.

“Mad, I feel much better. Indeed, I hope to go home in a few days. I’ll take you with me, if you want to go. I know how you long to return to Bloomsbury and our home.”

Madelene’s jaw dropped. Not now. Bloomsbury was no longer her home. Something was happening here. She soon comprehended he gave her the words she wanted to hear to distract her. Distract her from—

“What are you doing in here? I don’t believe you are looking for a silly cravat. And how could you dare to intrude into my husband’s own bedchamber to possibly steal those jewels?” She crossed her arms and tapped a finger, waiting for his answer.

Matthew rubbed his brow and dropped his head. “Mad.” He looked up at her again, standing near the edge of the bed. “Mad, I need the diamonds. I’ve got to find them.” His eyes pinned on her. “Mad, I promise, if you give the diamonds to me, I’ll leave you both and never worry you again.”

Sighing, Madelene sat on the bed, overwhelmed, and shook her head. Those diamonds again! She was exceedingly tired of hearing about the jewels.

Matthew leaned forward on his cane. “Mad, if I don’t deliver the diamonds to the count, he may, he may, try to hurt me again.”

“The count? This count is the one who drew me to the Pickled Goose looking for you. Do you mean this count hurt you the night Mr. Westcott brought you home and not my husband? You lied? How could you do such a thing, to me?” Madelene sputtered for words to express her outrage. “This is unforgivable. From the beginning, this whole marriage farce was your idea. You put me in this predicament.”

“Yes, yes, I know. But I thought it might be best. If you suspected your husband could be capable of hurting your brother, you would want to return home with me. Wouldn’t it solve everything?”

She closed her eyes, unwilling to look at her deceitful brother. Could she have been wrong all this time, doubting her husband? She should have known her brother capable of anything, only caring for his own affairs.

She bit her lip and sighed. Opening her eyes, she told him, “Matthew, if you stopped looking out for your own interests, you might have asked me about the status of my health and marriage. Much has changed since that night when you wouldn’t take me with you. I have a home here now. This is where I belong.”

“How noble you are, Madelene Colgate. A finer saint I have never met.” His sarcasm was wasted on her.

“If your intention is to stir me to anger, I do not have the inclination. I will tell you that I’m happy, and I wish you could find the same peace, too.”

“It seems my plan has worked out exceedingly well for you. You have benefited more from this marriage than I could have ever foreseen.” He paused and looked her in the eyes. “You say you want me to be happy. Then help me find the diamonds.” His brown eyes looked cold, unrecognizable.

“I’ve already promised you I will talk to Mr. Westcott and inquire about the diamonds. If indeed he has them, I shall try to convince him to give them to you, but I cannot promise anything. If these diamonds are stolen, then they don’t belong to you or the count, but the magistrate needs to be informed. This is probably why, if Gabriel has them, he might be waiting to learn more information about their ownership.”

Matthew managed to get to his feet. “Mad, they do belong to the count. He has convinced me of this. Sister, I know you’ll do this for me. You’ll ensure everything comes out tolerably well. You always do.”

He walked a few feeble steps to the door. “I think I may have overtaxed myself. I think it a good idea if I take dinner in my room.” A grim smile on his face, he wobbled out of the room, leaving Madelene shaking her head as he departed.

How could her father, an honest, respected, and dignified member of society, have raised a son like Matthew? Indeed, she found it difficult at times to believe Matthew was a seed from him, so unlike were they in many ways. When Father had been alive, he knew how to manage her brother and to keep him on the straight path. Without Father, Matthew had become a brother she hardly knew.

She returned to her bedchamber, thoughts of her disappointing brother faded, supplanted by Gabriel. Her heart actually felt lighter. She knew Gabriel could never have hurt her brother, not then and not now. But what other lies had her brother told her? She was almost afraid to discover.