Protected by the Major (7 page)

‘I shall go to the card room,’ Lethbridge said. ‘Sit with your friends, Madeline. If you are asked to dance this evening, you may do so.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ she replied, glancing at his profile. A little nerve flicked at his temple, but he gave no other sign of emotion. Yet she guessed that there was conflict at work within him, though she could not think what it might be.

Seeing Lady Jersey sitting with some other ladies that she knew well, Madeline went towards them and sat on an available chair. She was soon drawn into a discussion about a young lady who was said to be the latest rage and watched Miss Catherine Anderson being courted by her admirers with amusement.

‘Will you dance with me, Lady Lethbridge?’

Madeline glanced up as Hallam spoke. She knew that she should refuse him, but seeing Lord Rochdale approaching her at that moment, she stood up with Hallam before he could reach her.

‘You ought not to have asked me,’ she said as he placed a hand at her back and drew her into a waltz. ‘It is useless, Hal. I cannot leave him...’

‘But he lies to you, he cheated you of your father’s notes.’

‘No, I have them back. My family is safe now.’

‘Then come away with me now—I beg you to leave him now, tonight.’

‘I am afraid of what he might do. Forget me, Hal. I am not worthy of you. I beg you to forget you ever knew me.’

‘Madeline...’ Hal stared at her in dismay. ‘Have you taken leave of your wits? Or is it that you care for him?’

Madeline met his eyes, tears hovering on her lashes as she said, ‘You must believe what you will of me.’ Breaking from him, she walked swiftly away from him and left the ballroom.

She went up to the bedroom given over for the use of female guests that evening and shut herself away in the closet provided for relieving oneself. There, she allowed her tears to fall until she could recover her composure. Returning to the bedroom, she washed her face in cool water from a porcelain jug and tidied herself before going downstairs. No trace of the tears remained, though she looked pale.

It was as she reached the bottom of the stairs that she saw the Marquis of Rochdale. He was about to enter the ballroom, but stopped and waited for her.

‘May I escort you back to the dancing, Madeline?’

‘I did not give you permission to use my first name, sir.’

‘Did you not?’ His lips curled in an unpleasant sneer. ‘You think to flirt with me and then spurn me, madam, but you will learn to know better. It will give me great pleasure to teach you a lesson.’

‘Sir, I think you forget yourself. I shall speak to my husband of your discourtesy.’

He laughed low in his throat. ‘Say what you will, Lethbridge may not be listening,’ he said. ‘A reckoning is coming, Madeline. Next week I dine with you—and then you will discover I am a man of my word.’

Madeline lifted her head proudly and walked past him into the ballroom. Her heart was thumping madly, but she gave no sign of it as she looked about her.

She was afraid of the marquis, afraid of what her husband had done—but she’d sent Hallam away. Oh, how she longed for a shoulder to weep on and a strong arm to hold her!

But it was best this way. She could not bear that Hal should know the depths to which she had fallen. It was best that she never saw him again, for she was soiled and shamed, no fit companion for any decent man.

* * *

Lethbridge rose from the card table after the Marquis of Rochdale had departed, taking his winnings with him. He had lost ten thousand pounds in one sitting to that detestable man and was now ruined. He could not pay without selling his country estate, and if he did that he would lose everything he cared for. His estate had been in his family for four hundred years and it was the source of his income—and his pride. Once it had gone, he would be dunned by all those he owed money to—and then...there would be nothing left.

There was only one thing that stood between him and complete ruin—his wife. Unless he forced Madeline’s father to sell his estate and pay his debts, in as far as he could...but even that would not suffice for he’d given Madeline more than twenty thousand and she’d destroyed them.

But there was one way that he could buy time. The marquis had made it plain to him what he wanted. If he gave him Madeline, he would return the notes and Lethbridge could carry on as before. He would take good care not to sit down with Rochdale again and somehow he would come about. He’d done it before and he could do it again—though never had he been as deep in debt as now.

He’d attempted to cheat this evening, but somehow Rochdale had known which cards he’d marked and turned them against him. He’d actually played into the devil’s hands. How could he have known which cards to look for? But of course, he must have learned to feel the corners for that slight unevenness caused by a pinprick. Most men never knew it was there—but Rochdale did.

