A Lady Betrayed (25 page)

“Lady Weller!” Adrian murmured when they joined hands at the close of the service and he had slipped on her finger a lovely gold ring he had bought during their shopping excursion in Ripon.

Still mulling over “to have and to hold, from this day forward,” Maddie gazed up at him, love filling her like a golden liquid overflowing a too small goblet.

“Yes, my love?” she answered.

“You are that, too,” he agreed, “but now you are indeed my lady.”

“Oh,” she said, flushing a little. “My lord.” So she was—and she wondered how long it would take to get used to that.

Adrian insisted that they wait to see the vicar write their names into the parish book then and there—he didn't seem to trust the vicar's fractured nerves. After they turned down a somewhat unconvincing invitation to stay and have tea and breakfast, they left as quietly as they'd come.

By now the dawn was erupting on the eastern skyline, and the sun peeking over the treetops. It seemed a fitting image, Maddie thought as she began a new part of her life—Lady Weller, indeed. A whole new name, new life, new role—wife and mother—she'd never planned to bear such titles. How on earth would she do it?

Remembering that Adrian loved her buoyed her amazingly. But first of all she had to remain whole and evade the murderous cousin, she thought, sitting far back in the carriage and hoping no bullets came flying.

At home, Bess shooed her out of the kitchen—“On ye wedding morning, no indeed!” while the maid took the leftovers from their dinner last night—somehow no one had eaten very much, it seemed—and turned them into a quite decent breakfast. So even though they had no fancily-clad guests or long speeches, Maddie was just as happy with her wedding as her twin sisters had been with their more fancy event a few months ago.

She sat with her new husband beside her, her father across the table, and a good friend to cheer them. While she would certainly have liked to have her sisters there to join them, she was so happy to be wed at last and to have everyone unharmed that she could complain of nothing.

Now, if they could only find a way to rid themselves of the lunatic cousin and secure Adrian's safety.

They lingered at the table a long time, and when the sun was high in the sky, her father yawned and announced that he was going to retire for his afternoon rest.

When he had departed, Felicity said, “I think I will help Bess straighten up after the meal, and then a nap sounds just the thing. After all the excitement, this morning and yesterday, I'm still fatigued.” And if she didn't meet anyone's eye when she said it, she managed to keep a commendably straight face.

Maddie looked down at her plate and tried hard not to break out into one of her too easily provoked blushes.

Adrian stood when Felicity rose. Maddie stood as well, and offered to help, but Felicity was as firm as Bess had been.

“You'll do no work on your wedding day. Go and discuss philosophy, read love poems to each other, or whatever takes your fancy.”

She turned away quickly to take dishes out to the kitchen, and not until she was out of the room did Adrian laugh under his breath.

“Shall we retreat to the bedchamber, my love, and peruse some of that poetry?”

Maddie laughed, too, twining her fingers through his. “It seems we have no choice.”

He grinned at her. “May all our choices be so grim!”

Hand in hand, they went up the staircase to her bedchamber, and, with obvious satisfaction, Adrian shut the door behind them.

“Did I not say that this was a prime advantage of married life?” he pointed out.

Maddie giggled. She started to unbutton the back of her wedding dress, but had managed only the top buttons. “I need some help, here, my lord,” she suggested, looking over her shoulder and smiling an invitation to her new husband.

He came at once, shedding his jacket on the way. The next button came easily out of its hole at the bidding of his nimble fingers, and he kissed the tender skin thus exposed.

The feel of his lips against her back made her shiver, and the promise of more wonderful sensations to come made Maddie's insides glow with the usual warm and quivery feelings of delight that Adrian always induced. “Don't dillydally!” she commanded. “There are more buttons!”

“Such a harsh taskmaster my new wife turns out to be,” he muttered, as he released one more button, and kissed one bit of skin. Again, she shivered.

“Adrian!”

His fingers moved with lazy grace. One more button—one more kiss. The feelings inside her belly grew, and she bit back a moan of longing.

It was exquisite torture, especially as she knew there stretched a long line of tiny buttons down the back of her gown.

