Chapter Five − Duty & Desire
Madeline felt restless as was evident in the quick strides that carried her up and down the ornate rug draped over the parquet floor in her assigned bedchamber.
It was not even her own bedchamber, and it never would be. After all, they were merely guests here.
Running her fingers through her loose hair as it fell in black waves over her shoulders, Madeline felt her skin burn with untapped anger. All day, she had remained silent, done as asked, and ignored the feelings of utter desperation that threatened to choke the air from her lungs. Now, as the sun slowly began its descent, all restraints seemed to fall from her, releasing her anger in a wave of uncontrolled rage.
Never in her life had she felt helpless.
And it stung like nothing ever had.
Gritting her teeth, she snatched up the small vase sitting on the side table by her vanity and hurled it at the far wall, a cry of sheer frustration tearing from her lungs. As her heart hammered in her chest, Madeline stared at the small shards covering the floor, thinking the image utterly befitting her own state of mind.
“You seem upset,” a dry voice remarked from the door, and Madeline spun around to face it…or rather him.
After spending the better part of the day ignoring her husband, Madeline suddenly found herself utterly transfixed with him. Unable to even blink, she stared at the tall, dark-haired stranger who stood with his back to the closed door, his dark eyes calm as he watched her.
The last time they had looked at one another like this, the room had been dark, dimly lit only by the light of the moon streaming in through the window. He had been dressed mostly in black, and Madeline remembered that he had appeared like a shadow to her, an enigma, something one could not quite grasp. He had barely spoken, and yet, his gaze had been watchful, intense in such a way that she could almost feel it trailing over her skin.
The memory sent a shiver down her back, and Madeline drew in a deep breath. Lifting her chin, she met his gaze, ignoring the silent authority that rolled off him in waves. If he thought she would cower before him, he was severely mistaken!
For a long time, they stood staring at one another before his gaze flitted to the ground and the cluster of shards across the room. “Is there anything you require?” he asked in a voice so calm it was quite unnerving.
Gritting her teeth to keep from laughing out loud at the absurdity of his question, Madeline merely scoffed, crossing her arms before her in a defiant gesture. “Your question, my lord, comes much too late,” she hissed, watching the muscles in his jaw tense at the hostility in her voice. Had he truly expected her to be civil?
Even though a scandal often resulted in a marriage, Madeline could not help but feel cheated. After all, she had not entered a scandalous moment willingly with a man of her choosing, risking everything because she felt the need to be alone with him. No, that was not what had happened.
For his own selfish reasons, Lord Ainsworth had been the one to seek her out. They had not even been acquainted, had not even exchanged a single word before her hopes had come crashing down around her. He had not asked for her hand. He had merely allowed life to run its course after setting them both up for a marriage neither one of them wanted.
After all, all he wanted was her dowry.
And possibly her father’s influence.
“I ask nonetheless,” he spoke, jarring her from her thoughts. “Is there anything you require?” His dark eyes held hers, and to her utter surprise, Madeline thought to see a touch of honest concern in them.
As though unable to sustain itself any longer, her anger dissipated, and her breathing hitched as she felt herself respond to the intensity in his gaze. She felt almost naked under his scrutiny as his eyes travelled over her face as though seeking to understand her. No one had ever looked at her quite like that. It was as though he truly wished to see her, her in all her flawed glory, and not the woman she portrayed to the world.
It was deeply unsettling, and she knew that over time this man would be able to see past her well-crafted mask.
Never had Madeline felt so vulnerable, and she immediately knew she could not allow that to happen.
“I have no desire to converse with you, my lord,” she snapped, hoping to keep their time spent in each other’s company as brief as possible. If she could maintain a certain distance between them, he would not be able to uncover the doubts and insecurities she had hidden so well…even from herself.
Willing her shaking hands to still, she reached out and extinguished the candle closest to her. Courage, she whispered to herself before turning to meet her husband’s eyes. Those dark eyes that made her breath catch in her throat and her skin crawl with…
Madeline could not say. It was not altogether unpleasant, and yet, it terrified her like nothing she had ever known.
Forcing her breathing to remain as close to normal as possible, she gestured to the sconce beside him. “If you’d be so kind, my lord.”
At the sarcastic tone in her voice, his eyes narrowed, and yet, he still regarded her with the same intensity as before. “Why?” was all he said in reply.
