Chapter Nine − Another Ball
Striding through the front entrance as though nothing had happened, as though she were merely returning from an outing with a friend, Madeline found herself in her father’s townhouse, her gaze gliding over the familiar surroundings with a touch of disbelief. Were it not for the simple, golden ring on the fourth finger of her left hand, Madeline would have thought the past few days a mere dream.
“Madeline?”
Inhaling a deep breath, Madeline turned to face her father. “Good day, Father. I hope you are well. Is this not delightful weather?”
Not answering her question, his slightly narrowed eyes settled on her face, confusion only too visible in them. “May I ask what brings you here?” He glanced behind her at the footmen carrying her luggage up the stairs. “Is something wrong?”
“Not at all,” Madeline replied with feigned cheerfulness. “Since my husband has returned to the country to see to his estate, I’ve decided to return home…at least until the end of the Season.”
Taking a step closer, her father gently took her arm and led her into the drawing room. After the doors were firmly closed, he turned to her. “Is his home not also your home now? Why did you not accompany him?”
Ignoring the slight tremble in her hands, Madeline forced a deep smile on her face. “Oh, Father, you know how much I like town. Don’t say you object to my being here!”
Strangely enough, those words served to conjure an image of her husband as he had stood before her on their wedding night, his eyes hard and full of anger. Then, she had asked him if he did not object to her having an affair.
I would object. However, I will not stand in your way, should you decide to do so.
Those words had echoed in her mind all night, and not even the morning sun had been able to silence them. And yet, they confused her as much now as they had then.
Her husband was an enigma. One moment, he seemed to want her looking at her with a possessive hunger that stole the breath from her lungs, and the next, he thrust her into another man’s arms without a look back.
However, in the end, his words did not matter, did they? It was his action that did. After all, he had left.
Without her.
Without speaking to her.
Clearly, he did not want her.
Madeline swallowed. There was no use in crying over spilled milk. Well, there was no use in crying at all. The only thing she could do was decide what would happen next, and thankfully, her husband had given her free rein.
“Of course, I do not object,” her father exclaimed, confusion still clouding his grey eyes. Madeline sighed. She could not blame him. “However, I admit I am surprised. I’ve never heard of a husband and wife going their separate ways so soon after the ceremony.”
After years of schooling her features to take on an expression of interested indifference, Madeline sat down on the settee, then met her father’s gaze. “Apparently, his estate needs tending to,” she said as calmly as she could while her heart hammered in her chest, “and as I would be of no use to him there, he was…kind enough to allow me to remain in town.”
“I see,” her father grumbled, his quick eyes moving as he sat down opposite her. “How long do you plan on staying?”
Indefinitely. Taking a deep breath, Madeline shrugged, the expression on her face non-chalant. “I haven’t decided yet.”
Leaning forward, her father met her gaze without flinching, and she was surprised by the watchfulness she saw there. “You cannot avoid him forever. He may not have been your choice, but despite his origins, I’m convinced he is a good man. I would not have given him your hand if I didn’t believe so.”
Staring at her father in disbelief, Madeline swallowed. These days everyone seemed to have an opinion of whom she ought to marry, even her usually absent-minded father, who had never uttered a word about matchmaking within her earshot. Had they all banded together to see their expectations met? For a moment, Madeline felt as though she was at the core of some conspiracy. Even Aunt Odelia who had been able to conjure objections regarding every one of Madeline’s suitors had seemed suspiciously content at the ceremony.
Rising to her feet, Madeline straightened her shoulders. “Believe what you will,” she said, unable to meet his gaze. “However, I will do as I see fit.” And with that she hastened from the room and rushed up the stairs, a desperate need for her bedchamber’s solitude burning in her chest.
Over the course of the next few days, Madeline almost perfected the art of pacing. As her mind could not seem to relinquish the memory of her husband’s hard eyes as well as the strained tone of his voice as he had spoken to her last, Madeline felt her body respond with a similar restlessness. Up and down the length of her bedchamber she walked, occasionally stopping by the window and gazing out at the quiet garden below before resuming her exercise.
