Heiress Without a Cause (30 page)

“Is that why you’re collecting the twins?” he asked, gesturing at their luggage. “They are safer with your reputation than mine?”

Ellie laughed. “You will have to do far worse than murder to saddle me with their guardianship.” The twins both grinned; their relationship with Ellie had improved over the last few weeks as well, and they took no offense at Ellie’s jest.

“Ellie said you will disappear again if the scandal grows,” Kate said, sounding determined. “Maria and I have already packed what we care to bring in case you try to sneak away without us. We do not intend to let you go into exile alone.”

He could tell them apart now — Kate had a slight quirk to her mouth when she smiled, and Maria had a small scar on her chin where she had accidentally banged it against her harp. Knowing who spoke did not comfort him, but knowing who they were made the words more personal. “So Ellie believes I shall run away?”

“Sneaking down those infernal steps was not an attempt to leave the house without alerting anyone?” Ellie asked.

“It is my house now. Surely I can leave however I wish.”

“You could also have the steps fixed, but it doesn’t signify. What matters is whether you are indeed running off to Scotland without so much as a farewell.”

Ellie was no longer in good humor. Now that he saw the tension in her shoulders, the stiff way she crossed her arms as though trying to keep herself from falling apart, he realized that she expected him to abandon them again. “I am not leaving. Even at my most desperate, I wouldn’t run off in a morning coat without a change of clothes,” he pointed out. “And if I leave, I will invite you to come along, just as I did last time.”

Her eyes turned cold. “There is no need to say your farewells in person. I’m sure a note shall suffice if you can spare a moment to write one.”

“What else would you have me do?” he asked, impatient despite her pain. “I cannot disprove a rumor without any evidence for or against it.”

“Will you at least take us to Scotland with you?” Maria pleaded. “London will not be the same with only Sophronia to chaperone us.”

He looked at the twins. They were eager for an adventure — more excited than he had ever seen them while discussing their debuts. But they were also young, and beautiful, and long overdue for the social whirl. With his fortune, he could give them dowries large enough to buy out at least some suitors’ concerns about his family’s sanity.

“You would be bored to bits in Scotland,” he said. “The nearest neighbor is miles away. There is barely any light in the winter, and far too much in the summer, particularly when you have nothing to do to occupy the days. And the clan tolerates me for my mother’s sake and because my grandfather had no sons, but as a rule they do not like the English. You’d be begging to come back to London before the horses even cooled.”

Kate and Maria exchanged one of their glances that encompassed an entire silent conversation. “Sounds rather like how we’ve lived until now,” Kate said. “We would have more fun if you and Lady Madeleine were in residence.”

She was so direct about the dim, narrow little lives they had lived that Ferguson’s heart ached for them — they had no real idea what they had missed. “It’s out of the question, my dears — you have so much more to live for here if you give it a chance.”

“And you do not?” Ellie interjected, a hard edge to her voice.

“I had my chance, Ellie. If London has no use for me, I’ve no use for it.”

He brushed past her for the door, needing to leave, to see Madeleine and believe they could muddle through this. A footman came out of his little alcove by the entrance to open the door, but Ellie placed her palm flat against the wood. Her glare sent the footman scurrying back like one who believed the rumors of madness.

“They would have a use for you if they knew you weren’t a murderer,” Ellie said urgently, refusing to back down even though he tried to give her his most quelling look. “If Marguerite would only return...”

She trailed off, mindful of the servants, and gave a sidelong glance at the twins. They were barely breathing, as though hoping to be taken into their older siblings’ confidences but expecting to be sent off at any moment.

Then Ellie whispered, “I have an idea, if you would consider it?”

She held her breath too, but he saw no hope in her eyes — she steeled herself against the likelihood that he would choose to carry on without them.

He stared at the door above her head and remembered walking out of it in disgrace ten years earlier. It hadn’t felt like disgrace, of course — it had felt like freedom. He actually whistled as he walked toward the carriage waiting to carry him to Scotland — a merry drinking tune that would have given his father fits if the old man had bothered to see him off.

