His Wicked Wish (27 page)

“No.” Dunham bent his head close and hissed into her ear, “As I told you before, I will not allow my brother within a mile of Lady Emily. My grandfather would frown upon him associating with a family that would allow an actress to marry into the nobility.”

“Yet you yourself are associating with me right now.”

“I am not a green boy like Theo. And unlike Rowley, I'd never allow myself to be trapped into marriage by a scheming female.”

If only he knew, Nathan had enticed her, rather than vice versa. Aware of the many curious glances around them, Maddy smiled pleasantly while clenching her teeth. “Will you walk with me for a moment? There are too many listening ears around us.”

His mouth curled in a sly smile. He caught her hand and tucked it in the crook of his arm. “Tired of Rowley already? Now that he's broken you to the saddle, I would be happy to ride you in his stead.”

His disgusting comment made her fume. But she could hardly slap his face in full view of the ton. “What a vile thing to say. Nathan would call you out if he knew.”

“But he won't know. And you're too fascinated by me to tell him.”

He was right about her not telling Nathan, though not for the reason he believed. Dunham was conceited enough to think she wanted an affair with him. He didn't know they were cousins. Or that there was too much at stake for her to risk telling Nathan about the insult.

Lord Dunham led her out of the ballroom and through the throngs of people in the reception area at the head of the staircase. He kept his hand locked firmly over hers so that she could not escape without causing a scene. To anyone else, it would look as if they were enjoying a pleasant stroll.

Maddy felt a jab of alarm. He was guiding her toward the corridor that led to the back of the house. “Look, there are two chairs against the wall where we can sit and talk.”

She tried to steer him to the private corner, protected from eavesdroppers by two large ferns on pedestals, but he hauled her onward down the passageway. “It's far too visible,” he said. “We need somewhere more secluded. After all, you wouldn't wish to create a scandal at Lady Emily's debut ball.”

“This is absurd, Lord Dunham,” she said forcefully, keeping her voice low. “I will not leave this party in your company.”

“Call me Alfred. And we need a quiet place for this meeting. Ah, here we go.”

Her cousin hauled her through a doorway and into the morning room. A fire burned low on the hearth, though no one occupied the chamber. By day, the green and gold décor was soothing and pleasant with a view of the back garden. By night, the room took on a sinister aspect with deeply shadowed corners despite the glow from a candle lamp on a table.

Or perhaps it was merely her dislike of her companion that made Maddy feel uneasy. And the fact that Dunham closed the door.

She wrenched her arm free and took several steps back. She mustn't be afraid of him. Though it would cause gossip if they'd been spotted coming in here, she must avail herself of the opportunity to speak her piece quickly.

She drew a calming breath. “I wanted to talk to you for one reason, and one reason only. You said that
you
will not allow Lord Theo to court Emily, that your grandfather would not approve. Did you ever actually
ask
the Duke of Houghton about the matter? Or are you merely presuming to know his will?”

Dunham's brow furrowed in a frown. “As his heir, I speak for my grandfather on all issues. Especially now that his health is failing.”

The news jolted Maddy. Her plan would be ruined if she was too late to confront the duke. “Failing? What's wrong with him? Is he dying?”

“I shouldn't think that would matter to you.”

“It matters if his ball is canceled. It's an opportunity for Lord Theo to dance with Emily. And I do think you're making a mistake by keeping them apart. There's nothing more guaranteed to make them yearn for each other than forced separation.”

“Never mind those two. I'd rather speak of us.” He started toward her. “I was angry at first that you'd chosen Rowley over me. But now I can see the potential for quite the tidy arrangement.”

Her heart thudding, Maddy backed away from his advance. He blocked her access to the door. There was no way to dart past him without risking capture. “Tidy arrangement?”

“If we're careful, you and I can enjoy an illicit affair right under his nose. I'll make it well worth your while.”

She laughed. She couldn't help herself. What monumental vanity he had. “Why would you think I'd choose you over Nathan?” Seeing his pale eyebrows clash in a frown, she said firmly, “I assure you, Lord Dunham, I've no interest in an affair with you or any other man.”