Annoyed with his tight-lipped response, Madeline felt her muscles tense as her anger rose, urging her to lash out at him. However, such a behaviour would not serve her. It would only make it far too easy for him to see behind her mask. From experience, she knew that wild emotions tended to wipe it off her face, leaving her vulnerable.
She could not afford that now. “As I have no wish to converse with you, there is no point in delaying…” Despite the anger that boiled in her veins, Madeline could not finish the sentence, could barely keep her chin up and her gaze from dropping from his.
“No point in delaying what?” he asked, his voice as calm as ever, as he started toward her. Ever so slowly, his feet moved, carrying him closer to her while his gaze held her immobile. Madeline felt like a fly caught in a spider’s web, waiting to be devoured.
As he approached, she could feel her eyes begin to water as it took all her determination to keep her gaze fixed on his, to not back down. Clearing her throat, she blinked rapidly, hoping to encourage the tears to retreat, praying that he had not already seen them. “There’s no point in prolonging this,” she answered, annoyed with the slight hitch in her voice. “We should…we should simply…retire.”
At her words, his gaze widened and for a moment travelled to the large bed only a few steps away.
The second his eyes fell from hers, Madeline exhaled in relief. The absence of his scrutinising gaze felt as though the downpour she had been subjected to had finally ceased, leaving her shivering and soaked but free from the almost painful drumming of the tiny droplets on her skin.
However, before she could gather her strength once more, he turned back to her. “Is that what you wish?” he asked, doubt in his voice as he stepped closer, his gaze once more holding hers, daring her to speak the truth.
“What I wish?” Shaking her head, she swallowed. “Hardly.” His shoulders tensed. “However, as much as I regret that fact, I am your wife and as such it is my duty to−”
“Your duty?” he growled, and for the first time, she saw something else besides calm authority reflected in his eyes. If they had been deep and unyielding before, now they burnt with anger as his long legs suddenly moved faster, carrying him to her in the blink of an eye.
Taken aback at the intensity of his reaction, Madeline shrank back, colliding hard with the wall at her back. Briefly, her eyes closed, and she groaned at the dull pain that rang through the back of her head.
“Duty?” he all but snarled, and her eyes snapped open, staring at him in open shock as her body screamed at her to run from the danger that loomed before her.
***
Cursing himself, Derek took a step back, his hands still balled into fists as he tried his utmost to subdue the anger that had seized him so unexpectedly. What was wrong with him? He ought to have more control than to lash out at her like this, frightening her out of her mind. Her wide eyes and rapid breathing as she pressed herself against the wall, no doubt wishing to put as much distance between them as possible, spoke to the fear he had just now so unwisely evoked within her.
Duty.
It had been that word, the way she had used it, suggesting that he did not care whether she came to his bed willingly, that had sent him over the edge.
After all, he was not the man she deemed him to be, and he could not deny that it drove him mad that she would think of him like that. From the first moment he had laid eyes on her, Derek had wanted her to see him as worthy. He had wanted her to see him for who he truly was beyond the mere measurements of his life.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, running a hand through his hair. “I did not mean to frighten you.”
“You did not,” she insisted as she raised her chin in defiance. “I was merely startled.”
At the sight of her courage and unyielding will, Derek could not help but admire her. The truth was only too obvious in the slight tremble that shook her body as well as the way her chest rose and fell rapidly under her breathing. And yet, she would not cower, would not bend her head. Instead, she held his gaze, her eyes searching his, waiting, wondering.
Derek inhaled deeply, trying to choose his words with care. “The duty you speak of,” he began, noting the way she drew in a slow breath, “is none I would ask of you.”
Her gaze narrowed, a touch of confusion marking her features. “You would not?”
Slowly, he shook his head.
“I see,” she mumbled, and her gaze became distant, sliding from his for the first time that night.
Confused, Derek watched her, wondering about the touch of red that came to her cheeks as her eyes drifted to the floor. “Are you all right?”
For a long moment, she remained quiet. Then she lifted her head, and he could see that her eyes were hard with defiance once more. And yet, Derek thought to see a touch of mortification in the way she looked at him as though he had just insulted her. He could not for the life of him understand her reaction.
“So, all you want,” she began, her shoulders tense as she spoke, “is my dowry? That’s why you followed me.” As the accusation left her lips, she straightened her spine and drew back her shoulders, the look in her eyes one of challenge.
