To Win His Wayward Wife (15 page)

 “Too many waffles?” she teased, patting his rock hard stomach.

He chuckled and gave her an affectionate squeeze. “No. Pugilism actually. It’s a great way to burn pent up energy.”

She moved her head to rest it on his chest. “You haven’t a lot of chest hair,” she said, running her fingers over the small mat that ran down the middle of his chest.

“Do you have a thing for chest hair,” he teased, rubbing his knuckles over cheek.

She shrugged sleepily. “Not really. Actually, I’m glad you don’t. I don’t think I’d like it if you had a bearskin rug on your chest like Andrew.”

He stiffened.

“Oh, relax,” she said, skimming her fingers over his abs, making them tremor in response. “I saw him in his dressing robe once, remember?”

 “Right,” he clipped. “But I better be the only man from now on you see in his dressing robe. Clear?”

“Don’t worry, you will be,” she said lightly. “You’re the only one I’ve ever actually wanted to see in his dressing robe.” She pressed a soft kiss right above his heart and laid her head back on his chest, falling asleep to the steady beating of his heart.

***

Benjamin watched his wife sleep for more than an hour before rolling her to the side and climbing out of bed to go put out the candles. He knew they’d burn out eventually, but after the fire that had happened at his house in Yorkshire several years ago, he’d made it a habit to make sure every candle was snuffed before falling asleep. He’d even gone so far as not to allow a fire to burn in his house without a screen.

Climbing out of bed, he walked to common room and made sure nothing was still burning in there. Then he went back into the bedroom and walked to the vanity where a five candle candelabra was lit. Before blowing out the candle sticks, his eyes looked down at the objects on the table. Madison had placed her brush and hand mirror next to his comb and shaving razor and strop. He liked the way their things looked together on a shared vanity. In a few days, hopefully no more, he’d take her to Glenbrook, the seat of his dukedom, and get to see this tableau every day. He had no intention of having separate rooms, especially not now that they’d become so close.

His fingers touched the pointy bristles of her brush and he wondered if she’d let him brush her hair for her in the morning. Reflecting back on the evening, perhaps he should have taken it slower by brushing her hair and slowly easing her into bed. But it really didn’t matter; she didn’t seem to mind his rush.

She let out a little moan in her sleep and he turned his face to look at her. She was beautiful, and best yet, she was all his. What was he still doing staring at the vanity table when she was on his bed waiting to be held? Picking up the candelabra so he could blow out the candles, he accidentally knocked her reticule on the floor, spilling the contents. He grunted and leaned to pick up her things. He chuckled as he gathered the little pile of odds and ends and put them back inside. She was just like him. She carried quite an array of different things she just
might
need during the day. A small pair of scissors, sewing needles and three different miniature spools of thread, mints, loose coins, a couple keys, and several hair pins seemed the most useful things. There were many other things, including bejeweled hair combs and a quill (but no inkpot in sight), that seemed a little less necessary. He smiled at her oddity, it was just like his. It was just one more thing they had in common.

A piece of vellum caught his eye and he reached out to grab it to stuff it in the bag. Picking the paper up the corner, the note unfolded and the handwriting caught his attention. Why does she carry a note from Robbie in her reticule, he wondered as his jaw clenched. Knowing it was her own private business, he thought about doing the right thing and shoving it in there without reading it. But he’d never been one to be confused for a gentleman and felt only a sliver of guilt as he read the missive.

His sliver of guilt soon vanished and then panic that had nothing to do with him being termed a murderer, formed in his chest.

Chapter 16

Madison awoke with the strangest ache in her neck, almost like a crick. How on earth did she get a crick in her neck, she wondered as she fluttered her lashes open. The first thing her eyes got sight of was Benjamin’s white shirt. How odd. Didn’t he take that off before we went to sleep? Yes, he did, she remembered they'd talked of chest hair and she had run her fingers over his bare, well-formed muscles, delighting in how his body reacted to her touches. So now why was he wearing a shirt and why did it feel like they were moving? Moving? Yes, moving. She had the oddest feeling they were in a carriage.