“Bloody hell, Madeline,” she cursed herself, surprised at the harsh words that left her lips, “would you finally make up your mind! You cannot stay in this room until the end of your days.”
As though fate had heard her pleading heart, a luncheon invitation arrived that very day, and Madeline decided to simply accept her new life the way it was and decide step by step what to do next.
At first, she found herself eyed with utter curiosity by the attending members of the ton; however, as she was resolved not to speak about her husband, her marriage or the scandal that had brought them together, conversations soon turned to more interesting events.
Relaxing into her usual self, Madeline could almost pretend as though nothing had happened, and she began to wonder if her husband’s suggestion had any merit. Maybe he was wise to consider their marriage a union on paper only. Maybe they would both be happier if they did not pretend they were a suitable match and simply continued their lives as though they had never even met. Was that possible? The thought alone seemed outrageous…scandalous…wicked.
A few days later, Madeline found her decision made for her when she arrived at a picnic in Hyde Park and found Lord Townsend standing by a cluster of trees, conversing with a group of gentlemen. The moment their eyes met, Madeline felt a familiar rush, and she revelled in the delighted expression that lit up his eyes. As he continued speaking, his gaze remained almost fixed on her, and before she knew what was happening, he excused himself and came striding toward her.
“My dear Lady Ma…Ainsworth.” He caught himself in the last moment, and Madeline could see the light leave his eyes as sadness overtook them. “It is good to see you.” He glanced behind her. “Is your husband not here? I’ve heard rumours that he’s left for the country; however, I didn’t dare…” His voice trailed off, and yet, the hope that he did not dare speak of was only too visible in his blue eyes.
“It is true,” Madeline whispered, transfixed with the way his gaze held hers…so gentle and caring. How different could her life have been had he found her alone that night at Lord Kingsley’s ball? She would be happy now, excited to begin the life she had always wanted for herself. However, now, this was a hollow dream. She would never be Lord Townsend’s wife, but she could be his−
“I suspect you will join him in the country soon?” he interrupted her thoughts, his gaze gliding over her face, and an appreciative glow came to his eyes.
Madeline sighed. “I haven’t decided yet. As I do find the country rather uneventful, I was hoping for a more diverting opportunity.”
A delighted smile lifted the corners of Lord Townsend’s mouth. “Well, in that case, I would be honoured if you agreed to attend the house party I’m planning for a few close friends.” He chuckled. “I have to say I do agree with your assessment of the country. I, too, prefer town as I cherish the company of good friends.”
As her heart thudded wildly in her chest, Madeline found herself accepting Lord Townsend’s invitation before she could reason with herself and convince her heart of the foolishness of this endeavour. Could she truly do this? Never had she even once contemplated taking a lover. And yet, could she truly allow this opportunity to be with the man who should have been her husband to pass her by? Did she not deserve a few weeks of happiness? Did she not deserve to know what it felt to be in the arms of someone who cared about her?
After all, her husband would not care.
Especially if he never knew.
And he never would. She only needed to be discreet about it.
As the end of the Season slowly approached, Madeline continued to pace the length of her bedchamber. Only now she was not driven by indecision but by excitement and anticipation instead. Tonight would be the last ball of the Season, and then she would travel to Lord Townsend’s country estate to attend his house party. How soon would he find an opportunity to kiss her? She could not help but wonder.
“Are you all right?” Elsbeth asked later that night as they stood side by side by the refreshment table, a drink in hand. “You seem rather quiet, and you haven’t danced once all night.” A tentative smile came to her friend’s face. “I admit it worries me. It’s not like you at all.”
Madeline drew in a deep breath, knowing that her friend would never approve of her decision. Not the way Elsbeth felt about her own husband. “A lot has changed,” she finally said, her gaze shifting to her friend. “Although I am married now, my husband does not desire my company.”
Elsbeth nodded, a touch of sympathy in her eyes. “I heard he returned to the country.” Then she glanced around the room, and a smile drew up the corners of her mouth. “But tonight, the Season will be over, and you can join him and show him the value of your company.”