“You sought me out. You said that you wanted to speak in private.”

“Only so that I might plead for Emily and your brother.” Reaching behind, she closed her fingers around the metal rod of the fire iron. As he stepped closer, she brought the makeshift weapon around in front of her skirt, ready to raise it if necessary. “Keep your distance, sir!”

Her cousin stopped, anger on his face. “What the devil—”

The door banged open. Nathan stepped into the room.

Though startled, Maddy felt a rush of relief. She had never been more glad to see him. In the same instant, she realized how damning the scene must look, with her clutching the fire iron and Dunham about to grab her.

Nathan's face darkened with rage. He lunged at her cousin. “You bastard! What are you doing with my wife?”

“Nothing!” Dunham blustered, taking refuge behind a sturdy armchair. “We were merely talking.”

“The hell you were!”

As her husband drew back his fist, Maddy sprang in between the two men. She grabbed hold of his sleeve and dug her fingers into his arm. “Nathan, no! You can't be fighting. Not at your sister's ball!”

“He was attacking you!”

In a flash, she realized that he mustn't be allowed to think that. If he started a feud with Dunham, Nathan might rescind their acceptance to the Duke of Houghton's ball. She would never have the chance to confront her grandfather.

She shook her head vehemently. “That isn't what happened. You misread the situation. Lord Dunham and I were having a brief chat, that's all.”

“With a fire iron in your hand?”

“Yes, I was about to stir up the fire.” She marched to the hearth and jabbed the coals. The flames flared and a shower of sparks flew up the chimney. “See? I'm sure that Lord Dunham would like to go now. Our conversation is over.”

“Indeed, I've never been more insulted,” her cousin said. He straightened his lapels, his wary gaze on Nathan as he sidled toward the door. “Good evening, Lady Rowley. I can't say it's been a pleasure.”

As soon as he vanished out the doorway, Nathan swung toward her. Suspicion burned in his green eyes. “You were protecting him. Why?”

Maddy took her time putting the fire iron back in its proper place. “Protecting?” She affected a laugh. “No. I only spoke to him in private because I was hoping to convince him to allow his brother to court Emily. How did you find us, anyway?”

“The two of you walked past the card room. You looked quite cozy.”

His fingers were still clenched into fists. His jaw was taut, his gaze hard and angry. Reaching up, she stroked his cheek to soothe him. “It was a misunderstanding, that's all. He and I had a short conversation. A few minutes, nothing more.”

He looked only slightly placated. “It was foolish of you to come in here with him. He's a reprobate of the worst ilk. Even if you
did
only mean to talk, you could have been seen by one of the guests.”

“Perhaps, but a bit of outrageous behavior will only be an embarrassment to your father. So why would you object?”

“Because you're my wife, that's why. You're to stay away from miscreants like him. Is that clear?”

Maddy knew he was possessive of her, perhaps because of his mother's affairs. Yet she couldn't resist playing with fire. She stepped closer to him, gliding her fingertips over his lips. “Very clear. I'm sorry if I made you jealous.”

He caught hold of her wrist and gripped it. His stony gaze lowered to her mouth. His chest heaved with barely restrained emotion, and her insides contracted with eager anticipation. He would kiss her. He would wrap his arms around her and subject her to his passion.

But he didn't. Instead, he released her arm, turned away, and stalked out of the room.

 

Chapter 19

Nate cupped the pair of dice in one palm and blew on them before flinging the ivory cubes onto the green baize cloth of the hazard table. He struggled to focus his bleary eyes. To his displeasure, the numbers came up a one and a two.

Groans erupted from the other five gentlemen around the table. “Crabs!” one of them shouted. “You've lost, Rowley.”

“That's it, I'm out,” Nate muttered.

Grabbing his glass, he stood up, swaying on his feet from far too much brandy. Aside from a few hoots, no one really objected to his departure. Another fellow immediately slid into his chair and scooped up the dice. Although he'd once been cronies with these men, they already had forgotten him in anticipation of the next roll.