But freedom wasn’t all he imagined it to be. And if the twins would be out of place in Scotland, how would Madeleine — the real Madeleine, the lively, laughing temptress beneath her prim society façade — manage to survive the boredom?

He sighed. Ellie heard something in that sound that made her slump against the door in relief. “Very well. Into the library, all of you. I would rather not spend the whole morning here, if it pleases you.”

It did please them — particularly the twins, who looked like they had been told they might accompany him to the moon. As he followed them to the library, he looked at his watch and sighed again. He needed to see Madeleine.

He didn’t want to run. But could he let Madeleine risk herself for him when all he had to offer in return was a life she didn’t seem to want?

“I expected Ferguson to arrive by now,” Madeleine said, striding back and forth in front of Alex’s desk like a councilor urging a lord to war.

“He will come,” Alex said. “But if you do not stop pacing, I will think you have turned into Amelia.”

She eyed her usual chair with distaste and kept walking. What if Ferguson didn’t come? She knew he still loved her, and she didn’t doubt his heart. But she did doubt his autocratic tendencies and the fate they might lead him to. If he still thought her safety overwhelmed all other priorities, he could break the engagement and go to Scotland alone.

And she would be “safe” — if it was possible to be safe without a heart.

“You don’t have to marry the bounder if you’ve changed your mind,” Alex said in the same mild tone as his observation about her pacing. “I doubt the ton will consider you a jilt. You could hardly be expected to marry a presumed murderer, after all.”

That stopped her pacing. She turned on him with a frown, one hand on her hip as the other grasped the back of a chair for support. “You know he’s not a murderer. If anything, it is my fault he is in this mess. I cannot abandon him so easily.”

Alex drummed his fingers on his desk, his brow furrowed as though confronted with an artifact of dubious provenance. “I don’t deny that, Maddie. But if all else fails, you can always come back here.”

“I thought I was destined for exile in Bermuda?”

“As long as you don’t get caught as Marguerite, you can stay here forever. But even if it comes to that, we could smuggle you back in a few years if you live quietly enough.”

“It does not matter,” she said, the fire of battle escaping her. She sank into her chair, ready now for whatever bad news might come next. She just hoped it would come quickly — with every moment Ferguson delayed, she grew more uncertain, more afraid that her ultimatum the previous night had driven him away.

By the time Chilton opened the door half an hour later, Madeleine was nearly ready to crawl to Scotland herself if it meant keeping him. It was so unlike her, the mad desire to possess someone at all costs, forgoing pride, intelligence, even self-preservation in order to win them.

If that madness was what drove Ferguson’s need to protect her, she finally understood why he would choose to run.

“His grace the duke of Rothwell. Lady Catherine and Lady Maria,” Chilton announced, ushering them in and closing the door as he left.

Alex rose when the ladies were announced, and Madeleine stood to exchange kisses with the twins. Ferguson hung back, but when she saw the fierce look in his haggard face, her heart leapt. He had slept just as badly as she had — but he also looked ready to fight.

Kate curtsied to Alex, then turned back to Madeleine. “Ferguson says we must wait elsewhere while you conduct your business. But Maria and I wanted to say we are
delighted
to have someone with your talents in our family.”

Ferguson shrugged when Madeleine turned her incredulous gaze on him. “The twins were present when Ellie offered advice on our problem. It did seem expeditious to prove to them that I am not a murderer.”

“Pshaw,” Kate declared. “You’ve never had that look about you that Richard used to have. But your secret is safe. We’ve no one to tell, after all.”

Their brother sighed. “All right, girls — perhaps Lord Salford would be so good as to show you to a salon while Lady Madeleine and I converse?”

Alex joined them by the door, but he raised an eyebrow at Rothwell’s suggestion. “Leave you alone with my cousin while you send me off unchaperoned with your sisters? Rather bad form, Rothwell, and you can’t force me to marry both of them.”

Kate giggled and Maria blushed. Madeleine had never thought of Alex as anything more than a cousin, but he was young, handsome and titled — an easy infatuation for two girls who had been raised like nuns. “No teasing my charges,” Madeleine said sternly.