She jerked her head up and blinked owlishly a few times. They
were
in a carriage. “Why are we in a carriage?” she asked bluntly.

“We’re going somewhere. Don’t worry, we’re almost there,” he said, pulling her back to rest on his chest.

She groaned. “I hope you didn’t kidnap me to go eat waffles again,” she mumbled. She liked them well enough, but for goodness’ sake, enough was enough.

“No,” he said, chuckling. “We’re not going to eat waffles. But if you want some later that can be arranged.”

“No, thank you,” she said, sitting up and rubbing her neck.

His hand came to her neck and he gently massaged the sore muscles and tendons. “Better?” he murmured.

“Yes, thank you.” She felt the blanket he’d draped over her slip and she almost shrieked when she realized she was still in her chemise.

“Relax,” he said with a smile. “Where we’re going your chemise will be acceptable attire.”

She cast an uneasy eye at him. “And where is that?”

“Home.”

“Home? Whose home?”

“Our home,” he said as if that explained everything.

“Excuse me,” she exclaimed in shock. “I don’t remember agreeing to return to your home yet.”

He shrugged. “You didn’t have to.”

Enraged, she scooted away from him and pulled the blanket up to her chin. “What are you about?”

“I could ask you the same,” he countered, his voice held a sharp edge.

“What does that mean?” she demanded hotly, her pulse speeding to new heights. He’d abducted her. He’d seduced her and abducted her. How stupid could she possibly be to fall so easily into the trap he’d set? She’d known he was a snake. Look at the trap he’d laid for Brooke.

He reached into his pocket and withdrew a piece of paper. Without a word, he tossed it in her direction.

She unfolded the paper and stared at him in disbelief. “I’m not even going to ask how you got this. Obviously, you’re not above snooping if you’re not above kidnapping,” she said fiercely. “But I demand to know how you take this as my acceptance to return to your house?”

“Don’t worry, we’ll be there soon,” he said, ignoring her demands.

“Soon? How soon? It’s barely dawn,” she pointed out. London was close, but not that close.

He shrugged, then dug into his pocket and retrieved his watch. Checking the time, he said, “Less than two hours.”

“Less than two hours? Just how long have we been traveling?”

He shrugged again. “Since about midnight.”

“Midnight?” she shrieked. They should have arrived in London by now, or at least been closer than two hours away, if they’d been traveling since midnight. Unless he wasn’t taking her to London. Panic filled her chest. “Where are we going?”

 “To the coast,” he said evenly. “But that’s all I’m saying.”

“Stop the carriage this instant, Your Grace,” she yelled. He had no business hauling her off to the coast. Not that this wasn’t partially her fault. He’d charmed her, and stupidly, she’d trusted him.

“Don’t,” he said fiercely, pinning her with his razor-sharp eyes.

“Don’t what?” she asked. “Don’t yell? Don’t argue? Don’t demand you return me? Don’t what?”

“Don’t ‘Your Grace’ me,” he said sharply. “You’ve used my given name often enough, I should think you know it well enough. You even called me Ben last night,” he said with a wicked grin.

“That won’t be happening again, Your Grace,” she said sharply as shame washed over her.  He was right; she’d been so caught up in the moment she’d called him Ben. And more than once if memory served her correctly.

He frowned. “Why not? I’m the same man now that I was then.”

“No you’re not. You were nice and sweet then; and now you’re abducting me!”

He shrugged. “Some people fall in love with their abductors,” he said huskily, waggling his eyebrows.

“Not this unsuspecting abductee,” she retorted. “I still don’t even know where we’re going.”

He
tsk, tsked
and drawled, “That’s the normal way of things, I’m afraid. The abductor wouldn’t be very intelligent to tell his captive where he’s taking her. And, unlike Robbie, my brain serves more purpose than just ensuring my skull doesn’t cave in.”

“Pffft. That’s doubtful. I always did seem to attract simpletons,” she said dismissively. “All right. If you won’t tell me where you’re taking me. Then tell me
why
you’re taking me.”