Nate ambled drunkenly away. He had lost nearly five hundred after several hours' play. He could afford to lose more, but the notion sickened him. He had known men who had played through the night and lost a hundred thousand or more. Back in his youth, he had gone deeply into debt playing hazard. It hadn't mattered to him because Gilmore had been forced to pay off those obligations.

But now, the funds came out of his own pocket. And Nate worked too damned hard to squander his wealth on a roll of the dice.

He set down his empty glass and took another from a passing waiter. Smoke from cigars formed a haze in the low-ceilinged chamber. The gaming club was located in the back room of a brothel. While a number of the patrons played dice or cards, women in scanty attire nuzzled with gentlemen in dark corners.

This was his old hunting ground. The place where he had whiled away his dissipated youth. The hellhole where he'd drilled countless whores in the upstairs bedchambers and had mistakenly thought that made him a man.

What a damned fool he had been. He didn't belong here anymore. Especially when he was unsteady on his feet. He ought to be home in bed. With Madelyn.

I'm sorry if I made you jealous.

Her infuriating apology of the previous night still irked him. He tilted his glass and drained it, the brandy sliding down his throat. Like hell he was jealous. Jealousy implied devotion to his wife. It meant he adored her so much he couldn't bear to see her with another man.

Utter nonsense.

Jealousy had nothing whatsoever to do with his violent reaction to finding her with Dunham. Rather, Nate had paid a steep price for her in the form of a generous stipend and the honor of his name. He expected Madelyn to please
him,
not engage in trysts with other men.

Especially Dunham.

Nate burned to know what was going on between those two. She claimed to have no interest in Houghton's heir. Yet something there wasn't right and Nate couldn't quite put his finger on what. Especially not now when he was in his cups. He bitterly regretted not planting his fist in the man's face while he'd had the chance.

Nate felt a caressing touch on his arm. He turned to see a curvy brunette smiling at him. She had pretty features, a Cupid's-bow mouth, and a large bosom that strained at the low-cut bodice of her green gown. Like a cat wanting to be petted, she rubbed herself against him, her flowery perfume like a cloud around her. “You appear in need of companionship, my lord. Perhaps you'll join me upstairs.”

Her invitation left him unmoved. At one time, he would have jumped at the chance to bed such a comely female. Now, however, he could only think she wasn't Madelyn.

I'm sorry if I made you jealous.

The sly jab of his wife's words continued to gnaw at him. It implied that Madelyn thought she had him on a short leash. That she could lead him wherever she pleased. Dammit,
he
owned
her,
not vice versa. He couldn't allow her to rule him.

He put down his glass and grabbed the woman's arm. “Let's go.”

As they proceeded toward the door, he tried not to weave. He'd bed this doxy, by God, and prove that Madelyn had no control over him. One female was as good as any other in the dark.

At that moment, they passed a twosome snuggled together on a chaise in a darkened corner. The fair-haired man looked familiar. With a nasty jolt, Nate recognized those sharp, narrow features.

He stopped dead. He blinked, certain his muddled brain must be playing tricks. But no. It really
was
Dunham.

The scoundrel had his hands beneath the skirts of a blond woman. She was sitting astride his lap, whispering and giggling as she undulated against him. She was slim and shapely and in that crimson gown with her back turned, she looked like …

Madelyn.

Nate didn't stop to question the logic of his wife visiting a brothel. He didn't stop to think at all. In a rage, he charged toward the pair. “Blast you, Dunham! Ge' away from m' wife!”

He caught hold of the woman's shoulders and yanked her away. She squealed in alarm. The face that looked up at him was sloe-eyed with a tiny doll nose and a rather vacant expression.

She wasn't Madelyn.

Dunham scowled. “What the devil—Rowley?” Then he barked out a laugh. “You can't truly have thought this whore was your wife.”

Nate felt like a fool, and that fact only deepened his fury. “Filthy dog. I wouldn't put it past you.”

Dunham curled his upper lip in a wily expression. “Well, I do prefer whorish blondes, after all. Especially when they kiss well.”