Rochdale had made it clear that he would demand payment of Lethbridge’s debts, and he would use the cards to expose the count as a cheat—unless he gave him Madeline.

He must reply by noon the next day or he would lose all he had. He was caught fast in a trap—unless....

A plan had begun to form in Lethbridge’s head, a plan so wicked and devious that it made him shake with excitement. He would agree to the marquis’s demands—he should have his time in bed with Madeline when he came to dine, but then...

No court in the land would convict him of murder for shooting a man he discovered raping his wife.

He smiled unpleasantly. He would allow Rochdale to come to the house and to have Madeline once the notes were returned to him, but then he would burst in on them and shoot him as he lay in her bed.

Once, he could not have borne another man to touch her, but she was cruel and proud. Why should he care what happened to her? He could use her to destroy his enemy and then he could divorce her because she was spoiled goods and had shamed him.

It was such a neat plan that his good humour was restored. And since he was determined to be rid of his wife, why not foreclose on her father and make him pay with the sale of his estate?

* * *

Hallam left the ball feeling angry with Madeline. How could she stay with her husband when she knew what a worthless wretch he was?

Hallam had no idea of the turn events had taken that evening, but what Mainwaring had told him was enough to convince him that the count was close to desperate. His mind was made up—he must engage him in a game of cards as soon as possible for Lethbridge would certainly try to cheat and then he could expose him.

Hallam was torn by his doubts. He hardly knew Maddie these days. As a young girl he’d found her sweet and innocent, incapable of hurting anyone, but then she’d sent him away and married Count Lethbridge. He’d seen her flirting with the marquis and though she’d claimed Lethbridge might ruin her family if she left him, once she had destroyed her father’s notes, she said it was best if Hal forgot her. He was baffled. Was she the girl he loved or someone very different?

Walking home, he turned the thoughts over and over in his mind, trying to discover the truth, but he could not puzzle her out. How could he know whether Madeline truly cared for him or not?

* * *

Madeline rose the next morning feeling heavy-eyed. She’d hardly slept, her thoughts going round and round in circles. She’d regretted dismissing Hal so coldly and wished the words unsaid. Her husband was an unkind man and she feared him more now that he had become a harsh stranger, barely speaking to her unless absolute necessary, than she had when he had visited her bed and abused her both physically and verbally.

When he looked at her now she saw calculation in his eyes and wondered what he was planning.

Feeling close to desperation, she sat down at her desk and wrote a short note to Hal, begging him to meet her again in the park. She wanted to apologise, to make her peace with him and try to explain why she could never be the wife for him even if she were free. How could she when she feared that her husband had destroyed her ability to respond to physical love?

Lethbridge had abused her both physically and mentally; the physical scars were slight and soon mended, but she feared that he had made it impossible for her to welcome a man’s kisses...his loving...even if that man were the only one she’d ever loved.

When Hal had kissed her in the gardens on the day of Jenny and Adam’s wedding, she’d wanted to melt into his arms but then, suddenly, a feeling of fear and revulsion had made her draw back. How could she bear anyone to touch her intimately after...? Even the thought turned her cold and caused an acid sickness in her throat.

Her mind told her that it would be different with Hal, because he was a gentleman and he loved her, but her body had learned to fear the intimate side of marriage.

Somehow, she must explain to Hal. Tell him that she loved him, but could never accept him as a lover. She could never bear anyone to touch her again for she was soiled...shamed beyond bearing.

Her eyes filled with tears as she sealed her letter and summoned Sally. Even though she knew the future held nothing for her, she longed to see Hal just once more...

Chapter Five

M
adeline encountered her husband as she went downstairs just after noon the following day. She had been hoping to escape to the park, where, if he’d received her letter, she hoped Hal would come to meet her. Her heart raced with fear for she saw her husband’s icy eyes and knew he would question her about her intentions.

‘You know that the Marquis of Rochdale is dining with us this evening, Madeline. You should wear the green gown I had made for you in Paris—and do not wear a fichu in the neck. Instead, wear your diamonds.’