Fighting down the urge to respond with equal measure, Derek inhaled a steadying breath. “Is that what you believe?”
Snorting in derision, she shook her head. “It is what I know,” she hissed, her eyes alight with anger once more. “For years now, I’ve had to be on my guard as so-called gentlemen refused to accept my decline of their marriage proposal and instead thought it the right course of action to force me into marriage. More than once, I’ve seen that very intention in a man’s eyes, knowing exactly what he intended as he offered to escort me outside for some fresh air. Always was I able to evade their intentions, to thwart their plans.” Pressing her lips into a hard line, she regarded him with displeasure. “Maybe it made me overly confident. Maybe that’s why I didn’t see you coming.”
Linking his arms behind his back, Derek could barely contain the outrage that her words had evoked. “You did not see me coming,” he forced out through gritted teeth, “because I never had any intention of trapping you into marrying me. I merely−”
Laughing, she shook her head. “Why would I believe that? After all, men are deceitful, only ever doing what is in their own best interest. Unfortunately, women do not have that luxury.”
“Do they not?” Derek snapped. “If that were true, I wonder why it is well known all over London that you had no intention of marrying a man who ranks lower than an earl. Are you not also choosing based upon secondary characteristics? Do you not also fail to see beyond a man’s rank and fortune?”
For a long moment, she simply stared at him as though the double standard of her opinion had never occurred to her before. “I do so because it is the only choice I can make.” She snorted. “Or at least until you decided to take it from me.”
“I did no such thing,” Derek insisted. Despite the urge to pace, to move, he found it impossible not to look at her. She was breathtaking in her anger, her righteous indignation of how society treated her. Her dark green eyes sparkled as though lit from within, and the candlelight bathed her ebony hair and porcelain skin in a warm glow. She was a woman who knew what she wanted and would not hesitate to fight for it.
Derek had known such women before. Tristan’s wife Beth as well as his sister Henrietta were birds of the same feather. However, the fire that burnt in Madeline’s gaze was unlike any he had ever encountered before. In a strange way, it matched his own, drawing him near, and despite knowing he would get burnt, he still found himself unable to resist.
“Why can you not admit that you only compromised me,” she began, annoyance clear in her voice, “in order to get your hands on−?”
“On you?” Derek interrupted, flinching at his own bold words. However, the thought that she might believe he had only compromised her to claim her dowry stung just as much as her thinking that he had done so in the first place.
At his words, her eyes widened, and he could see her drawing in a stuttering breath. “On…on my dowry?”
Gritting his teeth, Derek stalked toward her, seeing the effect of his approach clearly written on her face. Although he did not wish to frighten her, he could not leave this room without assuring her that he had not once thought about her dowry as he had hastened after her that night. Indeed, it had been the farthest thing from his mind.
“Admit it,” she whispered as he came to stand in front of her, her voice suddenly weak. “Admit that you only wanted my dowry.”
“I cannot,” he said, holding her gaze, willing her to see the truthfulness of his words, “for it would be a lie.” Without another conscious thought, he closed the small distance between them, his hands coming around her waist, drawing her against him.
Startled, she drew in a sharp breath, but did not try to free herself from his hold. “I do not believe you,” she whispered, her breathing quickening as she lifted her hands and placed them on the arms that held her. “Why would you deny it?” Although her words doubted him, Derek could see the underlying desire to have them be true in the way she held his eyes.
Tightening his hold on her, Derek lowered his head to hers, his gaze unwavering. “I swear that I did not once think about your dowry,” he whispered, feeling her shiver in his arms as his breath tickled her skin. “However, I cannot deny that from the moment I saw you I dreamed of getting my hands on you.”
Her fingers dug into his arms as she stared at him. “Why?” For a moment, hope rang in her voice before she briefly closed her eyes and shook her head as though seeking to clear it. When she looked at him again, her gaze had hardened. “No matter what you say, I cannot believe that a man, any man, but especially one in your position, could honestly bring himself to disregard the fortune attached to my name. Therefore, what you say cannot be true.”
Gritting his teeth, Derek growled at her stubbornness. “I do not need, nor do I wish for, anyone’s charity. Although you may discount my life’s achievements, everything I have, I have earned by my own hands’ work.” He grabbed her chin, forcing her head up as his gaze burnt into hers. “I swear I will not touch a penny of your bloody dowry.”