Kresley Cole - [MacCarrick Brothers 03] (34 page)

In answer, he’d slowly lifted her skirts, then ripped the slit of her pantalettes wide, making her tremble with anticipation. When he’d suckled her through her wet blouse, she’d been overwhelmed by sensation. She’d grown lost in the feel of his hot mouth against her nipples and his muscles flexing beneath her palms. The crisp, tantalizing scent of his body had mingled with that of lichen-covered rocks and fragrant heath.

He’d lifted her, his big hand pressing her head firmly to his chest. With his other arm looped around her bottom, he’d held her in place as he’d slid inside her. When she’d moaned, swiftly on the verge, his thrusts had turned hard and furious. As she’d climaxed, he’d pumped inside her, hissing, “
Let this take….”

She knew he hadn’t realized he’d spoken out loud. The desperate need in his words and in his continued actions disquieted her….

It was times like those—when he behaved in inexplicable ways, when she could feel that secrets and barriers and even lies remained between them—that she began to have a growing sense of foreboding.

She told herself that her apprehension arose only because the last time she’d been this content had been directly before her life had been devastated. She’d been so unprepared for the world of La Marais. So afraid. So…
useless
.

Maddy had picked herself up, again and again, learning to survive. Reflecting on the past, she didn’t know how she’d done it.

De mal en pire.
She couldn’t help it—she’d begun saving her pin money.

Forty

E
than located Maddy in one of her favorite places—the orangery, with the black kitten lazing against the warm glass. That little beastie actually liked him, which only further proved Maddy’s theory on Ethan and cats.

After leisurely kissing Maddy’s neck in greeting, he said, “I’ve received a missive from my brother.”

“Is anything wrong?”

“Doona know.” The cryptic message was from Hugh, so it could be about either Network business or family concerns. “Just know it’s important. He needs me in London immediately. How much time do you need to get ready?”

“How long would the trip be?”

“No’ long. Three or four days, I suspect.”

“Then maybe I could just stay here?” she asked. “I know you probably need to hurry.”

“Why? Is something wrong?”

“No, no, I’m just a little under the weather,” she answered.

He grasped her chin, turning her face side to side. “No doubt from being in this chilly room.” Though the glass was sun-warmed, the inside space was cool and damp in the mornings. Yet he couldn’t seem to get the furnace to work. He’d wanted to hire a machinist, but Ethan’s lass seemed to think he could do anything. So damn if he wasn’t crawling under that sputtering boiler at every spare moment.

“Ethan, it’s perfectly fine in here—”

“You doona actually expect me to leave you when you’re sick?”

“I’m not
sick
,” she said. “You have been very demanding lately, keeping me up at all hours of the night. And if you stayed, I’d want you to continue your demanding.” She grinned, but she did look tired. “Agnes and her children can come stay with me for a few days. It’ll be fun. We’ll eat candy and play charades and wreck your house like barbarians sacking a city.”

“
Our
house,” Ethan corrected. “Best remember you own half of everything you’re breaking.”

Though he loathed the idea of being separated from her, he knew she wasn’t hankering to meet his family. And he couldn’t allow her to meet them yet anyway. Hugh might have revealed everything to Jane. Ethan doubted it, but he couldn’t risk Maddy’s hearing the truth from anyone but him. To ruin what they were enjoying because he couldn’t leave her for three days…?

Besides, he needed to meet with Edward Weyland face-to-face—and officially retire.

“Aye, verra well,” Ethan agreed. “But only if Agnes and the children stay with you. I’ll either return for you or send someone to escort you down within four days.”

As soon as Maddy saw Ethan off that morning—with lingering kisses that almost made him miss the train—she and Sorcha began a baking frenzy. Six children meant lots of scones.

Agnes and her brood weren’t supposed to arrive before midafternoon, so when Maddy grew overheated, she went upstairs to rest.

Though Maddy already missed Ethan terribly, she was glad she hadn’t gone this morning. First of all, the very idea of meeting Ethan’s family nauseated her. Second of all, Maddy had questions for Agnes. The widow had six children.