“Adrian, I shall rip this gown off myself if you don't hurry!”

“Ah, the lady grows impatient!” His tone was still teasing.

It occurred to her that two could play at this game. She turned and unwound his neckcloth, kissing his neck, loving the clean smell of male flesh. She pushed back his shirt and kissed his chest, as much of it as she could reach, until he groaned slightly and reached down to pull it over his head and toss it aside. His chest was bare to her touch, and she ran her fingers lightly over his skin, the light sprinkling of dark hairs, the firm muscles hard-ridged just beneath the sun-bronzed skin, delighting in the beating of his heart. She paused a moment over the faint scar that made her lips tighten as she remembered the other threat—how could she forget it even for a moment?

She kissed his neck and his chest and the firm skin above his heart—oh, God, protect his heart, protect all of him, she thought—forgetting all about her gown and buttons, kissed him again and again until he groaned and pushed her gently back.

“Wait,” he said, reaching for the back of her gown. “I need to—”

He never had the chance to finish.

A sharp sound burst the quiet of her room. The glass in her window shattered and exploded inward as dust erupted from the wall just behind Adrian's head.

S
he cried out as Adrian shoved her against the mattress,
pressing his body against hers to hold her down.

“Don't move!” he exclaimed.

“What is it?” she demanded, although she knew the answer even as she said the words, adding, “How can he see us?”

“He must be in the top of one of the trees near the house,” Adrian told her, his voice grim but amazingly calm. “Hold on, we're going to slide off the bed on the side next to the wall.” Hardly had he spoken than they were moving, falling willy-nilly toward the floor.

She could tell that he tried to take the brunt of the impact of the fall, turning them as they fell. But the floor rushed up to meet them, and she still had the breath knocked out of her. It was a moment before she could speak.

“Are you all right?” he spoke into her ear.

Fighting for breath, she nodded.

“We shall have to crawl to the hallway,” Adrian said. “You must not give him a clear target.”

“I understand.” It was difficult in her wedding gown, but she pulled up the skirt into a bundle and tucked the short train over her arm and managed as best she could.

Just before they reached the door, it flew open, and Felicity stood there.

“Get back,” Adrian said sharply. “Do not show yourself to the view of the window.”

Looking alarmed, Felicity did as she was told, just as another bullet came flying. With a high-pitched hum, this one went through the doorway and thudded into the other side of the hall, but again, thankfully, no one was hit.

Maddie crawled around the side of the doorway. Beyond the range of the window, finally, with Felicity's help, she could stand. Her legs cramped, she straightened with a jerk and waited anxiously until her new husband joined her.

“We'd best go reassure your father. I'm sure he's heard the commotion, and he will be most worried,” Felicity said.

Maddie nodded, but she was watching Adrian.

He met her gaze. “I'm going out the front door and I'll circle around,” he told her, his voice calm. “You go to your father. And all of you, stay away from the windows!”

“We will,” she promised, “but, Adrian, be careful!”

They hurried down the staircase and found her father just coming out of his chamber, a frown on his face. “Madeline, what is the ado? I thought I heard shots!”

She explained quickly, and he looked grave.

“Then we must do as Weller advises, and most certainly stay out of sight of the windows.” He looked at Maddie's worried face and reached to pat her arm. “Don't fret, Madeline. Your husband is not a green lad; he will proceed with due caution.”

“I will go down to the kitchen and see if we can brew some strong tea,” Felicity suggested. Madeline followed her to help.

The kitchen's windows were mostly high set, so by moving carefully, they were able to make tea and fetch bread and butter and slices of cake, and they gathered in the central hallway as the most prudent location. Everyone supped in near silence. Maddie, at least, had her mind solely on Adrian's safety, hoping that she did not become a widow before she had even had time to become accustomed to being a wife.

She had no appetite at all, but her father urged her to eat something, so she bit off a small portion of bread. Although Bess was an excellent baker, it seemed as tasteless and heavy as stone in her mouth. Just as she was struggling to swallow the morsel, she heard a shot ring out from behind the house, then another, and she choked.