‘I do not like that gown, it is too low and reveals too much. It makes me look like a whore,’ Madeline said, her cheeks flushed. Did he intend to humiliate her? ‘The marquis...he is not what you think him, Lethbridge. He may think...he may believe I wear the gown for his benefit.’

‘That is exactly what I wish him to believe,’ Lethbridge said. ‘If he wants to touch or kiss you, you should allow it. I want something from him and if he wants you, then he may have you. You have given me nothing and I may as well get some benefit from all you have cost me.’

Madeline stared at him in horror, her worst fears confirmed. ‘Am I to understand that you would condone...a liaison between us?’

‘Why not?’ her husband sneered, his thick lips curving unpleasantly. ‘You are of no use to me. I might as well lie with a block of wood. Rochdale has something I desire more than I ever desired you, madam. If he will take you in exchange, then good luck to him.’

‘How dare you suggest such a thing to me?’ Madeline cried in utter disgust. ‘You have gone too far, Lethbridge. I shall not do what you ask and I shall leave you. By insulting me so you set me free of any debt of honour I felt towards you. Our marriage is at an end. I no longer owe you any duty.’

‘Damn you,’ he muttered and moved towards her. One hand grabbed her wrist and she saw that he was considering whether to strike her. ‘No, I shall not punish you yet. I would not have you ill before he takes what he wants. But after he has done with you, I shall teach you to obey me. You will not defy me again, madam.’

‘No, I shall not allow it. No matter what you threaten. I shall run away—’

‘Then I’ll lock you in your room until he arrives.’ Lethbridge grabbed her by the hand and started to drag her with him, out into the hall and up the stairs.

Madeline struggled against him, crying out as his fingers dug into her soft skin, but although the servants saw her struggling none attempted to help her. They dared not. He would have them thrashed and they would be dismissed without a reference, cast out without hope of finding another employer. It was useless to ask for help and she did not, though she fought him all the way, but to no avail. He was much too strong for her. She was thrust into her bedchamber, her husband standing in the doorway, glaring at her.

‘Make yourself ready to receive the marquis this evening,’ Lethbridge growled before the door closed. ‘Please him or I shall beat you until you weep for mercy—and I’ll ruin your father.’

‘You may do what you wish to me,’ Madeline said defiantly. ‘I shall run away as soon as I can and you may do your worst.’

‘If you think to run to your lover, think again,’ Lethbridge muttered. ‘I know who he is and I shall kill him.’

‘I have no lover.’

‘I saw you with him in the gardens at Miss Hasting’s wedding—and you’ve been seen with him in the park and other places. Do not try to deny it, madam. I had not decided what to do to him, but it would be better to have him dead. Then you will not have foolish ideas of escaping me by running to Ravenscar.’

Madeline gasped, feeling the colour drain from her face. He knew of Hal! His words were not merely bluff or vain threats this time—she’d been seen in the park with Hal.

‘Yes, I see your guilt and by it you seal his fate,’ Lethbridge said. ‘Tonight you will play the whore for my guest. If you do not, you know what will happen.’

Hearing the door slam and the key turn, Madeline sagged with despair. Hal was in danger. It hardly mattered what her husband did to her now for if Hal were lost to her for ever she did not care if she died.

Sinking down on the edge of the bed, she bent her head and wept. She should have gone with Hal when she had the chance.

Lethbridge would give her to the marquis in return for something he craved. Clearly, he no longer valued her and, perhaps, wished to be rid of her. Was he planning to bring his bastard here—and his mistress? Or did he simply wish to be free of a wife whom he thought of as useless? If she were forced to lie with the marquis, her husband could claim that she had betrayed her vows and divorce her. She would be utterly ruined and ostracised from society.

It was a fiendishly clever plan for he gained something he craved and rid himself of an unwanted wife in one swoop.

‘My lady, you must come now,’ Sally’s voice called to her. Madeline looked towards the dressing-room door and saw her maid beckoning to her. ‘Your husband has gone out and we have a carriage waiting for you—but you must come quickly before he returns.’

‘Sally, you know what he would do to you if he catches us?’

