Page 10 of Duke of Wrath (Sinful Dukes #1)

CHAPTER 10

“ C harles!” Madeline exclaimed, coming to an abrupt halt on the path which led to the upper garden’s central lawn. “I thought you were reviewing the wine stocks with Lonsley.”

At the sound of his wife’s voice, the Duke of Huntingdon spun away from where he had been supervising the final steps in construction of the wooden gazebo. She was unsure whether her heart had risen or fallen to see him standing there in the gardens as she rounded the path, but it had certainly reacted strongly.

“The wine review didn’t take long,” Charles responded. “Lonsley’s memory of the Huntingdon cellars is formidable after all these years.”

On encountering Madeline, his green eyes had seemed to blaze for an uncontrolled moment although not with anger. They had both expected to be alone in their morning tasks, she supposed, and there was certainly surprise in his expression at least equal to her own but nothing more negative than that.

The gazebo’s workmen stood back with their tools while the head gamekeeper tested the firmness of the shelter that would host outdoor picnics and drinks during the house party. Gloucester nodded to the Duke.

“Very good,” Charles confirmed his final approval to the men and then looked curiously at the small line of servants approaching behind Madeline, carrying furniture and baskets of crockery and cutlery.

“I thought we should have a test run of our outdoor eating arrangements with luncheon today,” she explained. “Then we can make any necessary adjustments for ease and comfort before our guests arrive.”

His immediate silence made Madeline wonder whether he disapproved in some way or had expected to be consulted on such a plan. She covered the pause by giving instructions to the staff.

“Set up the small table over there, Loxton. Annie has the linen. Tomorrow there will be two larger tables, but this is big enough for our trial today.”

As her orders were swiftly obeyed, she turned back to Charles. He did not seem displeased and perhaps there was even a small smile at the corners of his mouth. That should be a good sign, but Madeline was disconcerted. Was this better or worse than when he ignored her?

Today, surely, there was less reason than ever to look at her with such intensity. Madeline actually felt rather a mess. She wore a plain gray day dress laced with white ribbon and her hair pinned up simply. Both the ribbon and several chestnut tresses had come loose, but she’d been too occupied to notice this earlier. In her view, there was nothing in her appearance to justify any man’s interest.

“A trial out here sounds like an excellent idea,” Charles said, walking over to stand beside her as the circular table was covered by a cloth and three chairs arranged around it. “I should have thought of it myself. But what about Cecilia? Unusual arrangements don’t always suit her.”

Madeline glanced at the servants and then dropped her voice. It had been speaking to Cecilia that gave her this idea.

“Your sister is willing to eat outdoors today. She seemed tired and out of spirits an hour ago and inclined to refuse luncheon entirely. Luckily, this plan appealed, especially when I explained the health of the open air and how important her opinion on arrangements would be to you.”

“I see. I’m glad that she listens to you, Madeline… I spoke with Cecilia earlier myself. Perhaps that upset her. I find it sometimes hard to follow what she is thinking.”

Madeline regarded him with a raised eyebrow. The level of self-awareness in this admission was something new.

“Cecilia is quite well now,” Madeline assured her husband. “Can I ask exactly what upset her?”

“Family matters,” answered Charles shortly and then added a little more to his brief answer as she continued to regard him quizzically. “Our parents and their marriage. It was not a happy one, and I would rather Cecilia not dwell upon it.”

He looked away into the distance as he spoke, and from the set of his jaw, Madeline suspected that Cecilia had not been the only one agitated by that morning’s conversation, whatever it entailed.

“I do not presume to know anything of your parents, but perhaps Cecilia needs only to be reminded that the past is over and done with and cannot hurt her anymore,” Madeline suggested lightly. “History can repeat itself, but it need not.”

While her comment had been intended as neutral and uncontroversial, it had an unanticipated effect on the Duke, his handsome face flushing and his eyes becoming even more intense as he considered her words.

“No, it need not. You are right. We set our own destiny.”

As he spoke, he took Madeline’s hand and raised it to his lips.

“Charles!” she said with quiet alarm, her whole body seeming to throb with the kiss he pressed against her skin.

She did not understand his mood and was wary of attracting the notice of their staff. More than either of those things, she was startled by the strength and depth of her own longing to be in Charles’ arms.