Slowly, Madeline shook her head as she watched the dancing couples with a touch of envy burning in her heart. “I will not. I have no desire to waste away in the country.”
Elsbeth’s gaze narrowed. “Do you truly wish to live your life apart from your husband? Never knowing the kind of man he is?”
“It is what he wants.”
Elsbeth shook her head. “I refuse to believe that. Besides, will you not also be bored if you remain in Town all by yourself?”
“I have no intention of doing so,” Madeline admitted, preparing herself for her friend’s disapproval. “Lord Townsend has invited me to join his house party.”
For a long moment, Elsbeth looked at her, her normally gentle eyes sharp as she watched Madeline with care. Then her gaze widened, and she shook her head vehemently. “Madeline, you cannot!” she exclaimed as realisation dawned. Then she stepped closer, and her voice dropped to a mere whisper. “You’re married. You cannot betray your husband.”
Doubt settled on Madeline’s heart at her friend’s words, but she willed it away, turning to meet Elsbeth’s gaze with determination. “He won’t mind.” Or would he?
“Of course, he would−”
“It was his idea!” Madeline hissed under her breath, feeling the sting of her husband’s rejection drill into her heart and soul. Never had she felt so utterly unwanted…and worthless.
Wide-eyed, Elsbeth stared at her. “You cannot be serious. What husband would ever…?”
“Mine, apparently,” Madeline replied, trying her best to hold on to her composure. “He gave me leave to conduct myself as I want, and what I want is…”
“Him?” Elsbeth asked as Lord Townsend−as if on cue−came waltzing past them, a young lady in his arms, their gazes locked as though they saw only each other.
Madeline sighed, “He cares for me.”
“Are you certain?”
Madeline swallowed. He did, didn’t he? Please, someone had to.
As the last notes of the waltz faded away, Madeline lifted her gaze, searching for the one man who promised to make her feel worthy of his attention. At first, she could not spot him anywhere, and her heart sank. Had he not seen her? Or did he choose to stay away? Had he found a lady more deserving of his company?
However, moments later, the throng of people parted, allowing him through as he walked toward her, his gaze fixed on her as it had been that day in Hyde Park. With a delighted smile, Townsend bowed to her. “I had hoped you would attend tonight.” He spoke rather quietly, and his gaze flitted to Elsbeth, a calculating gleam in his eyes.
“I couldn’t stay away,” Madeline beamed, feeling like a flower finally touched by the sun’s rays after a long, dark night, “for I enjoy nothing more than dancing.” Ignoring Elsbeth’s frowning expression, Madeline moved a little to the side, half-blocking her view on Lord Townsend.
“I’m delighted to hear that.” Holding out his hand to her, Lord Townsend smiled. “May I have this dance?”
Accepting his offer, Madeline allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor. As they stood up together for a cotillion, Madeline kept her eyes fixed on his smiling face, determinedly ignoring the disapproving glower her friend shot at her from across the room.
“I was wondering,” Lord Townsend began, “if you’ve changed your mind regarding my house party.”
“Oh, no, I am most eager to attend,” Madeline assured him, belatedly reminding herself not to sound too eager. “It will be a most distracting event, I am certain.”
“Of that I am certain as well,” he replied, and his gaze became more intense as he looked at her, his eyes gliding over her face and touching her lips. “Especially if you are there to keep me company.”
Madeline swallowed, hoping she was not misinterpreting his intentions, and yet, fearing their consequences.
“That night at Lord Kingsley’s ball,” Lord Townsend began, his voice low and intimate, “I was about to follow you when…your husband,” he paused for emphasis, “happened to spill his drink on me.”
Staring at her dance partner in shock, Madeline almost forgot to move her feet.
“I cannot help but believe that he purposefully detained me,” Lord Townsend continued confidently, “so that he could follow you instead of me.”