‘I would give my life for you,’ Sally said and smiled bravely. ‘I have packed a bag for you, my lady. Come quickly, I beg you.’

‘But how have you done this? My husband has the keys.’

‘There are other keys,’ Sally replied. ‘I overheard what he was planning to do to you—and Thomas was willing to risk everything for you, as I am.’

‘But where can I go? My father would send me back to my husband.’

‘Not if he knew the truth,’ Sally said. ‘Thomas knows of a place that you can hide, my lady. It will be safe for a few days, but then you must decide where you will go next.’

‘I must send word to Major Ravenscar. My husband means to kill him.’

‘Thomas will take your letter later, but first we must go, before anyone realises what we mean to do.’

‘Yes.’ Madeline stood up. She caught up her cloak, which was lying on a chair where she’d abandoned it earlier, then went to her dressing chest and took out a small box containing the jewels she wore every day. Lethbridge kept the valuable things in his strongbox and gave her what he wished her to wear when he dictated, but she would take the jewels that she had brought with her to the marriage and the few gold coins she had in her reticule. She looked about her chamber, praying that she need never see it again. ‘Let us go now, before my husband returns.’

* * *

‘Where is she?’ Lethbridge thundered at the luckless servant that brought him the news. Arriving home late in the afternoon, he’d gone to his room to change for the evening and then sent a servant to tell Madeline to make ready. ‘By God, if you’ve allowed her to leave, I’ll have you beaten to an inch of your life!’

‘I don’t know where she is,’ the servant said, cringing as his master struck him a blow on the shoulder with his ivory cane. ‘Sally and Thomas must have spirited her away by the back stairs for no one has seen them for hours either.’

‘Damnation!’ Lethbridge glared at him, a vein bulging in his neck. ‘If I discover any of you turned a blind eye, I’ll make you sorr—’ He broke off as the door to the salon opened and his butler announced the arrival of the Marquis of Rochdale. ‘Get out, dog,’ he hissed at the servant, then turned and smiled at his guest, as the footman shot from the room like a scared rabbit. ‘Ah, Rochdale, my dear fellow. I am glad you could come this evening. I’m sorry to have to tell you that Lady Lethbridge is indisposed. I fear she will not be joining us this evening.’

‘Indeed? How very disappointing,’ the marquis said and his lips curled in a sneer. ‘Since the lady is ill I shall not waste your time or mine. I shall be plain with you—unless you give me what you promised, I shall call in my notes. You know what I want, Lethbridge. You implied it would be mine this evening. If you renege on your bargain, I shall ruin you for good in society.’

‘No, no, you shall have her another time,’ Lethbridge said. ‘You know how much I want what you have.’

‘You have three days to bring her to heel,’ the marquis said. ‘I shall not stay. Perhaps another time?’

Lethbridge cursed as the marquis walked out, leaving him staring after him. Damn the woman! He would make her father pay. That would bring her to her senses. He strode up the stairs and into his bedchamber, pulling out the drawer where her father’s notes were kept. Taking out the leather folder, he stared to see it empty and then, realising what must have happened, swore furiously.

She had stolen them! Madeline had outwitted him by taking the notes and then running off with her lover. He had not thought she had the courage to do it or he would have stored them more securely. His own carelessness was to blame, but he did not consider that—only her perfidy in taking them behind his back.

If he could not find her and get her back, he was ruined.

Fury whipped through him. He would find her and kill them both—but before she died, she should suffer agony. His plans for the evening were in ruins and the chance to recoup his notes was lost to him, for if the marquis knew she’d gone to a lover he would waste no more time in claiming his dues. Slamming out of his room, he went down the stairs and out of the house. He must find entertainment elsewhere that night. He would go to his club and see if he could find a plump pigeon to fleece.

Madeline would not be allowed to escape him. She had few jewels and little money for he kept her on a tight string. She could not go far. He would find her—and when he did, he would give her to Rochdale to do with as he pleased, if he would still take her. The man was depraved, far worse than Lethbridge knew how to be—but if he humbled the proud beauty it would serve her right, and he would recover his losses at the card table.

