As the ladies arose after a dessert of apricot cake, Nate stood up, too. He was relieved to have this lengthy dinner over at last. It had been a trial to make stilted conversation, to abide by civilized manners when several times he’d wanted to plant his fist in the Earl of Gilmore’s face.
He would not call the man “Father” or “Papa.” Not ever again. Not after the punishing words Gilmore had flung at him ten years ago. And not after the man had all but admitted he’d have preferred Nate to be declared dead in order to bar him from inheriting.
But at least Madelyn’s performance had made the evening worthwhile. She had a remarkable knack for irritating the earl. Nathan didn’t know how much of it was pretense, and how much was her true character, though he suspected she was far more intelligent than his family had been led to believe. He was impatient to discover the real Madelyn—in particular, the nubile body beneath that indecent gown.
He went to Madelyn’s side and set her soft hand on his arm. She glanced up at him, her eyes a deep, mysterious blue. He caught an alluring whiff of her scent, and thoughts of the night ahead stirred a keen impatience in him. She belonged to him now; he could enjoy her as he willed. No doubt a woman of her experience knew many ways to please a man. At the first opportunity, he would concoct an excuse for them to retire early …
“The ladies will take tea in the drawing room,” Gilmore announced. “Emily, if you’ll be so good as to escort your grandmother.” As the girl hastened to the dowager’s side, he added sharply, “Nathan, have you forgotten the custom in this household? The gentlemen remain in the dining chamber.”
“I prefer to accompany my bride.”
“Sit down. It won’t harm you to drink a brandy in my company.”
As the earl resumed his seat, Madelyn gave Nate a sassy smile and tugged her arm free. She whirled around, and with an impudent twitch of her cherry-red skirts, she headed after the other women. Her hips swayed as she vanished out the door.
He wasn’t sure if it she was just playing a role, or if the minx was deliberately teasing him. Whatever the case, he relished her playfulness. But if she intended to try to wrap him around her little finger, it wouldn’t work. He’d had plenty of practice in taming strong-minded women. Madelyn would be no different.
One of the footmen placed a decanter and two crystal glasses in front of Gilmore. The other retainer brought forth a humidor and offered it to the earl, who opened the box and selected a cigar. Then Gilmore waved both servants out of the dining chamber.
Still standing, Nate found himself alone with the one man he loathed more than any other in the world. The urge to leave the room burned in him. He didn’t owe this man any courtesy.
But if he walked out, Gilmore would brand him a coward.
Nate yanked out his chair and sat down. An expanse of white linen separated them. Gilmore uncorked the decanter and poured a generous splash into each tumbler.
He nudged one glass in Nate’s direction. “Go on, take it. It seems we shall have to learn to tolerate one another’s company.”
His words were an echo of what Lady Milford had said only a few days ago. Yet everything in Nate rejected the notion of a ceasefire. He didn’t want to reestablish a relationship with this man; he preferred to be a perpetual thorn in Gilmore’s side.
Nevertheless, he seized the glass and took a quick swallow, letting the brandy burn down his throat. “What could we possibly have to discuss? Everything I had to say to you was uttered ten years ago. I presume you recall that scene since you instigated it.”
One corner of Gilmore’s mouth curled in a familiar haughty look that harkened back to Nate’s youth. The earl picked up a small knife and trimmed one end of his cigar, frowning as if reflecting upon that ugly episode from the past. Their heated clash had resulted in Nate storming out of Gilmore House and boarding a ship to India. He had wandered for a time throughout Asia before using his talent for bartering to develop a thriving business.
But Gilmore didn’t know that part of the story. Nor would he care.
The earl set the knife aside, pulled a candle closer, and lit the cigar at the flame, puffing out a cloud of smoke. “That long mane of yours needs barbering,” he said abruptly. “I’ll send my valet to you tomorrow morning.”
Nate sat up straight. He shouldn’t be surprised that Gilmore had ignored the past and launched a personal attack. “Be thankful I don’t braid it anymore like the merchants in Shanghai. By emulating their style, I earned their trust and made a fortune in trade with them.”
“You’re in England now and you’ll conform to the standards of a gentleman. You cannot be seen in public looking like a heathen.”
“I’ll do whatever I damned well please.”
The earl irritably tapped ash from his cigar into a saucer. “Will you harm your sister’s reputation, then? Emily will be making her debut in a fortnight. She will have difficulty enough attracting a husband without you complicating the matter.”
With that, he’d struck a direct blow. Not for the world did Nate wish to ruin Emily’s chance to make a good marriage. Yet he wouldn’t be bullied. “If the length of my hair frightens off one of Emily’s suitors, then the fellow is too gutless to be worthy of her.”
“And what of your unsuitable bride? The scandal of your marriage is certain to taint Emily. What the devil were you thinking to wed such a vulgar female?” His eyebrows clashing in a frown, Gilmore puffed on the cigar. “Never mind, your purpose is clear. You wish to strike a blow at me. You seek to bring shame down upon this household and damn the consequences.”
Now here was a topic that Nate relished. He settled back in his chair and savored his brandy, eyeing the earl over the rim of the glass. “Madelyn is a trifle unconventional, I’ll grant you. But give her a chance. She’ll charm everyone as she’s charmed me.”
“Charm? I’m sure that strumpet has charmed quite a few men in her time. Especially the reprobates who tried to buy her services at auction!”
“Mind your tongue,” Nate snapped, wondering at his flare of anger when he ought to be rejoicing in Gilmore’s disgust. “You’re speaking of my wife—the next Lady Gilmore, I might add.”
Gilmore’s nostrils flared as he sucked in several breaths. He appeared to be striving to contain his explosive fury. Excellent. The man deserved to suffer for the way he’d treated Nate all those years ago. The earl had brought this disaster upon himself.
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.