“Do not be afraid,” he murmured as he lowered her hand but kept it in his own. “I would never hurt you, Madeline. I shall be a good and dutiful husband to you in every way. You will see.”

Madeline’s heart slammed against her rib cage. What could all this mean? What was Charles talking about? Had he changed his mind about waiting until after the house party?

Meanwhile, the servants paid no attention to the subtle drama playing out between the Duke and Duchess on the far side of the gazebo and continued to set up the table for luncheon, some tripping backwards and forwards along the path that led to the kitchen door.

“Charles, Madeline,” rang out Cecilia’s voice, light and clear in the sunny noon air. “Am I in good time or a little too early?”

Unlike the servants, Cecilia immediately noted the twining of their fingers and even acknowledged it with a small smile that made Madeline blush. An array of covered silver dishes were now laid out on the white cloth, the meal awaiting its recipients to be seated.

“You are perfectly on time, Cecilia,” said Madeline, pulling away from the Duke to go to her sister-in-law and take her arm. “Now, I shall seat you on this side, and you must tell us if the breeze is too strong. There are wind breaks we can place as needed.”

“How fine to eat outside on a day like this,” Cecilia remarked with pleasure, smoothing the linen napkin out across her knees. “And in my favorite company too…”

Exceptionally, it was Cecilia who carried the conversation as the roast chicken and salad were served followed by a light gooseberry fool. Although nodding in response to his sister’s words, Charles remained in polite but preoccupied silence. His glances to Madeline only stirred the depths of her own pensive silence as she pondered the meaning of his behavior and her own response.

“Shall we eat outside again tonight?” Cecilia asked with a sigh of contentment as the final plates were cleared. “I have enjoyed this.”

“No,” said Charles decisively, shaking his head. “We must wait for the party. Gloucester thinks there will be rain in a few hours, and he’s usually right. Well, at least it looks like we will have a clear week of sunshine after today’s little downpour. I shall take my oilskins to ride over for my meeting with the Huntingdon tenant farmers shortly.”

“Ah, you’re going out. Will you be dining with us this evening?” Madeline checked. “Or should I have the kitchen keep your meal back for a late return?”

“You need not change anything for dinner on my account,” Charles said. “Be sure, I will be with you tonight.”

Madeline almost leapt from her chair as her husband’s hand came to rest lightly on her knee beneath the tablecloth. She managed to remain seated, but her eyes opened wide as she met his gaze.

“Unless you would rather I absented myself?” he added, a serious question in those emerald eyes. “I prefer to be where I am welcome.”

“Of course, I would not prefer that. I will see you at dinner, Charles,” Madeline stated, trying and failing to keep the breathless edge out of her voice.

Whatever the Duke of Huntingdon’s intentions, she had always been determined to face her duty without flinching. Now, more than being afraid of submitting to her husband’s physical desires, Madeline feared that she would enjoy it. What could it all mean?!

Unusually, Madeline was the last to arrive at the dinner table that night, after a long negotiation over jewelry with Gabrielle. Her maid had seemed determined that she should wear those pearls again, this time with an evening gown of pale buttercup silk, overlaid with bronze gauze.

“Not the pearls. I felt like my body was…on display to the world in a shop window last time, Gabrielle. I do not feel up to that tonight.”

“But you looked stunning, Your Grace, and Huntingdon Manor is hardly a shop window. The only eyes to consider are those of your husband. I’m sure he would agree that the pearls are a perfect adornment to your figure and complexion.”

“My husband surely sees enough of me every day,” protested Madeline, remembering how Charles had seemed to feast his eyes on her, even in that drab, gray, day dress. “I do not need any jewelry.”

“If you’re concerned about showing too much of your skin, then the pearls are your friend, Duchess Madeline,” Gabrielle added, not yet giving up. “As I’ve said before, they cover as much as they display.”

“Then there is no need for them tonight. This gown is not quite as revealing as the cream dress, is it?”

Snapping the case closed on the strings of lustrous pearls, Madeline handed them to Gabrielle and stood up from the dressing table.

“No, I have made up my mind, Gabrielle. Put these back in the jewelry box. I will wear them again during the house party if they suit my gowns. Now I shall go downstairs to the dining room.”

Gabrielle obediently took the case and then gave Madeline one more appraising look and a smile.

“Of course. That gown becomes you well, Duchess Madeline. With or without your pearls.”