He must find his wife, he would find her! He would fetch her back—and this time she would do what she was told.

* * *

Hallam was seated with a party of gentlemen when Lethbridge walked into the card room at Lord Sawford’s London house. He had been finding it hard to keep his mind on his cards for most of the evening, because all he could think of was Madeline. She’d sent him such a strange note, begging him to meet her in the park. He’d gone to their meeting place and waited, but she had not come. Why had she not kept the appointment she’d made? Ought he to have gone to her house and asked for her? Yet she had begged him not to do so and he’d feared she might suffer if he had.

Seeing the count entering the room, Hallam was instantly alerted. Something was wrong.

Why was Lethbridge here when he was supposed to be dining with the Marquis of Rochdale that night? Frowning, he watched as Lethbridge wove his way through the room, stopping to talk to various gentlemen before arriving at Hallam’s table.

‘Thought you were entertaining at home this evening?’ one of the gentlemen seated at Hallam’s table offered.

‘My guest had another appointment he was forced to keep,’ Lethbridge said, but the look in his eyes was furious, as if he could barely keep his anger inside. ‘May I join you, gentlemen?’

Hallam glanced at Mainwaring. He sat up, suddenly all attention as there was a polite murmur of acceptance and Lethbridge drew out a chair and sat down. He would have preferred to leave the table and take his place behind the count so that he might see what was going on while his friend played, but Lethbridge’s request left him no choice but to play on.

He actually had winning cards that hand and took the pot of five hundred guineas. Since he’d won it was his turn to deal, which he did with a new pack. It was brought to the table and broken open by the waiter, as was the custom when a new game began.

Hallam realised that he must be alert at all times. The cards were clean now but, if Lethbridge played as usual, by the third hand after he joined the table they would be marked.

Lethbridge ordered a bottle of wine and glasses were filled, but Hallam noticed that the count merely sipped his. He did the same, watching as the first hand played out. Mainwaring won easily, and another gentleman won the second, but Lethbridge took the third and the fourth.

‘What do you say to raising the stakes?’ he asked pleasantly.

Hallam hesitated. He would not normally play so deep, but he had won a large pot and could afford to lose a hand or two even at the higher stake of fifty guineas a hand—and it was the best way to discover what Lethbridge was doing.

He went down heavily the next two games and then, having discovered which cards were marked, watched Lethbridge’s hand reach beneath the table. When the count began to deal again, he stood up.

‘I do not play with cheats,’ he said. His announcement sent shockwaves through the company and all eyes turned on him. ‘I am speaking of Lethbridge. I know that you have marked the cards, sir.’

‘How dare you!’ Lethbridge was on his feet, a vein bulging at his temple. ‘You will answer to me for that.’

‘Here is your answer, sir.’ Hallam handed three of his cards to the other gentlemen to examine. ‘The ace is pricked twice, the king once and the queen three times.’

‘And why have you decided that I am the culprit?’ Lethbridge demanded, glaring across the table at him. ‘It might as well have been you, sir.’

‘This is not the first time I’ve watched you cheat,’ Hallam said. ‘Mainwaring—would you mind looking at the edge of his coat cuff, just below the brocade? I believe you will discover that there is a pin stuck into the material.’

‘Certainly,’ Jack Mainwaring agreed and reached for Lethbridge’s arm. His hand was struck away angrily, but the movement caused a card to fall from beneath his ruffle. One of the other gentlemen reached over to pick up the jack of clubs, which, his fingers soon told him, was still unmarked. ‘I think that proves your guilt, Lethbridge. For myself I have lost to you too often of late to doubt Ravenscar’s word. I had wondered why you won so consistently.’

‘Nonsense. I lost heavily to Rochdale the other night—anyone will tell you so. Anyone could have marked those cards. Why should it be me?’

‘Why did you have the jack hidden in your cuff?’

‘Damn you and him!’ Lethbridge said, his neck and face brick red. He’d been exposed as a cheat in public and knew that his days of winning large pots at the tables of his society friends was over, because the news would spread like wildfire, but was determined to bluster it out. ‘I know not where that card came from. It was probably planted on me—’