“I already did,” he said, pointing to the letter she’d carelessly balled up and tossed on the floor.

“So what?” she burst out. “It’s not like I believed his words and was keeping you at Rockhurst while we waited for the constable. Although,” she looked at him more sharply now, “now that you’ve gone so far as to abduct me in the middle of the night, I might put more credit in his words.”

“Don’t,” he said simply. “Well, do.”

“What?” she asked, exacerbated.  Was he saying he did or didn’t commit murder? She shivered. What fantastic luck she had. She was now trapped in a carriage barreling at a hell-for-hide speed toward the coast with a man who may have just suggested a ridiculous note about him killing a harmless old woman in his employ was true.

He shrugged. “About six, almost seven, years ago there was a little dustup in Yorkshire that ended in the death of a man dressed as a woman that was in my employ.”

“And you were involved,” she shrieked, her eyes almost bulging out of her head.

“Yes,” he said evenly. “After school and Tour I went to Yorkshire to live in between Seasons. One Season I was in London and Lady Algen begged me to take on one of her maids that she could no longer employ. I didn’t think much of it and hired the woman on. A few months later, I’d spent all night pouring over estate accounts in my study and fell asleep on the settee that was on the far side of the room. An hour or two later, I heard a noise and watched in stunned silence as this ‘maid’ sat and tried to pick the lock on my safe.

“After ten minutes of no success, I walked over to her to ask if I could be of some assistance. That’s when I discovered it was a man. His reaction to seeing me was not at all how a lady would react. Don’t give me that dubious look. He looked rather convincing in that dress. He was short and clean shaven. Had the wrinkly face of an old woman. Even had curves, which I later discovered were rolled up stockings. Anyhow, we fought and fortunately I was able to overpower him. I found out Lady Algen and my mother, not Lizzie, my real mother, had been corresponding through letters for some time and had concocted this scheme in order to steal whatever jewels they thought I had.” He scoffed. “If she would have just asked me, I would have given them to her.”

“So you killed the man?” she asked curiously. It was all an interesting tale for sure, but that still didn’t clear him of a crime.

“No. Not really,” he said quietly, a dark shadow crossing his face. “After I found out what I needed to know, I let him go and told him I wouldn’t call the constable if he would just disappear. At three and twenty I didn’t want to deal with the legalities; especially if they would bring about a scandal, which they would. He went to walk out the door, grabbed a candle out of the double candle sconce next to the door and flung it at me. I was able to dodge it, but it lit the carpet on fire. I was trying to stomp out the flame when I heard the man scream. I looked up and saw he’d been standing so near the candle that was still in the sconce that his hair caught fire.” He stopped, closed his eyes and shook his head as if he were shaking off the mental image that filled his mind. When he spoke again his voice was dark and bleak. “There wasn’t anything I could do to save him.”

“Is that why they call you the Dangerous Duke?” she asked, feeling her chest constrict. He’d witnessed a horrific accident and had to live with the stigma of it for years.

“Probably. That, or Eton,” he said with a cheeky smile. “That was the only scrape I ever got in that the old duke ever helped me with. He was able to get Lady Algen to confess to knowing the maid was a man with a ‘possible’ criminal history. In exchange for her testimony, she was free of legal trouble and I was cleared of murder, which I hadn’t even committed. But since there was no way to prove my innocence with no witnesses and a charred body in my study, it was the best I could hope for.”

“That’s why you threatened Lady Algen when we got engaged?”

“Yes. I wanted to make sure she knew I knew her motives for getting me to hire him. Obviously she knew I found out the maid was a man, but she didn’t know I knew what he was after and that she’d put him up to it. But she does now,” he added with a tight smile.

“Why did you tell me all that?” she asked quietly.

He locked eyes with her. “Because I trust you and I want you to trust me.”

She shook her head. “It’s hard to trust a man who’s dragging me away in the dead of night to who knows where without my permission,” she said tartly.

His gaze sharpened and he shook his head then looked down to the note.