Felicity jumped up and hit her sharply on the back.

Coughing, Maddie finally got the bread down, drank some tea, and was able to speak. “Oh, sweet heaven, please let Adrian be all right!”

Her father's lips had tightened.

She looked at him in entreaty. “Should we not go to see if he is wounded?”

“And walk straight into a bullet yourself?” her father demanded. “You'll do no such thing! I will go out presently if he does not return in a timely fashion.”

What did he consider timely, Maddie wondered, wanting to rebel. She considered telling him she was a married woman now and no longer under his control, but thought that probably not the most prudent course. She could, of course, simply walk out the door—it wasn't as if her father could physically stop her—but that would wound him terribly. And there was the chance that he was quite correct. She sighed and had to content herself with pacing up and down the hall. But if Adrian did not return soon, she had to do something!

For the first time, she wished she had been more like her sister Juliana, who when she was growing up had tried hard to be the son her father had not had, so that she could learn masculine skills and help run the farm. Juliana had climbed trees and herded sheep, but even Jules had never learned to shoot, and that was the skill that Maddie wished for just now.

She would have to do the best she could, but her father would never allow her to take one of his grandfather's dueling pistols out—she didn't even know how to load the weapon, for pity's sake. Although she could slip out one of Bess's large carving knives, that would be of little use against a gun.

So, plotting outlandish and probably illogical schemes to do away with Adrian's enemy, Maddie whiled away minutes that crept by like years. Every time she passed the sitting room doorway, she paused to look through at the clock over the fireplace. Its hands moved with amazing slowness. She began to think it must be broken. How could time have slowed to such a degree?

But even when she felt that time flowed as slowly as treacle from a pitcher on a cold day, still her father would not allow anyone out of the house.

“Weller knows what he is doing,” he told her, yet again. “I know it is hard to wait, my child, but it is what he would want.”

“Yes, indeed,” a new voice said.

She jerked so hard that later she would find her neck sore for days. “Adrian!” Running the length of the hallway, she cast herself into his arms, feeling the cold air upon his person, and clinging to him, not caring that everyone was watching.

“Are you all right?” She could not see any obvious wound, no sign of bloodshed, but still she wanted to hear it from his lips.

“I am quite well, thank you,” he said, managing a smile for her benefit. He looked cold and tired, despite his claim.

At once, she felt selfish, and she begged him to come inside and sit. “I shall warm up some fresh tea for you,” she said, then discovered that Bess, bless her, had already gone to put the kettle back on. “Tell us, if you will, what has happened. What about your murderous cousin?”

“He has withdrawn for the moment. We exchanged shots. I think I have managed to wound him, probably not seriously. I found a trace of blood, but only a few drops,” he told them.

“A shame!” Maddie exclaimed, then blushed as her father glanced at her in surprise. She had never been so bloodthirsty before, but she'd never had someone she loved threatened with violence. She found it made a great difference in her thinking.

“Do you think he has gone away for good?” she asked her husband. What a lovely word that was, she thought, brushing a leaf off his sleeve just for the excuse to touch him.

“I fear not,” Adrian replied. “I'm sure he will return, after he has bandaged his wound and perhaps taken a brief respite to recover. Which means that I am the one who will have to put a distance between us. I must not allow anyone here to be threatened by my presence.”

“I don't care for that!” Maddie exclaimed, unable to be silent while Adrian exiled himself from her out of an excess of caution.

He turned toward her, and with his back to the others glanced at her belly. “You know that I must,” he told her gently, his look a silent rebuke, though he doubtless did not mean it so. It was a reminder that she was now responsible for two lives, not just her own. How could she risk their child's life so recklessly? Throwing away her own without thought, in order to stay close to the man she loved, was one thing. Putting their first baby in harm's way was quite another.

“It's not fair,” she whispered, trying to blink away the sudden moisture that blurred her image of his face.

“I know,” he said, putting one hand up to cradle her cheek, “but I have no choice, nor do you.”