If there was anyone who could help Maddy figure out if she was expecting, it’d be her.

In any case, Maddy was excited about the children coming over. She wanted to make forts for them out of curtains and pillows, forts like they’d never seen.

Sitting at her new escritoire, she collected her pile of recent mail. Yesterday, she’d been too busy to sort through the weekly bunch. She grinned to herself—Ethan had been insatiable.

Flipping through the envelopes, she found invitations, a letter from Corrine, and one from Owena Dekindeeren of the
Blue Riband
coterie. Maddy frowned when she came across a thick missive she didn’t recognize. She opened the seal and read the return address. It was from Iveley! She quickly skimmed the lines.

Just two weeks ago, she’d written to inquire about visiting, explaining who she was and her connection to the property. The land agent had responded promptly. He prefaced his note by admitting to being newly hired. He was experiencing some confusion and asked to be pardoned for it, but…“
You, Lady Kavanagh, are the owner of Iveley Hall.”

Yet how…? Maddy’s eyes widened. Ethan had bought Iveley for her? “That man!” she said in an exasperated tone, but she was smiling. When was he going to tell her about this?

She could scarcely believe she owned Iveley. And apparently Ethan had at last found a hardworking steward for one of their estates—included in the envelope was a detailed report of improvement after improvement to the property.

Trembling with excitement, she turned to the second page of the note, skimming the lines with growing incomprehension.
Your mysterious inquiry so puzzled me…after considerable hours of diligent research…discovered your husband had gifted Iveley to you four months ago…after having owned the property for nearly ten years…assumed directly upon your father’s forfeit of the same.

“This can’t be,” she whispered, her hand fluttering to her forehead.

How could Ethan not have told her he’d owned her childhood home? And for so long? He had to have made the connection.

Surely it couldn’t have been
Ethan
who’d foreclosed on them. Maddy had known Iveley had been seized—how could she ever forget being denied entry into her own home?—but Ethan couldn’t have been the one who’d forced them into the streets on the very day of her father’s burial.

The idea was too incredible—she could hardly conceive it. She reread the letter, but the content didn’t change, no matter how badly she willed it to.

There was no coincidence. Her husband had willfully deceived her about this. Maddy remembered those times when she’d talked about Iveley or her parents and Ethan had grown distant.
Think, Maddy
. Even as she resisted, a nebulous picture began to form from the facts she knew about Ethan.

He’d traveled to Paris for Maddy—though she could have sworn he hadn’t even liked her. He’d offered for her, a girl from a slum, instead of someone worthy of his title. And then he’d steadfastly refused to marry her—until she’d threatened to leave. She recalled his unsettling anger toward her earlier and the frenzied way he bought her gifts now.

What if there were deeds in my past?
he’d asked. He
had
been trying to make up for something, but not for what she’d thought.

He’d foreclosed on them viciously, leaving them destitute.

But why? He had to have some grudge. Why her family?

She recalled him asking,
How did
Sylvie
die?
Maddy’s eyes narrowed. She’d known he’d met her mother! So why would he repeatedly lie about the connection?

What
exactly was the connection?

Maddy began to have a sinking feeling in her stomach. Her mother had been ravishing—and faithless. Ethan had been a libertine who’d cuckolded a new husband every night. She remembered him admitting,
“If they were married, then even better.”
The two of them had been near in age.

Had Ethan had an affair with her mother? Why else would he lie so persistently?

Maddy had always wanted the key to unlock that night when her life had fallen apart. The questions had driven her mad. Now she felt the answers were there, just within her grasp.

Had her father unexpectedly returned home and caught his much younger wife in bed…with Ethan?

Maddy put her hand to her mouth to stifle a shocked cry. At twenty-three and without that scar, Ethan would have been gorgeous. Her aging father, who’d been dearer to Maddy than all the world, would have been devastated to see the wife he adored in bed with a strapping young Highlander.