Alex bowed to them, and their blue eyes lit up with identical pleasure. “My apologies, ladies. I shall summon Amelia to entertain you. I must have a word with your brother as well.”

The twins looked disappointed, but their smiles quickly returned. While Alex went to find Amelia, Kate and Maria told Madeleine about all the items they still wished to purchase before their debuts. They had not left off their mourning colors yet — most of their new dresses weren’t ready, and as Maria said, they didn’t want to jinx themselves by ending their mourning before their first ball — but they were excited. Madeleine was exhausted just thinking of all the shopping to be done, and Ferguson drily joked that he would deduct their wardrobes from their dowries. But it was good to see the girls in such high spirits. Now that they smiled at Madeleine rather than wishing her dead, she found them quite charming.

Alex returned with Amelia, who greeted the twins and Ferguson with pleasant grace. She nodded tightly to Madeleine, but neither spoke. Madeleine would have to do something to repair the breach, but the pain of betrayal was still there, and she had more pressing threats to remedy.

Amelia collected the twins and offered to show them Alex’s sculpture gallery, which delighted them both. But just as they were leaving, Kate turned to Madeleine. “Ellie says that if Ferguson does not mention the masquerade within five minutes, you are to shake him until he does so.”

Ferguson scowled as he ushered them out the door. She heard one of the twins giggle as he closed the door behind them. “Do they wish to have a fancy dress ball?” Madeleine asked.

He shook his head. That haggard look was back on his face, with a tightness about the eyes so unlike his typical
sang froid
. “Let us hear what Salford has to say before we discuss the masquerade.”

Madeleine sat on the settee this time, leaving her usual chair for Ferguson. Alex leaned back in his own chair, his fingers steepled in front of him as he chose his words. The sun beyond the windows was glorious, warming the white marble artifacts and giving the room a serenity she did not feel.

Finally, Alex spoke. “I’m sure you both wish me to the devil so you may have a moment in private, and I’ll give it to you whether it’s proper or not. But Rothwell, you must know that certain members of the House of Lords are pressing for an inquiry. There is little hope of stopping this unless you are both prepared for drastic action.”

“Can you not speak for Ferguson in the Lords?” Madeleine asked.

“They would merely think I was protecting you,” Alex said, with the gentle tone of one bringing bad news to an invalid.

“What drastic measures are you suggesting, Salford?” Ferguson demanded. “If you want me to free Madeleine from our engagement...”

“No, of course not — although if I could call you out for it, I would enjoy it,” Alex said, relishing the thought. “I will not tell you what to do. But please know that regardless of what either of you must do to prove Rothwell’s innocence, you have my support.”

“Do you mean that?” Madeleine said, searching his face for conditions and boundaries.

He nodded. “I do hope you will stop seeing me as an overbearing monster, Maddie. I only want what is best for you. And I must admit — I was more than a little envious of the time you spent doing something you loved, even if it was a reckless, stupid risk.”

Alex smiled at her, surrounded by the artifacts of places he would never visit as long as he stayed where he was supposed to. Her heart stuttered — it was little wonder Alex reacted so badly when he discovered that she had stepped out of her traditional role.

“Thank you,” she whispered. It was impossible to say anything else, not with the evidence of all he had sacrificed staring at her from the walls. Finally, she managed to grate out, “We will not be caught.”

“I believe you. Rothwell’s name for you isn’t so inaccurate, even if I hated it at first. You have the courage to find a path, Mad. And if you do not, I will gut your fiancé.”

His bloodthirsty look was back, and Ferguson grinned. “Careful, Salford, or you will have the Lords believing you are a murderer as well.”

“No doubt they will assume that anyone I killed deserved it,” Alex said. “But enough — I shall leave you be so you may make your decision while I evade our sisters.”

His lopsided grin told Madeleine he had planned this, but she couldn’t fault him for wanting to avoid the hopeful debutantes. After he left, she counted to ten, waiting for Ferguson to speak. He sat silent, eyes focused somewhere between Alex’s chair and the lovely light of the window beyond.

“Will you tell me about the masquerade, or shall I shake you?” she asked.