For a moment they stood thus and no one spoke, then he stepped back. “I must go up and pack,” he said. “I will leave when it is full dark. There is a quarter moon tonight; it will be enough to get a safe distance from the village.”

“Where will you go?” she asked, her voice sounding strange past the lump in her throat.

“I don't know,” he answered. “As far and as fast as I can. The most important thing is to lead him away from here and those I hold dear.”

Her father wheeled his chair closer. “You know I wish you Godspeed, and even more I wish this was not necessary, Weller,” he said, putting out his hand. “If I can do anything to help, just send word.”

“Thank you, sir.” They shook hands.

“Thank you for all your help, my lord,” Felicity told him. “I will pray for your safety.”

He bowed to them and then headed upstairs. Maddie lingered only to take the tea when Bess brought it, and to instruct their maidservant to make up a packet of food for Adrian to take with him. Then she followed him up to the bedchamber.

Her heart aching, she did what she could to help, folding his garments and smoothing them with hands that sometimes trembled.

He told her again about his estate, his man of business, his solicitor, and gave her papers with all the names and directions written carefully down. The ache in her throat made it impossible to answer, but she nodded and smiled at him, trying not to allow the tears to slip out.

He touched her stomach gently, cupping his hand over it and leaning down to kiss it. “Tell your father when you judge the time is right. Put something in the Yorkshire papers when the babe is born, with what you have decided to name it, so I can hear,” he said.

He did not plan to return even for the birth of his first child? His only child if he never returned, she thought with a strange formless panic.

Stammering and awkward, she tried to ask, “B-but, Adrian, w-will you not be coming back by then?”

He closed his saddlebags and set them on the rug, then took both her hands in his larger ones. She could feel the callouses from long hours of riding, the strength in his hands, reassuring when she thought of him riding out to face a killer.

“I will come back if I am able, Madeleine. When he threatened you in the church, I knew—nightmares of blood, or not—that I would kill him in a fair fight as soon as I was able. I must see his face; I cannot shoot him in the back.”

She nodded.

“But before I risk a confrontation, I must lead him away from here. If by bad luck, he should best me—he doesn't always fight fair…”

That was an understatement, she thought.

“I cannot have my cousin coming back here, in his madness, to harm you. I want you to draw upon the resources of my estate and set up more servants and more protection for you and your father, do you understand?”

She nodded again.

“I will draw him away, then I will feel more assured about how we may proceed.”

His tone was reserved, and she was not sure if he believed his own statement, if he really expected to see her again, alive, or not. And then there were the bullet fragments, waiting killers in his own body!

While she tried to think how to argue—they had not time to waste—he pulled her quickly into an embrace, one arm about her shoulders while he kissed her. She put her hands about his neck and kissed him with all her might. For long seconds, the kiss took all her attention, and while he held her close, Maddie could forget everything else. Kissing Adrian was the world.

He pulled away, leaning back only to brush his lips against the top of her head.

“My darling, you are my deepest center,” he whispered, “where the universe begins, and love is eternal.”

And then he was gone.

Would she ever see him alive again?

Too weak with fear even to take two steps to the bed, she sank to the floor, put her face into her hands, and wept.

For several days Maddie went about in a fog, too dazed
with grief and fear for her husband to worry about her own safety. The would-be assassin had undoubtably followed Adrian's trail; she was sure Adrian had made it obvious that he was leaving the village. Only when he was past Ripon would he begin to hide his footsteps, he had told her. If only he had gotten that far without incident, she told herself, tossing in her lonely bed at night as she worried and fretted.

During the day she wrote letters to his solicitor and man of business, as Adrian had instructed her to do, enclosing his own letters of instruction, and waited for the funds with which they would add more men to protect themselves. She did not intend to move to Adrian's estate. To go there without him would feel like encroachment, and she had not married him for his land or wealth—she had not even considered that he might have money or titles. The fact that she was now Lady Weller still seemed very strange. The only time she found it quite satisfying was when Mrs. Masham came to call.