Granted, Maddy couldn’t know for fact that Sylvie and Ethan had…that they’d…

She shook her head hard. That part could be merely the imaginings of a frantic woman. But Maddy knew without doubt that Ethan had lied to her repeatedly and had sought revenge against her family. She couldn’t state with certainty exactly why he’d punished her parents, leaving her as a casualty, but no matter if they’d deserved it or not, Maddy
definitely
hadn’t.

It was one thing to be a victim of circumstance and quite another to have a man show up on your doorstep to destroy you. She hadn’t deserved to be dragged into this tragedy again.

Considering all that he’d done and deceived her about, she had to wonder if anything was true. Recalling the hasty marriage license—which Ethan had somehow had time to acquire
after
drunkenly plotting the seduction of two barmaids—and the very simple ceremony with the registrar, Maddy realized she might not even be truly married.

Not one of the ladies in the boulangerie after all…

Ethan had looked her in the eyes and vowed that if she could just see her way to giving him one more chance, he wouldn’t hurt her again.

Lies.
He’d broken that vow, among others.
The studied deception.

She’d been used. She was stunned, feeling so deadened that she was surprised she perceived her heart beating, could actually hear it in the silence of the room.

Maddy remembered Ethan once telling her to leave La Marais behind, not to look back. What had his plan been at the time? And if her friends had come to live with them and depend on them? On
him
? Maybe that was why he’d been so insistent about them coming.

What am I going to do?
All she knew was that she wanted
away from him
, to be far away by the time he returned. She rose, and through tears gazed out the window at the windswept sea.

Maddy had called this place a fairy tale, and it had proved just as fantastical. Here, all was illusion.
Peacocks and palm trees; jewels and sunsets over a blue Irish sea?
If it sounds too good to be true…

You’re a fool.

She’d take the filth and danger of La Marais, hard and real before her, over this, over the lies of her husband, of their life. “Just one more chance,” he’d said, even while
knowing
her trust would be in vain. He’d known she would discover his deceit. “What happens if you find out something from my past that you canna abide and you leave me?”

She’d
pleaded
with him not to hurt her again.
How many more times will I endure having my hopes crushed?
How many more times
could
she endure it?

No more. She truly was finished this time.

“I’ll never let you go,” he’d vowed, and she believed him. Somewhere along the way, he’d fallen in love with her—or as much as possible for a man like him, with the lies between them.

In fact, she sensed that what he felt for her bordered on obsession. If she left, he wouldn’t rest until he found her.

But she was Maddy
la Gamine
—she could find her way out of anything. She had the jewelry he’d given her, and all the money she’d wisely begun hiding away.

She’d go back to La Marais. But only to collect her friends.

On their way to somewhere else.

Forty-one

E
than heard the screams from his Grosvenor town house before he even set eyes on the property.

To his shock, he saw Court and Hugh outside—
not
running to the sound. Court looked as though he was about to murder someone.

Ethan swung down from his horse. “Why the hell haven’t you gone up—” Another scream sounded, and Court bellowed in answering pain, punching his fists against the brick wall. Blood was already matted there from previous hits.

“Stop it, Court,” Hugh snapped. “She’ll no’ like that I let you hurt yourself like this.”

“How could they send me away?” Court asked, his voice hoarse, his eyes dazed.

“I wonder,” Hugh said dryly.

Ethan finally found his voice. “What the hell is going on?”

“They’ve asked me to keep him downstairs for the present,” Hugh said.

“Who?”

“Did you no’ get our letters?”

“No letters, just a short telegram to Carillon—”

“I wasn’t sure if you still owned that one,” Hugh said. “I sent telegrams to the less likely of your haunts.” He narrowed his eyes. “What were you doing there?”

“Spendin’ the winter. Now answer me. What is going on here?”

“This is the birth of your niece or nephew,” Hugh said proudly. “And the possible loss of your brother’s sanity.”

“Birth?”
Ethan tripped back against his horse. That arse of a horse sidestepped, and he almost fell. “Now?”