Page 51

“T he Earl of Lannister.”

Madeleine looked up from the lady’s magazine she was flipping through, startled. Flustered, she rose, “My lord.” His expression lacked its usual humor. Her heart quailed.

He waited until the door had closed upon her butler before he said, “I understand we have some unfinished business?” His tone was silky but not in a pleasant way.

She shivered. For the first time in her adult life, she was afraid of what a man might do.

Being under the duke’s protection had made her forget what that felt like.

“I—”

“Was your opinion of me so low that you thought I would shirk responsibility for my own child? Or was it sheer avarice, the duke being a bigger golden goose?”

“No!” she said, wriggling with distress and guilt. “I wanted him back. I thought—” She shook her head. “I was a fool. It was a stupid thing to do.”

“Yes, it was. And extremely selfish. You hurt two innocent people in the process.”

Her mouth fell open in surprise.

“No, not me. The duke and duchess.”

She swallowed, digesting that. Why did he care? As far as she was aware, there was no love lost between him and Robert.

“The duke did everything right by you. Why would you serve him such a trick?”

“I told you I wanted him back.” She spoke a little sullenly, sinking back onto the sofa. She felt a bit dizzy.

“Very well then, why not stick to your plan? Why confess?”

“I realized I’d hurt him—and the duchess. I wanted to hate her for stealing him, but I couldn’t. She was too nice, too kind. The dowager would have thrown me out on my ear. The duchess wouldn’t let her.”

She looked up and caught a softened expression on his face. He murmured, “Yes, that is Sarah all over.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and she reached for a handkerchief hastily. “I love him. I know it’s foolish, but I do, and I couldn’t deceive him in the end. I just c-couldn’t.”

She bowed her head, covering her face with her hands, and sobbed.

She felt the sofa dip beside her as he sat.

“There is a delicious irony in this that, if I weren’t so damned affected, would be highly amusing. As is it, I’m as trapped as you are.”

She sniffed and looked up. “I don’t understand.”

“No, you probably don’t.” He was sitting sideways toward her with his arm along the back of the couch. “I love the duchess; you love the duke.” He smiled bitterly. “You see, irony.”

“Oh.” She wiped her eyes.

He took her hand. “I can’t pretend to have any real feelings for you, Madeleine, but I’m not a monster. You’re carrying my child. I’ll care for you and it to the best of my ability. I give you my word as a gentleman.”

Oh,” she said again. “Thank you.” It was then she felt it, a flutter in her abdomen. She put her hand to it, unthinking.

“What is it? Are you well?” He leaned forward, concern in his expression.

“The baby,” she said softly. “I think I felt something. It—it hasn’t done that before.”

She glanced up at him and caught an expression on his face she couldn’t read.

“May I?” he asked, holding out his hand.

She took it and, leaning back, placed his hand on her lower abdomen where the swell of the child was most prominent.

They both sat in silence for a moment or two, and then she felt a distinct kick. The look of wonder on his face made her smile.

“Well, little fellow, you’ve got some power in those legs,” he murmured, clearly pleased.

Will I bear him a son? Will that make up for what I have done?

She placed her hand over his, and he wrapped the other arm round her shoulders.

“Don’t worry, Madeleine, everything will be all right,” he murmured against her hair.