As the shock of Lord Townsend’s revelation slowly wore off, Madeline felt her face flash hot with anger. He’d lied! Her husband had sworn that he had had no intention of trapping her into marriage, and yet, he had orchestrated their encounter, pretending it had come about by chance. And he had not even had the courage or the decency to own up to it, to speak the truth!
“You seem flushed,” Lord Townsend observed as the dance ended. “Would you care for a refreshment?”
Meeting his gaze and seeing the concerned look in his eyes, Madeline once more found her decision made for her. “You are too kind, my lord,” she replied as she took his offered arm, forcing her voice not to betray the turmoil that lived in her heart. “However, I believe a little fresh air would be preferable. If you don’t mind?”
For a moment, he held her gaze before a knowing smile tugged up the corners of his mouth. “It’ll be my pleasure.” Then he escorted her through the crowd, and they slipped out one of the side doors onto the large terrace bathed in a warm glow as the last rays of the sun disappeared behind the horizon.
Releasing his arm, Madeline stepped around a large stone pillar and up to the rail. “It’s beautiful out here,” she whispered, gazing into the garden below as the warm breeze brushed over her heated skin. Her hands still trembled with the outrage that burnt in her heart, and yet, at the same time, she could feel her body shaking with the anticipation of what was to come. Would he kiss her? How would it make her feel?
“It is indeed.”
Madeline flinched as his breath tickled her skin, and she realised he had come to stand behind her, gazing over her shoulder. For a long time, they stood like this, quietly, without moving, without touching.
Annoyed with her own fluttering nerves as well as Lord Townsend’s obvious inability to simply sweep her into his arms, Madeline spun around and without another thought reached up and pulled him into a kiss.
For a split second, he seemed to be taken aback before his hands settled on her waist, pulling her closer against him. Returning her kiss with fervour, he spun her around and walked her backwards against the stone pillar, his lips hungry on hers.
Overwhelmed by the eagerness of his response, Madeline marvelled at the greedy way with which his mouth moved over hers, demanding and insistent, with no regard for her. Dimly, she recalled the gentle touch of her husband’s lips, the tender way he had looked at her−even if only for a moment.
“I never thought,” Lord Townsend panted as he pulled away, staring at her with a mixture of awe and disbelief, “that you were the kind of woman to be unfaithful to her husband.” He chuckled then. “Don’t misunderstand me though. I’m not complaining.”
Madeline swallowed as she felt the earlier enchantment of the moment fade away. Clinging to it with sheer determination, she ignored the doubts that settled in her belly. “My husband could not care less,” she gritted out, turning a blind eye to the stabbing pain in her heart. “I decide how to live my life.”
“I would have approached you much sooner,” he marvelled, his voice heavy and his gaze hungry, as he pressed his body to hers more firmly, “had I known you would so willingly agree to become my mistress.” Then his mouth claimed hers once more.
Stunned beyond comprehension, Madeline felt her limbs grow limp, her knees almost buckled and only Lord Townsend’s hold on her kept her from slumping to the ground into a puddle of misery.
Mistress?
That one word jerked the last shreds of enchantment from her hands and left Madeline feeling sick to the stomach. What on earth was she doing? How had this happened? How could she ever have thought she could be someone’s…mistress?
And he was right. That was what she was, what she would be if she agreed to this, if she did not stop him!
As his caresses grew more intimate with each heartbeat that passed, panic swelled in Madeline’s chest. She could not do this! This was simply not right; it did not even feel right.
Lifting her hands, she set them on his chest and pushed. At first, he barely seemed to notice. However, when she wrenched her head away, breaking his kiss, he finally stepped back.
“Is something wrong?” he asked, his arms still slung around her waist possessively. “Shall we find a quiet room?”
Shaking her head, Madeline pushed his hands off her and stumbled backwards, needing more distance between them. “I’m sorry,” she gasped, trying to regain her composure as he looked at her with incomprehension. “I was wrong. I thought I could…but I can’t. It’s not…I…I need to go.” And without another look back, Madeline hastened through the nearest door back into the crowded ballroom, utterly stupefied by her own behaviour and terrified of the woman she was becoming.