It was only when Madeline reached the landing where that large mirror stood again that she began to have fresh qualms about her outfit and refusing the pearls. While higher cut than the cream silk had been, her breasts still seemed distinctly framed by her present evening gown, especially without the distraction of jewelry.

She considered returning to her room for a wrap, but the gong had sounded at least ten minutes ago, and she hated lateness as did the Duke. Squaring her shoulders, Madeline made her way to the dining room and pushed open the door.

“Forgive me,” she said as she took her seat. “I was discussing jewelry for this week with my maid. It took longer than I imagined.”

That was close enough to the truth and would hopefully not invite comment.

“I have only just arrived,” Cecilia reassured her. “You are not really late, and your company is welcome enough that we would not care anyway, would we, brother?”

“No,” Charles agreed, waving for a footman to now begin the dinner service. “Your presence is both necessary and appreciated in this household.”

As per the Duke’s standing order, the staff served Madeline first at dinner. Conscious of his eyes watching her yet again, Madeline waited until the servants had moved to Cecilia’s place before speaking. She could not quite say that he reminded her of a predator stalking its prey, but there was certainly something in his manner that suggested hunting. She decided to engage him directly.

“Why do you look at me like that, Charles?” she asked him quietly while his sister’s attention was elsewhere. “You must know it makes me think I might have accidentally put on a nightgown or brushed against paint.”

He laughed a little at this lightly spoken observation.

“I am sorry, Duchess. I look because you are…pleasing to me, and because I was recently surprised and dismayed to find myself accused of ignoring you. In fact, it is keeping my eyes from you that requires particular effort. Would you rather I looked at the paintings of my various ancestors? I have many to choose from, but none interest me half as much as you.”

After a moment’s thought, Madeline shook her head and smiled at him.

“I cannot say I dislike honest admiration when unconscious or well-intended. It is only that I am unaccustomed to such attention, and I do not always recognize or understand it. I could not see what you saw to interest you this afternoon when I was dressed so plainly and untidily for example.”

“Plainly and untidily? You clearly did not see what I saw,” he told her.

“What was plain and untidy?” Cecilia questioned, now rejoining the conversation with a full plate and glass.

“My dress this afternoon in my view,” answered Madeline. “But let us talk of more interesting things. What are you reading presently, Cecilia?”

As her sister-in-law began to speak of a volume of poetry she was enjoying, Charles leaned towards Madeline slightly for one further private remark.

“We shall talk more of your dress later, Duchess Madeline,” he said sotto voce without interrupting Cecilia. “There are things you do not know about what men see, and it is time that I taught you.”

After that, Madeline felt as though she was holding her breath for the entire meal. Through the soup, the lamb cutlets, and the stewed apples with cinnamon, through the light-hearted three-way discussions of prose and verse, and through the inexorable turning of the hands on the clock, she was waiting for only one moment.

After the pudding dishes were cleared and Cecilia had retired from the table, that moment arrived.

“Come with me,” said the Duke of Huntingdon, offering an arm.

“Where are we going?” Madeline asked.

“To my rooms. There is no need to be afraid. Come.”

While the Duke’s voice was not rough or unkind, the words spoken were a command now, rather than a suggestion or invitation. He had already given Madeline the opportunity to refuse him at luncheon, and she had declined it. Now, she must reap the whirlwind of her determined principles.

Nodding and steeling her nerves against the quickening beat of her heart, she rose from her seat and took her husband’s arm.

“Cecilia has been in good spirits today, hasn’t she?” Madeline said, seeking the relief of normal conversation as they began to walk up the stairs together for the first time.

“She has,” agreed Charles. “It makes me hopeful for the house party and the opportunity to finally make social introductions for her. There will be several young women I would like to know Cecilia and perhaps young men too.”

Concern for Cecilia momentarily overtook Madeline’s own nervousness.

“It is a little early for that, don’t you think? Move slowly, Charles, if you wish Cecilia’s progress to continue. If we only knew the root cause of her affliction, we might find a quicker remedy, but at the moment, it feels like we are groping in the dark to help her up from a chasm into which she has fallen.”

Charles shook his head, not disagreeing but feeling something strongly.

“I’ve never known and maybe I never will, but I’m sure it was the fault of our mother in one way or another — damn her!”

