Page 5
Hugh
It was late in the morning when I finally woke up.
Pale morning light filtered through the windows, and the bed beside me was cold and empty.
The only trace of Madison’s existence was the faint scent of lavender on the pillow and the memory of her hand against my chest.
Feeling the need to apologise for my behaviour, I dressed quickly and went in search of Madison.
I’d first gone to my study, but found her in the conservatory, where morning sunlight streamed through glass panes warmed by the rising sun.
The air hung thick with the earthy scent of rich soil, tinged with the fresh fragrance of new leaves.
Somewhere above, a robin trilled its morning song while bees hummed lazily among the flowering plants.
Madison knelt beside a row of plants.
Her fingers trailed over leaves that straightened and brightened at her touch.
A dying fern unfurled healthy fronds, its brown edges fading to vibrant green.
It was as if the air itself shimmered around her fingertips.
Leaves rustled without any breeze, as if the very plants leaned toward her touch.
I stood transfixed, watching this impossible display as she rose gracefully, brushing soil from her hands.
She wore a simple morning dress of pale yellow that made her skin glow like honey in the sunshine.
When she noticed my presence, her carefully composed mask slipped into place.
“Good morning, Lord Trent,”
she said, her tone polite yet distant.
“I was admiring your greenery.”
“All the greener thanks to your attention,”
I said, moving closer despite the wariness in her eyes.
“Despite Olivia’s best efforts, that fern has been failing for weeks.”
A flush crept up her neck.
“I’ve always been fond of gardening.
My mother kept a small plot that I tended to after her passing.”
“Did the plants respond to her touch as they do to yours?”
Madison hesitated.
Her fingers twitched and twisted together before she caught herself and stilled them.
“Everyone has talents, my lord. Mine happens to involve gardening.”
I took another step forward.
“What other talents do you possess?”
The question came out sharper than I intended, edged with suspicion as I recalled a book I’d read in the library, detailing another with such power over plants who also possessed an affinity for healing and empathy.
“You sense what others feel,”
I said, the words coming out more of an accusation than a question.
She has unnatural power.
She'll use it against you.
The voice was so loud, so insistent, that I turned to check if someone stood behind me.
When I looked back at Madison, her eyes were wide and searching, darting to every corner of the conservatory.
“My lord,”
she said, but fell silent when Olivia arrived, carrying a tray.
“Your morning tea, my lord, my lady.”
Olivia set the tray on the cast-iron table.
She glanced between us and raised an eyebrow in my direction, a liberty she took only when we were alone, and then withdrew with her usual discretion.
She didn’t need to be an empath to note the tension crackling between us.
“Thank you,”
I said by way of dismissal and turned my attention back to Madison as Olivia left.
She’d already moved to pour the tea.
Her hand trembled slightly as she lifted the pot.
I remembered how those same hands had rested against my chest in sleep, how her body had sought out mine even in slumber. But then I remembered the voice and its words of warning. The memory of it added to my frustration. No doubt with her abilities Madison could sense that too.
“You may have married into the Trent name and be lady of this house,”
I said as Madison handed me a cup of tea, “but that doesn’t grant you licence to practice your… influence… on my household or my estate.”
Her cheeks flushed, but anger flashed in her green eyes.
“I have practiced nothing of the sort,”
she said, holding my gaze.
“If you find me so….
objectionable, then perhaps you should have chosen a different bride.”
“Had I known the extent of your abilities, I would have.”
The words left my mouth before I could stop them, cruel and cutting.
“Whatever ancient magic--”
Madison's slammed her teacup down hard enough to make the saucer clatter.
Her face went pale, but she did not retreat.
Instead, she stepped closer, close enough for me to catch the scent of lavender coming from her skin, to see the rise and fall of her chest with each infuriated breath. “Ancient Magic! Is that what we’re to discuss? If anyone here is wielding strange powers, my lord, I suggest you examine your own.”
“You know nothing of my powers,” I said.
“I know the rumours.
I know you command shadows, and I witnessed the proof with my own eyes last night.”
Madison stepped closer still and lifted her chin, her eyes ablaze.
“Tell me, is that how you drove your first wife to madness?”
The accusation hit like a punch to the gut.
Unable to stop the anger building inside me or the shadows that stretched across the conservatory floor, responding to my rage, I seized her arms.
That familiar jolt jumped between us, stronger than ever before.
Madison gasped, her pupils dilating as our bodies came together.
Despite her anger, despite the cruel words we had exchanged, desire still coursed between us.
A vision struck without warning.
Madison stood before a mirror; her face twisted with pain as she pressed her hands to her temples.
“Control your emotions,”
she whispered to her reflection.
“Show only what is proper.”
But beneath the practiced words, there was a desperation, and a fear that she was losing control.
“What did you do?”
I said, releasing her as if burnt, though I regretted the loss of contact.
“You grabbed me,”
Madison snapped, stepping back and rubbing her wrists.
Her breathing was rapid and shallow, her lips parted.
I couldn’t tell if she was furious or… aroused. Perhaps both.
God! This woman affected me in ways I couldn’t comprehend.
I growled, fearing I might abandon all restraint and surge forward again, but something flashed in her eyes…
“You're afraid.”
The realisation struck me with unexpected force.
“Of course, I'm afraid.”
Madison held up her left hand, displaying the gold band that bound us together.
“I married a stranger who pushes me away one moment and accuses me of witchcraft the next.
I’m already in a loveless marriage. Will it also be one I must fear?”
“I would never--”
Madison scoffed and shook her head, but stood her ground.
“Really? Then tell me, my lord, what are you afraid of?”
Her eyes blazed with hurt and anger, but beneath it all, I saw the same need that had driven me to retreat the night before.
“You,”
I said, unsure if it was another lie or the truth.