“Don’t,” she said sharply, crossing her arms across her chest. “Don’t just look at it. That doesn’t tell me why you took it upon yourself to take me away in this fashion.”

“Doesn’t it?” he countered, crossing his arms to match her defiance.

“No,” she exclaimed in annoyance. “It doesn’t. If you didn’t murder that man then why are you so concerned about the note?”

“Because he knows where you are,” he said simply.

“What’s the problem with that? Are you afraid I’m going to sneak out and ride off into the sunset with him?” she asked sarcastically. “I assure you, I’ve no plan to do any such thing. Just return me.”

“No,” he clipped. “It doesn’t matter anyway. I told Andrew before we even went to Rockhurst that if anyone found out you were there, I’d be taking you home immediately.”

“Oh,” she said, drawing out her word as she thought about his words. “I get it now. You’re male pride was pricked.”

“No,” he snapped. “My male pride was not pricked.”

She snorted. “It seems like it to me. You can’t stand the idea that someone might think you, the Great Gateway, who entered into the Golden Gateway Marriage, has problems keeping his wife under his roof.”

“That’s not it at all,” he countered, leaning forward. “Well, maybe a little,” he admitted sheepishly. “When I first said that to Andrew that was my reasoning. But it’s not the reason I took you.”

“Then why did you?” she countered defensively. What thought process could have taken place in his head that made him think it was perfectly acceptable to carry her off in this way?

“I’ve already told you. He knows where you are. He may be a clodpole, but sometimes even the dumbest people can cause you harm. In fact, sometimes it’s the dumbest people that cause the most harm. Typically more for themselves than others, but you never know, he might figure out to point the gun away from himself before he pulls the trigger. And, on the off chance he already knows that, I’m taking you away to protect you better,” he explained, confusing her even more. Did he honestly think Robbie posed any harm?

She started laughing uncontrollably. He did! His facial expression said he actually thought Robbie posed a threat to her! Robbie was only interested in one thing. And that one thing did not require a lot of brain activity. He couldn’t possibly formulate a plan to harm anyone. “You’re cracked,” she said when her peals of laughter settled to giggles.

“No, I’m not,” he said sternly. “Men are determined creatures. And the more they want something, the more determined they become.”

“You should know,” she retorted, still shaking with giggles. “You abducted me because you wanted me all to yourself and used the excuse of a pea brain knowing my whereabouts as a reason to justify it.”

He let out a pent up breath. “Yes, I admit, I want you all to myself. But I’m not just making up reasons.”

“Yes, you are,” she returned. “Now, take me back.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not. We’re not discussing this anymore,” he said in steely tones.

She pulled her blanket tighter around her. It was the only barrier she really had against him. “I demand to know your reasons, Your Grace.”

“Stop calling me that,” he said through clenched teeth. “I don’t like it and you know it.”

“Well, I don’t like being taken from my bed while I’m sleeping,” she countered. “How did you manage it anyway? Did you use chloroform? Did you drug me and take advantage of me?” she accused.

“No,” he bellowed. “I’ve never drugged or taken advantage of anyone before and I won’t be starting with my wife. I may have a reputation for being the Dangerous Duke, but even I wouldn’t stoop so low.”

“I don’t believe you,” she said, raising her chin a notch. He had to have done
something
to get her into his carriage and travel more than six hours without her noticing.

“Believe what you want,” he said flippantly. “However, despite your tendencies to rise early, you sleep like the dead.”

She pursed her lips. Brooke always said the same thing about her. That’s how she used to sneak in her room and hide her favorite dolls when they were girls. “Be that as it may,” she said archly, “I did not give you permission to remove me from my bed. Now return me.”

“It was my bed,” he told her smugly. “And I plan to return you to that locale as soon as possible. Just in a different room.” He sent her a wolfish grin that made her go pink.

“Absolutely not,” she snapped, shaking her head. “There is no way I’ll share your bed after this.”

He shrugged. “Yes, you will.”

“Only if you use force.”

“I won’t have to,” he said with a shrug. “You’ll come to me.”