“Neither of you remembers your mother fondly,” observed Madeline, too wise to contradict him, feign shock, or spout platitudes about not speaking ill of the dead.

“Fondness was not a quality I would associate with my mother. She did not waste any of it on her children, I think. Nor did my father.”

“Not everyone is capable of love.”

“No, I don’t think my parents were capable of anything like love. Kindness and compassion are a passable substitute,” he laughed shortly, “but I don’t think they possessed those either.”

“What went wrong?”

“I’ve never really thought about that. When they first married, I suspect my mother expected to be loved by my father. She had been a beauty of great accomplishments and admired by the entire ton. But he wanted only his own company, and she grew angry, jealous, and bitter at the whole world. In turn, he grew cold, cruel, and resentful of her pursuit and demands.”

“That sounds like a harsh household to grow up in.”

It did sound harsh and awful to Madeline who had grown up in a household full of love. Lord and Lady Terrell’s house had been full of chaos, irrationality, and constant loud voices, but all was held together with love for one another and their daughters.

Charles pulled a face, and Madeline guessed that the conversation was growing too serious or too personal for him now.

“Oh, there were nannies, governesses, tutors, and so on. Godfathers and godmothers, too. I don’t want anyone to think Cecilia and I were wretched and friendless in the world. We were…loved and cared for, I suppose. Just not by our parents.”

“Then why do you think Cecilia should have been be so affected?”

“Maybe because I went away at the wrong time. I left her alone here with Mother and Father. Her governess was gone by then, and our old nanny had died. Even her godparents were traveling. She had no one to turn to.”

“You can’t blame yourself,” Madeline challenged the Duke, realizing now that on some level he likely did, even with such incomplete knowledge of Cecilia’s breakdown. “Whatever your mother did, you are not responsible for what happened to Cecilia.”

Charles took a long, deep breath.

“Perhaps,” he said, unconvinced. “But I am certainly responsible for putting things right again and caring for Cecilia until I can. I failed to make her my priority when she needed me most, and I won’t fail her again…”

He spoke with absolute determination that impressed Madeline with his love for his sister while making her fear for his future happiness, so bound did he seem to be for failure on his present course.

“I know you will do everything in your power to help Cecilia, and she knows that too,” Madeline intervened with quiet compassion.

“…but I realized today that caring for my sister does not mean the rest of life has to stop. I am not like my father, withdrawn from the world and neglecting others in my own selfish pursuits.”

“You are not,” affirmed Madeline.

Some of his father’s tendencies might have been in him, but Charles fought against them, even though he didn’t always succeed. He fought to connect to the world and its inhabitants even when he didn’t understand how.

“I have a wife now,” he said, turning his head to look at Madeline with a warm smile.

“Your father had a wife,” Madeline pointed out with a frown, thinking that Charles was trying to draw a distinction between himself and his parent.

“He did not have a wife in the sense that I mean, Madeline,” he said seriously, stopping now at the end of the corridor which led to his rooms and taking both of her hands in his.

“Your mother…” she began, but Charles put a finger to her lips.

“Shhh, I do not wish to talk any further about my mother,” he laughed and then stroked the surprised “O” of her lips. “Tonight, I wish to prepare my wife properly for her most important future duties so that she might enjoy their fulfillment as much as I intend her to…”

With an arm about her waist, the Duke guided Madeline into his bedroom and closed the door behind them.

“Oh God, Charles,” she blurted, suddenly feeling overwhelmed and almost on the verge of panicking and fleeing the room. “I don’t know what to do!”

“Madeline,” he said her name softly and stroked her hair, “you do not have to do anything but be here with me now and feel my touch.”

“But do I not need to undress?” she asked, not wishing to appear naive. “Should I lie on the bed? I do not know quite how I should do that.”

“No, no, no,” he soothed her and finally put his strong arms around her body, laying his face against her hair and breathing in deeply as he stroked her back. “Do not think of these things. I am not going to take you tonight, Madeline. I am only going to prepare you for when I do. It will be better this way. You will see.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Madeline told him uncertainly, finding a kind of refuge in the warmth of his chest even though the faint scent of male flesh overlaid with amber and cedar cologne excited and disturbed her.

Without another word, Charles tipped up her chin so that her eyes looked straight into his and then lowered his mouth to kiss her.